Title: Midnight Talker
Author: Angelina
Email: angelina2006@hotmail.com
Feedback: Most appreciated.
Personal Archive: http://members.aol.com/bufpop/default.html
Archive: http://www3.mb.sympatico.ca/~shadow27/angelina.htm
Distribution: Take it, just drop me a line.
Summary: Still in `Revelations' territory, so SPOILER warning still in effect
Rating: R
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they're the property of Joss & Mutant Enemy.
Notes: Set just after Faith fights the big guy in Revelations
Dedication: To RedGirl, for putting up with fragmented, unfinished and untitled versions of these stories.

I can’t stop thinking about her. And it. We did it last night. And it’s all I’ve thought about since. The feel of her on top of me, her deliciously solid weight pressing on my body. Her skin gliding over me as she makes love to me, worships me, owns me. I don’t think they’ll be letting me into the feminist league any time soon if I keep thinking things like that. But I can’t help but feel a slight giddiness every time I remember the touch of her lips on my hot, enflamed flesh. Licking and sucking and caressing and…oh no, I’ve become a nymphomaniac. It’s all her fault. With the leather and the lips and the bod. I was never all that concerned with sex before and now I’m obsessed. Of course it’s not just the sex. It’s everything. But the sex is especially fun.

With Xander sex was good. Well, I don’t know if you’d call it sex coz we didn’t…umm…indulge in…actual intercourse. I wonder why that is. It’s not like he didn’t want it. It was often very obvious just how much he wanted it. But he never forced the issue…which was sweet. And just adds to the mountain of guilt slowly building on my shoulders. Way to kill my happy Faith-sex-buzz. Now I’m back to serious thoughts. Damn.

Right, so, telling Xander. How do I go about it exactly? Do I tell him why I’m breaking up with him? Would it make it better if there was someone else? Or should I just leave any mention of Faith out? But if I don’t tell him the real reason then that’s like I’m saying that being with nobody is better than being with him. That might dent his ego a bit. And if I did happen to mention Faith…aaaaargh! I don’t know. How would he take it? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Boys like the thought of girls together, right? Who am I kidding? If Xander came to me and told me he’d been cheating on me and now wanted to get together with the other party, be they male or female, I’d kill him. Not literally of course. But I’d…be very displeased. So I can hardly expect him to say ‘That’s great Cordy, I’m so happy for you and your new lover, please continue with my full blessing.’ That’d be too much to hope for. I’ll definitely tell him soon because it really is unfair of me to do this to him.

Where the hell is Faith anyway? If I sit outside this motel much longer I’ll get arrested for stalking. Or, from the way the people walking around here are dressed, kerb crawling. Wouldn’t mother just love that? I’d thought Faith’d be home earlier tonight. I mean, after last night I’m surprised she can stay away from me. What with me being fabulous in bed and all. But slaying isn’t an exact science and she doesn’t work office hours so there are no guarantees. Maybe her and Buffy had to go back and report to Giles or something.

Hmmm, her and Buffy. What is that girl’s deal? I know it’s silly but that stupid comment she made in the Bronze last night really bugged me. Is it so far fetched? I mean, they’re always out patrolling together, and training in the library in those little work-out outfits. And let’s face it, Faith’s carrying on a secret affair with me, why not Buffy too? She wasn’t exactly enthused when I mentioned telling people. And Buffy’s run with men hasn’t been exemplary. A prime candidate for switching sides if ever I saw one. I bet they’re at it right now. In a mausoleum or a demon’s lair or somewhere equally unromantic. Maybe Buffy likes it dirty. Faith could get the rough stuff with Buffy and the smooth stuff with me. I bet that’s it. Ugh, I cannot believe that bitch is cheating on me! And with that little blonde skank of all people. Like it’s not bad enough that every guy at Sunnydale High drools over her at every opportunity, including my boyfriend and several of my past interests. Now she’s doing my girlfriend in graveyards. It’s just not fair!

Come on Cordy, get a grip on yourself. You just imagined all of that. You imagined all of it. Not that it’s beyond the realm of possibility. But it is by no means reality. Yet. Just talk to Faith. Enquire, subtly, as to her opinion of diminutive blonde people. Yeah, well, that is if she ever makes it home before dawn. I’m giving her another half hour and then I’m gone. Well, maybe another hour. But that’s it. Definitely.

