Mile High Club

Version : Faith-Xander

-Part One-

 

AUTHORS: dru as Faith & Evil Willow as Xander (Go worship the goddess that is EW!)

SERIES: Mile High Club

PAIRING : Faith/Xander

RATING : NC17 (highly smutty with plenty of salty goodness!)

DISCLAIMER : We do not own these characters. We just like putting them in lewd positions!

NOTE: We wrote this as role-play on Yahoo! IM! We had *so* much fun! We've co-authored  before but never live like this! We hope you enjoy the fruits of our lab- okay, so it wasn't really *work*. It was more like play!

 

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I certainly hope my vacation will be better than the last few hours have been. The flight was delayed for three hours, because of snow.

 

I hate snow. And I guess that means I shouldn't have moved to Chicago, four years ago. But I only did it because Anya was sick of the Hellmouth. But then, of course, once we got settled in the Windy City, she discovered she was really sick of *me*. I'm sure that news was no surprise to anyone but me.

 

But I'm over it. It was six months ago, so I'm *very* over it. Yes, that's right, I'm all recovered. And now I'm returning to the Hellmouth for Buffy and Angel's wedding. Oh boy, this should be *so* much fun.

 

 

FUCKING BAGGAGE HANDLERS! Wouldn't even let me take my fucking bag as a carry-on! Too fucking big, my ass!

 

So now, it's all the way below the plane, and I'm *inside* the plane. I shoulda just belted him one! Damn right! Slayer moves! Almost had to use them to get the damn bag through the security gates!

 

Luckily though... it never hurts to show a little cleavage.

 

Okay. At least they have the decency to pay for a first class ticket. That's the fuckin' *least* they could do!

 

Okay. 10B. Window seat. Or should be, unless the jerko got there first. You never can be too sure with air travel. But I like to see out the window and if I have to throw down with someone, then I'll do it. I *will* get the fucking window seat.

 

Okay. 15. 14. 13. 12. 11. 10-

 

 

I look up from my aisle seat as someone stops next to me. My eyes wander up, noting the black leather pants, and then bare midriff, red tank top, and "Oh, HELL no!" I yell as I look up into the eyes of just about the only person I could think of that could make this vacation worse.

 

 

"Well, whaddya know! Hey, Slugger! How's it hangin'? Limpy?"

 

 

"Why me?" I ask with a frown. I mean, really, what did *I* do, in a previous life, to get all this torture heaped on me? "Tell you what, I'll just save you the trouble and jump out of the plane when it starts moving, okay?"

 

 

"Hey, whatever." I say as I reach up to the overhead and put my suitcase in there. I *do* notice how he stares at my stomach, and my navel as the shirt moves. I look back down after closing the compartment and say, "Well? Like it? It's relatively new." I pull my shirt up so he can get a good look at my belly button ring.

 

 

"Oh, that's just great, you seat is here???" I ask with a sigh. I stand and say, "Well, it's been fun but I'll take another flight." Unfortunately, the flight attendants pick that moment to shut the door. Shit.

 

"Or not," I shrug. I move into the aisle so she can get to her seat. I look around for an empty one far, far, far away, but of course, it's a full flight. I hate my life.

 

 

I flop down in my seat and flip it back as I grab a magazine. "Don't see what the big dealio is! Just sit."

 

 

I sit down, keeping as far away from her as possible. It's not that I'm paranoid, I'm just... okay, I'm paranoid. But I guess she's got a point. It's been years, she can't *still* want to kill me. Can she? At least not in public.

 

 

I pull my legs up onto the seat and lean against the window. I glance over at him and he's trying to stay as far away from me as possible. I laugh it off and look out the window. We'll start taxiing soon. God I love flying.

 

I look over at him again and he's sitting there petrified. Of what, I'm not sure.

 

"Relax." I say. "Not like I bite."

 

 

I stop myself before I make a crack about remembering how she liked to strangle, not bite. No, not going there. I pull a magazine out from the pocket in front of me. I hate flying, anyway. But now I've got a homicidal slayer sitting next to me. This is going to be a *long* flight.

 

 

This magazine is boring so I toss it behind me. "So," I twist around so I'm facing him and sit Indian-style on the chair. "What's been goin' on? Why ya goin' to LA?"

 

 

"You don't know?" I ask. I guess when I saw her, I figured that the slayer/ex-vampire wedding was bringing her to L.A. too. A few years ago, I'd heard that she and Angel were friends, as strange as that seems.

 

 

"Know what?"

 

 

Oh. So maybe I'm not so sure I want to tell her, then. But then again, it *is* a crowded plane. So I'm safe... Right? "Buffy and Angel's wedding," I reply.

 

 

"Oh." Wow... that... *is* unexpected. I mean... wow. "Wow."

 

I mean... god... "Finally figured out the soul thing then..." I mumble as I turn towards the window. "Good for them."

