
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/290133.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer
  Relationship:
      Faith/Buffy_Summers/Wesley_Wyndam-Pryce/Rupert_Giles, Faith/Buffy
      Summers, Faith/Wesley_Wyndam-Pryce, Rupert_Giles/Wesley_Wyndam-Pryce,
      Buffy_Summers/Rupert_Giles
  Character:
      Faith, Wesley_Wyndam-Pryce, Rupert_Giles, Buffy_Summers
  Additional Tags:
      Community:_buffyverse1000, Sexual_Fantasy, Cemetery, Watchers, 5_Things,
      Vampire_Slayers
  Collections:
      WesleyFanfiction.Net
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-07-26 Words: 1735
****** Fantasia ******
by wisdomeagle
Summary
     Four fantasies and a reality.
For Faith, it always starts and ends with Buffy.
She can't imagine it going down any other way, not when Buffy's still, well, B.
Not when she can still toss her curls at all three of them before walking the
fuck away, just leaving the library behind like she has no reason to be there.
The fuck. Her skirt fucking swishes. Buffy is a movie version of California,
and Faith sometimes wonders if Joyce really birthed her, or if she just made a
Xerox of a page in some magazine.
But then Buffy'll do something unexpected, will get all quiet when they're
walking and not want to talk about what Angel's like in bed or what Wes'd be
like if he actually unjammed the stick from his rear. Buffy'll give her this
look, an elaborate eye-rolling, lip-pouting thing, and Faith knows that no
Xerox machine, no mad cloning scientist like she ran into in Boston, could make
another Buffy. Which she's actually grateful for, in a sick way, because it
means that even if she can't have Buffy, at least no one else is getting at
her. The only Buffy in the world is right there by her side, hip slung up
against hers in battle-ready position.
She always starts with that: the two of them crouched in a graveyard, jonesing
for a kill, muscles loose, like they've been every night this week then bam.
Buffy pivots quickly and knocks her off-balance and she reaches up. Buffy grabs
her hands, and Faith darts one hand, quicker than even Buffy's instincts, so
that it's touching Buffy's breast. She can almost hear the little gasp of
surprise, imagines the round O of Buffy's mouth. She'd get one hand up her
shirt, find one of those tiny tits that have been taunting her, and with one
hand there and one on Buffy's ass, she'd make Buffy's mouth curl up, make her
gasp with want.
She's not sure how Wes or Giles get involved. Wes is always sneaking around
where he shouldn't be, patrolling their patrols like she hasn't been doing this
for months, like Buffy isn't a vet, tsking over their reaction times and
refractory periods. She'd show Wes a refractory period; she imagines doing him
up against a gravestone (and he'd like it, the fucking perv), sucking till he
came and then not stopping, making him whine and gasp and beg. She imagines
Buffy and Giles laughing in the background, Buffy's giggle muffled by Giles's
cock, Giles's laughter stopped in the middle by a moan. And Wesley would say,
"Please, God, Faith, just stop."
But she wouldn't, not till Buffy finished with Giles and came to her, her hips
swishing like she was in a skirt and not her slaying-only jeans, and pulled her
up from Wesley's long-spent dick and his quiet whimpers.
++
For Wesley, it always starts and ends with Faith.
It shouldn't. Of all the dangerous fantasies he's entertained, Faith is the
most ferocious, and thinking of her -- fantasizing about her -- will be a
difficult habit to break. He will break it. He will cuff his arms to the
headboard if he has to, to keep them away from his crotch. Mr. Giles would do
it. Giles wants to restrain him anyhow; it's quite obvious from the way he
rolls his eyes, the way he slouches as if to prove that even when he is untidy
and lax, he is still more potent than Wesley.
There's little he needs to add to imagine sex with Faith. She is already so
unconstrained, arms and legs flailing everywhere as he tries to train them,
mouth heavy with lipgloss and profanity as he comes at her with a lance. Buffy
is proficient with weapons and almost obedient in their training sessions, but
Faith is wild, would rather drop her lance and take her chances with fists and
feet. Most troubling, most arousing: she usually disarms him anyhow. Buffy will
slap her hand in congratulation, and Faith will say, with a mocking, pouting
laugh, "Is that how they trained you to do it at England U?"
In the fantasy she comes only one step further, and then she can touch him if
she juts her hips just so, if she leans in with her right side, if she stands
on tiptoe to kiss him. He tries to imagine her reaching up to him, but can't.
She'll force him down, or wrap her legs around his waist, claw his shoulders
with her hands, kiss him with -- she is just seventeen, ridiculously young.
Better to lust after Buffy, who would certainly know better than to respond,
who'd go running to Giles at the first sign of indiscretion. Buffy won't ride
the whirlwind with him and Giles wouldn't let her, but Faith will drag him to
her level and he will love her for it.
And he climaxes, another night. Tomorrow, he will break this habit.
