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katleeptWorking Title: Boil
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Faith/Dawn
Rating: R/M
Challenge: This is for a![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tv_universe challenge. If you join, be sure to tell them Kat Lee of Team Bunny Ears sent you!
Warning(s): Femme Slash
Word Count: 1,153
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, not the author, and are used without permission.
Dawn throws her stake down with frustration. "I'm sorry, Faith. I just can't concentrate."
"I kinda figured that the third time I put you on your back soon as we started, kiddo. What's the buzz?"
Dawn shakes her head. She strides over, flops down onto the back steps of the Summers' household, and drops her head in her hands for a moment.
"What's wrong, kid?" Faith picks up her stake and follows. She wouldn't take the time with any one else, but she likes Dawn for the spunk she usually has, all of which is missing this afternoon.
"I'm just so angry!" the teenager finally explodes, looking up through teary eyes.
"About what?" Faith asks and then stops herself. Shaking her head, she turns instead, "You know what? I don't even care. That's what it is, isn't it, Dawnie? The world doesn't care about you. It doesn't care if it kills your sister, your mother, or all your friends. It doesn't care if you exist or die. It doesn't care that you used to be some Supernatural key, and now you're a real girl with real emotions. It doesn't care about anything. It doesn't care how fucked up you get."
Dawn jumps back to her feet. Grinning, Faith keeps talking. "Just like your poppa, huh? He didn't come to your momma's funeral. He barely showed for Buffy's, and when he did, you knew he didn't care. He's never cared not about you or your sister or your mother. And why should he? At least, about you? After all, you're not supposed to be real, right? You're not really his daughter. All those memories you have swirling around in your head every time he talks to you -- not that that's often -- are all fake, and you know it. You don't have a real momma or a real poppa, and you're not really Buffy's sister."
"SHUT UP!"
"Make me," Faith tosses her stake at her. "That's more of the problem, ain't it, little girl? You can't make anybody do what you want them to do. You can't even make yourself stop feeling this way. You couldn't when Buffy wasn't alive; you can't now that she's alive and ignoring you because she's got other kids to save, other lives that're more important to her than you."
"No, they're not! They're not more important! She doesn't love them more than she loves me! They're just Slayers! They're not her sister!"
"That's the dig, ain't it?" Faith grins and shakes her head as she continues taunting her protege and leading her away from the porch by backing up and having Dawn follow. She notes the grip the younger girl has on her weapon. Her knuckles are pale white now, and Faith's willing to bet that the wood is piercing her skin, not that Dawn cares or, probably, is even noticing right now.
"You're not really her sister, so you're not really important to her. You don't really exist, so it's no wonder the world doesn't care about you. Your momma didn't even care when she left you behind, because you're not her real daughter. Buffy doesn't care if you live or die, because you're not really her sister. That's why she's spending so much more time with all these Slayer wannabes."
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Dawn strikes at her through the air again and again, but Faith deftly avoids her blows.
"You can't blame any of them, because you're not real. But you do blame yourself for thinking you're real, for feeling like you're real, for feeling things that no Supernatural key should. You never had feelings like these before, but then you don't have any memories from before when you were just that energy swirling around wherever. You only have the memories they gave you: the fake memories of being with the parents that aren't really your parents and with your sister who's not really your sister and your friends who aren't really your friends."
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Faith knocks the stake from Dawn's hand, but then Dawn hits her. Her arms shoot pass Faith's guard. Her hands slam into her shoulders with such unexpected speed and strength that Faith is knocked off of her boots. She lands hard on on her butt on the ground.
Dawn pauses for only a moment, looking at her friend on the ground, but then anger fuels her again as Faith starts to laugh. She slaps her, drawing blood, but Faith catches her hand when she goes to slap her again. She grabs her other hand, too, and pulls her down on top of her. "That's my girl," Faith compliments, raising her hips so that Dawn's legs now cradle her.
"Fa-Faith -- " Dawn starts. She's definitely feeling things now, hard, hot, and raw, that she never did before.
Faith grins at her. She brings her right hand to her mouth, wipes her blood with her index finger, and then sucks her own blood off of her finger. She feels Dawn shivering, but it's a good kind of shiver. Her teeth graze her skin. She bites lightly and sucks harder before finally releasing her finger. Dawn's face is now flushed, and Faith is loving every minute of it.
"Today's lesson: Anger's good. You can use it. Direct it. Make pretend whoever you're fighting is the one making you angry, and if you're angry enough, you'll whup their ass every time. But . . . "
She reaches up and catches Dawn's long, brown hair that's blowing in the Californian breeze. "Lesson number two for the day, kiddo: Don't keep second guessing yourself. Whatever those monks did or didn't do, what's important is that you are real." She lifts her hips a little higher and, through their tight jeans, rubs her core against Dawn's nubile flesh. "This is real. Your big sis cares a Helluva lot about you."
Her fingers are full of Dawn's hair; she jerks on it to yank her down to her. Dawn goes willingly. "Is she the only one?"
"What do you think?" Faith asks a heartbeat before she slams her lips onto hers. Her tongue thrusts wildly up into Dawn's mouth, sliding against her teeth, poking towards her throat, and wrapping around her own tongue. She rubs against her again, this time harder and faster than before. But night is beginning to set, and Faith knows she has a job to do. Reluctantly, she releases her.
Grinning, Dawn leans forward over Faith's body and licks a drop of her blood from the lip her ring cut. Her tongue runs over the cut, lapping up her blood, and then over Faith's lips. Her legs,still positioned on either side of Faith's middle, squeezes her.
