Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

Warrior for the working day	By : LL72 Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > FemmeSlash - Female/Female Views: 14795 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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.

Chapter List
- 1-Warrior for the working day
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 4
- 5
- 6
Author’s note
Also starring
Lyndsy Fonseca as Zoe
Anna Popplewell as Emmy
Guest starring Ellen Page as Poppy Hellawell
*
Even without the demon massacres on her desk, Detective Kate Lockley still had plenty of murder cases to work on, humans showed an alarming propensity to kill each other without any supernatural intervention. It still rankled though, it might have made sense to bring in Slayers to help, but they shouldn’t be taking over. And even if they were in charge there should have been detectives involved as well, partly Kate thought, because they knew the ground, but also because she would have volunteered if it meant being surrounded by nubile young teens. Especially if the rumours, which buzzed round the Internet, of the loose morals of Slayers were true.
The Slayers had shown no interest in bringing in the LAPD. An entire floor of the building had been declared out of bounds, a succession of young women with a high powered automatic rifles, standing guard constantly. Kate’s only involvement had been when she’d been called into to repeat the words the student had said. The Slayer interviewing her had taken them down and then off-handedly dismissed them as the ravings of a broken mind. Kate had resisted the temptation to argue; though her detective’s gut was telling her there was some importance in a demon leader, who walked in the sun. At the very least it suggested it wasn’t just Vampires, or if it was everyone needed to get scared very quickly.
She parked her car in the car park beneath her apartment and then looked at her watch. The next door bar would still be open.
As normal on a weekday, the bar was quiet. The bartender was idly polishing glasses, sometimes glancing at the news channel. A few couples sat at the tables, enjoying an evening of companionship. The only other customer, a woman wearing black leather trousers and jacket, was sitting at the bar sipping a beer. The woman looked up as Kate approached, "Quick drink after work?"
Kate caught the barman’s eye, "You want one as well?" she asked the woman.
The woman drained her drink, "Thanks, my name’s Faith."
"Kate… two beers," Kate sat down. The woman was older than she first appeared, probably late thirties, rather than mid twenties. The toning of her body suggested someone who kept in shape, her uncalloused hands showed that her fitness regime was by sport rather than physical work.
"Hell of a thing, isn’t it?" Faith nodded at the TV channel. On the screen paramedics were carrying out bodies, sheets covered them to avoid showing on-lookers or the audience the extent of their injuries.
"Yes," Kate didn’t add that the police reports were saying there were close to two hundred dead after a demon had run amok in a old people’s village in Florida. The demon, as normal, was nowhere to be seen by the time cops arrived at seven in the morning.
"I heard a rumour that the cops have been taken of the massacres. The Slayer’s Council are dealing with it themselves," Faith said.
That wasn’t public knowledge as far as Kate was aware, she and all her colleagues had been reminded of the confidentiality clauses in their contracts when they’d be thrown out of their offices. Still, if police work taught you one thing, it was that nothing can be kept secret if more than two people know.
"The cops must be chewing at a brick wall in frustration," continued Faith, "if I was an experienced detective and was taken off a case, to be replaced by a teeny-bopper, I’d be wanting to know why."
"I assume," Kate felt she had to defend the decision, though she didn’t know why, "that the President knew they’d be more experienced in dealing with demons."
Faith shrugged, "If you agree with ‘Kill them all and let God sort them out’. I’m not sure the Slayers believe there is a colour grey."
"The law will protect those who are innocent," Kate paused; "You sound as if you know Slayers."
"I know them Detective Lockley," responded Faith. She drained her beer and got up, "I also know what you told them. Watch your back."
For a second Kate was speechless, she hadn’t told Faith she was a cop, and as far as she was aware no one had seen what she had said to the Slayer. She got her power of speech back as Faith pulled an envelope from her pocket.
"How do you know I’m a cop? she demanded.
Faith didn’t reply, she just pushed the envelope across the bar. "Be seeing you," she gave a small wave and walked towards the door.
For a second Kate almost followed her, but she realised her legs were shaking. The conversation had left her suddenly rattled. She downed her beer and ordered another one, then she opened the envelope, it contained a DVD and a brief note, "Call me, Faith," there was no phone number.
