Title: Push It
Author: Angelina
Email: angelina2006@hotmail.com

OK, it’s official, I’m worried. She’s not in her motel room, she’s not at the Bronze, she’s not in one of Sunnydale’s many beautiful cemeteries. Where the hell is she? I knew I shouldn’t have gotten sidetracked yesterday. I knew I should have found her straightaway. But I didn’t. No, one little jibe from that walking lollipop Harmony about demoting me from Captain and I’m off to cheerleading practice. I’m so lame and fickle. I should really try to work on that. I knew there was something weird about that Watcher bitch. She definitely had some issues…Kristen Scott Thomas wannabe.

I should have been there with her. I shouldn’t have had to hear it from Willow today. It really, and I mean really, annoyed me having to find out from her. I don’t know why. Maybe it just hit home that I’m not important enough to have been brought along on this little adventure. Or maybe it was because it involved Faith and I wasn’t there. I wanted to scream at Willow: ‘She’s my fucking girlfriend!’ Because there she was, standing with the big eyes and the earnest look, telling me how Gwen Post had gone psycho and that Faith had been taken so far in by her that she fought with Buffy, an actual fist fight. And of course, that Princess Buffy had been right about everything. Oh, and also, Angel appears to be good, for the moment. I don’t think I’ll be taking my crucifix off just yet. But anyway, Faith had been suckered by this stupid bitch, which is like, the last thing she needs. So I need to find her and make sure she’s OK.

Oh, wait a sec…this looks promising. A short dark haired girl wearing a battered leather jacket and tight blood-red leather pants. That’s her. She’s walking really slowly and her head’s down. Which isn’t like her at all. She’s normally so ballsy and struts about like a damn peacock. I’m not liking this. I abandon the car and run after her, wishing I wasn’t wearing high heels. She’s not turning around despite the clicking of my heels on the street.

“Go away C.”

She didn’t look at me. She never even broke stride. I ignore her words and finally catch up with her. I reach out and grab her arm.

“Lemme go!”

She shrugs me off roughly. It hurt more than I expected. Not physically, she’d never do that. But it hurt me inside that she pushed me away. But I’ve never been a quitter and I’ll be damned if I’m starting now. I square my shoulders and take off after her again. I manage to get in front of her and I get my hands on her shoulders. She stops and looks directly at me. Her cheek is bruised and swollen. Buffy’s handiwork I presume. I reach out and touch my fingertips to the mottled flesh of her face. She flinches away at the light contact.

“Are you fucking deaf? I said, go away.”

She over pronounces each word, like I’m an imbecile or something.

“No!”

I match her angry glare with one of determination. There’s no way she’s getting away without talking to me. One of her eyebrows is creeping upwards and I’m guessing that not many people have spoken to her like this. But I know she won’t hurt me. Just how I know this is a bit unclear to me, but I’m very sure about that fact. She sighs.

“What d’ you want?”

She’s acting so nonchalant and it’s killing me. I know she’s hurting, I know her pride’s been dented, I know her trust has been shattered. So why can’t she just show that?

“I want you to talk to me. I heard about what happened earlier and I know you didn’t talk to anyone afterwards. C’mon Faith, let’s just go back to the car and talk. Please? C’mon, you can trust me. Please?”

Oh God, begging already? That’s not a good sign. It just slipped out. Now she knows she’s got the upper hand. But her eyes just carry defeat.

“Funny, you’re the third person to say that to me today. One of ‘em went psycho and the other one ended up pounding on my face for a while. Trust really worked out with them huh? Why would I want to trust you?”

She’s watching me closely now, seeing each of her words hit me and observing their impact. But I know what she’s doing and I won’t let her.

“It’s not gonna work Faith. Stop pushing me away. I know we have something and I’m not going to let you ruin it over some English bitch with a Goddess complex.”

She’s laughing now. Well, if you could call it that. It’s not her real laugh, it’s not the deep chuckle that starts off in her chest and works its way up. I’ve listened to that too many times to mistake this for genuine laughter. This is hollow and it’s fake. And it’s scaring me.

“We ‘have something’? What somethin’ do we have Queen C? Huh? We’ve fucked once, talked some. Hardly some big fuckin’ romance is it?”

Since when were words so painful? Especially when I know she’s lying. I know I mean more that that to her. I know I do.

