Author: Holly (email@example.com)
Rating: NC-17 (For language and sexual content)
Timeline: BtVS S.3, post-Consequences
Summary: A late night at the library provides more than its fair share of surprises.
WARNING: This story depicts a sexual encounter between an adult male and an underage female. Please proceed with caution.
Disclaimer: The characters herein are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. They are being used out of love and respect, and not for the sake of profit. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s Note: Thanks to megan_peta and spikeslovebite for betaing and helping me find the confidence to post this. This is the first ever rare-pairing fic I’ve ever done. I don’t like it very much…mainly because it pushed my comfort zone. However, seeing as it did make me uncomfortable, I’m oddly proud that I was able to finish it.
I think, though, with the exception of the occasional Wes/Faith and Wes/Fred writing bug, I’ll stick to my Spuffy from now on.
Honestly, when he was this tired, there was little point in trying to get anything done. It reminded him somewhat of his days back at the academy; attempting to commit as much useless information to memory as possible before exams began. He saw words printed on a page but nothing snagged him. Nothing latched onto his memory. He knew he wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow. He knew he would return to these very books first thing in the morning to refresh his tired mind on all the details he had blinked over.
Giles sighed, feeling quite weary. Perhaps he’d been too hasty in sending Wesley away. The man’s incessant pattering aside, the young wanker was apt in making absolute certain it never grew quiet enough to fall asleep sitting up.
He’d been awake so long he didn’t remember what the bugger he’d been researching in the first place. Hours ago it had seemed imperative to lose himself in his reading. Perhaps he’d been hoping for a distraction.
Giles snorted ineloquently. Well, if that had been the case, he’d certainly count this night a success.
The swing of the library doors was a mixed blessing. It could either indicate bad news of the apocalyptic variety or provide a much-needed reprieve from the night’s tedium. Giles glanced up wearily, a small shock running through his body. He hadn’t expected Faith to waltz freely into the library anytime soon, especially following Wesley’s disastrous attempt to apprehend her last week. The tension wrought between the darker slayer and Giles’s surrogate daughter was so thick it was a wonder he didn’t choke. Faith was a ticking time bomb—a blind man could see it. And it was never a good thing when a time bomb was thrust into an open room.
Giles preferred to be as far away from bombs as possible.
It amazed him how confident she looked; how bloody carefree. Her hands were red with the murder of an innocent man, and accident or not, he would have expected it to weigh at least somewhat on her conscience. The attempt at a confrontation had been blundered quite horribly, and according to Buffy, Angel had been as close as Giles wagered they would ever get at reaching the scared girl inside the hardened shell. Were it not for Wesley’s blunder, perhaps Giles wouldn’t be sitting at his desk at three in the morning, researching god-knows-what to prepare for the inevitable fight.
Every year around this time, the air became heavy with foreboding. Something big was on the rise—something potentially disastrous. And having a latently unhinged slayer to deal with didn’t rest well with Giles. He had enough trouble dealing with Buffy; dealing with Faith—with whom he shared no personal relationship and could not relate with on a paternal level—was something he didn’t want to consider.
Giles sighed heavily and rose to his feet, placing the book he’d been pretending to read on his desk. If Faith was here this late—alone—it could potentially mean trouble. Better to see what she wanted, or what she was up to.
Though upon crossing the threshold from his private office and into the main library, he immediately wished he’d remained seated. There were just some things a man of his age wasn’t prepared to see at this hour.
Namely, Faith standing in the middle of the room with her back to him.
Her very naked back.
Giles’s brow furrowed, his glasses falling into the waiting hem of his slightly wrinkled dress-shirt as though magnetized. Perhaps he was better served to just turn around and sink back into his office. She needn’t ever know he was here.
His throat, however, had a different opinion. His throat was very accustomed to clearing in a strict, no-nonsense fashion when something completely absurd was happening before him. It was a derisive sound typically reserved for Xander and the terribly unfunny antics the boy managed to wheedle himself into at every turn. Occasionally, he used it with Buffy when she went on one of her oh so American and teenage tangents. Never had he used it with Faith.
And after tonight, he suspected he would never use it again.
Faith paused but didn’t tense the second he made his presence known. Her arms were bent at an angle that told him she’d been preparing to strip her ridiculously tight jeans down her legs, and he hoped to whatever deity watched over this miserable earth that she display a little restraint and modesty now that she knew she wasn’t alone.
As it was, restraint and modesty were two words which had never touched Faith’s vocabulary.
“Should’ve known you’d be here, Jeeves,” she drawled as she kicked off her shoes, her tone unimpressed. “Been lurkin’ long?”
“What are you doing here, Faith?”