Sinking the second beer, Kate stuffed the DVD into the envelope and returned to her apartment. Her answerphone was blinking, but she ignored it and put the DVD into her machine.
It was a recording of her interview with the Slayer. It was always a strange experience watching yourself on film, Kate thought, it was even stranger when it was a seventeen year old asking the questions and the experienced detective was the one fidgeting nervously. She breathed a slight sigh of relief when the Kate in the film got up and left. The DVD continued running, as her Slayer sat for half a minute on her own. Then the door opened and a second Slayer came in.
"You heard our conversation?" her Slayer asked.
The newcomer nodded, "I watched next door."
"She filed a report on the survivors words," her Slayer said.
"I heard," the newcomer responded tartly.
"Make sure its shredded, then check the paperwork and see if anyone else mentions it, the Lieutenant’s reports, briefings, even filing lists. Then shred them as well."
The newcomer left, as a few seconds later her Slayer. For about two minutes the DVD just showed an empty room. Then it cut off.
Kate sat silently for a few seconds and then replayed the DVD. Then she played it again, just to make sure. She had suspected the Slayers were amateurs, but you never destroyed evidence, even if you thought it was a dead end. She took the DVD out and slid it between the pages of a dictionary on her bookshelf. The answerphone was still blinking and she went over and pressed it.
"Hi Kate, this is Faith. Ring me on…" she gave a number of a cell.
Kate picked up the phone and rang it. There was a gap of a few seconds, then she could hear Faith’s voice, "Hi Kate. This is a recording, so don’t bother saying anything. Let’s hope your filing system is chaotic. Oh, and make sure you go collect it tonight sometime between one and three. I’m sure with your wiles you can get past the guard."
Kate paused and then smiled as she realised what Faith was talking about.
*
"Dear Diary," Dawn wrote, "Pretty normal day today. Quarterly returns were up, but not enough to bore you with. Jayne Pollmer wore a very short skirt today, too short for her chubby thighs. Becky Gravowitcz, from accounts, smiled at me in the lift, however I think she has a boyfriend – worse luck.
"I’m worried about Buffy. I was driving by her house when I was sure I saw Willow and that slut she took up with after Tara, when I called at Buffy’s there was no answer. But they should have been home. I rang later and Buffy replied. But when I asked her if she’d seen Willow she almost snapped by head off. I changed the subject, but she was still pretty cross and didn’t speak long. I hope that seeing Willow (if it was) hasn’t brought back bad memories."
Dawn shut the diary and took it over to her shelf. She slotted it in at the end and looked at the dozens of hardbacked notebooks, which lay behind it. All her life, both real and fictional, lay in those closely written pages. She looked along the books, until she got to the one she was searching for. She opened it and looked for the entry she was searching for, seeing Willow had brought back memories. She quickly found it and went over to the table to read, it was an entry she hadn’t read for over twenty years – not since Tara had died. She sat down and began to read…
"Dear Diary
"Today me and Tara made love. Not the making out I’ve done with Janice, but proper passionate, full on sex. And it was fantastic.
"Buffy had told me that Tara was coming round, before she and Willow went out to hunt some vampire or other. I quickly showered and changed into that red dress – the one Buffy doesn’t like because she says it shows to much. I was worried it showed to little. I was really worried that Tara sees me as Buffy’s sixteen year old sister and I’m not – I’m a woman.
"It didn’t start well. Tara didn’t seem to notice my dress, even when I bent down, so that it showed my boobs. Instead after a few minutes conversation she went upstairs to pack up her things. I followed her and sat on the bed. She answered me politely, but it was a very one-sided conversation. I prattled on nervously and she gave a one, at most, two word reply.
"Suddenly she sat on the bed beside me, looking at a photo. It was of me, her and Willow, before we brought Buffy back to life. She mentioned how I’d grown since she’d known me. A little devil must have been sitting on my shoulder because I then said something so cheesy that I shudder even as I write it, ‘As my love for you has grown.’
"It is a terrible line and Tara must have thought so too, because she just sat there silently for a moment. I couldn’t stand the silence and babbled out how I’d always loved her, about how much she meant to me and that Willow was a fool, but I wasn’t (though given my previous comments she could have been mistaken for not believing me). Eventually I ran out of breath, at about the same time as my brain finally got engaged and I just stared at the carpet in embarrassment.