Wait a sec, that could be her now. Uh huh, that’s her. She’s walking funny though…sort of…limpi…shit, she’s hurt. Before I know it I’m out of the car and sprinting towards her. Which isn’t easy in heels. She looks up at the racket I’m making and flashes me a smile that quickly turns into a wince.

“Oh my God are you OK? What happened? Are you hurt? Dumb question, sorry. What happened?”

I look her over and I’m relieved to see there’s no blood.

“I’m just a little banged up, that’s all. Ribs are bit sore.”

I reach out and touch her side, quickly withdrawing my hand when she gasps in pain.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“S’OK babe, just uh…maybe lay off with the touching for a little while huh?”

She grins apologetically.

“So, what happened? For the third time.”

“Got beat up.”

“Duh, by who? How many were there?”

“One”

One? One vamp, or whatever, did this to her? One? My face must betray my surprise because she huffs indignantly.

“Yeah one! But… he was fuckin’ huge…like 7 feet tall or somethin’ and…”

Hey, who am I to critcise? I’d be lucky if I could take on one human. And a really little human at that. A child. Possibly a toddler.

“Faith, shut up, there’s no need to justify your injuries to me. Let’s just get you inside and get you fixed up.”

She eyes the stairs up to her floor warily, like they’re about to eat her or something. I’m taking it that it hurts her ribs to walk. Hence the limp.

“Here, lean on me.”

I suddenly feel the intense desire to burst into song. But I don’t think that’d go down well with Ms Self-Sufficiency, who at the moment is regarding me like I just suggested she start wearing pastels.

“Uh, no…it’s OK…I think I got stairs down.”

Stubborn ass. Fine, let her struggle up in agony. I may sound like a hard hearted bitch, but in my experience people usually have to learn the hard way. She takes a deep breath and regrets it, looks like it hurts to do that too. Then she takes her first step up the stairs. She doubles over in pain, but quite impressively manages not to cry out. The same can’t be said for her second step. I take pity on her and I don’t actually force her to physically ask for my help. Instead I move towards her and take her arm, supporting her weight and taking the stairs slowly one at a time. She starts to protest about half way up.

“Really, look I can take it from here…it’s not that bad…”

“You want me to poke you in the side again?”

She shuts up. We finally reach the top and she turns to me.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

We’re not big on mushy speeches. Evidently. She opens the door and we enter. She gingerly lies on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Seemingly finding one she lets out a long sigh of relief. I decide to let her enjoy it for a little while so I head into her simple bathroom and retrieve the necessary supplies to attend to her needs. Her medical needs I mean. Ribs are a tricky thing, in such a silly place that it makes them really hard to do anything for. They’ll be better in the morning anyway, slayer healing is a wonderful thing. So I’ll just bind them up tonight with a bandage.

Armed with my stuff I go back out and take a second just to look at her. She’s lying with her side cradled and her eyes closed. She’s simply adorable. I walk slowly to the bed and sit down. She opens her eyes and looks up at me without saying anything. I think I read somewhere that a person’s eyes are the window to their soul. If that’s the case, Faith’s soul is big, deep and beautiful. God, I’m expecting Hallmark’s recruitment call any day now.

“We gonna play ‘Doctor’ now? You did promise me the other night…”

I raise an eyebrow at her mischievous and flirty tone.

“I thought touching was a no-no at the moment.”

“Well…I didn’t say anything about touching lips, I could just about manage that.”

I lean in and softly press my lips to hers. It was meant to be very brief. It doesn’t turn out that way when she opens her mouth and seeks entry to mine. Like I’m going to refuse. Then it’s prolonged further when she draws my tongue into her mouth, caressing it with her own. Without thinking I lean further into her, needing more contact. A little too much contact as it happens.

“Ah ah ah ah ah ah, Cor, the ribs, ah!”

“Oh sorry! I’m so sorry. Sorry.”

She smiles half-heartedly. She can hardly blame me. She started it with all the talk of ‘playing doctor’ and then practically begged me to kiss her. Maybe we should just get to the nursing part of the evening now.

“Here, sit up and take your jacket and top off.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Oh please, do you have to see innuendo in everything?”

“That one was just a little too easy C.”