++
For Giles, it always starts and ends with Wesley. With Wesley there, Buffy and
Faith have been transformed into Slayers. He always thought of them as girls,
but Wesley is capable of ignoring everything that is feminine about them. He
will flirt with Cordelia Chase of all people, but hardly looks up when Faith
enters the room, followed by a sweating, panting Buffy, fresh from training.
Giles watches Wesley deliberately not watching them, though, and he can almost
see the flaw in Wesley's pose. One good shag, and he would be a different man.
Giles has imagined this shag countless times. He'd force feed Wesley the band
candy -- but that would never work; teenaged Wesley is sure to have been as
prim and suffocated as adult -- and he uses the word advisedly -- Wesley. No,
better to use more traditional substances, to prime Wesley with Scotch before
turning him over on the central table, on his desk, on his bed, on his couch,
on the kitchen counter. Everywhere becomes a place to deflower the new Watcher.
He's almost frightened by the intensity of it, the quickness with which his
cock will harden when he imagines Wesley sucking it.
If Faith and Buffy watched, he thinks, almost idly, they'd see that he was
still -- and all the words that follow seem ridiculous. Dominant? Alpha? Their
true Watcher? Perhaps he only wants to screw the Council, and Wesley is their
nearest available representative. But the relationship among the four of them
is more personal than that, more intimate. Buffy and Faith are not just
spectators in this idle vision; they are oozing sweat as they watch; Buffy's
eyes are a tad bright. Faith will show her why, fingers inching up her thigh,
urging her legs apart. He must remember to blindfold Wesley first; if he looks
at the girls, he'll come too soon.
Giles is certain Wesley screams when he comes.
++
For Buffy, it always starts and ends with Giles.
Okay, so not always always. More like, since her birthday. Maybe, if she's
totally honest about this, a little before her birthday. Definitely since
before Wesley, though having two Watchers has definitely made things more -
- intense? Like Slaying is actually a profession, something you actually go to
Watcher School to learn about. She knew Giles had been, yeah, but that was
decades ago. Wesley's Watcherness is shiny and new. That charm school finish
hasn't worn off yet. Giles's style of Watching is more rugged. Rugged and manly
and gentle -- this is probably the line of thought that got her fantasizing
about Giles in the first place.
It was definitely before Wesley. Faith, maybe. Faith hasn't quite toppled off
the cliff yet, but she kind of pushed Buffy over the minute she set her
leather-booted foot in Sunnydale. Sunnydale with Faith is very much not the
same as it was without her. The nights are darker and the days brighter,
gleaming like polished leather, like sunlight on Faith's hair, reflecting
golden. Everything seems just a little bit more on edge. This is a world where
Giles, chaste, celibate, old-and-gross Giles slept with her mom. Faith coming
to town made Giles sexy. It's a total miracle.
Plus, Faith wants Giles. She talks about when they're on patrol, and that's not
helping Buffy's nighttimes at all. There's the usual post-Slayage high, plus
the added sweatiness that comes from chasing Faith's oddly attractive rear end
all around town, plus this new thing with Giles and then -- and then there's
Wesley. Faith thinks that if they just got Wesley alone for half an hour, out
of the suit and into a nice hot tub, he'd be a better lover than Giles.
But thinking about Giles as a lover, broad hands and warm legs and -- no way.
Faith can have Wesley -- and from the way Faith talks, probably will -- and
she'll take Giles, deep and slow, and never emerge from the goodness of it.
++
It starts and ends like this:
"It was good of you to come," Wesley says through gritted teeth. He doesn't
mean it.
Faith looks past him towards the lobby. "Nice digs," she says with a whistle.
"Send me away to blow up the hometown, and I come back to see this.
Impressive."
"Well." Wesley shuffles his feet. "Buffy. Giles. It's a pleasure to see you.
Wolfram and Hart will of course take care of --"
"Can we see Angel?" Buffy interrupts. "There's a busload of Slayers just
waiting to take a shower."
"I could use a shower myself," Faith says, swinging her arms and almost decking
Wesley. "Sorry."
"I don't think we'll be staying." Giles is focusing all his energy on glaring
at Wesley. "We have nobler places to be than this."
"I suppose you must."
"Sorry." Buffy doesn't look angry, just sad, as she stares past Wesley. No one
is looking at each other.
"This was a cheery reunion, huh? Nothing like having the old gang back together
again, right B?"
"It was good of you to stop by, in any event. I'll be thinking of you."
"We've survived this long without you sparing a thought for us."
"Giles." Buffy puts a hand on his arm, then jerks it away hurriedly. "Let's
just go. Faith, tell the others that we aren't staying after all."
"Thumbs up, B." But Faith doesn't go.
They continue to stare past each other for another minute, then laugh a little
bitterly, and, without any backward glances or awkward goodbyes, they begin to
go their separate ways.
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