Taking Five
If there is one thing Faith Lehane knows about -- it's how annoying Buffy and her group of sanctimonious friends can be. She's got a stake in the inside pocket of her jacket and a couple of knives strapped to her forearms and it was a choice to stab/stake one of them or take it out for a patrol. A "patrol" that was more of a run than anything.
Faith liked the way her boots sounded pounding on the pavement. She liked the way the breeze caught her hair. There was something exhilarating in just running for the sake of it. It made her feel alive -- powerful. She slowed. She stopped. Feeling powerful was one of the things that had landed her in prison in the first place. She was here to set an example for all those potential slayers. To help train them -- for crying out loud. A role model -- even.
Even though she was barely breathing heavily -- she decided to call a time out. She didn't feel like heading back to the house yet. Her skin itched there sometimes -- for all she was used to masses of women in close proximity -- she needed her own space. Shutting a door was no hindrance to one of the other girls. Locking herself in the bathroom was completely out of the question. Faith chuckled a little wryly as she contemplated the chaos that might cause.
The tiny café was quiet. It was far enough away from the campus to not be a student hotspot and not really near enough the centre of town to pick up any passing trade. Most of the people in Sunnydale those who were prone to be out and about at night -- were wary enough by now to stick to the main -- well-lit areas. Or the bars.
Faith scrubbed her hand through her hair. She still wasn't technically old enough to get into the bars -- despite the fact that no one tended to card. Alcohol would just make the screaming match back at the house that bit more unbearable though. The café lights spilled out onto the sidewalk. Faith was perversely glad that the door didn't chime as she pushed it open.
"Have a seat --" called a voice from the backroom. "I'll be out in a minute."
Faith glanced around the small space and headed for the back wall. A cream leather bench seat ran the entire length of the wall -- with tables and stools arranged at intervals along it. There were a couple of more traditional tables and chairs in the window and the counter that jutted out between them. No space for anything else. Faith nodded at the man who sat nursing a mug in the window. He didn't look up from his book.
Soft music -- typical acoustic guitar coffee shop music -- started up and a girl came through the beads and ribbons that led through to the back room. Faith found herself slumping back on the bench -- spreading her legs a little and running her tongue over her lips. The girl's eyes snagged on the movement and Faith smiled crookedly. Perhaps there was another activity that would drive the sour taste of being second best from her mouth.
The girl -- Faith reckoned she was about her age -- wore a sweater -- jeans -- a red apron and a nametag. "Hi -- Amy?" Faith tried.
The girl looked down at her nametag and then nodded. "What can I get you?"
When the guy with the book finally left -- Amy stopped mopping the floor behind the counter and brought a couple of cookies on a plate over to Faith's table. Faith had drank her coffee black and bitter -- watched Amy pretend to clean and thought about what her lips might taste like.
"I'm closing in ten minutes --" Amy told her -- pushing the plate forward.
Faith broke a bit of the cookie off and nibbled it -- taking her time. She licked the last of the crumbs from her fingers. Amy's breath caught. "I'll leave then."
Amy brought her hand down to play with the broken remains of the cookie. She seemed hesitant for all that a smile was playing over her lips. "Want to keep me company while I shut the place?"
"Sure. And after?" Faith was glad that Amy felt bold enough to look her in the eye. She'd had enough of meek -- retiring -- hand-wringing girls. Faith leaned over the table. "Want me to keep you company then?"
Amy tucked her shoulder length brown hair back behind an ear and full-on smirked. Faith realised she was being played by something of an expert but really couldn't bring herself to care. "Sure --" Amy echoed -- pushing up to start closing cabinets and pulling down shades.
Faith finished her coffee.
Amy tasted of cherry cough sweets -- ever so faintly. Faith found she didn't mind. She knew she'd taste bitter and sharp and felt it counterbalanced that. They'd made it out of the café and up the street beside it before Faith found herself pushing Amy into the darkness of an alleyway. She could deal with just about anything else that might decide to investigate small noises in the dead of night.
Noises like the gasps Amy let out when Faith worked her fingers up her sweater and splayed her hand across the small of her back. The night air was chilly and Amy's skin felt fever hot under Faith's hand. Faith brought her other hand up to cup Amy's breast -- thumb brushing across her nipple. Amy arched into her -- body pressing ever tighter. She wasn't shy about reciprocating -- hands reaching down to cup Faith's ass. This was going faster and further than a few kisses -- a little petting.
Faith groaned into the kiss when Amy's hand slipped down past the waistband of her jeans and stroked firmly along the waistband of her panties. Then Amy's hand withdrew -- her body moved back and she stopped kissing Faith. Faith knew she looked a little pathetic when she attempted to chase her mouth when Amy pushed at Faith's shoulders to make her step back.
"Not here?" Faith said -- hopefully. Amy probably lived around here.
"Not..." Amy crossed her arms -- a forceful barrier between them - and looked down before meeting Faith's eyes again. "I know who you are -- Faith. I know you're a Slayer -- like Buffy."
"A Slayer -- huh --" Faith said -- a little roughly. "Is there anyone in this town who doesn't know about freaking Slayers?" About freaking perfect Buffy -- her jealous side shrieked. She tried to smile but could feel her mouth twisting in something that definitely wasn't humorous.
Amy dropped her hands to her sides again. "I've had my run-ins -- with them."
"Me too." The words were out before Faith could censor them. "Sunnydale High -- Class of '99?"
Amy nodded again. "I didn't want you to think it was a trick -- if later..."
"If I mentioned you to them? Why would I do that? Think I want to tell Miss Epically Straight that I've fucked one of her friends." Faith's dark mood lifted a bit when Amy jolted at her coarse words. It wasn't a jolt of shocked disinterest -- that was for sure.
"I didn't say we were friends."
Faith was right. Amy's apartment wasn't far away from the mouth of the alleyway. It still took them more time than it strictly should have -- what with Faith pushing and Amy pulling and the hot -- wet -- deep kisses and caresses that they shared along the way.
Faith could return to the house and the potentials and Buffy and everything in the morning. She didn't have to be a role model here and now. Amy lay back with her hair spread wide on white pillowcases. Faith followed her down.