-Part One-

AUTHORS: dru & EvilWillow (Go worship the goddess that is EW!)

SERIES: Switched

PAIRING : Faith/Lindsey

RATING : NC17 (highly smutty)

DISCLAIMER : We do not own these characters. We just like putting them in lewd positions!

NOTE : dru wrote Faith, EvilWillow wrote Lindsey

AUTHOR'S NOTE : This one is a little weird. There are definite slashy Angel/Lindsey overtones and a surprise ending!

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I'd rather be shopping.

I'd rather be having my tonsils taken out.

I'd *much* rather be home alone doing anything but *this*.

And I *sure* as hell would rather be anywhere but *here*.

But here I am.

I can't help but feel this inevitable doom... but then it could be this really tight corset- perhaps the blood is not getting to my brain, because I'm *clearly* not thinking clearly... or at all.

Because really, what on Earth would possess me to come *here* of all places?

And to think *he* would help me?

But here I am.

"I need your help."

"Yeah?" I look up at her as she walks in. "What can I do for you?"

You can get me out of this damn thing.

Luckily, for my sake as much as his, I don't say that.

"There's this- thing- that- I... thought... heard..." Fuck it.

I'm suffocating in this thing!

I walk over to him. "Grab my chest."

"WHAT?!" I say, spewing coffee all over her. Oops. But that was an interesting come-on line. Not that she isn't beautiful, but still. That was ...

unique.

"Have you just never done it before?" I ask.

I mean, I know I'm not the *best* thing since sliced bread, but I always thought I was second or third...

Okay... Usually I'm smoother than this, around the ladies. But it's been a while and really. All I can think is: "What?"

But then my brain supplies. "And yeah, of course I have... but ... what?"

Again, not that she isn't beautiful, but I tend to prefer to understand what's going on before things get more ... intimate. And you never know, I could've just misunderstood what her intentions were.

And that would be embarrassing.

More embarrassing than spitting on her, probably.

"You said you needed help?" I ask.

I hate when guys are stupid. Unless they're gay, they've got no excuse to not "Grab. My. Chest."

I can barely breath, I'm basically stuck in this unless I can through to him... so...

"What's not clear about that?"

"Maybe the fact that I'm not sure *why* I would do that?" I reply. "I mean, for all I know Angel's just waiting for a chance to jump out and beat me up. He kinda likes to do that, lately. So I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling big on giving him that opportunity."

"This has nothing to do with Angel. Jesus! Are all lawyers such prudes?"

AND GOD DAMMIT! I HAVE TO GET OUT OF THIS FUCKIN' THING!

"What thing?" I ask, confused. "And why don't you do it yourself?" I add. "You always struck me as a pretty independent girl."

And I don't know *why* I'm questioning this... probably because she's way too fucking sexy to be serious. And well... forget Angel. She's very capable of beating the hell outta me later, if she gets pissed about the way I touch her. So I guess I have found my self-preservation instinct.

Took me long enough, I know.

"Are you gay?" I ask. I mean, it's a perfectly valid question, I think.

I mean- I'm clearly not wearing underwear because this damn skirt is short enough. And I'd rather *not* go back out on the street with some random fuck... one must be careful when dealing with this sort of thing.

And this is the point in which I decide to stop drinking coffee around Faith. I'm sure she'd appreciate it, and fuck, I used to be so much more... self-confident.

Fuck Angel. And no, that was not a Freudian slip.

Her question was just meant as an insult to prod me into touching her, I'm sure. There's no way she'd know I've had a thought or two about men. A man... one who shall remain nameless. And it doesn't matter anyway, because I'm over that mentally deranged few... months.

And besides, that doesn't make me gay, it makes me bisexual. And it's not like that's a horrible thing to be, when you live in L.A. Now, if I were back in redneck town Oklahoma, population 1000, I'd worry much more about those kind of innuendos.

But now she's starting to think more about the question, since I haven't answered it. I can see that in her eyes. I stand and walk closer to her. "Like this?" I ask, as I cup her breast with one hand. Not that it's a difficult task, since I had an instant erection the moment she walked in.

I'm sure she's used to that, though.

"Harder," I moan.

I mean, it does feel good-- I guess that's contrary to the whole point of ... *this*... but that's one thing no one counts on. My appeal and my brains.

I lean forward, into his hand. My chest is spilling out of this thing and I can barely breath... I just hope this works, because I swear- if it doesn't, I am so fucked.

And *not* in the 'I get a happy' way.

And then, I let it slip from my lips because I really do need to be somewhat... agreeable and tolerable and happy to be here... "Please..."

That I can do. Right? Yeah, sure. Why not.

