TITLE: From Heaven Above to Earth I Come
AUTHORS: Eurydice & Pepperlandgirl
SETTING: 6 months post-NFA
DISCLAIMER: Not ours, which is a shame because usually we're nicer to them than Joss was.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This installment concludes the Wes/Faith half of our Christmas tale, but the 'verse is continuing in the next installment with Spike/Buffy, Night Divine.
The story starts here.
Faith’s eyes lit up as he handed her the brightly wrapped box that bore her name, and Wesley couldn’t help but wonder about the last time she received a gift. Who had given it to her? How long ago was it? Was it for Christmas? Her birthday? Something else? He didn’t pay any attention to his own package—her gift and her reaction seemed far more interesting.
“You open yours first,” he encouraged.
Faith didn’t need to be told twice. Her nimble fingers tore at the scarlet bow, tossing it aside before ripping away the paper. She ignored the taped seams to tear wherever she found weakness, leaving it in shreds as she lifted out the flat white box. When she lifted the lid, though, her enthusiasm froze in a perplexed frown.
“You sure this one’s mine?” she asked.
Wesley’s confusion matched her own. He could tell at a glance that the slim book resting in the white box was something very rare, and very valuable. The sort of gift he would have been ecstatic to receive. He picked through the scraps of paper on the floor until he found the piece that had Faith’s name on it. Still, there could have been a mix-up. The Powers weren’t always perfect, after all.
“Is there an inscription or anything inside?”
Taking it out, Faith opened the text and turned the tissue-thin pages until she reached the title page. Then she stopped, and her lips moved silently as she read what had been written.
“I guess it really is mine,” she murmured. She closed the book with far more care than she opened it with and tucked it back into the box, her fingertips lingering for a moment on the etched cover. “Your turn.”
Wesley’s gift wasn’t much larger than hers, though it was a bit heavier. He carefully freed the edges, leaving the paper entirely intact as he slid the box out. He lifted the top off to reveal a very shiny, very ornate, very sharp knife.
Wes lifted it carefully and turned it in the light. He was about to voice his own doubt, but he noticed a small engraving at the base of the blade. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.
Faith whistled under her breath. “Now, that’s a gift,” she murmured.
“It’s very nice,” Wesley said, testing the edge with his thumb. “Though I think it’d better serve a person who does a good deal of hand to hand combat.”
She watched him, a curious glint in her eyes. “And you don’t think you’ll be heading back to the trenches?”
“What? Oh. Yes, I expected as much. But I tend to prefer long-range weapons.” He gripped the handle. It felt like it had been made specifically to fit his hand.
“If you’re thinking you need a refresher...I could help with that. My blade work has always been my best…” Her voice trailed off. It took a moment for Wes to realize why.
Wesley didn’t want her to get lost in a past that didn’t have any bearing on their future. He slid over to sit beside her and handed her the knife, handle first. “You know what this probably means, don’t you? I doubt the Powers would have given me such a fine gift if they didn’t expect me to use it.”
Her mouth slanted into a smile as she manipulated the weapon with finesse. Though it felt like it had been an eternity since he’d last seen her handle one, Wes thought she was probably right about her blade work. She held it like it was a part of her.
“We’ll have to do a patrol when we get back to London,” she said. “Put this bad baby to work.”
“Excellent idea,” Wesley agreed. It would be great to see her slay again, and he wouldn’t mind jumping back into the fray. But he was still caught up on the oddness of the gifts. Why give him the weapon and her the book? If it wasn’t a mistake, then it definitely wasn’t random. Whoever had orchestrated this thing had made a deliberate choice. She would have the most use for such a weapon, but of course, he would let her use it whenever she liked. Maybe that was the key. “Faith…what do you think is going to happen when we get back to the real world?”
She was still appreciating the knife. “I thought we already said. B tried giving me some shit about demons taking the holidays off to get me to Merry Olde, but I’ll bet we find plenty to take apart if we try.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure there will be plenty of demons. I meant, after the slaying. After the holidays, even. I’m assuming you’ll be returning to the States?”
