Title: All Hands On Deck
Author: hold_that_thought
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers/Setting: Vaguely through AtS Season 4
Disclaimer: The characters used within are the property of Mutant Enemy, Twentieth Century Fox, and of course Joss Whedon. It's their sandbox, I'm just playing in it.
Pairing: Wesley/Lilah/Faith
Summary: It's a helluva town.
Notes: Written for Wesfaithlah day of Lilah Month! This fic is set between Beads and Keep Me Up, but it's a PWP, so not much with the continuing storyline or anything. (Completed 06/06/04)
Archive: More than likely okay, but please ask first.
Feedback: Greatly appreciated (APostModernSleaz@aol.com)

All Hands On Deck

"I'm simply saying, the fact that Americans continue to choke down this offal borders on appalling," Wesley said, tossing the book aside.

Lilah continued scrolling through the document on her laptop. She was supposed to keep up with Wolfram and Hart business while on vacation, but the past few nights had proved a little too decadent to be conducive for work. Now, she was behind, and Wesley was winding up for a whopper of a rant which would be amusing, but distracting at best.

"It's exactly this sort of over-romantic idealization of vampires that leads to cults of naïve children having their throats ripped out. Really, someone should be held accountable."

She swung down the laptop screen and swiveled around in her chair. Wesley was actually…well, pouting was too feminine, and if she dared suggest he was brooding, he'd make sure she couldn't walk for a week.

Actually, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"I'll be sure to pass on your regards to Miss Rice," Lilah said, crossing the room and crawling onto the bed with Wesley. "She's a client, you know."

"Hardly surprising." Wesley ran the tip of his finger down her cheek. "There's really only one vampire prone to self-indulgent ramblings…him I could perhaps believe she'd interviewed, had the damnable book not been published during his rat-eating phase."

Lilah raised an eyebrow. "Rat eating, self-indulgent ramblings…are we sure you-know-who isn't the vampire in question?"

"That's not funny."

Lilah laughed, straddling his hips and brushing her hair over his face. "Says you. Why are you reading Interview With A Vampire anyway?"

"Whoever stayed here last left it behind. I can't imagine why."

"I'm just surprised someone staying at the Marriott Marquis had such bad literary taste."

"Why are we staying here again?"

"Mm, Faith wanted someplace near Times Square," Lilah said, nipping at his jaw. "Speaking of, what do you say we go find our girl?"

***

"This one," Lilah said.

"What makes you so sure?"

She looked around. The green and white bar sign cast an eerie glow over the enormous crowd of sailors, white-clad bodies packed in hip to shoulder and spilling out onto the sidewalk. It was by far the most sailor-laden bar they'd encountered yet. God bless Fleet Week. Her lips curved into a smile. "Trust me."

Sure enough, as they wound their way into the bar, Faith's throaty laugh rang out clear over the buzz of intoxicated bar patrons. They spotted her towards the back of the room, sitting on a sailor's lap with his hat perched atop her head and his hand idly stroking her thigh.

Wesley's hand tightened around Lilah's wrist. It wasn't that he considered Lilah and Faith his property…except, to an extent he did. At any rate, Faith had to know this tableau would only goad Wesley into a jealous rage, making him do something drastic to mark his territory.

Lilah smiled. Faith could be downright brilliant at times.

Wesley walked over and caught Faith by the arm, yanking her to her feet and roughly slamming his lips against hers, doing everything short of peeing on her leg to say "mine."

"Hey," the sailor roared, jumping to his feet. His cornfed cheeks flushed, the blonde spikes of his crewcut quivering with rage.

"It's okay," Faith mumbled, pulling away from Wesley. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, then followed it up with a smug grin. "He's with me."

By now, a small crowd was beginning to gather around them. As fun as it would be to see Wesley take on a dozen sailors, their last vacation had ended in a brawl outside Edinburgh Castle. Faith and Wesley ended up limping for a week, and in a decidedly unsexy way. So Lilah put on her best diplomatic smile and sidled up to Faith, slipping her arm around her waist.

"We just wanted to see how you were," she said, nuzzling Faith's neck and brushing her hand across the Slayer's bare tummy, putting on a good show for the boys in uniform. "We're gonna head back to the hotel room…don't stay out too long?"

Faith rewarded Lilah -- and the sailors by proxy -- with an apple martini-flavored kiss. "Wouldn't dream of it, Li."

