I was seventeen when I met her. We became lovers four years later. I'm 27 now. If I remember all that math I slept through before I dropped out of high school, that would make us six years now. Six years is a long time, I realize that now, but while I was living it it seemed like nothing at all. Well, certainly not nothing. Every second with Buffy is special. Every day is magic.
It took a long time for me to settle down. For a while after I started working with Angel, I had my regrets. Maybe I should have left, maybe I should have set up my own operation somewhere else. Maybe I should be dead. He didn't let me down though, and so I never let him down. It paid off too, on Buffy's twentith birthday. Angel got a call from her late that night, and damned if I had never seen his face so puppy-like. I could tell from the moment he picked up the phone who he was talking to and that she was crying her eyes out. Apparently some really old vampire had thought it would be funny to take the Slayer's boyfriend, vivisect him, and hang him outside her window by his entrails. Buffy wanted help killing the bastard, and Angel sent me.
She wasn't really in the mood for chit chat when I came. So we hunted, and fought. And slew. That's what Slayers do, after all. When he was so much dust on the warehouse floor though, she fell to her knees and sobbed. I recall in vivid detail how her body convulsed there, and how I knelt down next to her. Holding her was awkward as first, but she relaxed in my arms and her body felt as though it was liquid, melting to fit my shape. She told me how warm I was, and nuzzled my neck.
For months afterward, she would have fits of depression, and wake up screaming at night from some horrible dream. Sometimes she would just disappear. It didn't take me long to learn where she went though, and soon when she took off, the others would send me out to bring her back. I would go down to Angel's old apartment and find her in the darkness, and I would hold her until she ran out of tears, and then I would take her home. She dropped out of college somewhere along the way, and Joyce took her back in after she moved out of the dorms. Joyce asked me to stay with Buffy at night occasionally, usually just after I brought her back.
At first, I would sit up all night and watch her, and be there when she had the nightmares. Then I took to lying in bed with her. Then sleeping by her side, always with my arms around her. The nightmares tapered off at that point, and she would beg me to stay with her every night. I don't remember when we started kissing. One day we didn't, and the next day we did constantly. I kissed her good night, good morning, and frequently in between; and she kissed me back. It was the unspoken beginning of our relationship.
I made love to her exactly one year after Riley's death. Strangely, it didn't seem disrespectful to his memory. I'm sure he would have been glad to see her happy. My kisses strayed from her lips for the first time, and we discovered the powerful bond between us. I felt not only the softness of her skin, but the softness of my own touch as well. I felt everything I gave her, and as she orgasmed beneath me, so did I. We looked at each other afterwards with tear-filled eyes, but that night her tears were of joy and not sorrow, and she told me she loved me.
I told her the same, but I don't believe I do. Love isn't a strong enough word for what I have felt for her since that night.
Now as I go to meet her, only one thing is on my mind. Will I still be able to keep her warm and safe when I myself am neither? Until last night, every touch we shared beckoned memories of the first. But now? With my cold flesh... my unbeating heart... my dietary habits...
" Faith!"
I look up from the sidewalk to her face. Her smile is brighter than the sun, and for a moment I am actually afraid I may catch fire and turn to dust. I don't though. And she jogs up to me and pulls me close. Her heat scroches me, but doesn't stay reflected within my skin. It passes through and desipates into the night. I feel tears, but I suck them back into my skull.
" I'm so glad you came..." she says into my neck. I feel her lips curving as she smiles.
I pull away from her and force a smile back. She doesn't buy it, I know. She can sense my insecurities, but she never lets on. Instead she takes my icy hand and drags me into the house. After all those years, she still lives with her mother. Joyce is out of town at the moment though, still doing the work she loves so much. So Buffy and I are alone to talk. I've got a lot to tell her too. I just hope she's still in one piece when I get done.
We reach her room, and I'm expecting to sit down on her bed and hold her and have a heart-to-heart. But the bazillions of candles in various places around the bed tell me different. She strips down right there, and I can only stare; her naked body is so breathtaking with the candlelight flickering over her shape. Or, it would be breathtaking, had I breath to take, I remind myself. Reading my mind, Buffy puts her finger to her lips and shakes her head.
" Shh... no thinking about it just now." She lies down on her bed, stretching sensually, driving me crazy. " Talk later. Right now... take me Faith."
It doesn't take long to shed the clothing I'm wearing. I simply rip through most of it, except the vinyl pants. I love those. Then I join her on her bed. She smiles the not-so-innocent smile that gets me going in the worst way, and arches ever so slightly. She doesn't want me to hold back now. I won't. I move in to kiss her, but she stops me, holding my face in her hands. She locks with my eyes, and I know what she wants me to do.
" Show me Faith... Do it. Don't be afraid..." she whispers so soothingly.
But I am afraid. I'm afraid to deny her and afraid to indulge her. I know I have to do as she says though, because I never want to keep anything hidden from her. There is a second of relief as I change, like being let out of a net, my face escapes it trappings. My fangs are there, glistening in the dimness. I see myself reflected in her eyes, and I do cry this time. I am so hideous. Then I notice she has let go of my face.
" Kiss me," Buffy commands.
