Title: Oh, How We Grow
Disclaimer: This is purely for entertainment; none of the characters are mine.
Summary: A short fic, exploring how Buffy came to have such intense feelings for Faith.
Chapter One -What It Means to be Close
We always end up here after slaying. It's the natural order of events on our daily 'to-do' lists.
School (or in Faith's case sleep)
Bronze (for getting down and again, in Faith's case…getting dirty).
We'd hang here for a while after brutal patrol made us buzz, having slayed over a dozen of vamps and gotten a pretty decent fight out of them all, I certainly had worked up the need to break out into a sweat just a little bit more.
But this was the one and only way I liked to do it. Side by side with her, we'd get our nightly action, and whether it was dancing, drinking, slaying, talking, whatever, I always did it with her.
The club was full of inebriated bodies, some swaying to the music, some sitting and drinking, one slumped over another on the couch, another bent over the pool table. Everywhere, just people.
The dim lights meant it was hard to recognise people, but there was one person I failed to allow my eyes to let go of. Ever.
I watched her mildly intoxicated form moving to the beat of the music, her body I knew was pulsating from the heat of mine, and I wished inwardly that it was pulsating for other reasons that I had initiated.
I wouldn't let my eyes off of her for the simple reason that I just couldn't not look at her. Her body, her eyes, her beautiful self. Every inch of her attracted me to her so much that I found the pulse right in the core of me every time we met, every time we were close.
Close. It's such an intimate word. Faith and I: close. Such an intimate phrase. It wasn't so true. To put facts straight I barely knew her. But what I did know of her, I adored.
'Hey, I'm Faith.'
I watched on in awe as stole the stake from my hand and went ahead to tear the sorry vamp to pieces.
'I'm gonna go out on a limb and say there's a new slayer in town.'
She was straightforward. Blunt. Nearly 'in your face' kind of there. As much as that normally scratches me out, her, I could deal with. See Faith's a different kind of 'in your face.'
Where she's all about the 'brutal bitch', the 'hungry' and the 'horny' and the getting in a good round of 'uhh,' it reminds me of the excitement inside of me, dying to get out, but staying concealed because I have a job to do first.
But now I can feel her body up against mine ever so often as we dance, as our bodies move rhythmically to the heavy thump of the music, and we move in-sync, our motions matching, our bodies beautiful, and the sweat slick of me mirroring the sweat slick of her.
We walk home the same way we got there, on our trail through the cemetery, hoping to get in just one last slay for the night, then it would be time to hit the pillows.
But every time we found just one more, it would be the burning sensation inside of me that hoped she'd run ahead and get it, just so I could watch her body moving as she made the vamp a sorry pile of ash. I always see the passion in her, the burning sensation in her that wants to slay just one more, that wants to get her naughty on, and so much more.
This goes on too much. This whole, her not knowing how much I want her. And I never thought I would ever want a girl, like…I never realised. But it's only ever been her. But when we're together, when we slay, when we dance, when we spar…it's almost as if she can feel the buzzing sensation I get from being 'close' to her.
She touches me on my arm as I say 'night' to her and flash her a smile. I just want her to know how much I want her.
- - -
I lay in my bed that same night, same as every other night just going over the contents of the day, the moments with her just repeating continuously in my mind, the memory staying alive for me as long as I wanted it to.
And I try to imagine the night we're in the Bronze, and we're dancing, and I hear her breath in my ear, and feel it on my neck, and then I hear her say the words, 'I want you, Buffy.'
- - -
She can hear me breathing and I know she can.
She shakes out the punch she landed in my chest and the intense exhalation I give coupled with a sigh as her powerful self makes contact with me. Every time she hits me or I hit her she hears my whimper, or my serious breath.
My chest heaves as she steps back from me and assumes a blocking stance. I look into her eyes and she flashes me that grin of hers. Like a Cheshire cat. I watch her eyes and the depth disallows me to look further than what she plans to do next. After that I can't tell if she's hungry, turned on. I can't see it in her eyes.
But I can see her large brown pools looking straight into my own green ones. And I wonder constantly if I'm transparent.
Until she moves to kick me and I so eagerly block it and throw her down with moves of my own. I so easily end up a top her, legs either side of her, and hands grasping hers, telling her she's lost this round with my actions.
She chuckles slightly and I smile, and she pokes her tongue out at me. Our smiles fade as she gazes up into my eyes and again, I search for depth in hers. And as our faces become expressionless, and our breathing becomes the only sound, I know she can sense it.
That wanting is all real.
- - -
Even when we get down. We'd be at the Bronze. It'd usually start off with us sitting down, having a drink or two. I'd sit beside her, and we'd watch the bodies up on the dance floor, occasionally commenting on whatever happened to cross our minds. It was all a casual thing, until a song moved us to the floor. And the moment we started going, there was no stopping us. It wasn't a question of energy, for me anyway. I'm not about to say that Faith doesn't have energy that time of night; she's just like a vamp, comes out at night, too much energy to burn, lookin' for a kill.
But as we begin to dance and we sway our hips to the ballsy music, I start to really breathe. And she knows it. I let my lips loose, allow my breathing to go wild. And as we start to really get going, she can hear me no doubt, breathing onto her neck, just feeling what being close to her was like.
If me breathing close to her was anything like what her breathing close to me was like, then we better open us up another first page, cos that's a whole new story.
It's another warm, tingly, fuzzy buzz. As much as I feel it, I feel deprived of it when I don't have it. I flourish in the allowance of it, and each nerve of my body appreciates it when received.
I don't know if she can feel me shudder against her body when she breathes close to me. And when she touches me.
It's like a whole new realm of pleasure. I just imagine her hands roaming my entire body, and inevitably saving the best spot for last. But they say you can dream but it's never as good as the real thing.
She touches me…she touches me, alright. But I wonder if she knows.
It's like the buzzing is a whole other entity. It consumes me and vibrates me, moves me and oh…yes…
I love to feel it.
But when it's gone. I just can't. I can't be…me. I want her, I need her. I don't know if all this wanting is a Slayer thing. But I do know that without it, I can't grow.