Guilty Sin

by

sHaYcH

Disclaimer: BtVS is Joss' baby, not mine.

Note:  Title comes from the song, "Guilty Sin" by Patrice Pike.

Comments are always welcome: shaych3@yahoo.com

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Cream white skin bathed in moonlight reflected the shadows of Faith’s hand as she stroked Buffy’s bare back.  Just below the fourth rib, a swirl of bruises marred the milky complexion.  Beyond that, a shallow gash covered enough territory to make the dark haired slayer wince in sympathy. 
 

“Sorry about that, B, but you really shoulda ducked.”  And I shoulda never had that last beer before staff practice.  Shit.

 

Buffy snorted softly and said, “You always did swear you’d get me back for gutting you.”
 

Shame colored Faith’s face, but she managed to keep her emotions from her voice.  “Yeah, well, consider yourself got.  You want me to grab Giles?  This might need stitches.”
 

Buffy turned her head a fraction, giving Faith a narrow eyed glare.  “That man knows far too much about my anatomy as it is.  Can’t you do something?”
 

Of all the hundreds of times she had put needle and thread to her flesh, Faith cannot remember a single time when she felt so terrified of fucking up.  Licking her lips, she said, “Uh, I really think you should get G-Man to do it.”
 

In the six months since Sunnydale had inverted, Faith had carefully carved a spot for herself in Buffy’s team, but even now, she was reluctant to press her luck where the blonde slayer was concerned.  Once upon a time, there had been something fragile and wonderful growing between them, but they had been too long caught in a drought for her to expect to find the green again.
 

Buffy pressed up, twisting to fully look at the other slayer.  Comfortable in her skin in a way that she had never been before, the blonde slayer was pleased with the way Faith’s eyes seemed to track everywhere around the room but on Buffy’s very naked torso. 
 

“Y’know Faith, the whole ‘hiding in shadows’ thing you’ve got going?  It can totally stop now.  On the scale of even-stevens, we’ve been dancing around square for a while.  So, how about them stitches?  I’d rather not bleed all over my favorite blanket anymore.”
 

As Buffy flopped back onto the bed, Faith could have sworn that she smelled rain.

fin


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