"I thought the silence would last forever and then Tara said, ‘Sometimes when I make love to Willow I imagine it you beneath me.’ Then she kissed me. It was a proper kiss with tongues and everything. Even as we were doing that I felt her hand beneath my dress, going under my panties. I’ve put my own fingers in my slit, but it was the first time someone else did it. I went wild as she played with my clit. I have had orgasms before from my own self-exploration, but they were nothing like this. I thought my head was going to explode with the pleasure of it.
"Then when Tara had finished jacking me off we got undressed. She really has a gorgeous body, so smooth, even her cunt was shaved. When she invited me to eat her I went to heaven. I dived between her thighs and started licking. I’m sure I wasn’t as good as Willow, but from Tara’s moans I think I gave a good account of myself. And when she started saying what she intended to do to me after I’d eaten I was so turned on I had to start fingering myself. Eventually Tara seemed satisfied that I’d given her enough orgasms. My mouth was full of her juice and my tongue was falling out of my mouth – it was heavenly.
"She told me to get on my hands on knees, while she got into the strap-on. I was excited at the thought of loosing my anal cherry, but also terrified. What if it hurt so much I couldn’t cope or even worse, what if I was so bad at it that she went back to Willow. Luckily, Tara was really kind. She told me to suck the dildo, so it was nice and wet. And when she went up me she did it really slowly, so I could get used to it. Only when I was ready did she start to pound me.
"And what a pounding it was. I had been expecting fireworks, but this was the 4^th July. I yelled and screamed in pleasure as Tara gave me sensations I didn’t know were possible. I begged and pleaded for more and for her to hammer me harder. She complied each time, my butt was bruised with her thumping into it, but the orgasms I had were well worth it. I don’t know how long she rode me, but eventually we stopped. We kissed for a bit more and Tara said we better get dressed before Buffy got home.
"I love her to bits. We’ve agreed to see each other soon. She’s promised not to say anything and I guess I better not mention what I’ve being doing to Buffy, as she’ll get mad. I hope sis doesn’t notice me limping tomorrow."
Dawn closed the diary, smiling at the old memory. She never had slept with Tara again, a few days later the witch was dead. She replaced the book on the shelf, before heading to her bedroom to relive the memories in another way.
*
Kate stepped into of the elevator and tugged down at her dress, exposing more of her cleavage than she had wanted to show the desk sergeant – lecherous old Irishman that he was. Downstairs, the station was as busier at two in the morning, than it was at any other time. Patrolling cops were pulling in drunks, vagrants, hookers and some who were probably all three. The desk sergeant had nodded briefly at her and then buzzed her through.
There was a ching and door opened. At the end of a corridor a bored looking Slayer was sitting at a small table, reading a copy of Elle. She briefly looked up at Kate, then returned to her magazine, obviously thinking Kate had got off on the wrong floor. She looked up again as Kate approached, Kate looked at the Slayer’s security ID, Poppy Hellawell, was emblazoned on it, next to an unflattering photo.
"Can I help you?" asked Poppy, with a tone that said she couldn’t and they both knew.
"Hi Poppy," Kate gave her most ingratiating smile and tugged the hem of the dress, pulling down the material to expose a bit more of her cleavage, "I was wondering if I could get some of my things. I’m working on this murder investigation and I seem to have a left a key file in my old desk."
The Slayer looked down at her badge as if surprised it had her name on it, "Sorry. Orders are no-one gets in."
Kate gave a pout, a mixture of sexiness and feigned disappointment; she always doubted that just going up and asking would get her in.
"Are you sure? I’ll only be two minutes; no-one need know," as she spoke Kate ran a finger down the bare skin of the Slayer’s arm. She could feel the teenager shiver. Kate smiled again, a smile ripe with possibilities.
"I don’t think so," Poppy straightened and moved her arm away, but with a seeming reluctance.
"Perhaps we could come to some arrangement," the tip of Kate’s tongue licked at her lips.
"I said, I don’t…" Poppy didn’t finish her reply as Kate dropped to her knees in front of her. The Slayer opened her mouth to and then closed it again as Kate slid her hands up her thighs until she found the elastic of the Slayer’s panties.
