Title: In the Name of Eurydice
Author: Sadbhyl
Rating: NC17
Spoilers/Setting: Wesley and Faith find a new way to communicate before taking on Angelus
Disclaimer: No well loved fanfic writers were harmed in the writing of this story. Any injured copyrights were unintentional.
Summary: Wesley and Faith find a new way to communicate before taking on Angelus
Notes: Set during Release. Thanks to Mydeira for the challenge.

 

In the Name of Eurydice

I met almost none of her demands (whiskey, cigarettes and a wall), but she forgave me.

Faith came out of the bathroom wearing Wesley’s robe, the darkness of her damp hair and the fresh crimson on her knuckles standing out in stark contrast to the white terry cloth.

“Come sit down,” he said quietly, gesturing to the coffee table. “Let me patch you up.”

“Yeah, okay.” Her voice wasn’t quite numb as she came over and sat in front of him without argument, loosening the robe so he could work.

He started on her neck and worked down slowly, carefully cleaning and salving all her abrasions, gently extracting the deeply imbedded splinters before taping gauze over them to protect them for the few hours it would take them to heal. She let him pull the robe down as he worked, unconcerned with her own growing nudity.

She turned her neck to watch him work. “You don’t have to be so careful,” she said mildly. “The pain reminds me I’m still alive.”

He looked up into her dark eyes. “There are better ways to remember you’re alive.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes didn’t waver from his. “I forgot. It’s been a while.”

He finished working on her back and moved around to start working on her feet, slowly working his way up her calves and thighs, clinical and detached. But the male part of him was very aware of all that the open front of the robe revealed. Full, heavy breasts with dusky dark nipples, the junction of her thighs framing fine black curls. She gasped softly as he cleaned a scrape on the front of her hipbone, and he saw her nipples tighten as he treated an abrasion over her breast. Her reactions touched him more than her nakedness did, and he found his breathing accelerating as he progressed.

Finished, he stood up quickly, moving away from her to methodically clean up the remains of his medical care, trying to remain detached as she just sat there, half uncovered and oblivious.

“Wesley.”

He was surprised when she caught his hand and looked at her automatically. The expression he saw in her eyes was one he had never seen before, not cocky or angry or lost. Just ineffably sad. “Remind me?”

His heart clenched at her quiet, humble request as the blood rushed somewhere further south. But he just covered her cold hand with his and squeezed gently. “It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“You aren’t my Watcher anymore, Wes. You don’t have to worry about propriety and rules anymore.”

There was so much sadness, so much loneliness in that statement that he was shamed all over again. “I am, Faith.” He knelt down in front of her. “I will always be your Watcher, and I will always know that I failed you when you needed me most. There’s no way we can ever make up to each other for the things we’ve done, but I will always feel that sense of responsibility to you.”

She didn’t let go of him. “I can’t do it. I don’t have enough in me to take him on. We’ll find Angelus, and I’ll fight him, and I’ll lose because I don’t have the fire in me any more.”

“And you think I can give you that?”

“I think we can give it to each other. Your light’s gone out, too, hasn’t it? You got lost in the dark and it swallowed you. I can see it all over you, in more than just the rugged five o’clock shadow and the sexy scar.” She rose to her feet, drawing him with her, the robe falling open unheeded. “Remind me, Wesley. It’s your responsibility to make sure I’m ready for what’s coming. I need to remember why it’s worth it.”

Her argument was specious, he knew that. Any kind of encouragement or goading might be all she needed when she got in the thick of it to be able to do what she needed. But with everything they had been through, he couldn’t bring himself to deny her.

She seemed to sense his surrender, wrapping her hand tightly around his neck to draw him down to her kiss. Her mouth was gentle, curious, so surprisingly un-Faith-like that he realized the truth in her words.

For an instant, he was transported back to his training. “Your Slayer will look to you for guidance and reassurance,” they had been told over and over in the Academy. “Set her an example and she will behave accordingly.”

If he wanted her to be more like her old self, then he would just have to show her.

