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Witch's Faith
I wish Willow was a good witch.
I wish Willow was a good witch.
I wish Willow was a good witch.
I hope Willow never comes back.
Dawn had written the first wish in her journal time and time again in the past weeks. The other wish was new. She was crying and angry and couldn't understand why things couldn't be like they used to be. Like they should be. She missed Willow so badly. She would give anything for the sweet sounds of Willow and Tara together, trying to be discreet but loving each other too much.
She scribbled out the wish she didn't really mean, pressing hard, and slammed the book shut. She sat listening to Tara in the room down the hall. The witch was crying too. But Dawn was very relieved that Tara had accepted Buffy's invitation to move back in. She couldn't bear to lose both of her witches!
Tara unpacked her boxes into empty drawers, and hung a few things on empty walls. Unconsciously, she put her posessions just where they had been before she moved out. That left holes–empty drawers, empty shelves, empty spaces on the walls. An empty side of the bed. Holes that Willow used to fill. Like the aching void in Tara's heart.
Moving out had been hard. Moving back in was worse. She wondered if she would ever hear from Willow again. She wondered if her former girlfriend was even alive–Willow had become involved with highly dangerous forces. It had been a week since they had last seen the redhead–looking small and hurt, left behind at the Magic Box when everyone else went out to face the battles Willow could not be trusted in. There were rumors that the witch had been seen out at night. Nothing solid.
This was no ordinary vampire. Seven feet tall, muscular, and with a look in his eye that spoke of experience. Centuries of murder stared at Faith. Faith put her stake back in her belt and smiled, empty handed. She turned her back on fanged death and walked away. The vampire lunged out of the dark alley after the Slayer and exploded into flaming ashes behind her. She didn't even look back.
It didn't have the satisfaction of a good old-fashioned staking, but it had a certain style Faith could appreciate.
"Don't get used it," said Willow, approaching from across the street. "That was the last of them." The spell in the glass tube had worked perfectly, and the group of vampires who had made themselves impervious to daylight had discovered, one by one, that the sun's rays were now deadlier than ever. Much to their very brief surprise.
And the best thing of all? Word would get back to Buffy–but she wouldn't know who had stepped in to tackle the problem. Willow and Faith each privately cherished the thought of the day when Buffy found out who was out-slaying the Slayer. They would not reveal themselves until Buffy felt completely unnecessary. Unwanted. The way Willow and Faith had once felt themselves.
What would Willow do then? She didn't know exactly. Even now she didn't want to say goodbye to her friends forever. She wanted to win them back. Even Tara–no, especially Tara. Would Buffy and the others be willing to be the underappreciated sidekicks in a new gang? With Willow and Faith in charge? They would if they knew what was good for them!
Faith's fantasy was simpler: revenge. Hurt Buffy badly. Her mind and her body. Maybe kill her. And to hell with her friends. Buffy had always had everything Faith wanted. Had always made sure Faith knew it. Well, the tables were turning, B! She had the Slayer's witch... and soon she'd have the Slayer.
But despite their different motives, there was one thing they both felt. A real, growing friendship. They were each caught up intheir own power, and instead of making each other feel guilty about that, they shared it triumphantly. They understood the lure of power that nobody else seemed to grasp, and each girl wondered what she had ever done without the other.
Faith and Willow had one loose end left to tie up: pay the informant. The deal had been Faith's idea–the first step in building the base of power she sought.
The witch and the Slayer waited in the near darkness of the cemetery until, exactly at midnight, nearly a dozen demons and vampires emerged from the shadows.
The young vampire who stepped forward ahead of the others was short and slender with long, dark hair. Her movements were furtive, cautious. But she was the leader of this group. Her name was Elise. "Take a good look," she said.
The two girls memorized the creatures' faces–or at least, whatever happened to be on the fronts of their heads. Faith nodded. "We won't touch you. As long as you keep a low profile and feed me every piece of info I ask for–you're safe. If any activity comes up that would interest me... I hear it five minutes after you hear it. Or the deal's off." She put a hand on the stake in her belt to make herself completely clear.
Willow was silent. Seeking help from a vampire had been necessary to track down the daylight gang quickly. And they couldn't very well ask for Spike's help. But the deal with Elise had made Willow a little uncomfortable, especially when Elise insisted on extending it to her companions. Still, this would be a tremendous advantage to them. Eleven spies among Sunnydale's evil predators–Buffy should have thought of this long ago!
Faith continued laying out the terms of the agreement. Willow was reluctantly getting used to the idea that Faith, not she, was the leader in their partnership. "If anyone threatens any of you–let me know. And we're keeping an eye on the other Slayer, so we'll warn you of her movements. But if she finds you, you're on your own, so don't get cocky!"
"We understand. Expect a report from me nightly. I'll be right here. And I have your number." Elise beckoned to her followers and started to leave.
"One more thing," said Faith. "All kinds of filthy creatures will be wanting to join you now. Tough luck. If anyone wants to join our little arrangement, they must bring me something useful–in person. If the 4-1-1 wastes my time... I slay."
Elise's band departed. Faith's climb to power had begun
"Welcome home," said Willow, gesturing through the door with a smile and a flourish. She had found a very nice hotel to take the place of the motel where they had been hiding since Faith's release.
