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No Slayer of Mine

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This story is No. 3 in the series "All Things Faith/Giles". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: (Non-Crossover) Perhaps Giles understands Faith and her motivations a little better than he thinks.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > Romance > Faith/Giles(Past Donor)VesicaFR211816021,19822 Jan 0722 Jan 07Yes

NOTE: This story is rated FR21 which is above your chosen filter level. You can set your preferred maximum rating using the drop-down list in the top right corner of every page.

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Fandom, Pairing & Prompt: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Giles/Faith, Mine
Word Count: 763
Disclaimer: Just a bit of mucking about in other people’s sandboxes. I don’t own them.
Author’s Notes: Written for The Porn Battle (Best of Three). For those following my ongoing Faith/Giles series, okay – so this is not even in this universe and not the same desk…but it sort of counts, right??



She’s never said what brought her back.

She’s never said why, after Sunnydale was a smoking crater, she came along to England.

She’s also never said why when all the others drifted away, she stayed.

And he’s never asked.

Just like he’s never asked why one day she decided they should be something more than Watcher and Slayer.

He might have pondered the whys for the rest of the night if the door to his study had not banged open.

A very flushed Faith tromped in, kicking the door shut behind her, hands already loosening her belt.

“Patrol’s done.”

He rose from behind his desk. “I would assume. Were you able to find them?”

She left the belt open and dangling, unbuttoning her jeans. “Yeah, picked them up outside some teeny bopper club. Followed them back to an abandoned building.”

He stepped out from behind his desk as she approached it, resuming the dance they’d danced many times before. “Very good. Perhaps tomorrow you can take a few of the girls with you and do further reconnaissance?”

“Umm….yeah.” She wouldn’t look at him, just took hold of her jeans and underwear, yanking them both down and bending over his desk.

His hands stopped on the zip of his trousers. Something was off. “Faith?”

She took two wide steps, spreading her legs as far as she could with her jeans around her ankles. “Giles?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

She looked down at the desk top. “There were only eight. I took care of them.”

“Faith!” he snarled, grabbing her arm and yanking her upright, spinning her around to face him.

He shook her, his face red. “Why did –? Alone? You stupid, stupid girl…”

He took a deep breath and continued calmly. “Pants off.”

She kicked off her shoes and wrestled her feet free of the tangle of material.

“Up on the desk,” he ordered, patting the wood.

“But Giles…You know I’d rather-”

“Yes, I know.” His voice was cold. “And you know you I don’t care what people who can’t follow orders would rather. Now, Up. On. The Desk.”

Reluctantly, she slid up onto the desk, the whine dying in her throat because his pants were down and he was driving into her before she could really even work up a good sulk.

He was furious and, frankly, not bothering with the niceties. Not that she really needed any lead-in after a patrol like that.

Bracing against the desk wasn’t working so she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling over. Now she could just hear his mumbling over the pounding of her own heart.

“I am NOT burying another Slayer. Not another. No Slayer of mine is dying on my watch. Not if I can help it. NO slayer of mine.”

She gasped, her voice a low throaty growl. “Say that again.”

It caught him off guard and he paused in mid-stroke, some of his anger dissipating. “Say what again?”

There’s an intense glitter to her eyes when she meets his gaze for the first time since she walked in. “Say it.”

“No Slayer of mine?” he repeated. She didn’t respond but she didn’t have to with the way her muscles jumped at those words.

He timed the next thrust with the words and her eyelids fluttered, her nails digging into the back of his neck, where she has her hands crossed.

It’s like a mantra. No Slayer of mine – over and over – and she was beyond gasping, beyond even panting, making a sound almost like mewling.

He had to be hurting her, his fingers digging into her hips so hard he can almost feel bone, but maybe not.

The words had run together now, “Mine” the only intelligible utterance, and her muscles – across her arms, along the legs wrapped around him, deep within her - were clenching tighter with each repetition.

Her eyes were clamped closed and she was biting her lip so hard, the pink flesh had gone white under her teeth, her head falling back, and she came harder than he’d ever seen.

She was nearly boneless, eyes glazed, as he finished, but as soon as he slipped out of her, she was off the desk, grabbing a few tissues to clean herself.

She never looked up, hastily stepping back into her jeans, stuffing her underwear into one of the pockets. She fastened her belt and turned in his direction.

“Understood – won’t happen again.”

And then she was gone, leaving him staring at the closed door.

Well, perhaps he had some idea about those whys.


END.

The End

You have reached the end of "No Slayer of Mine". This story is complete.

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