And why the fuck am I so indifferent about this? Faith is incredibly sexy and the first time I saw her I had thoughts about her. But now... even though it's not like I'm not turned on by her. I mean, I'm a *guy*. Can't help that reaction.

My mind's not into it though. Not like it has to be... Again, I'm a guy. So I squeeze her breast a little harder.

"Oh COME ON, LINDSEY!" I yell. "You can do better than that! You got your damn hand back... so use it! Come on- fuck me with it!"

I can't help it. I've gotta get out of this damn thing! And in order for that to happen...

I need *this* to happen.

He *has* to want me and I *swear* this is the last time I make any *bets* with any*body*.

"What the hell are you thinking about anyway?"

Fuck. She just sounded an awful lot like Darla just then, with her demanding tone. Oh now *that's* gonna get me into this. Damn it.

"What the hell are you thinking about, anyway?" she asks.

"Nothing," I shrug. Certainly not about the fact that her skin is too warm, and she's too short and ...

That's it. I have *got* to get out of L.A. Fuck Wolfram and Hart, fuck Darla... don't even know where she is anyway. Bitch. Fuck Angel and NOT in that way, no thank you brain don't even go there.

"Nothing," I say again. "You wanna fuck, Faith? If that's what you want, then I'm done looking a gift-horse in the mouth. Especially such a sexy one," I add with a smile.

I slip my hand down underneath her skirt, not phased in the least to discover that she isn't wearing underwear. She just seems like that type. Kinda like --

I've been alone with nothing but my thoughts way too damn long if I can't keep my mind on Faith at this point.

Damn, I thought it would take longer... but FINALLY! It's gonna be over.

I look down at his hand between my thighs and it feels... weird... but good. *Very* good.

"Lindsey..." I moan and arch into his hand. Never thought I'd be moaning *that* name....and sounding so... needy.

And I really need to be out of this thing. SOON.

"I want you inside me, Lindsey," I whisper. Unfortunately, I can't touch him. Although I *really* want to- I guess I *have* wanted to- since I first saw him.

I mean, I can be honest- he's really attractive (gorgeous) and he's got that whole... not innocent thing going...

"I *need* you inside me..." I whimper. Gods, do I *ever*.

If I have any *hope* of being normal again...

I need him.

Does she really mean ... I am not going to ask that. I can feel how wet she is, when I slip two fingers inside her. She moans and her knees nearly buckle. I grab her around the waist with my other arm.

I pull my hand away and say, "Sit on the desk." If she wants to fuck, we'll fuck. It'll make me stop THINKING for a few minutes, I hope. At least it always did with Darla... until she screamed his name, but on the plus side I doubt Faith will be doing that.

Damn- this is just strange... not that I would have thought it would be anything else... but at least I'm getting what I wanted. (Secretly of course... wanted secretly...)

I hop up on the desk and spread my legs open. I can feel myself dripping, which is again, another strange feeling... but I'll go with it.

I don't know why this, right here, would get me so hot... but I guess that was kind of the damn point, again, wasn't it?

"Do you want to fuck me, Lindsey?" I ask, grabbing my chest. "Wanna feel me around you? Feel me fucking you? Thrusting inside yo-me? Do you want it?"

I know- he doesn't know... but I want to hear it.

Something about that wasn't quite right... but I don't care. A lot about things in my life haven't been right, not since Angel. But I'm seriously losing it if I'm able to think about him right now.

He's has seriously fucking ruined my life.

"Yeah," I say. "I wanna fuck you." Boy, now *that* didn't sound bored, not at all.

And this is where I do what I did with Darla. Our rule... I can't remember which one of us came up with it. Probably me, because she couldn't not moan *his* name... No talking. Just fucking. That way I didn't have to think about him. Just fuck and forget.

So I'm not going to talk. Because if she figures out I'm not as into this as she is, then she'll leave. And then I'm going to get acquainted with my hand. And that's just getting REALLY old.

"Talk to me, Lindsey..." I really can't *not* take advantage of this situation, since I'm basically a sitting duck, waiting for him to take his sweet ass time to fuck me already so I can be out of this thing!

"Tell me what you think at night, when you jerk off alone. Do you get hot thinking about someone?" I ask, trying to sound seductive and not like a dirty old man outside a porn shop.

"When you've got your cock in your hand, who do you pretend is sucking you off?"

And okay- GUSH of fluids right onto the desk... *that* was interesting.

I'm really fuckin' horny.

I just shake my head. I will not tell Faith who I think about when I'm alone... or when I was with Darla for that matter. "Doesn't matter," I say. "Not someone who'd ever give me a second thought, that's for sure. And besides, why would I want to talk about hi-- anyone else, when I'm with you?" I ask.

"Wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me, would it? And my momma always told me to be a gentleman around the ladies," I finish. Not many people have heard the Lindsey drawl... but that used to be one of my secret weapons with the ladies. Might as well start using it again.

I walk closer and run my hand up her thigh, pushing her skirt up further so I can see her. Shit, she's so wet already. Because of me? That's surprising.

I undo my pants with my other hand and push them off my hips. I slide my boxers down as well and stroke myself a few times. She looks at my cock, licking her lips. Fuck. "You like what you see?" I ask.

"Who wouldn't?" I shrug. Okay, gonna fuck with his mind, just a little. "Betcha, Angel himself would get down on his knees."

Mental image. Not that I haven't had the same one myself, but... Ohgod. I grab the base of my cock before I come just from that. Shit.

And so much for any thought of pretending that didn't fucking make me hornier. Because I think my reaction was quite clear. Now she knows. And when she sees Angel again, he'll know too, I'm sure. It'll be a whole fun 'let's mock Lindsey' thing between the two of them.

And suddenly I'm not that interested in adding to the things she'll have to tell him about my sick obsession with him. I pull my boxers and pants back up and buckle the belt. "He wouldn't," I shrug. "We both know that."

I run a hand through my hair and add, "Look... I'm sorry. It's not like I'm not attracted to you. But this is a ... bad time for me. And this isn't ... strangely enough I must be developing a conscience. I won't fuck you when my mind's on someone else. I think... just leave, please." And then I turn and walk over to the bar to get myself a drink.

This part's familiar, the part where I start to get drunk, then go home and finish getting drunk. And usually there are a few (hundred) thoughts of Angel, too.

Okay... what the fuck?

"Listen-" I say. "You really have no choice in fucking me. So why don't you come over here before you go limpy and just stick it in me?"

Not that I ever thought I'd beg someone for that- BUT GOD DAMN, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!

"You were damn close to coming a few seconds before anyway- that's all I need. Just do it inside me."

If she thinks that's good sex talk, she's been in prison too long.

I look over at her and say, "If that's all you want, I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding someone to help you out. I meant it, Faith. Leave. Or hell, whatever. I will."

I'm through being used by people. Holland Manners because I was eager to get to the top. Darla, because I was desperate to have her - or so I thought at first. Angel, because I was a fun, convenient human to beat up. I guess it's not as guilt-inducing as when the person you're beating is sick enough to not mind because at least he's getting your attention.

But I'm done with that trend. I grab my suit coat and head for the door.

"Jesus Christ, Lindsey!"

I beat him to the door, careful to not impede his leaving, because, hey, I *definitely* don't wanna get blown up. And I believe she meant it.

"Do you think I like being here like this? That I *have* to be here like this?" I look down and- I mean... ulgh!

I just wanna be *me* again. The *real* me.

"That I have to beg like this? It just- it has to be you, Lindsey. I want you. I don't care who you think about or whose name you call when you come, just *please* be inside me."

And that's it. I won't beg again. If he won't *now*, then he won't in twenty-four hours and then it won't matter anyway.

I'm sure she thinks she means that. And damn, right words... wrong person. But ... I just don't want to use her. But I suppose... if we're using each other, it's not as awful. Is it?

Five years ago I wouldn't be having these issues. I'd just fuck her because it felt good. Damn that vampire and his insistence on thinking once that I was someone he could save.

I ended up agreeing with him.

Too late.

But if we do this... I need all the cards to be on the table. Because I just don't think she'd be as cool with it if she knew. But I don't know that for sure. So maybe... "Even if it's Angel I wish I were fucking?"

I've never said that out loud. It's actually a relief, for a split second before I realize who I said it out loud to. Oh well. I was planning on leaving L.A. anyway.

Holy. Shit.

That's- I mean... I was kidding.

But... I never...

Oh my god.

"Do you think about him often?" I ask. I can't really help it.

I search her eyes, wondering if this is just all part of the fun to be had later. She doesn't seem like she's gloating or mocking me though. And from what I know about her, she might understand the obsession. Seems like I recall she tried to turn him into Angelus by getting him to fuck her.

So maybe she had a thing for him once, too?

What am I saying. I bet *everyone* who's come in contact with Angel has wanted him at some point in their lives.

So yeah I think she'd get it.

I sigh. "I think I realized it was beyond your run of the mill attraction when Darla and I both started screaming his name when we were fucking..." That's when the no talking rule was brought up.

HOLY FUCKING HELL!

Him? With Darla?

And... with the yelling?

Oh my god.

Okay, first things first, because DAMN.

"Lindsey-" I step away from the door, because now I really do *not* want to explode. Well... not in the actually exploding way.

"Lindsey, right now more than ever- you *need* to fuck me. Please- I'm begging."

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