“What does it look like?” she fired back, shrugging a little and resuming her disrobing. Giles released a small cry of alarm but it didn’t faze her; the next thing he knew, he was staring at a black thong and the dark, hypnotic artwork of the tattoo etched just above her arse. “And I suppose I could ask you the same thing? Don’t you ever go home?”
“The school is closed.” For some reason, it seemed a perfectly rational observation.
Faith snickered and pulled her hair back. “No kidding.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“You’re the Watcher. This is Slayer Central. And the last time I checked, I got the sacred duty thing pinned.” Faith whirled around before he could protest—not that he thought she’d listen, but a good protest never hurt anyone. Suddenly he was faced with the dilemma of where to look. Nowhere seemed safe.
“Could you please put some clothes on?” Giles asked miserably.
Faith cocked a brow. “What? This bother you?” she replied, her voice painted with incredulity. And then, to his utter horror, she slid her hands up her body until she had a breast cradled in each palm. His disobedient eyes followed the trek before darting away scandalously, but the damage was done.
Oh good Lord.
“Just the human body, Rupert,” Faith continued mockingly. “Nothing different about mine ‘cept it’s better than most. Don’cha think?”
“Please have a little decency—”
“Decency?” The word rode out on a chuckle. She stepped forward, the fingers attached to her right hand pinching her nipple for his benefit. “Look who’s staring.”
Irritation shoved embarrassment aside. He was not about to be scolded for being a prude in his own library when she was nude and seemingly content to remain that way. “It’s bloody hard—”
She smirked and licked her lips appreciatively, her eyes trailing downward. “I’ll just bet it is.”
“I always wondered who figured a bunch of mid-life-crisis prone stiffs should be in charge of nubile hotties.” She paused, worrying a lip between her teeth in a move which almost made her appear innocent. “Seems like a ripe set-up.”
The implication sent a wave of revulsion through his body. “Faith, please get dressed. I—”
“I didn’t get the kill tonight, Giles.”
The word kill lent him clarity. Kill from Faith’s mouth was especially lethal.
“I beg your—”
“Demon. Standard. Wasted a bunch of his friends, no joke, but didn’t get the head honcho.” She stretched her arms above her head, a move which made her breasts thrust out. As though they needed any help. “Thought I’d come here and make good with the running water before headin’ out to work off all this…tension.” Faith quirked a brow. “Though on second thought…are you good for it?”
It took a full minute to comprehend what she was saying. And even then, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “What?”
“Oh come on, daddy.” Faith took a step forward. Her bare feet made no sound crossing the floor. “Don’t you wanna touch?”
There were few times in his experience when Giles could actually claim to be stunned speechless. This was one of them. Logic scrambled against a thousand warring thoughts, each more ridiculous than the last. He needed to get away from here, now. He needed to hole himself inside the office and hope she left him alone. He needed—
To not be aroused. Giles started in astonishment and glanced down. The tent of his trousers was not at all conspicuous. Everything that had happened up until this point had been so absurd that he’d barely registered the stirring in his gut or the way his cock didn’t seem to find Faith’s nudity as offensive as his brain did. His breaths suddenly crashing against his chest, Giles shook his head rapidly and began to backtrack, determined to get away from her before the situation got even more out of hand.
Faith had other ideas, and moved at three times his speed. Before he could register what was happening, she was pressed up against him, her red lips curled into a devious grin as they nipped at his mouth. “Oooh,” she purred, her right hand abandoning her breast to dive between them. “Someone’s hard.”
Giles’s feet remained glued to the ground even as his legs wobbled. “Faith, please—”
“You have no idea how much you’re gonna be sayin’ that tonight.” She winked and squeezed his erection. “Or, to be more to the point, begging.”
“This is inappropriate—”
“Half the fun.” Half a blink later, she’d wound her fingers through his hair and tugged his head down to one of her full breasts, her hard nipple rubbing the crack of his pursed lips. The room spun hard around him. “Come on. Just a little nibble?”
Bad idea to speak. Her breast took that as an open invitation, and suddenly her flesh was inside his mouth. His mouth, which had not tasted a woman’s breast in what felt like centuries. Thus the waves from his brain never quite reached their goal, and he found himself suckling at her like a newborn babe before he could stop himself.
“Ohhh yeah,” Faith gasped, thrusting her pelvis against him. “That’s it, sugar daddy.”
He made a half-sound of protest, his hands seemingly helpless to stop her as she reached again between them to undo his trouser-fly.
And suddenly a light clicked on and everything became all too real.
Giles jerked away with a gasp, his eyes trying and failing not to land on the breast he’d nursed; wet from his mouth, her nipple hard and begging him for further attention. “No,” he all but growled. Not that it did him any good. Faith was walking him backward, sexual intent written across her face. “No, dammit, I refuse to—”
“Refuse all you want, but it’s this head I’m listening to.” She winked at him just before her hand encircled his bare cock, her thumb brushing the sensitive tip. “Never had an old guy before. But you’re not too old, are you, Giles?”
