Summary: A short one shot that treads heavily on the side of angst.
Timeline: Post Season 7
Rating: NC17
Pairing: F/B
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, unfortunately. They are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and whoever else owns them. I make no profit from this.

She gets me so fucking angry I wanna throw stuff, and break stuff, and scream until my lungs are raw. Nobody else has ever gotten me so mad. It only takes one word from her, one push and I’m tearing at my hair and climbing the walls.

She doesn’t get it though, and gets all judgmental and snooty, like I can’t have feelings. I’m not allowed to get pissed off when she tries to make me change who I am. I have to nod and listen and go along with everything she says, but some days I don’t wanna do that. I’ve never listened to anybody my whole fucking life. I’ve always done what I wanted, when I wanted. She gets it fucking easier than she’ll ever know.

I could just get up and walk away forever sometimes, just to keep my sanity, but in reality. . .I know I could never do that. I get to the street, then feel completely lost without her. I just wanna fall to the floor and cry my heart out, cause I need her, and it hurts so much to need like that.

Today, it’s another day that she’s telling me to go to college, to get myself an ‘education’. I don’t get it. . .I don’t see the point and don’t wanna waste my time on crap like that when I could be dead by the end of the night from some lucky vamp or demon.

She tells me I should have more pride in myself. That I’m smart and should use it. Fuck. . .I do use it, every fucking night. I’m still alive cause I use it. I don’t wanna go spend my days sat in a stuffy classroom, reading shit I don’t care about, just to ‘fit in’ with what society thinks I should do.

I never spent much time at school, and I’m not about to start now. . .so we fight. We yell, I storm off, and she gets wicked pissed off at me for leaving, while I’m pissed off at her for pushing me into doing what I don’t want to.

It’s like a never ending roundabout, where we’re clinging on cause we can’t let go, but it’s driving us insane at the same time.

This is us though. This is me and Buffy. We love so much that we hurt each other with it when we don’t need to. It’s hard loving and needing and wanting that much. It’s hard to compromise. It’s hard to take a step back. It’s hard to not cling so much you’re suffocating each other.

I’m sat outside the house right now, waiting for my fists to unclench, waiting for my lungs to stop burning, my heart to stop pounding. Once the pounding settles, that’s when the ache begins. I know at that point that I can’t stay outside much longer and not break down. I can’t be away from her, not knowing what she’s doing, how she is. . .for too long. My heart needs her. I need her.

* * *

Faith is sat out there right now in the cold night air, I can see her by the tree, sat on the grass with tears streaming down her face. I want to go out there and hold her, but it’s my fault she’s like that. I did it. I push when I know I shouldn’t. I ask when I know the answer already. I wish I could stop myself, but it seems we’re always stuck in the same loop. . .and I don’t know how many more times we can do this.

How much longer is she going to put up with me? How many more times can I drive her out of the house in a rage?

I try to hold back and not say the wrong thing, but she gets so sensitive when she thinks she’s being told what to do. She jumps on the defensive when all I want to do is help her, give her advice or encouragement. I always get it wrong.

I’ll stay in here, crying too. My heart so swollen with love for her that I can’t feel it beat unless she’s near. Unless I know we’re safe. I worry that we’re not, though. I worry that I’m gonna screw it up because I can’t keep my mouth shut and just let her be who she is.

I fell madly in love with who she is, so I don’t even know why I want to change that. Why I want to make her see more in herself. Maybe because I see it, and I want to share in it. I can’t force her to do that, though. . .I think I’ve finally come to realise it. She is who she is. She’s flawed.

She’ll always leave the toothpaste lid off. She’ll always put the milk back in the refrigerator when it’s sour. She’ll never fold her clothes away. She’ll always want to party when I want to sleep. She’ll always prefer to sit and watch cartoons rather than go to college. She’ll forever have so much potential, but I can’t force her to use it. She’ll forever be the love of my life, and I’m risking it because I’m so damn stubborn with her.

