Title: Hot To Cold
Author: Crazy_Girl_Mary
Email: crazy_girl_mary@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: They’re all Joss’ and probably some other people but hey I’m a rebel so I play if I want damn it! Also, the lyrics are Sheryl Crow, and well I can play with them too!
Summary: Faith is finally released from prison and Lilah, suddenly a giving person, sets her up in a beautiful house clear across the country with all the amenities she can stand. The only catch is that Faith has to stay away from Angel, but gripped with immense need she finds him on her front door and tears and tequila ensue. Complete.
Pairings: Faith/Angel… or is it Faith/Angelus?
Category: angst and suspense I suppose.
Spoilers: No real spoilers, I mean I don’t know the eps, and if you know Faith is in jail then you’re pretty much good, if not well then… sorry.
Rating: Some parts are NC-17, and the rest are pretty much boring filler material, no, nonsense, it’s very crucial plot information, (cough) um, which can be totally skipped over to get to the good stuff!
Author’s Comments: I finally have a website! Isn’t that exciting! I know I’m excited and I’ll be even more excited if you email me with your changes and reviews.

Xander walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and buttoning his pants at the same time. He looked up to see Buffy and Willow glaring at him. “What?” he drawled, “When ya gotta go ya gotta go!”

Buffy and Willow smiled despite the circumstances and went back to what they were doing, setting up for the spell to restore Angel’s soul. Xander smiled at Giles who was all patched up and sitting on a chair eying their captive wearily, a butcher knife in his hand should the wounded vamp get frisky.

“You know G-man I really thought you were gonna bite the dust,” Xander said with a smile, “You know on TV, when those people are gonna die and the blood runs from their mouths, thought that was you for sure.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Giles muttered through a mouth full of cotton balls. He had only bit through the tip of his tongue from the pain. The knife was only about four inches and didn’t go all the way in and pierce organs. He wished the same counted for the Slayer who was lying on the counter top, unconscious with a bandage around her waist. The knife had entered her left of her belly button, about an inch and a half from not even entering, and although he didn’t think it had entered any organs, her momentum had caused the knife to go in past the start of the gold hilt and pierce the other end.

He glared at the vampire who was tied to a recliner, and gagged. Giles had to fight the urge every minute to stab him and remove his gag and hear his screams, but he was a professional and he had to stay that way. He would gain nothing for losing control. Willow had brought the small table from the office and was setting up to do the spell. He was proud of Willow. She had become a very strong and talented witch. The spell that had once been very challenging for her would now be a walk in the park. But surprises were inevitable, he knew. They always managed to come.

As if to prove his point Faith sat up on the counter, seeming completely conscience, gasping deeply for breath. She jumped from the counter, as if she had never been injured. Her eyes were distant, staring blankly around, never focusing on a face or an object in that room. Perhaps focusing on things unseen by the others. Giles stood from his chair and got to her as quickly as possible with his injures.

Buffy was already at her side. “Faith?” she asked. “Faith what’s wrong?” her voice was urgent and unheard on the addressed.

Faith moved her lips as if to speak but no words came, only a deep hollow sorrowful sound, then her eyes seemed to roll back in her head and she collapsed on the floor in a heap.

“Faith!” Buffy cried, lifting the younger girl into her arms and carrying her to the couch. She laid her down and watched as the girl’s eyes returned and began to focus slowly on the people surrounding her.

“Jesus,” the girl muttered and a single tear ran from the corner of one eye.

“What?” Buffy asked urgently, “What happened?”

“Did she have a vision?” Willow asked suddenly.

Faith seemed distant again, but Buffy knew there was a difference, she was not as distant and dread filled as moments before.

“I saw…” Faith tried to sit, but barely moved, “I saw the future.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Buffy sat down beside her and held her hands, beginning to lightly urge her to relay what she had seen. Buffy herself had had premonitions in the form of dreams, but they were often vague and she had never come close to having a plain out vision. She was curious about it, but mainly she wanted to know what the other Slayer had seen that had made her shed a tear. “What Faith?” Buffy asked, “Tell us what you saw.”

“It was crazy, it was chaos, you all left this house together, but only one made it home.” Faith said.

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked. “Can you be more clear?”

“Willow did the spell, and the orb was all glowing and then dark, and … there was life in his eyes… there really was. Angel’s soul was returned. You all left together, and then, you were all dead and he was still Angelus. Then he killed me. He came back and killed me.” Faith tried to sit up again and Buffy helped her. Faith’s eyes were distant again as if reliving what she had seen, “It was so final, like there was no avoiding it.” Another tear followed a similar path on the other cheek, but that was all. She looked at Buffy and her eyes were dim, “That’s what will happen Buffy, if we give him his soul.”