He brought his hands up to tangle into the mane of her hair, tugging on it fiercely as he devoured her mouth. She gasped in surprise but quickly gave herself up to his demands, shrugging out of the robe to tug his shirt out of his pants as his hands skimmed over her curves, clutching hard at her ass to jerk her forward. She ground against his groin eagerly, making him moan softly against the column of her throat. She laughed breathlessly. In retaliation, he reached up and twisted her nipple roughly between his thumb and finger. That electrified her, and with sudden force, she shoved him back to press him against the wall. Her hand snaked between them to release his trousers, letting them fall to the floor to reveal the plain boxers underneath. She took them in with a wicked grin. “Beneath the surface, things haven’t changed all that much, huh, Wes?”

“Maybe you just haven’t gone deep enough,” he purred. Pivoting suddenly, he switched their positions, slamming her hard against the wall in his place. Fire flashed in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, hidden quickly behind the flutter of her eyelids as he caught her mouth again, kicking off his shoes and trousers to press against her full length. He could feel her strength in the soft roundness of her curves, barely leashed to keep from hurting him. But he found he wasn’t afraid of the pain. It was almost a method of communication for them now.

She wrenched open his shirt, sending buttons flying about the room as she slanted her mouth over his. He shrugged the rest of it off, thrusting his tongue past her teeth to duel with hers. She tangled her arms and legs around him, rising and falling to stroke the warm velvet of her breasts against his bare chest. He held her close, his arms replacing the support of the wall as he carried her into the bedroom.

He tossed her onto the bed, where she bounced once before scrambling back towards the pillows, watching avidly as Wes shed the last remnants of his clothing. She looked sinful there against the white cotton of his sheets, her curves full and lush, the luster of her black hair setting off the blood swollen red of her lips. It was wrong to want her this much, but he did, in a way that had nothing to do with her calling or his profession, and which didn’t give a damn about the fifteen year difference in their ages. She drew her knee up seductively and all he cared about was getting between her thighs.

Her breath caught audibly as he prowled up the bed to cover her body, his cock prodding against the inside of her thigh. He dipped his head to run his tongue roughly over one peaked nipple before sucking it tightly between his teeth. He had learned over the past year how to play rough without actually hurting his partner, and that’s what Faith needed right now. The sense of challenge to drive her to push back. He let his hipbone dig into the junction of her thighs as he nipped and suckled at first one breast and then the other. Her fingers were locked in his hair as she fought him, guided him, moaning and twisting beneath the weight of his body. But he resisted her control, rubbing himself against her thigh as he continued his torture of her breasts.

Finally she broke, using her Slayer strength to overpower him, flipping him onto his back and mounting him, her eyes wild and desperate. She pinned his hands down and, with a dexterous shimmy of her hips, positioned his cock between her nether lips and buried him inside her.

They both cried out at the joining. Wes wanted to grab her hips, force her to ride him fast and hard, but she didn’t release his hands, arching over him as she slowly rose and fell, her face contorted with the building pleasure. He moved his hips, tried to get deeper, faster, but she maintained her tempo, keening softly with each stroke.

Finally he resorted to words to try to get what he wanted. “Is that the best you can do?” he ground out.

“Oh, god, Wes.” She dropped her head, her breasts swaying rhythmically to her movements. “It feels so good.”

“It does, Faith,” he agreed fervently. “It feels incredible.” He couldn’t have imagined the clenching softness of her channel if he’d tried. “But you want more. I know you do. I can feel you holding back.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Her voice was deeper, more resonant. He imagined no one had ever talked to her during sex before. It must be incredibly erotic for her.

It was powerfully erotic for him, too. “You won’t. I like it harder. Besides,” he arched against her with a groan as she pulsed around him, “I don’t break so easily. You proved that.”

The reminder could have backfired and scared her off, but instead it seemed to flip a switch. She rose up and slammed down onto him, smashing his balls against the soft curve of her ass. He bent his head back, raising his hips to meet her next thrust. “Oh god, yes!” he growled from deep in his throat. “That’s my girl. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, Faith.”

But he doubted she could have if she wanted to. Now that the pace was set, she rode it hard and fast, lost in the primal drive of it. And he began to learn a side effect of Slayer strength that they didn’t teach in the Academy as the muscles of her quim contracted and released in rolling waves, stroking him as tight as any hand ever could.

The combination of soft and strong finally became too overwhelming for him to stave off any longer. “Faith, I have to . . . oh god, I can’t . . .”

She just moved faster, deeper. “Do it. I need to feel it, Wes. Come on, baby, come for me.”

