notes and disclaimers: original story is all characters proprty of large corporate entities. no profit garnered ever.

IN THE ABSENCE OF SUN (different kinds of crazy mix)

"She really buys that?" Faith spreads her legs and laughs. She lights another cigarette.

Buffy pulls up the bedspread. Unlike Faith, she's not particularly comfortable being naked. She wonders how many times she's going to act like this after they fuck before Faith comments on it. Maybe this happy moment where Faith is just lying on the bed, legs apart and cigarette-free hand idly down there is Faith's comment. Buffy says, "Willow's got a lot of stuff going on."

"She's glad you're gone," Faith says, not unkindly. Maybe Buffy just thinks it and Faith says it. Maybe prison taught Faith telepathy.

"She's not glad I'm gone. Well, Dawn isn't." Buffy thinks about looking for her clothes and instead grips the bedspread tighter.

"Then why even come?" Faith grins. "Oh, wait, I know why you came." She waves her hand, and then goes back to touching herself. Taking a walk through the pink pages, Buffy thinks and doesn't even blush.

"Maybe I actually wanted to talk to Wesley," Buffy says.

"But you came here first," Faith says.

"I don't come with Wesley." Buffy pushes the bedspread down. "Are we going to keep talking about this?"

Faith flicks her cigarette into the half full cup of beer on the floor. She takes a moment to grin, proud of her accomplishment and then turns back to Buffy. The full force Faith look. Buffy blushes this time and her thighs clench. Faith says, "Do you want to come for Wesley?"

Buffy starts to deny it but in the second it takes her to open her mouth, Faith is pushing her back down on the bed, kissing her, pushing Buffy's legs apart again.


Spike leans against her car and says, "Off to see your Slayer?" He sniffs the air, to make it clear that he knows. "Or was that last night?"

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy says. She pushes him off the door and gets in. He blocks her from slamming the door.

"It's not like I'm going to tell your friends. Do you think they'd believe me?"

Buffy grips the steering wheel and stares at the empty parking lot. She is really sick of the night shift at the Doublemeat Palace. She's sick of everything, she thinks and almost laughs. She has that thought every day, every hour. "What do you want? Exactly?"

"I wish you'd talk to me," he says.

He thinks he's in love with her. Buffy prefers Faith's brand of insanity. She guns the engine and he's smart enough to step away before she runs him over by going in reverse.

From the road, she leaves a message for Dawn. "Wesley called, he needs some help. I'll be home in the morning." Wesley really did call. She really does go see him. She's helpful, comforting Buffy.

His apartment is depressing. She always feels like something of a traitor walking in the door and so she smiles and practically sprints. Just a tiny traitor moment if she goes really fast. Angel is Angel and Angel is a big bundle of important and huge things but she can't hold his grudges. Not against Wesley. When she came back, Wesley and Faith, always separately, were the ones who didn't want something from her. Not much from her. It's only 20% painful. Her smile is probably a little real when she thinks that and that's reason enough to keep going into the den of dark and stubbly.

"I would dearly love a drink," Wesley says, trying to make it sound light and free. "But it all appears to be gone."

"Gremlins," Buffy says. "After midnight, they're a bunch of lushes." She doesn't bother to unbutton her jacket. "Pick a bar." She thinks about Faith and says, "Pick one that's close."


"It's almost like we're out in public, on a date," Faith says. She's drunk but her words don't slur. She looks over her shoulder at Wesley. "You going to pretend you've never done this before?"

Buffy drinks some of the whisky Wesley sent over. She runs a finger under the top of Faith's jeans and feels how much Faith wants this. They are out and about and they do never do this. Buffy shifts in her seat and knows it's more than the warmth of the booze. She wants this, too. She wants to fuck. She drinks more and says it, right in Faith's ear, her hair brushing Buffy's lips. "I want to fuck you," she says.

Faith smiles and says, "You want to get drunk, get fucked, B. You must be fucked up." She pulls Buffy up from her stool and they sit down next to Wesley. Buffy's head feels nicely fizzy. She remembers after the Council broke Faith out of jail since they'd seen through the Buffybot ruse and knew Buffy was dead. Then Angel and Wesley helped Faith not get killed by those uptight psychos and then more stuff happened and then Faith took Buffy drinking. And then, she thinks. They are all sitting here, waiting for what is totally going to happen.

"Let's motor," Faith says. "You drive." By the time Wesley has his key in the ignition, Faith has Buffy in the backseat, hands everywhere. Buffy closes her eyes so she isn't dizzy. But she's spinning anyway. She knows Faith by heart by now. She grinds down on Faith's thigh and feels it everywhere, spreading up to her exploding brain. Her toes are curling in her boots and she wants to be naked.

She opens her eyes and stares at Wesley in the mirror until he looks back at her. She wants him naked, too, against her. She wants to fuck everyone. Faith grips Buffy's ass. It might even bruise.

Then the car has stopped and Wesley is briefly gone, then back. Like a blink, for all Buffy notices. They have a room, she gets that.

Wesley kisses her like the first blow in a battle. He pulls her out of the car and she knows Faith follows because she's pressed against Buffy's ass in a second. She peels off to kick the door in and when they get inside, Buffy moves the desk in front of the door. No escape, she thinks. Faith looks at her again with the full force of her Faith-ness and she doesn't want to leave.

When she's with Faith, just Faith, it's a race to get naked. A sprint to stop being Buffy. This is a dance and a show. And watching Wesley who looks considerably better with his clothes off. Maybe it's the predatory smile.

Then it's her and Faith. Doing what they always do with an audience for once. Buffy loves these moments of making Faith crumble with her mouth and her fingers. She loves the power. And Faith must love the Wesley aspect because she crumbles even sooner, arches her back faster and moans even louder as Buffy licks slow circles around Faith's clit.

Then Wesley is there, behind her. It feels like it takes forever for him to get to the main event, to join in, but she hears him fumbling with the condom. And then he's pushing inside her, thick and urgent. She's holding on with less than nothing but she manages to keep her mouth on Faith. And they are all of them fucking. She's completely happy or at least so overwhelmed with feeling from everywhere in her body she can't think.

She doesn't notice their endings, she's too busy floating through her own. She's a selfish threesome girl, apparently. But she knows they're done. When her legs start working, she stands up and gets dressed. She really has to shower before she runs into Spike or worse, Dawn. It's enough of a thought she stops smiling. She moves the desk and walks to her car.


"Always nice to see Sunnydale," Faith says.

Faith somehow left the motel room after Buffy and still managed to get in the backseat of Buffy's car before Buffy walked back to where she'd parked. It wasn't worth objecting.

Buffy says, "You're not staying with me. No room at the inn, not for you."

"Is that Dawn's beef or yours?"

"Dawn," Buffy says. She means it, too. She has no idea if Faith hears that in her voice, but maybe she does. She says, "Dawn's had a rough year, you know."

Faith shrugs and lights a cigarette. "Maybe I'll stay with Spike. We got along okay last time."

Buffy doesn't know if that means they had sex or that neither minded the other smoking inside. She really hopes it wasn't sex. She really doesn't want examine that feeling.

"Maybe," Faith says. "Maybe we can have a little night with Spike like we just did with Wesley." She briefly squeezes Buffy's thigh. "What do you think about that?"


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