“Faith, I know this woman hurt you. I know people have hurt you before. But pushing me away from you isn’t going to help anything. Tell me you’ve talked to anyone else here in Sunnydale the way you’ve talked to me. Tell me you’ve kissed someone else and made them feel the way I feel. Tell me that and I’ll leave you alone right now. Because then I’ll know that I’m not the only person you’ve got and I won’t be scared to leave you. So tell me.”

I don’t know when the tears started but they’re fairly flowing now. I’m holding onto the lapels of her jacket and I’m very aware of how desperate I sound. But I can’t help it; something tells me that if I let her go now she might not come back. And that thought frightens me more than I thought possible. She finally looks back up at me. The anger’s gone. Replaced by…by nothing. Her face is empty, her eyes dead. The bruising on her face seems to stand out even more against the starkness of her expression.

“I can’t tell you that C. But I can tell you that you don’t want me. I’m trouble, always have been. So get out now, while you can, before I drag you down.”

It was said with such a lack of emotion that it takes me a second to register what she said. By the time I do she’s removing my fingers from her clothing. I tighten my grip and my resolve.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here until we talk.”

She looks at me incredulously, which I prefer to the blank look of earlier.

“C, ya think I couldn’t get your hands off me if I wanted to?”

“Then you must not want to coz they’re still there.”

She shakes her head and the hint of a dimple creases her cheek. All of a sudden I’m kissing her, still holding onto her jacket. I know it’s not exactly the time or place for displays of affection but I just had to kiss her. She’s surprised, that much is evident, but it doesn’t stop her kissing me back when she recovers. Her warm mouth is gentle against mine and her powerful arms slowly wind themselves around my body. I let go of her lapels and wrap my arms around her neck tightly.

Then the kiss changes. The urgency in her movements is unmistakable, I’m finding it difficult keeping up with her. And then I feel my feet leave the ground. She’s lifting me up and we’re moving. My back makes contact with the stone wall of an alley. I emit a really unladylike grunt upon meeting the unrelenting surface. Then her hands are everywhere. Running up my thighs, moving over my breasts, buried in my hair, holding me tight. Her lips claim mine roughly and the kiss bruises. I try to move with her but she’s too fast and I’m reduced to a quivering mess of arousal and confusion. I don’t know what’s happening but at least she’s still here, still with me.

She pulls away suddenly, her eyes unreadable in the dim light of the alley. My breathing is loud in the night silence.

“This is me, Cordelia. This is what I’m about. ‘Get some, get gone.’ I don’t do relationships and I don’t do deep and meaningful. Maybe I thought I could but I can’t. So this is me, take it or leave it.”

I wish I could see her face, because from her voice I’d say she’s really close to tears. I could walk away from her now and forget all about this temporary insanity. I could pretend not to notice how she affects me with her mere presence. I could go back to biting my lip when Xander’s between my thighs. Or I could play her at her own game.

“So we’re reverting to the ‘quick fuck’ option huh? Right then. Go ahead. Fuck me. Fuck me good Faith, cuz if we do it now, like this, it’ll be the last time you ever see me.”

Holding my breath, I grab her hand and thrust it between my legs. She did not expect that at all and she quickly looks up and I finally get a glimpse of her face. She looks young. Like a little girl. A scared, hurt little girl and I can feel my resolve slipping. She looks down at where her hand is resting. My heart is thundering in my chest as her head stays bowed. She hasn’t removed her hand but she hasn’t done anything with it either.

Then a tiny sound comes out of nowhere. It’s like a cross between a sniff and a whimper. And I realise it came from Faith. Ever so slowly she moves towards me, discreetly removing her hand as she does so. She keeps her head down and soon her forehead is on my shoulder. Her hands tentatively rest on my hips. I carefully encircle her with my arms and wrap her in a tight, reassuring embrace.

“I’m sorry.”

I barely hear the whispered words but I’m quick to respond. I pull away slightly and look down at her face, buried in my shoulder.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I understand why you said what you said. I know what you were doing. And it doesn’t matter now.”

I lean down and press a slow kiss to her bruised cheek. I feel a sob escape her chest at the action. It’s followed by another and another until her whole body is wracked with sobs. I don’t have slayer strength so the weight of her body leaning completely on me is too much for me to take for a prolonged period. Somehow I get us both on the ground without letting go of her. I hold her to me and rock her, stroking her long hair until her crying eases. She looks up at me with those impossibly deep eyes, currently bloodshot but still breathtakingly beautiful. She attempts a smile.