Faith adjusted her hat and gave a mollifying smile to the still-flushed but now slightly awestruck owner. Then, she winked at Wesley and gave him a small wave goodbye.

The three-block walk back to the hotel was silent, Wesley's anger casting a kind of cool darkness over the balmy June night that even the glittering urban boardwalk atmosphere of 42nd Street couldn't dissipate. Lilah hadn't seen him so worked up in ages, and she was…oddly glad she'd neglected to pull on a pair of panties before they'd set out earlier.

Every sailor they passed made him squeeze her hand a little harder, walk a little faster. Lilah, meanwhile, enjoyed the scenery. Cliché or no, well-cut bodies in those unbelievably tight little uniforms had an appeal of masculine innocence that was hard to resist. She knew better than to express that sentiment to Wes, of course, but it couldn't hurt to look. And maybe fantasize about what Wesley would look like in one of those uniforms....

Back in the hotel lobby, Lilah was surprised to see the whole place was nearly empty. She glanced at Wesley's watch -- it was only 2 a.m. So much for the city that never sleeps.

As they waited for the interminably-slow elevator to arrive, Lilah leaned against him and said, "She's just having fun." Wesley's jaw clenched. "C'mon, bringing Faith to New York City during Fleet Week is like dropping a kid into a candy store."

At that moment, the elevator arrived and Wesley shoved Lilah inside. Pushing the button for the top floor, he then backed her against the wall. From the corner of her eye, Lilah could see the floors whoosh past. The whole elevator was made of glass, lined with lights, that gave one the feeling of being utterly on display. Which they practically were, when the elevator ground to a halt outside the darkened restaurant level which was still inhabited by a few stragglers.

Wesley grabbed her by the hips and slid her onto the cool, gold handle that ringed the elevator. Lilah wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him closer, shivering as the cool glass pressed against the back of her neck, the cool metal bar biting into the backs of her thighs. Everything a perfect contrast to Wesley's warm hands creeping under her skirt, warm tongue tracing a delicate line up her neck.

His breath came in ragged pants against her ear, fogging up the whole elevator as his fingers teased her, constantly threatening to bury themselves inside before retreating. Giving just a faint glimpse of pleasure before pulling back. Lilah let out a frustrated whimper and tried to slide closer, giving him a warning nip on his earlobe. But Wesley firmly pushed her back and kept teasing. She was about to beg for mercy when the elevator started up again, opening with a near-deafening ding at the top floor.

Lilah slid off the bar, not bothering to pull her skirt down as they stumbled out of the elevator, half-running as best they could with her weak knees and his rock-hard erection, finally reaching their room at the end of the hall.

Inside, she didn't bother turning on the lights or locking the door or anything so time consuming. She knew Wes, and she knew he needed to be fucked. Hard. Now. His eyes were dark, lips set in a firm line. Still pretty pissed over Faith's antics, then. Lilah tried a soothing, soft approach, gently bringing her hands up to cup his face. It worked for a second, with his hands finding the back of her neck and moving reassuringly down her spine as he reached down to kiss her.

Then, he suddenly seized her by the waist and pushed her away. "Take off your clothes," he growled, the same manic look in his eye that had punctuated their earliest couplings.

She pushed her skirt to the floor unceremoniously, then peeled off her top. Lilah was good at stripteasing. She could sinuously swivel her hips, undo each button of her blouse agonizingly slowly, hiding more than she was actually revealing so that Wesley would come in his pants without her laying a single finger on him.

But it wasn't that kind of night.

When she unclasped her bra and was finally naked, shivering in the onslaught of cool air from the air conditioner some idiot had cranked up, Wesley turned away and headed for one of the still-packed suitcases. Lilah knew what he was going for, and she didn't have to be further instructed.

She neatly arranged herself on the bed and waited for Wesley. After an interminable amount of time, he found what he was looking for and gave an approving "hm" before turning back around.

Handcuffs. Not a silk scarf, not fuzzy-covered cuffs, but the straight up metal kind. The painful kind.

Good choice.

The bed, of course, didn't have a wrought-iron headboard, but Wes was good at improvising. He kneeled next to her, grabbing her arms and pinning them above her head. The handcuffs were looped around the bedpost before being clamped around her wrists, the metal biting into her skin.

Then his mouth was savagely moving against hers, more teeth than lips, callused hands roughly grasping at the curve of her waist. He was a tumultuous sea of motion and anger, and fuck if Lilah didn't want to drown.