"That's my girl," Faith remarks proudly, then catches Dawn's tongue with her teeth and pulls her inside. The night be damned. This night was going to be about remembering how to live.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Faith/Dawn
Rating: R/M
Challenge: This is for a
tv_universe challenge. If you join, be sure to tell them Kat Lee of Team Bunny Ears sent you!Warning(s): Femme Slash
Word Count: 1,153
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, not the author, and are used without permission.
Dawn throws her stake down with frustration. "I'm sorry, Faith. I just can't concentrate."
"I kinda figured that the third time I put you on your back soon as we started, kiddo. What's the buzz?"
Dawn shakes her head. She strides over, flops down onto the back steps of the Summers' household, and drops her head in her hands for a moment.
"What's wrong, kid?" Faith picks up her stake and follows. She wouldn't take the time with any one else, but she likes Dawn for the spunk she usually has, all of which is missing this afternoon.
"I'm just so angry!" the teenager finally explodes, looking up through teary eyes.
"About what?" Faith asks and then stops herself. Shaking her head, she turns instead, "You know what? I don't even care. That's what it is, isn't it, Dawnie? The world doesn't care about you. It doesn't care if it kills your sister, your mother, or all your friends. It doesn't care if you exist or die. It doesn't care that you used to be some Supernatural key, and now you're a real girl with real emotions. It doesn't care about anything. It doesn't care how fucked up you get."
Dawn jumps back to her feet. Grinning, Faith keeps talking. "Just like your poppa, huh? He didn't come to your momma's funeral. He barely showed for Buffy's, and when he did, you knew he didn't care. He's never cared not about you or your sister or your mother. And why should he? At least, about you? After all, you're not supposed to be real, right? You're not really his daughter. All those memories you have swirling around in your head every time he talks to you -- not that that's often -- are all fake, and you know it. You don't have a real momma or a real poppa, and you're not really Buffy's sister."
"SHUT UP!"
"Make me," Faith tosses her stake at her. "That's more of the problem, ain't it, little girl? You can't make anybody do what you want them to do. You can't even make yourself stop feeling this way. You couldn't when Buffy wasn't alive; you can't now that she's alive and ignoring you because she's got other kids to save, other lives that're more important to her than you."
"No, they're not! They're not more important! She doesn't love them more than she loves me! They're just Slayers! They're not her sister!"
"That's the dig, ain't it?" Faith grins and shakes her head as she continues taunting her protege and leading her away from the porch by backing up and having Dawn follow. She notes the grip the younger girl has on her weapon. Her knuckles are pale white now, and Faith's willing to bet that the wood is piercing her skin, not that Dawn cares or, probably, is even noticing right now.
"You're not really her sister, so you're not really important to her. You don't really exist, so it's no wonder the world doesn't care about you. Your momma didn't even care when she left you behind, because you're not her real daughter. Buffy doesn't care if you live or die, because you're not really her sister. That's why she's spending so much more time with all these Slayer wannabes."
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Dawn strikes at her through the air again and again, but Faith deftly avoids her blows.
"You can't blame any of them, because you're not real. But you do blame yourself for thinking you're real, for feeling like you're real, for feeling things that no Supernatural key should. You never had feelings like these before, but then you don't have any memories from before when you were just that energy swirling around wherever. You only have the memories they gave you: the fake memories of being with the parents that aren't really your parents and with your sister who's not really your sister and your friends who aren't really your friends."
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Faith knocks the stake from Dawn's hand, but then Dawn hits her. Her arms shoot pass Faith's guard. Her hands slam into her shoulders with such unexpected speed and strength that Faith is knocked off of her boots. She lands hard on on her butt on the ground.
Dawn pauses for only a moment, looking at her friend on the ground, but then anger fuels her again as Faith starts to laugh. She slaps her, drawing blood, but Faith catches her hand when she goes to slap her again. She grabs her other hand, too, and pulls her down on top of her. "That's my girl," Faith compliments, raising her hips so that Dawn's legs now cradle her.
"Fa-Faith -- " Dawn starts. She's definitely feeling things now, hard, hot, and raw, that she never did before.
Faith grins at her. She brings her right hand to her mouth, wipes her blood with her index finger, and then sucks her own blood off of her finger. She feels Dawn shivering, but it's a good kind of shiver. Her teeth graze her skin. She bites lightly and sucks harder before finally releasing her finger. Dawn's face is now flushed, and Faith is loving every minute of it.
"Today's lesson: Anger's good. You can use it. Direct it. Make pretend whoever you're fighting is the one making you angry, and if you're angry enough, you'll whup their ass every time. But . . . "
She reaches up and catches Dawn's long, brown hair that's blowing in the Californian breeze. "Lesson number two for the day, kiddo: Don't keep second guessing yourself. Whatever those monks did or didn't do, what's important is that you are real." She lifts her hips a little higher and, through their tight jeans, rubs her core against Dawn's nubile flesh. "This is real. Your big sis cares a Helluva lot about you."
Her fingers are full of Dawn's hair; she jerks on it to yank her down to her. Dawn goes willingly. "Is she the only one?"
"What do you think?" Faith asks a heartbeat before she slams her lips onto hers. Her tongue thrusts wildly up into Dawn's mouth, sliding against her teeth, poking towards her throat, and wrapping around her own tongue. She rubs against her again, this time harder and faster than before. But night is beginning to set, and Faith knows she has a job to do. Reluctantly, she releases her.
Grinning, Dawn leans forward over Faith's body and licks a drop of her blood from the lip her ring cut. Her tongue runs over the cut, lapping up her blood, and then over Faith's lips. Her legs,still positioned on either side of Faith's middle, squeezes her.
"That's my girl," Faith remarks proudly, then catches Dawn's tongue with her teeth and pulls her inside. The night be damned. This night was going to be about remembering how to live.
The End
