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Just Playing Around

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This story is No. 1 in the series "Gotham Fails". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: The slayers are running a little short on funds, and Faith thinks that Mr. Wayne ought to contribute... whether he knows it or not.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
DC Universe > Batman > Faith-CenteredPatriciaLouiseFR1512,361071,6045 Aug 115 Aug 11Yes
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Batman: the Animated Series

Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Batman. Buffy and related characters belong to Whedon. Batman and related characters belong to DC and WB.

Warnings: Sexual Situations.

A/N: Although I have more Batman: the Animated Series xovers planned for this challenge, this will be the last one for a little bit, because I promise that I write more Buffy xovers than with Batman, LOL. Well, the idea for this one comes from the Buffy comics a little bit—mostly concerning how the slayers get their money. And the last two Batman: the Animated Series fics I’ve done have been a part of a series. This one is NOT part of that series, although there will be some follow-up to this with other characters. Anyhow, on with the show!



Faith was not a girly-girl. Anyone one who saw the black leather-clad anti-Buffy could guess at that little factoid. But it didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy the occasional game of dress-up. After all, every girl, no matter how bad, liked to feel like a beautiful princess every now and again. And playing princess was never as much fun as when it was coupled with “spy” and “thief.”

But Buffy didn’t like to think about it as stealing—even though that’s totally what it was. No, the great and glorious leader of the slayers called what Faith was out to do tonight “funding the good fight.” Whatever made B sleep easier at night. But it wasn’t as fun looking at it that way, and now that she fought alongside her fellow power-girls, she rarely got a glimpse of thrills anymore.

And then there was Mr. Bruce Wayne and his benefit to save… something. All Faith was sure was that this money was going to objects, not people. Buffy wouldn’t have stood for it if she had sent Faith to steal money going to medical research or a children’s hospital. And even Faith felt a little icky at that thought.

So, dressed up in a fiery little number—that wasn’t black, but actually the simmering colors of fire—that came slightly off her shoulders and reached to her knees, Faith exited the (rented) limo, grinning at the men who stopped to gawk at her. Her hand went to the single piece of jewelry she wore that evening, a small diamond pendant on a gold chain that hung just inside her cleavage, and twirled it playfully as she strode past the onlookers.

This was going to be as easy as taking candy from a baby while having slayer strength.

It had been a while since she had let her bad girl just hang all out, but that’s what tonight was all about. She’d been given instructions to not draw too much attention, just enough to remove suspicion when the dough came up missing.
She entered the large manor and was immediately greeted by an old, English butler, offering her a tray full of glasses of champagne.

“Thanks, Jeeves,” she said, snatching up a glass.

The white haired man arched a single brow as he put his back to her.

“My name is Alfred, ma’am. Should you need anything else…”

He walked away, and Faith had to admire the balls that the help had. Taking a measured sip from the glass, she made her way farther into the party room, trying her best not to groan at the very loud string quartet that Mr. Wayne had hired for the night. She was a rock ‘n’ roller… classical wasn’t her scene. But she couldn’t deny that it had a bit of power backing it, and she found herself walking in time with the music as she found a clear vantage point to scan the scene.

The place was packed. In fact, having that many people in one room had to be a fire hazard. People where laughing and dancing and generally having a good time. Faith’s eyes found the front of the room and was a little disappointed to see that there was no large bowl of cash or anything quite as showy as some benefits liked to do. Stealing the money out from under the noses of so many people would have been a hell of a fun little challenge. But whatever.

It took a moment longer, but Faith finally spotted the evening’s host, the famous Bruce Wayne. He was surrounded by a flock of young women who seemed to hang on every word. Faith rolled her eyes. She made her way a little farther into the crowd, careful to keep her gaze on the boy billionaire. She was a mere six feet from him when she stopped. A man dressed in a seriously outdated tux approached Wayne, shaking his hand and instantly pulling a checkbook from his coat. After scribbling inside of it, he tore the check out and handed it to Wayne with a friendly “good-bye.” Wayne pocketed it as he turned back to his ladies, proceeding to entertain them more. Faith grinned.

