Last Chance

Author: lucindas43302 <lucindasiverling[at]hotmail.com>

rating: pg13-16

main characters: Xander, Faith

warning: created in response to Quickfic July challenge. Darkfic, contains character death.

disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Xander, Faith or any other characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'.

distribution: Quickfics, I Need a Parrot, XanderZone, Paula, Cat - anyone else please ask first.

summary: Xander's attempt to 'get through' to Faith in season 3 goes very wrong.


'We have to try to get through to her' had been what Giles said. And it had made so much sense at the time. Get through to Faith, try to keep her from going to the dark side. And his mouth had opened, and words had come out… bad words. Words about how he and Faith had… well, they'd sort of had sex. Really great sex… at least, he'd thought so. He hadn't quite said it that way, but everyone except maybe Giles had known what had happened. The looks on Willow and Cordy's faces… He'd suddenly felt pretty miserable. As if he'd somehow screwed up on something important.

That was probably why he was on his way to find Faith. To try to get something right for once, since he'd already opened his mouth and made everyone except for Deadboy mad at him. He'd probably get annoyed when he found out, mostly because they'd never liked each other. But he was on his way to try to talk to Faith, to try to 'bring her back to the light' or something.

And why exactly was she walking into Angel's mansion anyhow? Had she joined the flock of people who thought that the vampire was the best looking corpse they'd ever seen? Not that most of them knew about the corpse part, no they just said 'oh, nice body' and.. ack, this was not the sort of thinking that he needed. Focus… Faith going into the mansion. Maybe he should see what she was doing, because if she was thinking about having her way with Angel… that way was soul loss and violence and general badness.

Xander walked into the mansion, part of him thinking this was one of the less intelligent things that he'd done. "Hey… Faith?"

"Xander…" She looked at him, her lips painted this dark almost red that matched her itty bitty tank top that he was almost positive had nothing under it. Black leather pants hugged her legs, and only barely reached over her hips. Oh god, to be those pants… "Didn't expect to see you here."

He shrugged, finding it suddenly harder to focus on talking. All sorts of images were crowding out the words, memories of that night, images of touching her… "Can we talk?"

"Why not? Follow me." She turned, walking with this sway to her hips, and oh god, he'd follow her anywhere just for the view.

They ended up in a smallish side room with a couple chairs and a leather couch. Xander sat on the couch while Faith remained standing, sort of meandering along the wall, her hand trailing over the wall following a tiny crack in the plaster. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Faith… you can't keep pretending that nothing happened." Xander wished there was a better way to do this, some sort of guide. 'How to talk to super strong women who kill' or something.

"Happened? Exactly what are you taking about? You and me? Because we aren't dating or any of that mushy stuff… we all know that's not the kind of girl people see when they look at me." Her words were sharp, carrying anger and pain.

Part of him wanted to protest, to explain that he meant the now dead man. That he'd come to try to help her. But he could never shut up when he should, and entirely different words spilled out. "Why not? It's not like there's anything wrong with you."

Before he could even finish telling himself that that wasn't the point, she was by the couch, straddling him, her hands pinning his shoulders to the couch as her hips ground down over his. Oh god oh god… Xander wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a very bad thing. "Someone like me isn't considered one of the good girls. Not ever. Of course, since I got this whole Calling gig, I got a few more options available, you know?"

"ahhhh…" The feeling of her legs wrapped around him, her body pressed so firmly against him almost like she'd been on that night… Parts of him wanted to lay back and purr, other parts wanted to sit up and beg. "Never really thought about it."

She leaned closer, her shirt gaping just a bit, revealing that there was nothing under it. Her breath was warm against his face as she whispered. "How much are you thinking now?"

"Mostly pictures." The words just leapt from his mouth before he could even think to shut up.

Her hands began moving in slow circles over his shoulders and chest, her legs squeezing almost painfully tight around him. She pressed down against him, the pressure just the pleasurable side of too much. "Didn't think you would be. I can tell what's doing your thinking right now. Right here…"

"ggggnnnn…. Faith…." He wasn't sure if he wanted to ask her to stop or to remove a few of the pesky clothes that separated them. This wasn't how he'd thought this would go.

Her hands moved up, settling at his neck, and he could feel each of her nails touching his skin. She leaned down, her whole body pressed against his. He was half afraid that he'd melt, or catch fire or something… more embarrassing. "No more."

Then, her hands squeezed on his throat, and it hurt. He tried to gasp for air, grabbed her wrist to try to pull them away, but she was too strong. Slayer strength. She was still pressed so close to him, and oh god, he couldn't breath and everything was getting dim…

"Faith! What are you doing!" Angel's angry shout sounded almost distant.

Fuzzily, Xander wondered why everything sounded funny. There was this rushing in his ears, a terribly loud thumping, and he couldn't see anything but darkness with sparks of light… why did he see stars? Was that Orion? But he could still feel Faith's hands at his throat, his lungs were burning, she was still pressed against his hips…

This was bad.

"Nothing that you need to worry over, Fang."

Her voice sounded so far away… why was her voice so distant? He couldn't breath, he needed to breath, needed air… His hands tugged futilely at her wrists before he felt himself falling into soothing darkness…

Oh, damn. His last thought was that he'd failed yet again.