His direct question finally tore her attention back to Wesley. “I figured I’d go wherever Giles sends me,” Faith said. “That’s what I do. Have Slayer, will travel.”
That actually didn’t sound like a bad plan. He imagined she got the chance to see a great deal of the world. “Faith, I need to know if you would like me to join you. And, if I do come with you, would you be willing to work with me?”
“You don’t come and I don’t get to play with this wicked knife.” But not even Faith was deferred by the glib remark, and her countenance grew solemn as she seemed to give his questions the proper weight. “I’ve been on my own since me and Robin split up,” she said. “And what you said before…hey, I’m the first gal to admit people say just about anything when they’re in the sack.” Her eyes were luminous as she looked up again. “I wasn’t going to hold you to it, as good as it sounded. But…when you say with, are you looking to be my Watcher again? Because I can’t go back to that.”
“No. That didn’t work out too well for either one of us, did it? I was thinking of something a bit more even. More like partners. Faith, I want to help you. I want to do anything I can. But that means you have to be willing to let me help you.”
“How do you mean? We did okay when we went after Angelus. Mostly.”
“We did,” Wesley agreed. “But that was a very special situation, wasn’t it? You’re very independent, Faith, and you’re accustomed to being on your own. I think the only way we’re going to be able to work together is if we’re both willing to give a little ground. That means not shutting me out. It means not disappearing without prior warning. I mean I want us to be a team.”
He could see the argument already forming. Wes couldn’t say it was unexpected, but it was slightly disappointing. He had hoped they were beyond that, that everything that had transpired might have made his suggestions easier for her.
But then Faith closed her mouth. Her gaze strayed to the book she’d set aside, and with fingers that surprised him by shaking, she picked it up, flipped it open, and held it out for him to take.
Wes glanced down at the inscription on the page. The words were simple, the writing clear.
To Faith. We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future.
“Sounds like teamwork to me,” she murmured. “So yeah. You and me together, partners…that’s what I want.”
“Good.” Wesley kissed her softly, brushing his lips over hers. “Good. That’s exactly what I hoped to hear.” He reached around and grabbed the third and final box. “This one is addressed to both of us. Do you want to open it?”
“In a sec.” Before he had the chance to argue, Faith was in his lap, her arms wrapped around him, her mouth insistent and hot where it sought his out. Her good humor was reflected in her eyes again, and she radiated warmth that he felt all the way to his bones. “Just so we’re clear. Partners isn’t platonic, right? Because that would just be fucking mean at this point.”
Wesley gripped her hips, holding her close against him. “Well, you bring up an interesting question. There might be a conflict of interest if we weren’t platonic. Complications. The occasional lover’s quarrel. On the other hand,” he yanked on the belt holding her robe shut, “platonic would be mean. And a lot less fun.” He circled her nipple with his tongue before dragging his mouth up her body to find her lips once again.
The return of his kiss left both of them breathless. “You think not fucking means we won’t still fight?” Her husky chuckle went straight to his cock. “But think of it this way. You get frustrated because you think I’m being stubborn or dumb or something, and you can just toss me against the nearest wall and shut me up in the most fun way possible.”
Wesley took her chin gently. “Faith, I have thought many, many things about you, but I’ve never thought you were dumb.” He nipped playfully at her bottom lip. “But I would like to hear more about tossing you against the nearest wall.”
“You want to hear about it?” Her hand smoothed down his back, curving around his hip to slip beneath his robe and curl around his semi-hard cock. “Or you want to do something about it?”
Wesley gently pushed her off his lap and stood. She looked up at him with surprise. That surprise turned to a smile as he took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. Faith leaned forward to kiss him, but just before their lips touched, he pushed her against the wall and pressed his body against hers. “Something like this?”
She looped her arms over his shoulders. “Or like this,” she taunted. In the next breath, her feet were off the floor, hooking behind his hips, and the tip of his cock was nudging against her soft folds. Faith grinned. “Slayer strength’s not just for slaying any more, you know.”