A half-gasp, half moan tore through his throat and his mind again blanked. God, he hadn’t thought she’d made it that far. He hadn’t even heard his zipper descend. “T-too old for—”
“Whatever.” She laughed and shoved him hard, sending him back into the chair where he’d vigil sat for hours. “Stay like a good boy.”
Giles found himself obeying her with absolutely no mind as to why. Rationally, he knew it was within his power to bolt upright and take a decent stand. He’d always considered himself an authoritative figure. If he spoke clearly enough, angrily enough, perhaps she would reconsider. Perhaps she would realize what she was doing and with whom. Perhaps she would stop.
And while these were all good thoughts in theory, his stubborn feet refused to budge.
Good God, man, she’s just a teenager…
The thought, which he would’ve assumed would snap his body out of its trance, only made his cock harder.
When he realized his reaction, shame festered and spilled over.
I’m a monster.
“Oh, you are a good boy,” Faith cooed appraisingly. And before he knew what was happening, the circulation in his left wrist was suddenly immeasurably tight. Giles blinked dazedly and glanced down, returning to himself. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed her rifling through his drawer, but she’d evidently discovered two long strands of wire.
Wire. Did he keep wire in his desk? Evidently so, for there they were.
And wrapped around his wrist. The left. Then the right.
“I tie a killer knot,” Faith assured him with a wink. “Then, you probably knew that, didn’t you?”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Please stop. I’ll give—”
She tsked and shook her head, her dark eyes sparkling. “What’d I say? I’m not listening to your mouth, Giles. God, who the fuck could?” She suddenly had his cock in her hand again, and despite the harshness spilling from her lips, there was an almost mocking sense of gentility in the way she ran the length of his shaft and back again. “All goosed up and nowhere to go.”
“You like that?”
Words abandoned him completely, giving way to his unspoken baser urges. Good Lord, it had been so long. So long since a woman had touched him. His mind was at an impossible standstill—the truth that it was Faith behind the almost sensual caresses stirred something dark and sinister in his gut. Something he felt regularly—something he couldn’t help but feel, given the nature of his reckless past—but he always did his level best to head off his shadowy side. The side of him which wasn’t at all the rational, respectable librarian-slash-watcher; the side of him which was thoroughly Ripper.
The ghost from his past. The perpetual demon on his shoulder. Ripper would have loved Faith. Ripper would certainly express no restraint, and second-thoughts would be nonexistent.
For the first time in years, he felt Ripper overpower the watcher.
Giles ceased to be.
Ripper wasn’t as shy as Giles; not as reserved. He wasn’t about to hide his appreciative looks or swell with shame at how hard the girl made him. Instead, his eyes roamed her uninhibited, taking in the fullness of her breasts and the lean firmness of her muscular-but-all-woman body. He wanted to taste her nipples again. Wanted to pinch them and roll them between his fingertips as his rubbed his cock against her cleft, soaking his length with her juices before ramming himself home.
There was a cross tattoo on Faith’s shaven pussy. It was so ironic he couldn’t help but grin.
“What’re you grinnin’ at, sailor?”
Faith blinked dumbly before apprehension dawned and she glanced down, running her index finger over her inked flesh. “You like?” she all but purred. “You wanna closer look?”
A flash of edgy reason spurned within him, but before he could even think to offer an objection, Faith was on her feet. He frowned, puzzled and begrudgingly bereft, but the distance only lasted a second. She raised her arms above her head, allowing him a painfully good view of her in all naked glory, then flipped forward.
There wasn’t enough room for a flip, of course. It seemed she was banking on as much. Faith slammed into him at an angle which seemed impossible, but was locked together with such synchronicity that it had him wondering for the first time if he had possibly fallen asleep and was having the most lurid dream imaginable.
Even that seemed unlikely. His lurid dreams were never this lurid.
“See it now?”
Giles gasped loudly, the soft-but-firm flesh of her inner thighs capturing his cheeks. Her hands gripped his wrists, her knees hooking over the back of the chair and her head somewhere in the vicinity of his cock. He felt whispers of her hair brushing his sensitive skin like hints of a waterfall, though admittedly, her acrobatics only held his attention for a second.
“Lick me up,” she demanded, clenching her thighs around his face.
Ripper roared in victory and shoved the librarian aside. His tongue darted out to taste the cool dew wetting her pussy lips. And when she moaned, the wall separating Faith’s two personas collapsed. All at once she was no longer the Slayer—she was a woman. A warm, wet, willing woman who was grinding her pussy against his mouth.