He tipped his head back and let sensation wash over him. The softness of her thighs against his hips, the tightness of her grip around his wrists, the sight of her full breasts swaying over him, the soft, open mouthed gasps of pleasure pushed out of her throat with each thrust, the smell of his shampoo in her hair, all fused together in one overpowering moment to push him over the edge in thrusting, jerking spasms as he spent deep inside her.

Her response was instantaneous. Her head snapped back, eyes wide and jaw slack, as her body began bucking against him. He wanted to hold her as she came, but she never released the grip on his wrists. Instead, he murmured assuring inanities in a low voice, watching her move through her ecstasy until finally she collapsed on top of him.

At last she released her hold on him and he was able to coast his hands gently over her back and hair as she laid against him, her ragged breath gradually slowing. It was a surprising comfort to hold her like this, protective and gentle in a way he had never been with her before and possibly couldn’t ever again.

She rolled off him with a breathless laugh to flop bonelessly on the mattress beside him. “Damn, English! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow as he drifted a hand down between her breasts. “I think you’ve got that backwards, don’t you?”

“Damn straight!” She barked a laugh, then peered over at him through heavy eyelids. “Were you like this back in Sunnydale and I just missed it?”

“Not hardly.” But he was distracted by her breast, the way it rested perfectly in his hand, the roundness of it that seemed almost too perfect to be real but which quite obviously was. He massaged it lightly, rolling it along the length of his fingers and back, enjoying the sensual weight of it as it moved.

She purred at the attention. “Somehow I never pegged you for a breast man. Figured you for something more proper. Eyes or something.”

“You have beautiful eyes, too.”

He could have sworn she blushed, but she covered it by pushing him back onto his back and covering his chest with hers as she caught his mouth in a slow, languorous kiss. He gave himself up to it, cupping her head and caressing her pulse with his thumb gently. When she pulled back, she was smiling a soft, devilish smile.

“What are you up to?” he asked, his voice sounding low and resonant even to his own ears.

She just raised her eyebrows and, with an evil grin, began sliding down his body.

He groaned aloud at the tender swell of her breasts sliding along his soft cock before she settled herself between his legs. She started placing soft, gentle, almost childlike kisses on and around his shaft and balls.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, resting his hand gently on her head.

“Rinsing out my delicates,” she said, not looking away from her attentions.

He tugged gently on her hair, trying to draw her back up. “Faith, you don’t have to . . .”

“Wes,” she finally looked up at him, impatient but amused. “Just shut up.”

There was nothing for him to do but lie back and let her do what she wanted, the light suction and gentle, kitten-like licks working to slowly revive him. He tipped his head to the side against the pillows to watch her work as he stroked her hair, occasionally humming encouragingly. She was so focused, so intent, but he could tell it was less about giving him pleasure than about getting him ready for her again. She was so used to doing for herself, seeing to her own needs, it didn’t occur to her to let her partner do anything for her. And he knew that carried over to every part of her life. It would be the death of her one day.

He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t fail her, too.

Slipping his hands between them, he caught her wrists in his strongest grip and pulled her up, rolling her as they moved to pin her on her back with her arms above her head. “Stop working so hard,” he murmured in her ear as he nuzzled at her throat. “Don’t worry, we’ll get there.”

She twisted against him. “I can’t wait. Please, I just want . . .”

“I know what you want,” he interrupted her, taking both her wrists in one hand to let his other travel freely down her body. “And I’ll give it to you if you be a good girl and don’t fight me.” He let his hand slide loosely along her thighs.

She moaned in anticipation. “Fuck, Wes, when did you get all masterful?”

“I am how the world has made me. Now, are you going to let me do this for you, or are we done?”

She receded back against the pillows, no longer fighting his grip.

He didn’t waste time with preliminaries she was too wrought up to appreciate, and instead slid his hand up between her thighs and into her slit. She arched up against him with a startled cry, spreading her legs wider for him. She was still so wet, the mingled fluids of her arousal and his come drenching his fingers as he explored her, dipping into her channel before drawing up to paint over her clit and then back down to spread her labia beneath his touch.

“You have a heavy burden that only you can carry,” he purred softly, watching the dance of pleasure across her face as he worked. “But you don’t have to do everything yourself. You have to trust others to support you in the smaller things. You don’t have to do it all yourself, Faith.”

“Oh god, Wes!” She whimpered, writing against his touch. “You’re going to lecture me now?”