“Clearly,” Wesley muttered, bracing himself against the wall with one hand. Their gifts, the unwrapped present that still remained, and their conversation slipped from his mind completely. Everything was entirely focused on her. Her gasp echoed his as he pushed into her, and her legs tightened around him.
“Like this position.” Her hands seemed to be everywhere at once, small and deadly in strokes and pressure. Nails across his bare back, a fingertip encircling a nipple, palms strong and sure as they kneaded tense muscles. “Lets me do all sorts of naughty things.”
Wesley hissed. “Yes. Yes, I like this position, too.” Every time she dragged her nails over his skin, he shivered, but when she bent her head to scrape her teeth over his shoulder, he shuddered. He didn’t hold anything back as he pushed into her, and each thrust forward slammed her harder against the wall. His skin burned everywhere she touched him, each touch from her hands and mouth sending a jolt down his spine to his cock.
Sweat slicked their bodies, easing the friction of skin against skin. The teeth she’d savaged his shoulder with raked a path up the side of his neck, tasting sinew and salt along the way, until she reached the soft flesh of his ear.
“Next time…” The tip of her tongue traced the curve of cartilage, and she made him groan when she bit into the lobe. “…I want you buried in my ass. I want you to pound into me so hard, Wes, that we’re both fucked when we come.”
“Faith, god,” Wesley gasped, his groin tightening at her words, the hair on his neck and arms standing as a fresh chill went through his body. He managed to keep himself under control, but just barely. One more word like that, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from going over the edge. “Anything you want.”
“You,” she murmured. Her internal muscles contracted around his cock, and small tremors made her vibrate against his flesh. Wes suspected she was just as close as he was. “That’s what I want. Just you.”
The window frame rattled as he pushed forward once more. He held her against the wall as the orgasm tore through him, leaving his muscles watery and his cock jerking against her tight flesh. She gasped, clenching around him, and the sudden pressure sapped what was left of his strength. He didn’t think he could come a second time, but she definitely left him light-headed and shaking as she rode out her own climax.
Faith peppered soft kisses where she’d bitten him while her body slowed and relaxed. Her breath flowed over his skin, quick and shallow, and the hands that had been so lethal during the act now massaged aches he hadn’t realized he had.
“I’m not sure my legs are going to work right now,” she admitted with a light laugh.
“I think I better sit down,” Wesley muttered, wrapping both arms around her, “before I fall down.” He backed up to the sofa and collapsed on the cushions without releasing her.
“Do we need to take another nap?” Faith teased.
“No, no, just give me a minute here.” He brushed the hair out of her flushed face and smiled. She was beautiful, of course, but he had rarely seen her more stunning. He quietly threw up a quick prayer of thanks to the Powers--thank you for this chance. Thank you.
He might have been lost for long minutes, simply staring at her, except she shivered, her skin breaking out into goose bumps beneath his palms. He turned, lowering her to the couch, and reached for their abandoned robes. She sat up to pull hers on, and he couldn’t help but steal one last quick glance at her perfect breasts before the robe was cinched tight. Wesley dropped a quick kiss on her forehead before reaching for the final present.
“Let’s open it together,” Faith suggested, wiggling onto his lap as he sat back down.
Wesley kissed her hair, inhaling deeply. She smelled like the tree and the fire and sugar and sex. “Okay.” They tore at the wrapping together, exposing yet another white box, though this one was more of a perfect square. “Definitely not a book in here.”
“No,” Faith agreed, pushing the top of the box off with her thumbs.
Something purple and round was nestled in white tissue paper. Faith wrapped her fingers around it before he could get a good look at it, and everything went momentarily white and fuzzy, like smoke was pouring out of the fireplace.
Before he even finished speaking, the smoke cleared, and they were in a very unfamiliar room. With a very familiar pair of eyes trained on them. Several awkward seconds passed before Wesley spoke.
(or to be continued in Night Divine, if you choose to look at it that way...)