Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project
Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project

Used
By Pesha
For Kat M.

"So you're what? The Dark Slayer?"

The insolence in her tone was just verging on Faith's absolute Last Nerve. Faith had managed to curb her itchy Slayer finger -so to speak- and keep things in line. Five by five and all that shit. She was a woman on a mission. It was down to the end game, baby, and Faith was not going to let some snotty-nosed little wannabe steer her into throwing down rough and dirty. No sir. Not this Slayer.

Faith was going to prove to Buffy Summers -Ms. Slayer, The- that she could be good even if she were born to be bad. Even if it killed her to do it. Even if she'd rather kill this gung-ho Xenalite instead of do it.

"Look, girlie, I don't know who you think you are or what you think this is all about, but whatever it is? It don't go down like that with me. Not with this Slayer, not on this day. Hell, not on any day. You want to label someone, you stick to your own kind. I'm sure Hat Girl and Jo-Jo over there can fit you into their busy social schedules should you want to find a hip new street name for all the other little Slayerettes who didn't make the Cool Clique."

Kennedy simply blinked and pursed her lips lightly. "You always talk this fast or is this some kind of advantage to the whole Slayer package?"

"Shit, you're already admitting you can't keep up? Girl, you need to find a new hang-out because clearly this isn't the place for you if you're that easy."

"Oh, I'm that easy. I was just wondering if Slayer reflexes increased the speed at which you could move your tongue or if you'd simply had too much caffeine. Either way," Kennedy shrugged one lightly-muscled shoulder, "Still tasty."

Faith wondered what they were spiking the damned water with here in Sunnyhell. People sure weren't this....friendly when she'd last been in town. She'd had to resort to wrestling it out with Harris then. Definitely scraping the bottom of the barrel with that one. Although he looked like he'd shaped up some since then. Maybe she should see if he was feeling up for showing some appreciation for the bone she'd thrown him back in the day.

Then again. It wasn't that nice of a bone so maybe it wasn't worth Faith's mad fighting skills to rough him up for it.

Faith smirked in challenge, "You supposed to be sayin' somethin', chicklet? Should I be what? Shocked? Amazed at your daring do?"

Those ridiculously sensuous lips tipped up again, mockingly it seemed, but Faith was always ready to jump to the worst possible conclusion. It's what made her "The Dark Slayer."

"I was hoping you'd be interested. I could use a little spice in my life."

"What you sayin', Killer? Witchy Woman not good enough for you? You need some real action to get your rocks off?"

Kennedy laughed so unexpectedly that Faith found herself laughing too. It was like they were sharing something...naughty.

Bad girls thinkin' bad thoughts about doin' bad things while all the good folk get their beauty sleep, Faith thought with a saucy wink at her current partner in crime.

"Willow is enough for any woman, I think, but she's not quite over her ex, and I'm not yet desperate enough to be anybody's stand-in. You alright with that? Or do I have to worry about being your rebound lay too?"

There was a quiet pride that lay underneath Kennedy's arrogant posturing. Faith thought it seemed vaguely familiar until Kennedy tilted her head back just a bit, baring her throat brashly. Familiar alright.

B all over again. Think you're so fucking perfect, I bet. I'd say you think I'm lucky just to be breathing your sainted air, don't you, you stuck-up bitch? I'll show you proud. I'll show you just how proud you can be on your knees, begging me to be just a little gentle.

Faith caught Kennedy's elbow in a steely grip and steered her downstairs to the empty basement. She already knew where the pet vamp had gone off to: chasing Buffy down to confirm all Her Highness's opinions of herself.

Fuck that.

Faith knew where she stood in life and it was several rungs up the food chain from where this little reform-school drop-out was standing.

Kennedy didn't offer any protest though. She even gave another soft little titter of a laugh. Faith's grin was almost feral as she realized that the dumb bitch was likely congratulating herself on an excellent snag. She'd gotten what she wanted, right? Faith, The Dark Slayer, off for a quick 'n dirty tussle in the basement while all the other pretty princesses slept on oblivious upstairs.

'Cept shit don't go down like that for Faith. Faith made her own rules for a reason. She'd already learned the hard way that things came down to doing it one of two ways: yours or theirs. As far as Faith was concerned, she was still on top of that wrestling match. She did everything on her terms.

Faith ignored the rumpled cot in favor of leading Kennedy over to the exercise mats. She sat down on the edge of the padded balance bar -long unused since both she and Buffy had bypassed that stage of the Slay game a while back in the day- and tugged Kennedy down to her knees in front of her. Spreading her thighs, Faith cocked a brow.

"You need help figurin' it out, kiddo? Want me to draw you a handy little map?"

Kennedy's cheeks looked flushed -embarrassment or lust? Faith didn't really care, but it might have made it more interesting to her to know one way or the other- and her eyes were almost fathomless as they seemed to eat away at Faith, raking her from head to toe, making her wish she didn't know how lacking she was since she wasn't----someone else.

Buffy fuckin' Summers.

Slayer-Comma-The.

Accept no substitutions and all that shit.

Fuck it.

Faith didn't need to think about any of that. Seizing Kennedy's hair she pushed the girl's face forward into her crotch and asked softly, "You still confused? You still think you're in charge? Let's see if you can take orders as well as you give 'em."