I comply as always. She slides her tongue deliciously over every corner of my mouth. Then she boldly strokes my fangs and, without warning, stabs her tongue upward. My fang pierces it slightly. I try to pulls back, still more than uneasy with her blood, but I feel the droplets in my mouth and allow her to hold my head there, my mouth on hers, as she feeds me. Once I have gotten a good taste of her, I lap at her tongue, using a power that most vampires never bother to find out they have. I know, however, that I can close the wounds my teeth have made. Her tongue is like new in seconds, and only then does she let me pull my head back. She smiles at me, and I smile back. She giggles.
" Your fangs are sticking out."
I try to scowl at her, but I know I can't help looking amused. To distract her, I lean in and run my tongue slowly along her earlobe. She stops laughing immediately and shivers. I feel her body ripple, and she presses against me. That heat, now more intense, shooting through me again. I nibble her earlobe, careful not to bite to hard. It can be a great struggle not to pierce flesh at times. The fangs can slip beneath skin like a warm knife through butter. Buffy isn't worried at all though, and she moans when I lick and suck the base of her neck.
... Darkness, down by a familiar cluster of warehouses. The scream of a rusty door, the snap of rotting wood. Faith whips around and darts inside the warehouse after the creature making the sounds...
Where did that come from? Buffy's eyes are wide open, a hint of fear in them. She saw it too. I want to stop, but my body won't let me. My mouth slides lower, over her breasts. Her nipples are flushed and stiff, and I run my tongue around in circles, smaller and smaller, until I reach one of them. I kiss the sensitive flesh softly, and she moans again. Then I let it slip between my lips. She arches instinctively, pushing her breast to me, offering me more.
... Walking cautiously, stepping over debris. Eyes flashing back and forth, searching for something in the shadows. It emerges, but behind her. He wears an evil smile, garish on his horrid, pale face. Slowly the mouth opens, and his teeth, piranha-like and bloodstained, are revealed. Faith turns and...
Buffy screams. My mind cries out desperately, trying to tear my body away so I can comfort her as I always do. Still, I cannot stop. In the back of my head, some little voice is telling me I have to continue, as much as it hurts. She has to know. I love her breasts until they are sore, and then my tongue traces meaningless patterns over her stomach. Even though she is stricken with fear now, and a cold sweat covers her body, she is still moist with arousal. I can smell it. I kiss down the curve of her hip, and her thigh. And then I am there. My tongue works on her and in her and everywhere. She bucks and groans and whimpers and grinds in to me.
... Faith is caught, powerless as she struggles in the grip of the vampire who is eons old; so ancient that his body had become covered in scales, his tongue forked, and his pupils slit. She shakes and quivers and sobs in the utter terror that he inspires, and she begs to be released. He laughs a hollow, coughing laugh, and smirks at her again. A clawed paw grabs a handful of the dark tresses and jerks her head to the side, baring her neck...
Closer and closer... Buffy is almost there. She cries my name between choking sobs.
... Pain, blinding, the kind that can make a person delirious. It shoots through Faith's body, rendering her motionless. He feeds, and feeds, gulping greedily at the potent vitae that pours from the Slayer's throat. His feeding is not gentle, like that of the younger generations. It is meant cause the maximum amount of hurt to its victim. Faith can only let out a pitiful wheezing noise as he finishes. Then he drops her to the dirty floor. Still smirking, now with sick red smears around his maw, he bends down and bites a large chuck out of his wrist. He forces it to Faith's mouth, and the blood sears her throat. She can do nothing to fight, and has to swallow...
She comes. Spasming, and twitching. Just like...
... Faith's body, as it died. Then she lies still. He kicks her hard into wakefulness, and then, when she opens her eyes, Harkonen, Riley's murderer, disappears. Faith gets up and staggers outside. She must to feed soon...
" No..." Buffy murmurs.
I rushed up her body, and pulled her tightly against me. I stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. She trembled, and I wrapped the blankets around us. The intensity of the whole encounter makes me speechless, and I feel terrible that I'm not able to say anything to help her. She understands though, and snuggles closer to let me know it's alright. And eventually, I find my tongue.
" I love you Buffy. Always."
She looks up at me with eyes bloodshot from her crying, and it feels worse than a stake through my heart to look back at them, but I don't turn away.
" I love you too Faith. No matter what. I love you so much..."
" Hehehehe... How touching!"
We look up and there's his face pressed against her window. For a moment I'm afraid that his age will let him ignore the invitation law, but he makes no move to come inside, so I assume it holds. He's smiling and giggling at us, and those eyes burn. And then he's gone. Just like that. Buffy jerks away and vomits violently on the floor. Like any good lover, I hold her hair back, and when she is feeling calm enough to let me leave her, I clean up and bring her water. She is still shaking, and I find that I have to hold the glass for her to get a good sip. It hurts so much to see her like this...
" Faith... Sunrise..." she says after awhile.
She's right too. The sky outside is fading lighter and lighter. I simply rise and draw the blinds though.
" I'm not leaving you," I tell her.
She looks worried, but smiles weakly and clinges to me when I return to her side.
" That was Harkonen..." she whispers, terrified.
I nod. " We have a problem here."