RATING: R SUMMARY: Dru's building a new family. PAIRING: Dru/Faith/Tara
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"In mine, that after-image
of my mother's head is changing
to lines of older heritage, coiled
in uneasy dreams..."
--"Dark Mothers," Anne Cluysenaar
Her blood's like sugar when I finally get the nerve to bite down. It's hot
and thick and burning, just like the rest of her body feels, grinding
against mine.
And Faith's just pressing her hips up to me, not stopping, not acting like
all this blood loss phases her at all. And maybe it doesn't. After all, I
don't even know her that well. But she's here to be mine. Dru wants it this
way, and who am I to argue?
The blood's hot and I want to just tear her open and gulp it down. Maybe Dru
would forgive me, just this once...
My Daddy always said that it was part of a mother's nature to be wrong now
and then. Of course, he also said that Momma *tripped* down those stairs, so
maybe he ain't the best one to take advice from.
I can't kill her, no, not when she's got two fingers rubbing at me, her
other hand pushing me inexorably down 'til I'm straddling her with my face
pressed to her chest, slowing my swallows and opening my eyes.
I don't think she'd let me kill her anyway. She might be a bit crazy after
all that head trauma, but Faith's still a Slayer after all that's happened,
and I'm still practically a newborn. So I'll just slip another finger inside
her, make her moan and feel those still-strong muscles ripple beneath me as
she grips the bed-frame just a shade tighter. It's been a long time since I
got a chance to take control like this, and oh Goddess, it's good.
It's good like that first night with Dru, when she just swooped in like some
kind of velvety sheer-winged bat and took off with me in her talons. I
didn't want to leave my girl, granted, but she was cold, and torn, and there
was so much blood. I was all alone, and I just couldn't stay. Not that I
could have fought her off to begin with.
'Cause Dru's *strong* in that brittle body. I saw her rip off a few heads
trying to get the two of us out of that damned town.
I guess she was back in Sunnydale looking for Spike, but he was already
ashes, dead, just like the others. I'm glad she decided to settle for me. I
was the only one left, after all.
She took me home and took care of me, made me like her and gave me a whole
new life. And it's perfect here, just her and me and some city lights
shining through our window. I think it must be L. A. around us now, because
Faith's skin tastes like smog on my tongue when I lick at her cheek.
Dru's a lot more clever than I give her credit for. I don't even know how
she did it, how she got into those walls and brought the Slayer out, out,
out to me without getting caught.
All I know is Faith's the only other woman left who remembers Sunnydale now,
who remembers who I used to be. It'll be fun showing her just how much I've
changed.
And oh yeah, I'm gasping and writhing on top of her as hot pleasure flashes
through me, feeling her come to climax as well within moments. So when I can
hear her heart slow down a few beats, I slide down to her right, head
nuzzled into her shoulder. The look on her face says she remembers me, but
certainly not like *this.*
Then Dru snakes her way out from behind the sheer curtains, staring at me
with those moon-bright eyes, and nods.
So I pull back, reaching to the nightstand and gripping the waiting blade.
It feels good in my hand, solid, as I swipe lazily at my throat. My hand
comes away red.
Faith's dark dark eyes are burning with realization, but she slips one hand
into my hair and drags my neck to her mouth, maybe 'cause she's hungry and
alone just like I was. Dru beams and claps her hands, smiling proudly at me.
My surrogate mother, now to be a grandmother.
And I wonder what she'll be like when she wakes up. I wonder how long it'll
take for her to know me as *me* and not that frightened little Tara who
shriveled under her gaze that night in the Bronze, who knew that it wasn't
Buffy in that body and was just plain scared.
As she slides away into sleep in my arms, I remember it doesn't matter how
many years it takes. We've got all the time in the world, now.