I’ll put it right, though. It’s my turn to apologise. It’s my turn to put right the wrong.

* * *

I guess I should head back in. I hate to think of Buffy crying, and I know she will be. We start with harsh words, but we always end up sobbing for each other, just wanting it to be right. To be ok.

I’ll keep storming off, and I’ll always end up back in her arms, slowly, tentatively. . .just trying to piece things back together again.

I get up, my limbs stiff from being held so taut. My eyes blurred from the tears that I hate to cry. I don’t like spilling my emotions so visibly, but she gets me doing it so easily. Love is like a double edged sword for me. On one side of the blade it’s heaven, it’s perfect, it fucking blows me away. She blows me away. But on the other. . .it cuts, it pierces my heart so deep I can barely breathe, it turns into hell when we fight or misunderstand each other.

I wouldn’t change it, though. I couldn’t. Not know. She has a grasp of my heart, of my soul, and I’ll never be free from it. I never want to be.

I push the front door open slowly, my eyes searching the room ahead for her. I don’t see her and start to panic. No matter how tough she is, or how much her pushing causes this, I know. . .it makes her crumble just as much as me.

I call her name, a crack in my voice from all the tears.

“Buffy?” I call out, shivering as I finally realise just how cold it was outside.

She doesn’t answer, and my heart pinches in my chest. I head to the back door to make sure she didn’t leave by it. I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not ever.

I know I’m over reacting, but we hurt each other so much with these stupid fucking arguments. It cracks us, marks us. . .and though we fix each other, replace the lost pieces with more love, it still makes me worry. Worry for how long we’re gonna last like this. How long I can get away with being an ass, and she can get away with treating me like one.

I close the back door, having looked outside, and stand in the kitchen just trying to calm my breathing down. Trying to get my brain together. I hear a bang from upstairs, and fly into full on dread mode. She’s told me on many occasions that she can’t live without me. . .maybe she thought I’d gone for real this time.

I run to the stairs and fly up them, heading straight for our bedroom. She’s not there, and the tears start flowing from me once again. I know it’s insane to think she’s done anything stupid, but our love is so fucking all consuming. It’s all we have. I have nobody, and now with her mother dead, Dawn gone to college, the Scoobs scattered around after the fall of Sunnydale. . .Buffy is pretty much alone too. So we cling to each other and our love, and we harm each other with words that are unnecessary, and I fear that it might all fall apart because I can’t seem to hold it together.

“Buffy,” I call out again, my voice so shaky you can’t even tell that it’s me.

I launch myself into the bathroom at the same time, and see her. My beautiful Buffy. My heart and my soul.

“B?” My heart is fighting to leave my chest as she lays lifeless in the steaming bath water.

“Faith. . .” she says quietly, “don’t say anything, just join me.”

I look down at her, barely able to see for the tears in my eyes. She’s covered in bubbles. Her hair piled on top of her head so it doesn’t get wet. She hates it getting wet in the bath.

I smile despite the anguish, the pain, and the remnants of the argument. I can’t help but smile at her. She’ll always be my angel. My saviour, despite everything we do to mess it up. We’ve hurt each other so much in the past, so much with silly words even now. . .but we’re meant to be together.

I peel my clothes off, my skin chilly and sore from the cold. From the fear of losing the most important thing in the world to me. The only thing in my world.

Buffy watches as I strip, her eyes travelling over me with such love. Such adoration and desire. I feel like blushing, and I’m not the blushing type. She just looks so deep within me. She sees so much.

* * *

I love Faith’s skin, it’s so soft, so delicate, even with the hard muscles and her few scars. The fact is. . .I love to just look at her, then touch her with my fingertips, whispering them over her so I can feel every little dip and curve. So I can memorise everything about her. All the things I love and cherish.

This is how it is when we fight. At some point we just stop. We come to a head and realise there’s nowhere else to go. We can’t part. . .so we find our love for one another amongst the hurt, and we crawl back to each other.

