So... continuing my mission on buffyverse1000, two new drabbles.
She hates it with vengeance. The ever-smiling, ever-mocking face that she hates to see in the mirror, that she would love to see in the coffin. Not good enough, not human enough, not Slayer enough, always incomplete.
She loves it, of course. It knows her completely, in a clean and logical way, knows where to touch her, where to lick her, how to kiss her, where to hit.
It started with hitting, of course. Clearly logical, whom better to train with than yourself... same strenght, no weaknesses, because the bot is a pink perfection package. She hit and she hit, all of her hatred pouring out... catharsis through the bloody knuckles, or your money back.
She knows she's still human when she looks into her own face that isn't.
It continued with sex. Outlet for all her drives, the ultimate release, her own personal fucktoy. What's so wrong with fucking yourself? People do it all the time and Woody Allen produces fun quotes about it, so it's all okay, she's just like everyone else on the world, she has her orgasms to proove it.
She's glad Giles suggested this, few more weeks and she could have ended up fucking someone she hated more than herself... though that list wasn't very long.
And now she's almost back, feeling almost alive, she's almost normal, Little Miss 'Slay them all'. She slays, she trains, she fucks herself, and Giles Watches, steady hand movement marking his approval.
One thing to say about Faith?
She can use the oportunities.... Usually use them hard, ride them into gallop and then happily over the brink...
So, when she sees one, she seizes it.
Take Giles, for example. Well, want, at first. There was something hidden under this tweed armor of his, something she wanted to get into, she wanted to scratch, lick, and purr like a kitten, sharpening her claws on him.
But he was too proper, too stuffy to give in, no matter how she tried, flaunting, taunting, teasing... The layers were too strong for her.
So when she sees him without them, jeans tight on that ass she'd want to take and have, cigarette in his mouth, she doesn't have to think twice.
And when she sees the woman he kisses on the police car, his hand already in her panties, she grins widely and cheerfully.
"G, Joyce," she smiled. "Can I join?"
Flash in the green eyes, pop of a bubble gum, fingers deliciously scratching her itch, handcuffs on her wrists, feather boa tickling her tighs...
She has more than she wanted, and takes everything she can.
Yeah, yeah, I know I've said I wont ever write Giles/Joyce, but what? I said I won't write slash. I said I won't write bestiality (still not sure if Otto counts... *g*)... promises are there to break them....
Oh, and you people who have me on the flist? Come over and see my pretty new blueish layout! (I didn't know how to put an image on the to of the site, so it is where it is...)