Buffy’s face filled with hopelessness. She looked at Faith and then the others, “So we have to kill him?” she asked lightly.

Faith lifted her hands to her face but didn’t cry, almost as if she were trying to rub the life back into her face, or the vision from her eyes. Then she turned to the others who were all sullen.

“How could the spell not work?” Willow asked quietly, feeling as though her ability as a witch were in question.

“I don’t know,” Faith muttered, “I don’t know. I don’t think it was your fault Willow but I know that’s what will happen.” Faith stood suddenly with new resolve. “You all have to go now,” she said with hardened will. “I’m going to kill him myself. I need to handle this without everyone else around.” She was walking to the coats on the floor and now she handed them to their owner with a newly resolved face. She dug in her own pockets and pulled out a cell phone. “Take this and start home as quick as you can. I’ll wait until I know you’re safely out of distance, and then I’ll kill him. I won’t take time with pleasantries and chances, just stake him where he sits.”

Buffy stood rooted to her spot, about to protest, “I will not be the cause of your death! I will not let you be hurt anymore, you’ve all received enough pain because of me.” She looked Buffy in the eyes sincerely, “I know you could never kill him, but I can, I will, and I have to.” She pushed the blonde’s coat into her limp arms and began pushing them to the door. “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Willow quickly gathered her items from the table and was the last to leave the door and go out onto the porch. The sun was shining brightly outside, and the snowfall had stopped. Faith thought that it might have actually been the nicest day since she had been there. She watched the gang reluctantly trudge through the deep snow to the van they had been driving. Buffy was still waiting on the porch. “I can’t just leave.”

“Yes you can,” Faith said, “And you will, I know it must be hard, because you love him, but I think it’s what he would want. He wouldn’t want to risk losing his soul again, or never regaining it, and how would he feel coming back to find more spilt blood by his hands?” Tears began to fall down Buffy’s face, and Faith stepped out onto the cold concrete porch despite her bare feet to hug the other girl. “I’ll take care of it, and I’ll call you.” When she released from the embrace, she too had tears in her eyes, but they never ran, and she lightly pushed Buffy towards the car.

Faith watched her walking, at one point she stopped, but never looked back. She got in the van and it started a crawling pace down the snow-covered drive and onto the plowed street. She watched the vehicle until it disappeared from view then went back into the house and closed the door behind her.

She went over to the refrigerator and grabbed a cold beer then she hopped up to sit on the island counter and stare at her captive as she drained the beer. The bandage dug into her skin and tickled her ribs from her slouched position so she picked up the bloody knife on the counter that had been pulled from that very wound and cut the white tape and bandaging off and threw it lazily to the floor under her dangling feet. Then she watched Angelus’ face as she finished the last bit of beer and threw the beer bottle in the sink with a crash.

Suddenly she stood and holding the knife menacingly she walked over and pulled the gag from Angelus’ mouth then crouched before him and looked up into his evil flickering eyes. “Any last words beast?” she spat as if she had no doubt that he was the scum of the universe and had always treated him accordingly.

He licked his lips and his eyes lit with something she couldn’t place. “I’m very impressed lover,” he said, and a smile crept to his lips.

An even bigger smile invaded Faith’s face and she kissed her captive roughly. When she broke the kiss she replied, “Well I always said I was the world’s greatest actor.” She slid the tip of the knife down his cheek playfully and his eyes never left hers. She let the tip of the knife bounce down his neck, tracing it lightly over the vein that no longer pumped blood. Then over his tattered black shirt, over the wound she had caused straight in his dead heart. She brought her fingers up to caress the bloody wound, “I guess I didn’t lose it after all,” she said with a grin, then continued tracing the knife until she came to the several layers of rope wound around his waist and arms. She cut the first one, and the rest went slack.

Then she removed the ropes and smiled evilly at him. His hands and feet were still tightly bound to the chair and she knew he wouldn’t be able to escape by himself. She mounted his lap and began cutting off the remains of his damaged silk shirt. Then she threw it behind her and ran her hands over his bare chest. He watched all of this without protest, and brought his eyes up to hers. Her eyes were filled with passion and evil that possibly mirrored his own, but he would never know.

She was so complex. He couldn’t remember exactly when he thought she had chosen to betray the Scoobies, still didn’t know if she was just playing a game with him but it didn’t matter. He knew that no matter what she had planned in that twisted mind of hers she wouldn’t just kill him; she would eventually untie him, maybe after taunting him for a while. That would be good, better then good, he would be angry and have a lot of anger and lust to let loose on her. He would have his blood bath with her by his side whether she wanted it now or not.