Kennedy made a muffled sound that could have been a moan, a groan, a sigh, or even a fuckin' hallelujah from what Faith could tell. It felt like a purr though and it vibrated her cunt all the way through her jeans, making her leak sticky, heady readiness in a steady stream.

Always be prepared, Faith thought with a greedy thrust of her pelvis against Kennedy's pretty face, Isn't that what the Boy Scouts say? I fucked a Boy Scout once. Hell, I fucked him once all night long and I bet he never even told B how much he loved it. How much he loved fucking with me so much more than fucking with her. He likes a girl who knows how to drive instead of just lay there and be driven.

Kennedy was panting now from the pressure Faith was putting on her skull, using her hair as a handle, she was doing some kind of driving all right. She seemed inclined to drive herself right over the edge just for the thrill of coming all over Kennedy's face.

....and all without even giving her a taste too. Hot tears were soaking Faith's crotch and mingling with her own bitter juices.

She jerked lightly, right on the edge and felt herself tense as the bitch fucking bit her on the next grinding thrust of cunt-to-face.

Kennedy's perfect white teeth pressed lightly, then harder, then lighter again, mouthing her through the well-worn denim and sucking on the fabric for just that hint of her. Faith came on that high alone.

She let her captured hank of hair free and used the heel of one hand against Kennedy's damp forehead to push the girl backwards onto the mat. Kennedy just lay there, panting, arms flung wide in what Faith was willing to take as supplication.

Good enough any way.

"Such a good little slut aren't you? I bet you'd do anything for me right now. Anything to let you get into my panties just a little bit more. Touch me. Taste me. Feel me from the inside."

Kennedy was nodding almost furiously, tears of frustration and incomprehension leaking out of the corners of her big, hostile eyes.

Faith thought she'd gotten what she'd deserved, but maybe not quite enough to make it worthwhile. To make it last.

"I'm not B, baby. I don't need to make some glorious speech about how I'm so much better. I think actions speak louder than words."

Then Faith was on her. She slid from the balance bar down to straddle Kennedy's thighs -harder and surprisingly bigger than she'd expected- and grapple with her big, stupid belt. Kennedy moved to help her and Faith sent a ringing slap across her hands first and her cheek second.

"I talk. You listen. I touch. You feel. Got that? Any more questions?"

Kennedy was still leaking a bit at the eyes, but she nodded seriously all the same, pearly-whites sank into the ripe fruit of her lower lip to keep herself from giving a verbal reply.

Faith tugged hard in impatience and the button popped off Kennedy's jeans and the zip tore free of the cloth. She was wearing black lace under all that macho gear and bravado.

Five-by-fucking-five.

Two rough jerks accomplished the removal of Kennedy's jeans and the insertion of three of Faith's fingers into the tight tunnel that was barely being covered by that scrap of black lace masquerading as Kennedy's underwear. She twitched and spread her thighs wider as Faith simply shifted to ride one thigh instead of two.

"Oh you're such a greedy bitch, aren't you? You want to call me ma'am? Or sir? What does it for you? You want a mean ole Dark Slayer to come and fingerfuck you til you bleed or do you secretly soak your panties for the idea of some hard-body to come along and introduce you to a real fuck?"

"No."

Faith slapped her again and she shut up. It didn't matter what the answer was for or even if it was a signal to stop because she was tired of playing.

Faith wasn't fucking tired of playing.

She rubbed her wet crotch against Kennedy's bare thigh and loved the rasp of denim against her bare pussy, against Kennedy's soft skin. She'd leave her marks behind alright. She wouldn't forget her soon. She'd be begging that little witch upstairs to let her sleep in the dead girlfriend's shadow if that was all she could get. Anything just to get away from this. From now.

Kennedy whined softly as Faith worked her clit hard with her thumb and slowly pressed in until all four of her fingers were stretching her out, opening her up, churning into her with every surge of Faith's rocking motion as she rode her thigh to another high.

Kennedy screamed her name as she rippled and rocked and writhed beneath Faith's weight. Faith gave her a few cursory circles as she came down from her own orgasm, the haze of bliss leeching the hate from her actions.

Her fingers came free with a soft wet sound and Faith licked them curiously as Kennedy stared at her in something halfway between terror and awe.

Just a hint of copper tinged the taste of girl for her.

There was a bit of fire in her blood after all. Good.

Faith stood up and stretched long and languid as Kennedy lay too still to be natural beneath her. She could practically scent the soft tang of blood in the air and vaguely, Faith wondered what it would be like to fuck a vampire for real. If they'd appreciate the copper penny taste tingling in the back of their throat the same way or if it were really that different when they got turned. If they'd want to lick the wannabe's cunt, suck it til all that sweet sweet sting were gone and their own ears bled from the sound of their name being screamed that long and that loud and that now.

Then she didn't care.

"Five by five?"

Kennedy nodded swiftly, eyes wary and wanton.

Good. There was a war on and Faith intended to win it. B shouldn't have all the fun after all. That's why times like these were invented.

She mounted the stairs without looking back to see Kennedy crawling around after her pants. Faith never needed to look back. They all looked the same after they'd been used.