 

 

"Yeah, I guess," I shrug as I turn back to my magazine. It's not that I'm jealous, anymore. Well, not of Angel. I'm over the Buffy obsession. If I'm jealous of anything, it's of their happiness. If an ex-vampire and slayer can figure out how to make a relationship work, with all those obstacles they faced, how come *I*, a perfectly normal -well almost normal- human male can't make it work with *anyone*?

 

 

The stewardesses start to tell us all the evacuation procedures and stuff but I really couldn't care less at this point. Buffy and Angel are getting married.

 

Buffy and Angel are getting *married*.

 

*Buffy* and *Angel* are getting married.

 

How is that even possible? He's a vampire! How can she get him and what do I get?

 

I get it. I have to make up for the things I've done. But so does he! Where does he get off getting *married*?

 

I buckle my belt just as he reaches for his and our hands brush against each other. It's been a while since... I smile at him sweetly.

 

 

"Uh, sorry," I mumble as I look away again. Three hours. I can deal with three hours of being cooped up in this airplane with Faith. Who knows? Maybe that time in jail mellowed her out.... Yeah, right.

 

I look over at her again and she looks really good. NO. She looks like she always did: dangerous.

 

Maybe I'll just sleep. Or maybe that's not a brilliant thing to do when you're sitting next to a convicted killer. Damn. How do I end up in these situations?

 

This magazine is just not interesting at all. I put it back and glance at her. She's just staring at me. "What?" I ask with a sigh. I suppose I could try to be civil. We are stuck here for three hours, so I might as well make the best of things.

 

 

If I'm gonna be here, I might as well have fun. He was always fun, wasn't he? I glance at him. Yes, yes he *was*.

 

I reach over and place my hand high up on his thigh. "So, Xanderrr," I slide my hand further up towards his cock. "Seeing anyone?"

 

 

No way am I going to be *that* civil. I grab her hand quickly. I don't want her to know how hard I am, have been, since I saw her. I wish I didn't react so predictably to a beautiful woman.

 

"No," I say as I let go of her arm and grab a magazine. Just to hide my erection that's very visibly tenting my pants. On second thought, sleep would be a good idea. If I'm asleep, I'm not talking to her or doing anything else to embarrass myself. I shut my eyes and hope she gets the hint.

 

 

Well, that's not fun.

 

I lean over to him and whisper. "No, you don't have a girlfriend? Or," I place my hand on his thigh again, inches away from his obvious erection. "Or... no you don't want me to touch you?"

 

 

"All of the above," I say through gritted teeth, keeping my eyes closed. "Plus I'm not eighteen anymore and am not in the mood for games."

 

She squeezes my thigh and I bite my lip to keep from groaning. I suppose I should remove her hand, but there's a really sick part of me that doesn't want to do that. So maybe if I just ignore her, she'll get bored and leave me alone? Yeah, because that has worked with everyone else in my life who's enjoyed tormenting me.

 

 

I place my hand directly on his cock and squeeze him a little. "Oh, I don't think that's true, Xander. I think you very much want me to touch you." Then, I lick his ear, "And maybe a few other nasty things..."

 

 

Oh, fuck. If it hadn't been so long, I'd be jumping up and running away. Or maybe not. I don't know what it is about Faith, but she's just... Faith. Even though she nearly killed me, I'm still very attracted to her. And yes, I am aware of how sick that is.

 

"No," I say. I grab her hand but she just squeezes me a little harder, making me gasp. "Fuck, Faith, stop it. I'm not interested in reliving *that* part of my past. Find someone else to humiliate this time."

 

 

"Fine, whatever." I pull my hand away and as we take off, I just relax a little.

 

"Don't see how it was *so* humiliating... not like you got a little dick or anything. And ya didn't come early or anything..." I mumble before unbuckling once the sign is off. "God, it's hot in here." I say as I take my tank top off to reveal my black cotton work out top.

 

"Damn, is it hot in here?" I ask him as I a grab a glass of ice when the stewardess walks by. I rub the ice on my neck and around on my chest and I sit back on the chair, knowing his eyes are on me.

 

So... I do the only thing I can do. I slowly slip my fingers with the ice inside my bra and rub it against my nipple and moan as I do.

 

 

Shit. "Huh?"

 

Okay, Xander, you are not a horny eighteen year old. Focus. No, not on THAT, on the reality of the situation.

 

Situation? Um....

 

Oh, yeah. Now I remember. "The humiliation I was referring to was when you tried to fucking *kill* me and Angel, of all people, saved my life. *That* was the humiliation, Faith."

 

 

I immediately pull my hands away from myself and pull my tank top back on. "Sorry." I say and turn to the window. I try not to think about *that* me. And I remember now why I stopped talking to Angel and going there when I got out. I was sick of having his friends throw everything in my face. They weren't always throwing his evilness in *his* face, but for some reason they felt the need to remind me what whorish, trailer park trash I was.

 

Not like I didn't deserve it. Not like they said anything that was false. But still... I've tried to move on.

 

But it's clear he shares the same opinion of me that Cordelia did, so...

 

I grab the headphones quickly and hope they've got a station with loud music.

 

TBC

 

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