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Summary
Faith’s itching to let her anger out. Bash someone’s face in. Vampire, demon, Angel, Buffy, literally whoever.
Actually, scratch that. She doesn’t want to bash B’s face in. As much as Faith’s fucking pissed at her, she likes that face too much. That face that, for the briefest window of time, looked at Faith with so much affection she started to wonder if maybe there was something going on there.
She wonders what would’ve happened if things had never gone sour. Sure, Buffy’s an uptight, prudish bitch with a shocking capacity for stupidity, but doesn’t it get to a point? How many times had Faith called her girlfriend? How many compliments had she given the girl? How many hours had they spent together?
And Faith just knows B went home from patrol every night hyper aware of what she had said the day they met. Hungry and horny. Did she feel it, the sensation of want, low in her stomach, created by the physical exertion? Did she justify it as hunger or did she face it head on?
Or: Faith's in a coma, and her mind wanders to predictable places.
Series
- Part 4 of En's On-Time Femslash Feb 2026 Bingo
- Part 1 of the chosen two, in every universe