He closed his eyes as she began to grind back and forth on his lap. Her head was behind her and her hair was swinging down her back. He leaned forward and kissed her chest. She stopped and jumped off of him, giving him a look of distaste. “It’s my turn big boy.” He nodded with a smile. He would let her have her fun for now, although it was the first time he had ever willingly switched roles with his prey.

She skipped over to the radio and turned the blaring music back on. It was her favorite band, but he wasn’t sure of the name only the dark meaningful lyrics and the hard beats. She came before him and began to dance around, loosing herself in the music. Her eyes were locked on his and she pulled her tattered shirt over her head and threw it to his lap. Next she shed her pants before his longing eyes and dry lips. She smiled happily and went over to the counter where a bottle of vodka they had used on the wounds stood open and waiting. She sat on the counter like she had before, then lie back and pushed herself into the middle of the counter; with her knees bent a little she fit perfectly along its length. She grabbed the bottle of vodka and starting with her mouth then neck she began to pour the contents all over her body.

He watched mesmerized as the liquid splashed from her perfect body and onto the counter and floor. Her body arched and moved up to meet the cool contents on her skin. The smile didn’t leave her face as the alcohol burned her stab wound and busted lip. When no more liquid ran from the bottle she threw it to the hard floor next to her with a crash unheard under the pulsing music.

Also unheard was the breaking of the arms on the recliner as Angelus stood with determination in his eyes. He was done playing her games. Now he could continue with his games, the game where he got what he wanted, the game where he made her like him, forever. He had lied when he said he wouldn’t change her until she begged for it. After a good torture, whether she begged or not he would be equally happy to open her heart with his fangs and feast, then offer her the same opportunity. He climbed onto the counter and hung over her without so much as a shifting of air.

She knew he was there though, she smiled even happier and bucked her hips up against his dirty leather pants. Weren’t they always dirty from some thing or another? One moment she couldn’t feel him there, the next he seemed to be touching every part of her. His body stretched along the length of hers, his lips were at her ear, “Ready or not, here I come,” he taunted and she felt his facial features harder and turn brutal against her soft cheek. Ready or not was right. He licked her neck.

She slid out from under him easily. Maybe he wants to chase me, she thought as she ran for the radio, she turned it off, and when she turned back he was sitting on the counter, licking his lips, his beauty restored. She smiled at him like the cat that caught the mouse, and this was only a little unnerving because he was technically the cat and she was the mouse.

She walked back over and used one hand to roughly push him down on the counter, and mount him. He quickly snapped her bra off and it fell onto his chest. Did she like to hear herself moan and scream? Is that why she turned the music off? His hands came up to fondle her soft full breasts and his thumbs ran over her pierced nipples. She giggled like a schoolgirl and picked up the cell phone from next to them. Angelus smiled happily and poked her sensitive areas as she tried to sound sincere on the phone, “Yeah Buff,” he jumped up and licked her nipple and she stifled a moan, “It’s done.” She kissed him tightly then broke it away, and he could hear the Slayer’s tears over the phone, “You don’t have to worry about seeing him again,” she said with a smile that didn’t follow through to her sad sounding voice. Then she hung up the phone without another word.

He grinned triumphantly and let her jump from the counter and lead him to the bathroom. They had quick, hard, sloppy sex on the cold tile floor while the huge bath filled. Then they hurt each other more brutally then they had the first time in the bathtub. Angelus roared into his climax and she threw her neck back as if her head was trying to separate from her body. He changed and began to drain her, listening to her moan lower in volume and disappear altogether. He somehow pulled himself away from the holes he tore into her neck, maybe a little later then he should’ve but she was a Slayer which meant her blood was powerful enough to give him an uncontrollable high for weeks, and that she was strong enough to take it. He knew exactly how much blood a Slayer could lose; after all, his souled self almost killed Buffy, almost. When they did it together, it wouldn’t be an almost.

He lifted her limp hands to his neck and her eyes flashed with recognition, she knew exactly what to do. Her shallow chipped black nails cut through the skin in his neck and cut his vein open. Then he gave her head a gentle nudge and she drank greedily from his open wound. She stopped after a moment and died right in his arms in the tub. She was perfect. He sat there and held her for over two hours, thinking how he would spend eternity holding her. Thinking how they would tear the world apart inch by inch, side by side.

He carried her dripping corpse up the stairs and into the bed, and then he covered her up and climbed in next to her. The only Slayer to ever become a vampire, and she was his. He snuggled up next to his woman, his dark Slayer, his Faith, his religion, and waited anxiously for her to wake. After she woke they would take on the world together.