They had me in the new place for less than five minutes before I realized I wasn't alone. I had been all for a transfer; Chowchilla was too filled with strung-out chicanas too busy trying to rip each other's extensions out to notice that their talons were flying at me by mistake. When the men wearing the black suits and the solemn expressions told me about a place for "people like me," I was wary, of course, but what the hell — it's not like I'm doing anything here.
I serve my time, I don't end up serving more time 'cause of any fights (yeah, slayer strength is great on the outside, but you try explaining why her brains are all over the concrete and you ain't got a scratch), and boom, Faith becomes a wholesome member of society, except for that nasty prison record. But I suppose it beats the gas chamber any day.
And, for five minutes, in my new spacious cell, I'm convinced that it's all mine, and I can do what I want. But then there's a shift in the air, or something, and I know I'm not alone. I don't know who the fuck is in the room with me, but there's something.
The something shifts again and takes the top bunk, the bedsprings squeaking as a heavy invisible weight lands on it.
Bitch.
For three days, it's like that. I sense something lurking in the corner, and when I turn, there's nothing. I see things move in the background, but there's no one moving them. I'm beginning to wonder if they stuck me in the fucking haunted cell or something, but I'm also getting pissed off. Sick of this fucking poltergeist/invisible/heebie-jeebies bullshit. And when I wake up in the middle of the night and hear the top bunk's springs creak rhythmically, and soft moans, I finally snap.
"I know you're there, you stupid shit," I say loudly. "I can hear you beating off up there, and if you don't show yourself, I'm going to take my goddamned pillow and smother you until you appear."
There was loud sigh, then a thump on the floor next to my bunk, and out of nowhere, this girl shows up. I can see through her at first, and then she slowly becomes solid.
She's long, lean, and looking very pissed off, and I can't ignore the faint scent of girlsex on her even as she's glaring at me. "What the fuck do you want?" she says, her voice low, husky, and gorgeous.
I sit up slowly, smoothly, acting like nothing's wrong and she's not intimidating me in the slightest. "Just wanted to see who I was bunking with," I say sweetly. "So I could give a description to the guards after you stick a knife in my back." I hold out my hand. "I'm Faith."
She raises an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing even more. "Fucking crazy bitch," she mumbles under her breath, but then she grasps my hand. Her hand is slightly warmer and it feels faintly sticky. Guess she likes to use her right hand to fuck herself. "Marcie."
I stand, still holding her hand, shaking it gently, then pull back my other hand to punch her in the face. She reels, fading into nothing again. "Fucking bitch!" I hear from behind me, moving just in time to feel only air pass by my head as she tries to hit me.
"So you're invisible," I say, my eyes closed as I follow her movements with my other senses. "Big fucking deal." I move to the left as another blow whizzes past my ear. "I still know where you are and what you're doing." I whirl around, reaching out with my hands as I push her to the ground, my hands gripping her shoulders as we fall. "Got you," I say, pinning what looks like nothing to the ground with my body, but I can feel her underneath me, her hipbones riding against me through her clothes. I laugh as she materializes, looking even more pissed off.
"What? Too used to people not being able to catch you? How'd you end up here then?" I lean in close, my mouth near hers. "Too busy getting yourself off to notice the cops sneaking up behind you?"
She gets one leg free, just enough to kick me in my thigh as one of her hands hits me in the side. I fall off of her, and she fluidly moves into a crouch, watching me closely as she fades into invisibility again.
But I know this game too, and I'm tracking her again, taking only five seconds (see that, Giles? I'm faster and better at this hunting thing than your precious little Buffy) to find her again and push her back onto the floor. She's on her knees and I push her face to the ground, my body on top of her. "Stay the fuck still,"I growl into her ear as I run my hand down her back. I spread my legs, resting my knees on either side of hers, and keep her in that position, ass in the air, face on the ground. Yeah, bitch, who's in charge now, huh?
She doesn't go willingly, though. I can still feel the tension in her body and the only thing keeping her from breaking my pretty little neck is that I still have a hand on hers, her short hair silky smooth against my fingers. "I can't believe you were getting yourself off up there," I say, my voice calm, cool, like we were having a fucking conversation about the weather. "I mean, here I am, and if I say so myself, I'm pretty damn sexy, and you could've just asked me to fuck you and I would have." My other hand is curious, sliding from her back to her chest, cupping one of her breasts, small but perfect, feeling the nipple burn against my palm. "Unless, of course, you're going to be a bitch about it and tell me you don't like girls that way..."
"Fuck off..." she says, but I know better, oh yes, because her back's arching underneath me as I pinch her nipple. I figure that she isn't gonna fight anymore, I ruined her first orgasm and the possibility of having a better one must be taking over that urge to kill me, and I release her neck, moving that hand to her other breast as she lifts herself up on her elbows.