“You’ve probably wrecked your skirt.”

I look down at where I’m sitting. It’s not the cleanest of alleys and I dread to think which substances are seeping into my clothing.

“I’ve got plenty skirts. Don’t worry about it.”

She nods and sniffs. However, it is a really expensive skirt.

“That said, we probably should get out of here.”

Hey, I’m only thinking of our health. Who knows what we could catch if we sit in the gutter of a stinking alley too long? Faith jumps to her feet, wiping her arm across her eyes. She holds her hand down to pull me up. We start to walk in silence towards my car. Still without speaking I feel her hand slip into mine. We reach the car and get inside. I’m reluctant to turn on the engine without knowing where I’m headed.

“You still wanna talk?”

Her voice is small and uncertain. I’m almost afraid to respond in case I frighten her off.

“Sure.”

Hopefully that was OK. Short and to the point, but not like I’m forcing her into some big confession or anything. She’s nodding.

“Right…we can go to my place…if that’s…I mean…if you want to…”

“Your place sounds fine.”

She smiles. I think the decision to talk about it was a big step for her and she already looks relieved. I smile back at her and fire up the engine. The drive is silent. I don’t want to interrupt whatever she’s thinking about. And she looks deep in thought.

“Cordelia?”

She startled me just then.

“Uh huh?”

“Would you have…if I’d…I mean…would…”

“Would I have let you fuck me?”

Best to get these things out in the open. And she was obviously dying to ask.

“Uh…well…yeah…I guess that’s what I was gonna ask.”

Her eyes are firmly on her hands which are in her lap.

“Yeah, I would have.”

She looked up at that, her brow all crinkled up with confusion.

“You would?”

I nod.

“But…why?”

“I had to know Faith, one way or the other. I’m glad it went the way it did. But if you’d chosen to fuck me then and there it would have been the last contact I had with you…and I would need something to remind me of you.”

“So you’d have wanted to remember me like that? Fucking you against a brick wall?”

She sounds disgusted with herself as she says that. Probably because she knows that for a considerable number of people, that’s the only memory of her they have.

“Well, yeah. I’d have needed something to make me hate you. If you’d done that it might just have made me forget how safe I feel when you hold me or how I melt when I look in your eyes and I am sounding like a complete and utter sap and I will be shutting up now.”

Oh God, I can’t believe I let that mush out of my mouth. I stare straight ahead and hope she maybe didn’t hear what I said. I’m not used to these…feelings…being as strong as they are. They just erupt out of my mouth. I’m accustomed to saying what’s in my head. But it’s usually less…icky and more…bitchy. This is what I get for being incredibly forthright and truthful.

“I thought about it.”

Huh?

“Huh?” “I was gonna do it. I was gonna fuck you. Just to make you…to make you leave, get away from me, get yourself out of this…”

Her hands are in still in her lap and her head is down, studying a slight scar on one of them. She’s ashamed of what she’s saying.

“Everyone I ever cared about has left me…I…I guess I just wanted to spare myself the wait this time. But I couldn’t…I didn’t…I couldn’t do that to you. I don’t want you to leave…don’t want you to leave me.”

I turn into a side street and pull to a stop. I have to because I can’t see the road for tears. I look across at her. She’s still intent on her hands. I take a deep breath and blink to clear my eyes a bit. She misinterprets my reasons for stopping the car.

“I’m sorry…I’ll…I’ll go..”

“No!”

She turns back to look at me and I practically fling myself into her arms, resulting in a very, incredibly uncomfortable position where my lower body is gradually slipping down into the gap between the leather seats while my arms cling to her neck for dear life. She rectifies this by scooping my legs up and placing me on her lap where we proceed to hold each other for a very, very long time. Her arms are reassuring around me. Her scent fills me with relief. Her caress soothes my worries away. And her kisses…well, no words can do justice to one of her kisses.

We softly explore the familiar terrain of each other’s mouths, faces, bodies. This isn’t just lust. It’s not just heat and passion and need. It’s not just about sex. It’s something deeper. Oh God…it’s not…couldn’t be…am I in love with her? No way. I like the way her ass looks in those tight pants. I like the way she holds me against her, so tightly. I could look into her eyes forever and a day without getting bored. When she kisses me I could die happy right there and then. But that’s not love…right? Right? It’s…it’s…oh no…I’m in love with her. Oh shit.