He smiled, sinking two fingers into her as his thumb pressed hard into her clit. “I haven’t often had your undivided attention.”

She cursed again and began fucking herself on his hand. “If you’d done this in Sunnydale,” she gasped out, “believe me, I would have listened.”

“If I’d done this in Sunnydale, I’d have gone to prison.” He gave in to the demands of her hips and slipped another finger into her as he pushed deep into her and slipped back out over and over until her body hitched and she broke his grip on her arms to clutch his wrist, holding his hand in place as she came, the flutter of her inner muscles feeling incredible against the sensitive nerves of his fingers.

She collapsed after long minutes, her body limp but her eyes bright as she recovered. With a wicked grin, she used her hold on his wrist to draw his hand up to her mouth, slowly and deliberately cleaning each finger in an erotic emulation of fellatio that was almost more compelling to watch than the real thing. Just as carefully she licked his palm clean, then looked up at him with sultry, heavy eyes. “I think you’re ready for me now.”

He was very aware of the weight and pressure of his erection against her hip. “I think you’re right.”

“Then come here, baby.” She wrapped a leg around his waist encouraging him closer. “Let’s see if you feel as good the second time around.”

She felt unbelievably better. He lowered himself into the bowl of her pelvis and pressed into her, amazed to find her even tighter than the first time. She was still so wet , he was tempted to slide down her body and slake his thirst drinking her dry. But they were running out of time, and he needed to be part of her again, two repentant failures coming together to make one almost good person.

He started moving within her, the warm friction flickering through his body, drawing heady moans from her. She welcomed his kiss, opening her mouth to slant her full lips over his, teasing and nipping along them fervently. She met every thrust of his hips eagerly, every foray of his mouth with abandon. He tangled his fingers in her hair, using it to lever her head back and expose her throat as he moved down to explore the sensitive places there. She groaned softly, letting her hands move across his back, alternately gentle and rough as she goaded him on.

He was riding her hard by the time he reached her breasts, and she was audible in her approval. Slipping an arm beneath the curve of her back, he arched her up, exposing her breasts without missing a stroke. She cried out when he began suckling at one breast, responding by sinking her fingertips into his ass as she bucked harder against him. He growled in pleasure at the soft pain, fucking harder, sucking deeper, holding her closer as he lost himself in the primal joy of the act.

It was over all too quickly. He moved to her other breast, biting down sharply as he took it in his mouth, and she screamed out a surprised curse as she began seizing beneath him. He clutched her close, not wanting to lose hold of her as his own climax flowered over him. With a guttural oath he began shooting deep into her, her clenching muscles pulling every last response out of him until they fell together, limp and exhausted.

He wasn’t sure how long they lay there. They may have dozed for a while, because he didn’t remember shifting to hold her protectively against his chest as he was. He let his fingers drag gently through her hair, an automatic, comforting gesture that staved off the return of thought and responsibility.

Faith was the first one to speak. “Time’s passing. We’ve got a bad guy to spank.” Wes smiled at her bravado, kissing the top of her head lightly. “Do you think you’re ready now?”

She looked up at him, and he saw in her eyes a bit of the fire that had always marked her shining there. “Bring him on.”

“Faith,” he said, stopping her from moving away from him. “We both want this to end the same way. If you trust me, I can help you.”

She sat up, pulling the sheet up between them to cover her breasts. “We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

As she moved off to the bathroom to change, he reflected on all the layers of meaning in that simple statement.

***

He watched her joking with Gunn, teasing Connor. Getting ready to leave. To go play the hero. Just what she was meant to do. He was proud of her, but a part of him found to his surprise that he was a bit hurt she was leaving.

“Wes.” She turned to him finally.

He smiled with a faint nod, pushing down his feelings. “Faith.”

It was her turn to smile, and in that look he could see she understood what he was thinking. But she masked it with humor. “See. Brits know how to say goodbye. Angel here wanted a hug.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, especially when Angel protested, “No, I didn't,” in his most indignant tone.

“Been a good show,” she said, still looking at him.

Gunn was unaware of the double meaning in her words. “Yeah, sit back and let the girl do all the heavy lifting.”

Wes couldn’t find the words to say what he wanted to. Maybe now wasn’t the time. Let her be who she needed to be. “That's pretty much it.”

But her sympathetic smile showed him that things had changed for her, too. And that maybe she would be back to let him carry some of her load again.

The End