I smile a little in answer to her own smile. She steps out of her panties, throwing them onto the pile of her clothes, then she steps into the warm water of the bath. I move my legs for her to sit in front of me, my eyes not leaving hers for a moment. Not wanting to because her eyes make me feel so loved. So whole.

I sit up to meet Faith half way, my hands finding hers in the bubbles all around us.

“I thought you’d be cold,” I say, as I look down, suddenly unsure of myself, trying to explain why I ran a nice hot bath full of bubbles for her.

“I was,” Faith answers, her voice low and gravely, her eyes snagging mine again in the shimmering candle light.

“I love you,” I whisper, as our fingers twirl around each other in the water.

“And I love you,” she says, another tear escaping to roll down her cheek.

We lean towards each other, our lips meeting so gently. I can feel her hot breath tickling over me as we kiss so slow, so tenderly, all our love exposed. She slips her tongue over mine and I taste her. Taste her fear, her need, her desire.

My hands move up her arms, cascading water over them and warming her up. Warming us both.

Faith pulls me a little closer, her strong hands on my hips, holding me solid but with such care. I moan a little into her mouth, unable to hide how much she moves me. How much she sweeps me up with every touch and kiss.

I slip my hands, my fingers, over the hard curve of her collar bone, then down. One hand resting over her heart, I wait to feel the power of her heartbeat through her skin. I feel it strong against my palm, beating for me as mine is beating for her.

I’ve never been so sure of love. Never known this pure feeling. This need. Craving and desire. It’s overwhelming, but I love immersing myself in it. I love immersing myself in Faith.

I whisper against her lips, “I love you so much.”

She whispers back, and I feel it throughout my entire body. It hits my very soul. It protects my very soul.

As I leave one hand pressed against her heart, our bodies close and hot in the steaming water, I move the other further down. Dipping it into the water. Brushing my fingers over her pussy.

She sighs, her kisses becoming deeper, her right hand moving between us. I feel her part my lips with her fingers, my arousal seeping out over them. My need for her truly evident.

I slide one of my fingers over her clit, pressing down just a little as she does the same to me. Our actions in unison, our breathing quickening in the rising heat.

We’ve made love a thousand times. We’ve fucked a thousand more. Every time feels new, feels special. It’s like our little secret between us. Only we know how good it feels to love each other. Only we know that it feels like we’re carrying each other to our own private heaven, to adore each other. To cherish and to worship.

Our fingers press harder, move quicker in the slickness of our desire for one another. She rubs right on my swollen clit, knowing that it gets me quivering for her. I gasp, pressing against her, my palm still feeling the drumming of her heart.

She breathes my name against my forehead as I lean into her, my fingertip swirling fast around her pussy, touching her everywhere she likes to be touched. Pushing her to the edge with me.

We both start to shake, little moans escaping. Our bodies hot and pussies wet for each other. She clings to me, and we both come, every ounce of love and longing pouring out.

I can feel tears on my face, and I don’t know if they’re mine or Faith’s. Probably both.

We love so much, we need so much, and sometimes we forget that we’re two separate people, with different ways of thinking. Different ways of being. We’re both driven by how much we mean to each other, however, and that will always keep us strong. Keep us together.

We’ve fought in the past, to the death. . .yet still we cling. Still we want more.

I couldn’t live without her now. She’s my other half. She’s my heartbeat. My need to stay alive with every vampire we come across. My need to keep hold of what we have, no matter how much we can hurt each other when we lose sight of what’s important.

I love Faith, and she loves me, and until death decides to part us. . .we’re destined to be together through thick and thin.

“Thank you,” Faith breathes softly into my hair.

I move back a little and kiss Faith’s nose, then look deep into her beautiful eyes. “Thank you, Faith, for being mine.”

“I was always yours, and always will be,” Faith assures me.

I feel it completely, and I feel it for her just as completely.

I was always hers. I was always waiting for her to rescue my heart.

The End



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