As he made his way down her body, Lilah knew what was coming next. Besides her, of course. This wasn't an act of love, or devotion, or even lust. This was about Wesley making Lilah orgasm hard and fast, because he could. Because he knew that, even after a year together, he could drive her crazy just by looking at her. Because he knew Lilah would rather die than admit he had that power, but she'd still whimper and twist under his touch.

He was still in that horrible teasing mode, and Lilah's wrists were chafing from all the twisting she was doing, trying to angle her hips to meet his mouth. God, he was horrible, sadistic as hell, not at all nice, except when his tongue swiped across her clit like that, and just a little higher, just a little higher....

"Damn, Li, you look like you're gonna burst," Faith said.

And she did.

The world eventually stopped spinning, and there was Faith, standing next to the bed, amused grin and arms crossed under her chest.

She was wearing a sailor outfit. An ill-fitting one, at that. A ratty piece of twine cinched the pants around her waist, and they were still falling down, revealing the tops of her slim hips. The top was half-unbuttoned, revealing the slope of her breasts under a black lace bra, and the black tie and little white hat were both comedically cockeyed. She looked like some kind of war refugee, but the overall effect was...hot.

"What's-his-face is gonna be pissed as hell when he wakes up and finds his clothes missing," Faith said, smirking. "I snatched 'em with Wes in mind, but then I was like...too Village People, you know?"

"Well, I approve," Lilah murmured.

Wesley licked his lips, looking absolutely predatory. "You think that's funny, Faith?"

"Kinda, yeah."

He lunged off the bed, landing in his feet only long enough to grab Faith by the hair and throw her across the foot of the bed, right at Lilah's feet, before throwing himself back down on top of her. Faith squeaked in protest, but if she was really offended, she could have easily thrown him through to opposing wall. Instead, she laid languidly on the bed, allowing him to rip every single button off her shirt. Next, he pulled at the twine belt, yanking so hard that Faith's hips jerked off the mattress, and Lilah winced in sympathy. But Faith just thrust her chin out defiantly, staring Wesley down as he peeled back her stolen pants.

When she reached down towards his zipper, Wesley slapped her hand away, instead choosing to free his erection himself. He didn't even bother pushing his pants down before driving himself right into her, the jagged sides of the zipper and rough pants material rubbing against Faith's thighs.

"You filthy little slut," he growled, slamming his cock into her, lips curled into a sneer. "Acting like common street trash. Do you want to be common street trash, Faith?"

And the whole time, Faith kept her eyes locked on his, hips moving in time with his, letting him pour every ounce of that anger into her. She didn't mind. Hell, she seemed to be reveling in it. Her dark hair fanned out against the white sheets, and Wesley ran his fingers through that hair, wrenching her head back.

"You whore," he said, taking one of her nipples into his mouth and biting down hard.

It made Lilah itch to watch, because she needed to be touched or, barring that, needed her fucking hands free to touch herself. She uselessly pulled at the handcuffs, only succeeding in chafing her wrists more. It was frustrating, but she wasn't going to complain because it was the hottest show she'd seen in a long, long time.

Wesley ran his hands up Faith's arms, pinning her to the mattress as he continued to thrust into her. She came with a shrill scream, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him close, trying to wrap his whole body around her as if he wasn't in one of his psycho-kill-everything moods.

When he came a moment later, he collapsed in an ungainly manner atop her. Faith caught Lilah's eye and grinned a little. Lilah rolled her eyes and grinned back.

"Hey, Wes?" Faith said.

"What?" he muttered, still facedown in her hair.

"I didn't fuck that sailor."

He pushed himself up with one arm and looked down at her. "You...."

"Lured him into an alley, punched his lights out, and stripped him."

"Why the bloody hell would you do that?" Wesley said, sitting up and glancing between the two women with a look of absolute bewilderment on his face.

"Because now I'm not gonna be able to walk straight for a week, and I'm betting she's not doing much better," Faith said, laughing and scooting up the bed to snuggle next to Lilah.

Wesley sighed and shook his head, snatching the handcuff keys off the bed and reaching up to free Lilah's wrists. She let her arms drop down with a satisfied sigh, happy they hadn't fallen off or anything.

"You two could drive a man crazy, you know."

"True," Faith nodded, giving Wes an almost sweet smile as he took his place next to Lilah. "But just think -- next time, you can wear the sailor suit!"