beer_good_foamy | Fic: Best Laid Plans

Here's another one for

buffyversebingo, and the box on my card that says "Plan of action". This is a plotbunny I've had kicking around my head for a while, and I figured hey, it's silly and gratuitous and maybe that's what the world needs right now.

Title: Best Laid Plans
Author: Beer Good (

beer_good_foamy)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters/Pairing: Buffy/Faith
Warnings: Non-con, bondage, consensual roleplay, blatant epithet abuse
Rating: R
Word count: ~1250
Summary: Remember in "Enemies", when Faith and Angelus have Buffy chained to the wall and are promising to torture her? Well, this version goes a little differently...
Loosely inspired by Nautibitz's Baby Likes To Roleplay.

Everybody always asks, why can't you be more like Buffy? But did anyone ever ask if you could be more like me?
- Faith Lehane, "Enemies"

Best Laid Plans

The blonde Slayer opened her eyes. The room was dark, but candles set shadows dancing across the walls as she looked up at her captors and strained against the manacles that kept her chained to the wall.

"Bondage looks good on you, B..."

She ignored the other girl and shot Angel a pleading look, but he just stood there smirking enigmatically and she realised it was pointless. This wasn't Angel anymore, there would be no help from him. Then the dark-haired Slayer leaned into her line of sight with a wicked grin.

"...The outfit's all wrong, but hey."

No, she thought, not the ensemble! OK, so the sparkly Union Jack shirt was pretty lame, but she was Buffy, what else was she supposed to wear? It's not like she could walk around in tight leather pants all the time like some people she could mention, as good as it - no, focus, life or death situation here. "You don't know what you're doing," she snapped back. But the other girl obviously knew; she had a plan, and her poor blonde victim was completely at her mercy.

"Really? Weird. 'Cause something about all this just feels so right..." The dark Slayer seemed to hesitate, as if waiting for something, then went on. "OK. Maybe it's one of those 'unhappy childhood' things. See, when I was a kid I used to beg my mom for a dog. Didn't matter what kind. I just wanted, you know, something to love." She reached out and ran her hand along the cheek of her prisoner in what would have almost seemed a tender touch if it hadn't been for the razor-sharp knife she held in the same hand. "A dog's all I wanted. Well... that, and toys."

The blonde Slayer gulped as her captor pulled back the sheet and revealed what was on the table. She'd expected torture implements - knives, definitely, but probably a grab bag of all the five basic torture groups - but this was something else. She was sure that a prim and proper girl like herself wouldn't know what most of these things were, but they were definitely designed to either attach to or enter different parts of someone in ways that weren't just about pain, and was that a freakin' bull whip...? Her heart beat faster as she made a show of tugging at her chains and tried one last time to reason with the dark Slayer. "Faith, listen to me very closely. Angel's a killer. When he's done with me, he'll turn on you."

They both looked to Angel, who just stood there with that enigmatic smirk on his face. "Yeah?," the bad Slayer eventually answered. "I guess we'll just have to keep you around a while then." She picked up something from the table and walked back over to where the good Slayer hung helpless on the wall. "Before we get started, I just want you to know…" She leaned into her helpless victim's ear. "If you're a screamer, feel free."

The blonde Slayer gasped as she felt the cold steel of the knife nudge its way under her shirt and slowly make its way upwards, slicing the shirt open and inch by inch laying her skin bare to the cold night air, the tip of the knife drawing a tingling line all the way up her belly with just barely enough pressure to not break the skin. With a final little twist it cut through the collar of her shirt, drawing just a droplet of blood from her throat as her shirt fell away to both sides.

The dark Slayer caught the blood on the edge of the knife and licked it off in a way that made a chill run down her entire body. "Careful, B. Wouldn't want you to get hurt before we have our fun."

She responded by shooting her adversary the most righteous look she could and telling her, "You'll never get away with this!"

The other Slayer seemed to almost crack up at that, but quickly got herself back under control. She reached out with her left hand and grabbed her captive's breast, teasing the nipple with her thumb (which didn't at all make her gasp) while she let the knife trace patterns on her belly going downwards. "Seems like you're gonna let me get away with a lot more than this, little Miss Tightly Wound." She leaned forward and whispered in her ear as the knife expertly flicked away the top button of her jeans. "Resist all you want, but I can smell you getting wet from here - oh, crap, hang on." She quickly dropped the knife and reached up to grab their wigs, which had become entangled and were threatening to come off.

Now it was Faith's turn to crack up as she hung there on the wall while Buffy carefully tried to pull them apart. Once the blonde wig was once again safely secured on Faith's head, she tried to get back into character. "Oh, you naughty, evil dark Slayer, I'm the righteous Buffy Summers and you'll never have your wicked way with me, even with your cheap polyester wigs!" (OK, so she didn't try that hard.)

Buffy, who was just adjusting her own chestnut wig, snorted and doubled up with laughter. She accidentally knocked over the cardboard cutout of Angel, which fell on its back and lay smirking enigmatically at the ceiling. "Hey, do you know how much I had to spend on movie tickets for all the junior Slayers so we had this place to ourselves? Not to mention some of these, uh, what do you call this, anyway?" She held up a particularly funky-looking battery-operated rubber thing from the table.

Faith grinned. "Hey, you tell me, you're the one who read that damn Fifty Shades book and was all like ooh, let's try some roleplay, it'll be a good trust exercise or... whatever."

Buffy reached out and carressed Faith's cheek. "Sorry, I guess that makes this sound like teambuilding with extra kink, doesn't it? Maybe this wasn't a good plan, you wanna stop?"

"Stop? Fuck it, did you hear me use the safeword? You better not leave me hangin' here, B." Faith jangled her manacles to underscore the point.

Buffy smiled, gave Faith a quick kiss and readjusted her dark wig. She got the Angel standee (still smirking enigmatically, if slightly more dusty) back on his feet before turning back to her helpless victim with a cold grin. "Uh, hate to break it to ya, girlfriend, but you're not exactly in any position to tell me what I can and can't do."

Her blonde captive strained against the wall, defiantly thrusting her half-naked self out at the dark Slayer while trying to look as innocent as possible. "Only because you used black magic to turn Angel against me, you fiend! If you didn't have me chained up, you know there's no way you'd beat me. So do your worst, but you'll never get me to - aaah!" She hissed and pulled in earnest at her shackles as the dark Slayer held out a candle and let the wax drip down her sternum.

"That sounds like a chaallenge," the oh-so-evil dark Slayer purred in a not entirely convincing Boston accent. Her captive was about to say something about that when a hand snuck its way into her jeans and gave her something entirely different to think about. And if their wigs eventually came off, well, you can only keep up the pretense for so long.