“Mr. Wayne, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, careful to use the precise wording that Giles had told her to use.
She held out her free hand and watched as Wayne’s blue eyes lit up. He took a single step beyond the barrier of now disappointed women to take Faith’s hand and kiss it lightly.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Miss… ?”

“Faith,” she said. “Just Faith.”

His voice wasn’t quite what the slayer had expected. She’d imaged a dark, brooding voice that would be best suited leaking out from some shadowed place. But instead it was light, playful. She grinned.

“It’s a lovely home you have here, from what I’ve seen of it.”

“Thank you. It’s my family’s estate. Oh, hold on a minute, please,” he said as the same butler who had given Faith the champagne walked by.

Bruce pulled him to a stop, withdrawing the folded check from his jacket pocket. He handed it to the butler with instructions to “put it with the others.”

“Yes, sir,” Alfred said, disappearing from the room.

Time to play. Faith hooked her arm through one of Wayne’s, leaning ever so slightly into him.

“I’d love a tour, if you can be spared,” she said, putting the merest hint of seduction into the sentence.

Bruce blinked in surprise, his jaw dropping just a little before he shook his head.

“I’m afraid I’m needed here. Sorry. Maybe later tonight?”

“It’s a date,” she grinned.

She stayed on his arm, much to the dismay of the other girls, for the next couple of hours or so. She laughed at all his jokes, made a few of her own, and was sure to brush against him just a little. Not enough to look whorish, just enough to keep him interested. He didn’t seem to be complaining. Finally, she frowned just a little.

“Um, may I ask where the restroom is?” she asked.

“Oh, sure,” Bruce said, pointing toward the door she had entered the large ballroom through. “Go out that door, up the first set of stairs you come to. Go up just one flight and turn left, and it’ll be the third door on the right.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back,” she said.

He grinned, and there was a little bit more mischievousness in it than his others had had.

“I’ll be waiting.”

His voice had dropped just a single octave, but it made Faith pause. He sounded good with a deeper voice, and she would have been an idiot to try to make herself believe that she hadn’t let one of those good shivers trail up and down her spine.

But she was here for work, no matter how much fun she was having with Mr. Wayne. So she gave a little wave and followed the given directions—to a point. Alfred, Wayne’s trusty butler, had left the room a little before her, another check in hand. Careful to keep back a nice, unsuspicious distance, she followed him as he went up the first flight of stairs, turning left. However, he passed the third door on the right, turning into the fifth door on the left. Faith ducked into the restroom, just like she had said, but kept the door cracked just a bit. Alfred was only in the room a moment before he exited, and Faith shut the door with a quiet snap. She listened as the butler’s footsteps retreated back up the hall, until she couldn’t hear them anymore.

She was up the hall and in the room in a flash, shutting the door just as quietly behind her. Turning, she stopped, a smirk on her lips.

A plush bedroom, dimly lit, stretched out before her. And it didn’t look like any guest room. If she had to put money on it, she was sure that this was Bruce’s own room. She shook her head. Not a bad idea, to put the money where you could be sure to keep people away from. After all, bedrooms were private things.

“Well played, Mr. Wayne,” Faith chuckled, venturing in farther.

She had to make the search quick and as clean as possible. If she left any traces, there would be a world of trouble to follow, and although she was used to causing chaos, Buffy had strictly said, “No chaos.” Seriously. She’d said exactly that.
Faith ducked under the bed, feeling the floorboards. Nothing. She felt along the walls, but they were just as solid. She searched the large entertainment center set directly across from the foot of his large bed—and she couldn’t help but smile, thinking of what sort of “entertainment” Mr. Wayne liked to play on the TV. But again, zilch. She was on the bed now, searching the oddly wide headboard when she heard the click of the room’s doorknob being turned. She had only a second to have an excuse for being in an off-limits room. Thankfully, Faith had the perfect weapon in her arsenal for just such an occasion.