"Are you sure, we couldn’t make a deal," Kate slid a finger from each hand beneath the elastic and pulled down half an inch. Poppy gulped and didn’t say anything. Her eyes looked nervously at the elevator and then back to Kate. The older woman pulled the panties down a bit more, slowly dragging them so that they peeled away from the teen’s slot.
"Stop," commanded Poppy. Kate obeyed, but she didn’t remove her hands. The Slayer looked stricken, caught between her heightened sex drive and her orders. The sex drive won out. Poppy bit her lip in frustration, then said, "You can go in for five minutes, after…"
She didn’t need to finish the sentence for Kate to understand the quid pro quo she was being offered. Luckily the teen was the slender, good looking type that Kate went for, so she was more than happy to give her a munch. Kate finished pulling the panties down until they reached the teen’s ankles, shuffling back to allow Poppy to step out of them.
"Hoist up your skirt then," she smiled at the teen. Poppy did so, nervously, and Kate wondered whether she was afraid of being interrupted by a superior or off having her cunt eaten by someone she’d only just met.
Kate started with some light kisses on the pussy lips. Judging from the moans that Poppy made, this was a good start, so Kate slid her tongue out and ran it over the naked flesh. She made sure it didn’t enter the hole, until she could feel Poppy quivering with anticipation and the first drops of juice were sliding out.
Then she went in for the kill. She moved her hands up and pulled apart the tight lips, so that her tongue slid in easily. The hole was moist and soft, juice teased at Kate’s tongue as she slowly explored. Her tongue went everywhere, right, left, down and up, until eventually there was a high-pitched squeak of "that’s it," as she found the clit. Kate continued to explore, every few seconds briefly darting back to the bud and giving it a brief probe.
Poppy was sweating jizz, Kate could see the teen’s hands grabbing the table, a crack appearing in the wood as Poppy crushed her fingers against the wood. Kate decided to concentrate on the clit. Her tongue lapped against it, she could feel Poppy thrusting forward. One of her hands left the table and grabbed the back of Kate’s head, keeping her in position, even though Kate had no intention of leaving.
Poppy’s orgasm nearly bowled Kate over, and she wondered if the hand had been placed there to stop Poppy knocking her over as the teen shook back and forth squealing like a cat giving birth. Kate continued to hammer away, not allowing Poppy time to recover. The teen’s second orgasm followed quickly after the first and if anything the movement of the Slayer was more intense. Jizz flooded from her and Kate felt the nectar splashing against her, some sliding into her mouth and some dribbling onto her chin.
She lapped away, driving Poppy to yet another orgasm. Her tongue started to tire and Poppy was gripping her hair so hard, she was almost pulling it out by its roots. One more, should do it, thought Kate. She concentrated on making it a good one, pushing as hard against the bud as she could, and speedily licking.
"Oh yessss," screamed Poppy as she came for the fourth time. The orgasm seemed to push her into an series of incoherent babblings. Kate pulled herself away and stood up. Poppy collapsed back on her seat, her eyes looked glassy and there was a stunned smile on her face.
"I’ll be five minutes," said Kate and opened the door to the office. Poppy didn’t reply, she just gave a dreamy sigh.
She quickly got to her desk and opened her desk. It was filled with papers, her tendency was to print things, leave them on the desk and then scoop them into the desk at the end of the day. Once a week she’d then clear the drawer, throwing away all the paper she’d accumulated.
She searched through the papers and then found the one she was looking for. It was crumpled with her corrections marked in pen all over it. But importantly it had the date stamp marked inedibly on it, a stamp which showed when she had printed it and which the PC automatically supplied. To change it to a different time would take a computer genius.
Kate quickly scanned the paper. It was the original report, she had typed after the young student had spoken to her. Her formal report, had been tidied up, but this was the working draft. The grammar might be poor and it showed her tendency to get ‘our’ and ‘are’ mixed up, but it contained what the student had said. She folded the sheet up and placed it in her handbag.
Outside Poppy was still recovering. Kate bent down and kissed her forehead, "Night," she said and walked to the elevator.
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Warrior for the working day