"Not bad. So how does a broke college student afford this?" They had two large beds, a separate living room, even a small kitchen.
"More to the point, how does Sunnydale Savings afford this?" Willow patted her laptop computer mischievously. A cord leading to the telephone glowed with purple energy.
Faith was impressed. Where had this new improved Willow been all her life? "Nice. So what's for dinner, honey?"
Willow pulled out a menu. "Room service. Anything we want!" She didn't think she'd ever get tired of the dark Slayer's approval. Someone finally appreciated her for who she really was! Who she had grown up to be. "Oh, and if anyone asks, we're Mr. and Mrs. Reese, ninety years old. That's who the staff see, anyway!"
They ordered a little food and watched TV, waiting for full darkness to go out on patrol. Willow thrilled to the Slayer's strong presence beside her on the couch. What was it that made Faith seem so alive? So powerful... Was Buffy the same way, and Willow had simply become used to it? She watched Faith out of the corner of her eye. No. Faith was something special.
Willow had just finished breaking into the police computer system–one more asset for them to draw on–when Faith burst in and slammed the door. She had been patrolling alone, and Willow was concerned. "Trouble?"
"Elise!" was Faith's one-word answer. Willow knew the vampire had been holding back the juiciest information again, trying to re-negotiate even more favors from the Slayer. Faith did not want to slay her–she had done well holding together vampires and demons alike. Her band had grown to sixteen. But if Faith had to make an example of Elise, she would.
A shower and a beer did not help Faith's mood. This whole endeavour seemed so pointless sometimes. What was it for? She was already out of prison... Sometimes she just wasn't sure she had the energy for longer-term scheming. In the end, she knew, her kind of power was just as dangerous to hold as Willow's kind. But that was weakness. Faith hated being weak.
She lay on her bed wrapped in a towel, brooding. Willow sat beside her and brushed her hair, and the Slayer grew calmer. The girl was so sweet sometimes. Faith had never thanked her again out loud, but inside she was grateful every day for Willow's presence. Who would have thought Red would turn into this?
Willow thought she knew what Faith needed in order to relax and get some sleep. She opened a drawer, took out some dried herbs, and pulverised them between her hands with a flash of light. Faith wasn't watching her. She sat down beside the Slayer again, behan a whispered chant, and placed her now-empty hands over the girl's ears. She was sure this spell would soothe her friend.
She began to question that theory a moment later, when she found herself kneeling doubled over on the floor with her face pressed sideways hard into the carpet.
"Don't you ever touch me like that!" Faith was furious, holding the witch down with one hand tightly gripping the back of her neck. "Don't you ever use magic on me, Red, or so help me it will be the last thing you do!"
Willow's first thought was that yet another friend was going to turn from her because of her magic. But fear for her life followed close behind. Did she really think she was more powerful than a Slayer? Not if the Slayer struck first, that was for sure. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll never do that again! No spells on you unless you ask me." She spoke slowly and clearly, trying to hide her fear.
Faith held her down for a long moment more–daring Willow to try to escape. Willow waited quietly, her neck in agony. Finally, Faith relaxed her grip. She sat on the floor next to Willow, out of the witch's sight, and rested her hand tenderly between Willow's shoulderblades. She knew she couldn't hurt this girl. She was too useful. And... Faith liked her. "Sorry about that. I don't like being messed with that way. Not for any reason."
"I understand. I'm sorry, too." But Willow didn't get up from her awkward position, or even turn her head to look at Faith. Someting about the way the Slayer was touching her made her want to prolong the moment. She was surprised to find she did not mind Faith trying to control her. She felt no urge to rebel as she would have if Buffy had given her a talking to about magic. Faith's power felt right to Willow.
Faith slowly slid her hand down Willow's spine. Or rather, up–Willow's buttocks were in the air, covered by her short dark green skirt. Faith admired the witch's body and felt sudden, uncontrollable desire. She had been out of prison for over a week and still hadn't had sex with anything more than her own fingers. The Slayer's hand cupped Willow's right buttock possessively and then slid down past the end of Willow's skirt. She stroked down the back of Willow's thigh, clad in black tights. Faith's hand stopped at the inside of Willow's knee and caressed back up Willow's leg–under the skirt this time–and Willow still had not moved or spoken. Faith took a deep, ragged breath. She did not know for certain that Willow was gay, but even if not, Faith wasn't sure she was going to be able to control herself.
"Willow..." she said, but got no response. She closed her eyes and caressed higher, finally moving her thumb over Willow's crotch. Even with panties underneath, the tights were wet to the touch. Faith pressed her thumb hard against her friend, the soft feel of the flesh under the fabric driving her beyond control.
"I need... I need to fuck you, Willow..."
Willow found herself too aroused to be shocked. She closed her own eyes and bore down against Faith's hand. There were no more words spoken. Just the sound of cloth tearing.
Continue to Episode 4 – Lovers.
Willow smiled back shyly. She felt very exposed. "Thanks for leaving me my socks." Everything else she had been wearing was now in shreds scattered to the four walls. Faith's passion had been downright scary at times. There had been no question who was the natural predator and who was the willing prey.
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