If I opened my eyes, I would see myself groping nothing, but with my eyes closed, she's there, and her tits are perfect for my hands. But I gotta see them. I gotta see her if I'm going to fuck her, and oh yeah, I'm gonna fuck her. Fuck her hard enough that she won't ever fight me again.
I get off of her, grasping the back of her shirt collar to pull her up with me. "Fucking show up, bitch," I say. "Or else I'm going back to bed and neither of us will get any tonight." When she materializes again, I grin and slowly push her against the cell wall before I kiss her, my lips crushing hers. Her hands wrap around me, stroking my back and my neck, and I can feel her relaxing, submitting to me, and aw yeah, that's where it's got to be.
Her shirt is plain black, tight enough to show that she's a girl, but loose enough to fight in, and I start undoing the matte black buttons quickly, pulling the shirt away from her just as soon as I have it free. She wears no bra, and I lean down to finally suck at those nipples. They point upwards slightly, just begging me to lick, and I have to listen to them. She moans, her hips pressing against my body as her hands weave through my hair.
Suddenly, she lifts up my head, pulling me back up to kiss me wildly as her hands move onto me, cupping my tits, the fingers spreading out against them. Oh yeah, that feels fucking nice and I groan just a little, wrapping my arms around her neck as I take a few steps back, moving us towards the bunk. She lands on my bunk, bedsprings creaking, and watches as I peel off my shirt, breasts bouncing, and undo my pants. I stand in front of her, completely naked, and stare at her expectantly. "So you wanna do this or what?" I ask, looking at her tits, resisting my urge to suck at them some more, waiting until she unzips those plain black pants and shimmies out of them, leaving her just as naked as I am.
She's skinny, but it looks good on her, all angles and androgyny. The kind of girl you take to a bar just to see the femmes wait for her to buy drinks. But she's the femme now and I'm all butch, ready to do some serious fucking. This girl isn't gonna know what hit her, no way no how, and I fall on the bed next to her, kissing her roughly as my hands crawl over her body, exploring every inch of skin and bone.
My mouth and hands slide down between her legs, my fingers slipping between her lips. She's sticky and wet, and I can bet there'll be a very lucky girl on laundry detail tomorrow who'll get to sniff her panties. I spread her apart, looking at that desperate needing flush, then slowly, teasingly, kiss her — right there, right where I know she needs it.
She bucks her hips and groans, and that single sound inspires me. Eating out a girl used to be one of my favorite hobbies, and it's like riding a bicycle but so very not, because she's the one falling off. She's slick and delicious, and my tongue is reciting the alphabet against her clit, or maybe it's spelling out dirty words, and I'm not really interested in who I'm fucking or that we were fighting just minutes before, because I've missed this.
When she starts moaning on a regular interval, I pull away, just to hear her whimper, that sweet sweet whimper of utter need, and then I slide my fingers inside. Two go in slick and easy, so I add another, and when she's filled up with my perfect fingers, I start to fuck her.
It's hard work, finger-fucking a woman. Gotta keep your arm just right, and my arm muscles tense a bit, but that just makes everything better, and she's close, oh yeah, I can feel the tension in her thigh muscles, and I lean down just far enough to take one of her nipples in her mouth as I fuck her. She really starts twitching then, and she slides a hand down to rub her clit, to make this stop with a mind-crashing orgasm, but fuck no, girl, this is my ride, and I'm not letting you off until the car comes to a complete halt. I move her hand away with my left hand, my right still buried deep inside of her, and then start twirling around that sweet sweet spot with my left middle finger, quickly, slowly, back and forth until she shrieks — actually shrieks — and bucks against me a few more times, hard and fast and glorious, before slumping back onto the bed.
I pause for a second, listening for the sound of the guard's feet, coming this way to see who's killing who, but when there's no sound save her ragged breathing, I slowly slide my fingers out of her, trailing them up her body in a sticky line, until they reach her lips.
She kisses them gently before taking them into her mouth, licking herself off of each finger with a slow, steady motion that makes my knees buckle. Then she smiles, glances down towards my bush, which is giving a new meaning to the word "wet", let me tell you, and whispers, "I'm Marcie. I'm Invisible."
I slowly move back against the edge of the bed. "Right now, sweetheart, for all I care, you could be the Queen of England." I smile a mean smile at her as I spread my legs wide. "Now, get down and lick."
As she bends down between my legs, that mean smile grows into a grin and I just know, oh God yeah, right there, I know that this is the start of somethin' good...
This Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at http://www.dymphna.net/fanfic/. And you can feedback her at dymphna@dymphna.net.