“Hey guys! Man, where ya been? You gotta find Buffy. She’s going to her place and stocking up on…” Wham! He never got to finish the sentence before Angelus’ fist connected with his jaw. Out for the count, he slumped to the sidewalk as they kept walking, looks of steely determination on their faces.
“Guy just bugs me.” Growled the vampire. She didn’t say anything for a few steps, but then unable to let it go she stopped.
“Yeah, but…”
He turned to her, “What?”
“Maybe he could be useful. Why don’t we take him back to the mansion and see if we can find out what B’s got planned?” Angelus looked at her, the sneer on his face making it clear he didn’t think much of anything they could get out of Xander.
“I thought we were on a tight schedule here Faith?”
“Yeah, well the boss can look after himself for a few hours. C’mon, it could be fun.” She looked up at him with her eyes wide and a seriously sexy pout on her lips. If there was one thing she was good at, it was wrapping men around her little finger. He rolled his eyes a little, nearly there but she still didn’t have him quite convinced. “You don’t have to watch, you could go get someone to eat, maybe raise a little hell? B doesn’t know about the new you, she won’t suspect a thing.” Something incomprehensible flashed across his eyes as he considered the possibility. She held her breath, waiting for his response. Finally he nodded slowly, “yeah, that could work. How long would you need?”
She grinned up at him, “How long can you give me?”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Now

The darkness had claimed her, and she’d welcomed it – it was where she belonged after all. No matter what anyone said, she was evil, she had to be to have done the things she had. The pain and death that she had brought about were unforgivable. All of her life she’d been told there was no good in her; she could see now what they meant. She had always acted on impulse, no patience to wait for results so she got the hell out of Dodge before trouble caught up with her. When she’d been told she was destined to be the next Slayer her Watcher had tried to instil some kind of responsibility in her - some kind of social conscience. It had been starting to stick, Faith had to admit that, and then she’d been Called and things had gone to hell in a hand-basket. Finding her way to Sunnydale, to a new life, she’d tried to start again. She really had. But then she’d made a mistake. Just a simple little thing, not really earth shattering in her line of business, but a man had died.

She’d panicked a little at first, it was happening again she was losing control, but then something had changed in her. Returning to the place where she’d made her mistake, she’d looked at the body, seen the blood, the empty expression on his face and she’d felt good. Powerful. There was no point running from anything this time, in the end all she’d ever been running from was herself. She’d accepted who she was and turned to face the darkness.

A groan from the corner of the room cut through her reverie. Xander was waking up again - good. Time to start anew.

She walked slowly across the stone floor towards him; knowing that he was watching her, she put on quite a show. Tight leather pants barely hugging her hips, cut-off vest top with a cleavage so low she’d likely be arrested if she went outside, and boots just on the right side of kinky. Taking long, slow strides, she knew she was an eyeful and she used that to her advantage. Letting an evil smile cross her face, she leaned down and placed her hand in his hair, lifting his face nearer her own. What seemed like hours ago she had stripped him, chained him to the wall and left him to hang there; after of course making sure that the chains were just a shade too short to let him lie down. And then she had had fun in her own inimitable way.

When he had eventually lost consciousness he had slumped forward onto his knees leaving his arms stretched out behind him. And there he had stayed while she amused herself by sharpening the various knives and needles she had found lying around the place. She’d say one thing for Angelus, he didn’t stint on the torture devices.

Waking in the same position as he’d passed out in must be excruciating for him, the cramps in his arms would be pretty much unbearable by themselves. A tiny shiver of guilt passed through her, he’d been nothing but nice to her, and she treated him like this. She shrugged the feeling off; he’d asked for it, all men did in the end. And anyway, thanks to her, a little cramp wasn’t the only pain he had to worry about.

She looked into those dark eyes and smiled again at the glimmer of pain she could see in there. Not just pain though there was something akin to desire there as well. He tried to say something through the cloth in his mouth but she held her finger to her lips. The gag she’d put on him was more for her benefit than anyone else’s. The mansion was far enough away from it’s nearest neighbours that any screams would go ignored, added to that was the fact that most of the residents of Crawford Street had heard and seen a lot worse the year before when the terrible trio of Angelus, Spike and Drusilla had moved in. No, she had just been getting tired of hearing the pleading tone of voice when he’d asked her to stop.

“Not now sweetie. Time for questions later.” She took her hand away and rose to her feet, causing him to crane his neck to look up at her. “What can we do now?” She stood over him, hands on her hips, drumming her fingers provocatively. “You know, they say there are five main types of torture. Blunt, sharp, cold, hot and loud. How ‘bout we try to come up with another?” His eyes widened and she laughed as she swung away from him. Heading over to the coffee table she picked up the bottle of beer she’d left sitting there. The condensation had dripped down the side of the bottle and formed a ring on the otherwise immaculate surface of the table. Oh well, she’d apologise to DeadBoy when he got back from his hunt.

Taking a swig of the beer she noticed he was following it with his eyes. She let a little of the liquid spill onto her lips as she took the bottle away. Slowly, ever so slowly, her tongue protruded slightly from between her lips and made a languid circuit, collecting the droplets. She had to choke down a laugh as she heard him actually whimper.

“Thirsty sweetie? Want some?” She held out the bottle towards him. He nodded quickly and tried to reach for it but she pulled it back out of his grasp just as quickly. Taking a slow pull from the bottle, she again let some slide out of her mouth, moistening her lips. From the corner of her eye she could see him follow it’s progress. This was too much fun!

Draining the bottle she threw it behind her, listening to the tinkle of broken glass gleefully – she could put that to good use later. “Ooops. All done.” She said dryly. There was more than disappointment in his eyes; it was more like agony. Without warning, she leapt at him, dragging him to his feet and slamming him into the wall, pinning him there. In one swift movement she’d pulled his gag away and covered his lips with her own. Kissing him hungrily she could see the shock in his eyes. Just as quickly, however, she pulled away from him, laughing cruelly.

A glittering from the table caught her eye; she’d left the knives she’d whiled away the time sharpening sitting there in full view. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she walked deliberately towards the makeshift arsenal. Selecting one at random, she turned towards him and slowly ran her finger gently up the length of the six-inch long blade.
“Faith,” he rasped, his voice suffering from all the yelling and screaming he’d done earlier. She looked up, putting a false expression of surprise on her face. “Please…” he tried to go on, but his voice failed him.
“Please? Please what?” She teased. Closing in on him again, she held the knife loosely at her side. As she drew closer his hand snaked out with surprising speed and grabbed the blade, shocked for an instant she let go. Knowing in her heart of hearts that it was going to be the last mistake she was likely to make didn’t exactly make her feel any better. He grabbed her wrist with his free hand before she could get away and spun her roughly around so that she was facing away from him. He held her close, not giving her the opportunity to get away. She struggled briefly but stopped as she felt the press of cold steel against the flesh at her waist.