a/n – The obligatory author’s note, wherein I thank you all for reading **wink and a grin** and tell you all how AWESOME my beta, Gail, is.  And she is.  Awesome, that is.  LOL. 

Enjoy.

hugs, sfg

Who am I?
 
~~~***~~~

Chapter 13 – Bleeding tragic taste in men

The real Buffy spoke without a hint of emotion in her voice.  “I see you met Faith, Riley.”

“Faith?”  Riley looked between the two girls, once, twice.  On the third pass, Faith, in Buffy’s body, lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers.

“Hi,” she said with a wink and a saucy grin.

~~~*~~~

The stupid git was pathetic.  He just lay there, staring at the girl beneath him until she got restless.  Which didn’t take long at all.

“Hey, lover, what say you get off of me, yeah?”  Her voice turned to ice in an instant.  “Right now.”

The dangerous look in her eyes so startled the tremendous Hall Monitor that he scrambled back off her like a crab, landing hard on his arse.  He managed to bring the sheet with him, though, baring Buffy’s body to all eyes in the room.

Unconcerned with her nudity, the imposter rolled out of bed and gave a cat-like stretch before reaching for her clothes.  Spike thoroughly enjoyed the view.

Hmm.  Niiiice.  Gotta get me some of that when the real Slayer is drivin’.

And after she’s had a good scrub.  Gack!

She shifted her eyes, catching him staring, and smirked, I told you so written all over her face.

Oh, she did not.  Someone needs to bring her down a peg or two and I’m just the vamp to do it.

“Shame you backed the wrong horse, pet.  A real gentleman wouldn’t’ve left you hangin’.  ‘S quite rude, that.”

She snorted.  “Yeah, and you could do better, right, Blondie?”

“Pet,” he purred, infusing pure sexual magnetism into his words, “we woulda brought down the house.”

He grinned when two distinct, yet different scents of feminine arousal reached his nose, nearly drowning out Iowa’s scent.

“So.” The imposter ignored the gauntlet and turned back to the Slayer, clearing her throat and trying to speak casually as she did this amazingly dexterous thing with her arms in order to clip the back-hooked black bra she was putting on. “How’d you get away from the Council guys, anyway?”

Council?  What was this, then?

“Pet?” Spike asked the real Buffy, who, wonder of wonders, was still pressed up against his chest almost as if she didn’t want to cross the threshold without him.

She answered them both, voice tight, eyes never leaving the other Slayer.  “The Council sent a team to neutralize Faith.  They got me instead.  No more team.”

“I swear, B,” the other said as her head popped out of her skimpy black tee, and she thrust her arms through the holes, “you must have a whole team of angels sittin’ on your shoulder.  Oh, wait,” she paused in the process of pulling on a boot, “you’re strictly Angel free now, aren’t you?”  She smirked, finished pulling on that boot and retrieved the other as well.  “Gotta say, though, B, this one?”  She nodded toward Riley, still huddled on the floor looking gobsmacked. “Not even close to the ride I got from Angel, even if he was only pretending to be Angelus.”

The mention of Angel seemed to wake Farm boy up and he fumbled to his feet.  “Buffy, what the hell is going on?”  He addressed his words to the blonde Slayer and Spike had to shake his head in wonder.

“You daft berk, you live on the sodden Hellmouth and you haven’t worked it out yet?” Spike tilted his head toward Buffy.  “I’ve said it before, luv.  I’ll say it again.  You have bleeding tragic taste in men.”

“Shut up, Spike!” Riley yelled, taking a threatening step toward the doorway – which actually wasn’t so threatening in his current state of undress.  And became even less threatening when he tripped over the end of the sheet and went stumbling in to the bed before he could right himself.

Both Faith and Spike snickered before Faith spoke.

“Blondie does have a point there, B.  This one,” she nodded at Riley as she swung on her   jacket. “He’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer.  And I know knives.”

The second the final piece of Faith’s wardrobe settled in place, Buffy spoke, still standing casually in the door way.  “Done now?  Haven’t forgotten an earring or anything, have you?”

“Nope.  I’m good.”  She smirked.

A tiny tensing of muscles was Spike’s only cue, but he’d been so in tuned with the Slayer and her style of fight that it was enough.  He braced himself.  When she moved, she was lightening fast, pushing off his braced stance and leaping through the air, angling her cocked fist in a devastating blow that landed full-force, plus momentum, on the cheek of her own body, which folded like a house of cards.

Spike stood completely stunned.

And hard as friggin’ stone.

Holy Hell.  One punch.  One beautiful, graceful, extraordinarily powerful punch. 

Rage and the Slayer.  Gorgeous.

“Buffy!”  Incredibly, the Soldier boy still thought that the crumpled form on the floor was the Slayer.  How could the irritating git not recognize the spirit of the girl he claimed to love, even in this dark shell she was wearing? 

It was unbelievable to Spike.

“God, could you possibly be any more dense, you stupid sod?  Faith swapped bodies with Buffy and you ,” he pointed a finger at him, “you didn’t even notice, you miserable wanker.”

“Buffy?” Riley whispered, finally turning toward the Faith-shaped Slayer.

She locked eyes with him but gave no other reaction.  After a moment, she turned away.

“I don’t have time for this.” 

Leaning down, she grabbed the hand of her unconscious body and dragged her to the doorway, passing her over to Spike, who easily hefted her limp form onto his shoulder.

Buffy once more locked sad eyes with Riley before sighing and turning away. 

“Spike?” she said over her shoulder.

He met the eyes of Soldier boy himself, but spoke to the Slayer.  “Yeah?”

“Don’t do anything gross with my body or I’ll stake you.”

He smirked and waggled an eyebrow at Riley.  “Now would I do that, luv?”

Then he turned and followed her out of Lowell House.

tbc