Semper Fidelis | By : potmunkey Category: BtVS AU/AR > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 5968 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Semper
Fidelis
Pairing: F/B, F/Other
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't sue me, I'm poor, I
make no money from this.
Summary: This is kind of Cruel Intentions-y world. Not in the sense that this story involves any
of the characters from CI, but just the setting – rich, high society,
debutantes and the like. Faith and Buffy
are together, very wealthy, living together in a penthouse in Manhattan,
but don’t have a relationship. Not
really. You’ll see… Also, angst warning!
A/N: Sorry, I don't really know where I'm going with this... let me know if you loveit or hate it or if you have suggestions.
I’m sitting in the living room reading the latest issue of
Vogue when I hear Faith trying to get rid of her latest plaything, and I
mentally roll my eyes. This is always
the same, she brings home some random fuck, has her
way with them, then makes up some lame excuse, gets rid of the girl, and goes
back to bed. Though sometimes I just
wish…
“Sorry, baby, you gotta go.”
“Are you sure? We
can—”
“Yeah, I’ve got a… um… a… uh… yoga… yeah… yoga appointment
in like ten minutes.”
“Oh, well maybe we can do lunch?”
“Nope, sorry, babe, I’m busy today.”
I can hear the disappointment in her voice, “Oh… well…
okay.”
“Bye.”
“Call me.”
“Whatever,” she mutters as she closes the door after her.
“Y’know, I wish you'd stop doing things like that,” I don’t
even bother to look up from my magazine.
She raises an eyebrow, “I'm sure there are lots of things
you'd like me to stop doing, you have to be more specific honey.”
“I wish you’d stop treating women the way you do, like
little toys that you can play with whenever you please; only to discard them
when you get bored. I swear, you're worse than a lot of men I know.”
“What would you like me to do then, sweetheart? Settle down and have a meaningful
relationship? Fall in love maybe?”
“We both know that’s
not going to happen,” I roll my eyes – for real this time.
“What? Having a
meaningful relationship or falling in love?”
“Both.”
She just continues to smirk and takes a seat next to me.
I sigh, “What am I going to do with you?”
“I think the question you ought to be asking is: ‘What am I
going to do to you?’” she leers,
leaning over and placing soft kisses along my jaw line. When she reaches my mouth, she pauses briefly
to run her tongue across my lower lip and I allow her entry. I place my hand behind her head, pulling her
closer, tangling my fingers in her dark tresses. I smile into the kiss when I feel her hand
slither up along my inner thigh. I slide
down in my seat, spreading my legs a little to allow her better access.
I don’t know why I always let her do this to me… take
advantage of me… use me… but I do know why… I let her because it feels
good. So what if she doesn’t love
me? You can’t have your cake and eat it
too…
I roll over and look at the vanilla scented candle burning
on my nightstand. I’m transfixed by its
small flickering flame, casting its glow around the room, I watch as it causes
the shadows to dance on the wall behind it.
Reaching over, I pick up the candle.
I spread out my fingers, passing my fingertips thru flame back and forth
a few times. Funny thing about fire, the
way it moves in any direction it wants, destroying anything in its path, yet
still so… magnetic. But, if you’re
careful, you can touch it, but just briefly, if only to feel its warmth. Try to leave your fingers there too long
though and you get burned.
Taking a cigarette out of my designer case, I use the candle
to light it. I take a leisurely drag and
use the smoke to blow out the candle, leaving me in the dark. I take another long, slow drag. The room is cold; the bright orange cherry of
my cigarette is my only warmth. Looking
at the sleeping figure next to me, I sigh.
There’s no warmth there.
I stub my cigarette out in the crystal ashtray that also
resides on my nightstand and close my eyes.
I will sleep to come. It never
does. Why does this always happen to me
after we have sex? I get up, this is
useless.
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