Nevertheless, she shifts herself into a sitting position and struggles to get out of her beige jacket. How the girl managed to carry such a selection of jackets with her on the run from Boston is beyond me. And I’m not even going to mention the amount of pants she owns. I want to help in the removal of clothing, but I’ll probably just hurt her again if I do. Soon she sits in nothing but a simple black bra.

“You want this off too?”

The answer to that question is an emphatic ‘yes’. But if that comes off there’s no way I’ll be able to keep my hands off her. So it’s better if it’s on.

“No, you can keep that on.”

She grins. I think she knows the reasoning behind that answer. A huge bruise covers most of her left side. It’s deep, deep purple and now I feel really bad for pressing on it those times. I concentrate on tending to the bruise, which keeps my mind off the contents of her bra. I pour some witch hazel onto cotton wool and apply it to the damaged area. Hundreds of goose pimples rise up at the contact. I’d like to think I caused them but it was probably the cold liquid touching hot flesh. With that done I unfurl the bandage and start to wind it around her midsection, tight enough to support but not to be painful.

“So…what’s the deal with B and Angel?”

That was out of the blue. Angel. I haven’t thought about him in a while. The nightmares are getting less frequent. Why is she suddenly interested in Angel?

“Where did that come from?”

“Oh ya know, me and B were talkin’ earlier an’ I mentioned Angel and she just sort of clammed up, I was just wonderin’ what the scoop was.”

Is she scoping out the competition? Wondering if she’s got a lot to live up to? Is she jealous?

“There’s no scoop. He was good, she slept with him, he went bad, killed a bunch of people and she sent him to hell. That’s it. Why are you so interested in Buffy’s love life all of a sudden?”

“I’m not! But you hafta admit, a vampire an’ a slayer doin’ the deed, on the interestin’ scale it’s pretty high up there.”

“Are you sleeping with Buffy?”

So much for subtlety. I didn’t mean to say that. I really didn’t. And now I’m wishing for the floor to open up and swallow me because hearing it out loud made it sound really silly.

“Huh?”

Oh well, no point in backing down now.

“You heard me, are you sleeping with Buffy?”

“No.”

There it is, an answer. The one I wanted to hear. Fair enough.

“OK. Good.”

I return my attention to bandaging, trying to ignore the shocked look on her face. A hand comes down to still mine. I look up into her confused brown eyes and mentally kick my own ass.

“Uh, C? You can’t just say somethin’ like that an’ then say ‘OK good’…what the fuck was that all about? Why the fuck would I be sleeping with Buffy?”

I cringe inwardly at the hurt tone in her voice. I’m going to have some explaining to do to get out of this one.

“I don’t know. It’s just, you know, you’re so…and she’s…well just about everybody thinks she’s all that and she said that thing last night about dating you and I got to thinking about stuff and well, nobody knows about us so there’s no reason I’d know if you were sleeping with her and now you’re asking about Angel and I just thought I’d ask and you’re not so everything’s fine.”

Wow, got that out in one breath. Not sure it made sense. I’m guessing not from the utter bewilderment on her face.

“Uuuuhhh…what?”

“Look, it was just me and my paranoia it’s just that I’ve never liked anyone as much as I like you and I guess I’m scared that maybe you don’t feel the same way so when Buffy said that last night it made me nervous and I started imagining all these scenarios involving you and her and cemeteries and sweating and after last night I so didn’t want you to be sleeping with her and…”

Thank God one of us decided to shut me up. It was her, incidentally, with her lips. Not that I’m complaining. I’m careful this time not to hurt her. We part and she cups my cheek, gazing into my eyes with an indulgent smile adorning her perfect features.

“Cordelia, I’m not fucking Buffy. I blew her off early tonight so I could get back here…course the big ugly dude sidetracked me a bit. I’m not fucking anybody but you. And I don’t want to be fucking anybody but you…which is kinda weird for me. But I’m quite happy with the way things are goin’ here. Like I said before, I had my eye on ya for a while. I’m cool with this and…what I’m tryin’ to say here is that…well…ya know…that I…really like you an’ shit.”

And there it was. An admission of ‘really liking’. It was perhaps the single most romantic thing I have ever heard. I finish tying her bandage and with no further words we lie back on the bed. She adjusts herself so that her side is cradled and her head is resting on my chest. There will be no sex tonight. But I don’t care. She really likes me.