She dropped to her knees, pulling her dress even further off her shoulders, so that she had to hold up the front to keep herself covered. And boy was she relieved to see that it wasn’t the butler.

Bruce paused just in the doorway, his eyes wide in surprise. Faith put on her best coy grin and shrugged.

“You caught me. Now whatcha gonna do with me?”

Bruch shut the door behind him, shaking his head. “You aren’t supposed to be in here.”

That was a bit too serious-sounding for Faith’s liking.

“I know. I’m sorry. But I wanted some alone time, and this was the best way I could think to do it.”

“Did you, now?”

That was a bit softened. Faith pulled herself into a comfortable seat on the bed.

“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward.”

All this Giles-talk was bothering her, but she was in too deep now. If she switched into her normal mode, Wayne would definitely know something was up. The game was still on.

“And how, exactly, were you wanting to spend this alone time?”

In for a penny… Faith dropped her dress, and she knew she had Bruce’s attention. She put her hands out, gripping him by the waist, and pulled him into a long, deep kiss. He pulled away for a minute, locking eyes with her. He was searching her for… something. Faith put on her best “innocent” eyes and waited. A moment passed. And then another. And in the next, he was on her, gently removing the shimmery fabric from her body while she was busy undoing all the annoying little fasteners and zippers that came with a tux.

He was eager and willing, but he was well in control of his impulses, taking his time as they pulled themselves, now fully undressed, under the covers of the bed. He was gentle until Faith moaned something about going harder. Then he seemed all too happy to oblige.

She had expected him to rush, what with the party going on downstairs and all. But he took his time, making sure that they both got what they wanted from this little encounter. She wagered that an hour, at least, had passed when they finally parted, sighing happily. They laid in silence for a beat, and it was Faith that decided to break it.

“Don’t you have a party to attend?” she laughed.

He joined in, nodding. “I was hoping you’d mention that. I didn’t want you think…”

“That you’d do me and ditch? Nah, get back to your party before people start asking questions,” she said, garnering a strange glance from him.

Oops, little too much “Faith” in that last statement, but he let it slide without question as they both sat up, turning to their nearest sides of the bed. Faith had her dress back on in moments, while Bruce only managed his pants in the same amount of time. She ran a quick hand through her hair, trying her best to get rid of the “sex hair” when her eyes caught the end table. The door had come open ever so slightly and, just visible, was a small safe. Biting her lip lightly, she dared a glance over her shoulder. Bruce was still occupied getting dress.

Slowly, so slowly, she leaned forward for the door. She had to come up with a further distraction. Maybe she could “drop” her necklace, claiming it lost? That sounded good to her. She was just about to undo the latch on the chain when Bruce stopped her.

“Don’t try it.”

She turned, surprised. “What?”

“The old, ‘I’ve lost my necklace’ bit. It won’t work. I suggest leaving the money behind.”

“What are you talking about?”

But he wasn’t buying her act anymore. He shook his head, standing.

“I’m willing to let you go, despite the fact that you came to take the benefit money. I don’t know why, but you haven’t actually made any real attempt at it. And even if you admit to it right now, I’ll let you go, provided you don’t try this again.”

Faith was sure her eyes were about to fall out of their sockets.

“Jesus,” she muttered, standing as well. “What are you, Batman, or something?”

He grinned, pointing toward the door.

“I’d ask you to stay for the rest of the party, but all things considered…”

She grinned. “Yeah, I know. Well, it’s been fun.”

“Agreed. Shame we can’t do this again.”

Faith sighed, exiting the bedroom and not bothering to return to the ballroom. She went straight to the limo, a smile on her face all the way.

Plan failed, but she did have one thing to take back to Buffy: “Don’t screw with Bruce Wayne.”

Well… not literally.


Illustration
Disclaimer: I don't the images used here. Pattern from iceytina.deviantart.com

The End

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