She tasted like bourbon. Rich, overpowering, intoxicating. He moaned in agreement and plunged his tongue deep inside her, at once determined to reach parts of her that no man ever had or ever would. This girl might have left a trail of lovers in her past, but he’d stake his life on the bet that she’d never truly experienced more than a few sordid sticky fumblings with boys who never learned how to please a woman and hadn’t cared enough to try.
Faith was a girl who expertly knew the backseat of a car. He doubted her range of experience was more than that.
Ripper was determined to give her something to remember. He might not have the youth her other lovers had, but he had more than his share of knowledge. He could make her scream for him if it was what he desired. And as his tongue dipped in and out of her pussy, he found there was nothing he wanted more.
“Oh, fuck yes!” Faith cried, squirming against him, her mouth nipping at his cock with something others might call affection. “That’s right, Rupert. Eat me up.”
He murmured something even he didn’t catch and drove his tongue deeper inside her. He wished his fingers were free. He could manipulate her clit and have her coming hard in seconds.
Giles grunted. He wanted to taunt her but words abandoned him. Instead, his tongue slipped out of her pussy and trailed up her slit until he was sucking her clit hard.
Faith came easily. He was surprised how easily. The throaty scream she released into the still air around them made the entire event seem even more illicit. More illicit, even, than the juices smeared across his lips and the taste of her in his throat. Giles panted hard, a shrill deafening his ears. In the cool after-effects of her orgasm, the immediacy of realization sank in.
Ripper retreated. The librarian was all that remained.
And the librarian was horrified.
“Oh my God,” Giles said, shaking hard, revulsion curling in his stomach. Faith’s overly satisfied body pooled to the ground at his feet as though she was composed of water. “My God…”
“Mmmm…isn’t that my line?”
“Faith…let me up.”
She crawled to her feet slowly, her vicious eyes settling again on his cock. “Oh, daddy. I think you’re up enough.”
“Please, I don’t want—”
“Don’t want a good fucking?” Faith winked and leapt onto his lap, the slippery flesh of her pussy nudging his length with temptation that had his inner rebel clawing again for release. She positioned herself above him, dipped her head and teased his lips with her teeth, and sank down.
Giles felt he was sinking and fast. He barely recognized himself. In seconds, she was moving above him, bouncing on his lap, navigating his length to stab her insides where she wanted him. She pulled back as much as gravity permitted, not allowing him the intimacy of a touch. Not allowing him much more than the sight of her sweat-laced breasts bouncing in front of his eyes and her tattooed pussy swallowing him with every thrust. His hips battled hers as well as they could, but it wasn’t enough. Ripper had shown his face and fled once the match was sparked. Now Giles was all that was left, and Giles was a man who craved intimacy.
Intimacy was something outside Faith’s wiring. She cooed and moaned and whispered things that would make the devil blush. The smack of her flesh against his—her naked feminine form moving against his mostly clothed body as she took as much of him as she could. And when she spasmed and drenched his cock with her juices, there was little more to do than follow suit.
Thankfully, Faith had the foresight to slide off his cock before he came. She eagerly sank to the ground and consumed him with her lips, inviting his semen into her throat with a purr of contentment.
He didn’t know how much time passed between coming and the intrusion of Faith’s voice. Hours might have flown by and he wouldn’t have cared. He wouldn’t care much if the world blinked away. He was left in the aftermath with nothing more than a satisfied cock and a burdened conscience.
Good Lord. How was he supposed to look himself in the mirror after this? How was he supposed to—
“Hey Jeeves. I gotta roll. Thanks a mil for the wild ride. Promise I won’t forget it.”
Giles blinked dumbly and glanced down. He was still tied to a chair with his cock hanging out. Surely she didn’t mean to just leave him like this…
Panic speared his veins. “Faith, you can’t just—”
But she could. And she did. His words were severed by the definitive swing of the library doors. He knew without having to know anything that he was alone.
Alone and tied to a chair with his bits dangling for all the world to see.
Perhaps there were worse things to contend with than a guilty conscience.
Wesley stood slack-jawed in the threshold of the librarian’s office, his blinking eyes unwilling to convince his brain that he wasn’t hallucinating.
“What…my good God…”
Giles merely glared, his body jerking violently against his restraints. The movement made Wesley all the more aware of his state of undress; he yelped defensively, his hands springing upward to shield his eyes.
“Giles,” he stammered behind his fingers, “What on earth? I—”
“Don’t just stand there gawking like a prat! Untie me!”
Untie him. Yes. Giles most definitely needed to be untied. Wesley drew in a breath and nodded absently, incredulity numbing his veins. He stepped forward.
“Oh. And Wesley?”
He winced and glanced up.
“Not. A. Word. To. Anyone.”