Mile High Club

Version : Faith-Xander

-Part Two-

 

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!

 

=====================================================================

 

Good. I'm glad I got her off my case. Now I can just relax and try to enjoy the rest of the flight.

 

I close my eyes and attempt to sleep. I'm not feeling guilty about making her feel bad. She's a killer, for God's sake! If it weren't for Angel, I'd just be another one of her victims.

 

I look over at her and sigh. Damn it. I'm just really bad at being mean. I can't even hold grudges, apparently. Because I *do* feel bad for making her feel bad. Well, shit.

 

I put my hand on her arm. "Okay, so I'm a jerk for bringing that up. Especially since, from what I heard, you were trying to change. So I'm sorry. This whole weird situation just caught me off-guard."

 

 

I shrug. "I treated you like a whore. Only fair for you to treat me like what I *am*." And then I put the headphones on and turn the radio on. Perfect.

 

//Crawling in my skin... Consuming all I feel... Fear is how I fall... Confusing what is real//

 

I can't help but sing along softly to myself.

 

//Against my will I stand beside my own reflection. It's haunting how I can't seem to find myself again. My walls are closing in.//

 

 

Okay, apology taken care of. I'm not feeling guilty anymore. I'll just take that nap now.

 

And no, I'm not going to get sucked into her world again. That was my mistake last time. I've got my own dysfunctions to deal with, they keep me quite busy, thank you very much. I look at my watch. Only two hours and forty-five more minutes.

 

The flight attendant stops next to me. "Can I get you two anything to drink?" she asks.

 

"Beer. Whatever kind you've got," I reply, handing her the money. I nudge Faith. "Drink?"

 

 

"What's the drink of whores?" I mumble before saying, "Water."

 

 

"You're not a whore," I mutter under my breath once the flight attendant has moved on. "You've got problems. I've never met a person who isn't messed up in some way. It's a fact of life. My advice on how to deal with it? Denial. Therapy's too expensive. And yes, I *am* speaking from personal experience on that."

 

 

"Aren't I?" I ask as I take the headphones off. "I used sex to get what I want. And when that didn't work, I killed people." I rub my forehead and push my hair back. "I'm not proud of what I've done. I'm not proud of who I was. And I'm sorry for using you the way I did."

 

There. It's off my chest. Not that it'll make much of a difference. But... at least I can cross him off my list. And he's not laughing in my face or slugging me like Cordelia did. And he's not insulting me yet. So... it's done.

 

"Just forget I'm here," I say as I turn back to the window while curling my legs under me on the seat, "Everyone else does." I mumble and hope he didn't hear me.

 

 

"I seriously doubt that," I reply. "And I'm not just saying that because you're beauti... um. I mean, there's no way anyone could not know you were in the room..." Yes, Alexander Harris is still as smooth as ever. "Apology accepted and I'll just shut up now and stop babbling."

 

 

"You think I'm beautiful?" I ask in awe as I turn to him.

 

 

Damn it. She caught that.

 

I look over at her, but her expression isn't laughing at me. Good. "Well, yeah, Faith. I mean, I know I've never had women falling all over me but I wouldn't have sex with just *anyone* who offered. I'm not like that. 

 

"I liked you and I thought that you just needed someone to be on your side. And yes, I also thought you were beautiful. You still are." I turn away again, because I know I'm blushing.

 

 

I lean over and kiss his cheek softly. "You're the only one who ever thought so."

 

 

"Not likely," I reply. And I think it's time to change the subject. "So, what brought you to Chicago?"

 

 

"I had a pick up. I've gotta take it up to Modesto, so I'm flying to LA and then driving north. You?"

 

 

"I've lived here for the past four years. I thought getting away from the Hellmouth would make life easier for me and Anya - my wife. Turns out *I* was the problem, not the demons." I realize I sound really self-pitying so I add, quickly, "I'm over it, though. It's been six months; it's all water under the bridge. I'm not sure if I'll stay here or what, now..."

 

 

"Sorry to hear that. You deserve better. I always thought you did. You were too nice to pine over Buffy or Cordelia." Then, I clear my throat as our dinner trays are delivered. "So... how are the rest of your friends?"

 

 

"Fine, I guess," I reply. "I haven't really kept up with all of them. Willow lets me in on the big news, such as the wedding."

 

 

"Oh, why not?"

 

 

"Why not what?" I ask. I know what she wants to know, but I'm stalling while I think up a good answer.

 

 

"If you don't wanna... I mean I have no right to even ask." I take another mouthful of the ziti, which is pretty good. "So are you working?"

 

 

"Yeah, construction," I answer. "And I don't keep up with anyone other than Willow, because they've never bothered to try to keep up with me. I don't blame them. I *was* just 'the guy who always got in the way', back on the Hellmouth." Or, as my dad used to phrase it: a useless little piece of shit.

 

 

"I don't think that's true. You tried to help me." I offer. "I was just too stupid to take you up on the offer. And you *did* help in the fights. You got our back from the sidelines. There's something to be said for having eyes in the back of your head."

 

And now I've said too much, although it *is* nice to be talking with him again. I always did like him.

 

I *do* wonder, if that night, if I *would* have killed him.

 

 

"You mean I deflected the demons' attention off of you guys and onto me?" I reply. "Yeah, I guess that can be considered useful to some. To Buffy and Giles, though, it was just an added danger, since Buffy had to save my ass 90% of the time. Believe me, they're much better off now that I'm elsewhere." I add, "But thanks for trying to make me feel better. It's not like I'm still upset about that stuff. I really do have my own life now. I guess it's just going back that brings it all up again."

 

 

"So why are you?" I ask. "I mean... there's a reason I'm not in LA."

 

 

"Because I'm the loyal sidekick. Good for moral support, if nothing else," I reply with a little smile. "I'll go, I'll be funny and self-deprecating, then I'll leave after a couple days and come back here.

 

"So, why are you not in L.A.?" I ask. I am curious.

 

 

I knew I shouldn't have said anything... damn. Will I ever learn?

 

"Well," I say as I take a drink of my soda. "After being a punching bag for the guards in jail, I really didn't need to be Cordelia's. Nor did I wanna hear her version of how whorish and fucked up I was everyday. So... I left. Without even saying goodbye."

 

 

"Ah," I reply. "Yeah, Cordelia can be vicious. I remember that, well." Too well. "She really made me feel like shit after the Willow thing. I know, I know, we were in the wrong. But she made sure we were aware of that, every day, until she left town. She holds grudges, like nobody else I know.

 

"So... where are you going after Modesto?" I wonder, in the attempt to lighten the mood a little.

 

 

I shrug as I finish the dinner. "Dunno. I'm not really a stay in place girl, as I'm sure you could have guessed. It's why I like my job... I get to travel a lot. I go wherever my boss needs a job done."

 

 

"I see." Too bad. If she *were* going to stick around Chicago for a while, we could... nothing. That's a really bad idea, Xan, so forget it immediately.

 

"So, what kind of job is it?" I ask.

 

 

"I pick things up for my boss and drop them off wherever he tells me."

 

 

"Uh, huh," I nod. "Well, that just explains everything." I grin.

 

 

"Well, if I told you, then I'd have to kill you." I say with a smile before realizing that that might not be the best joke with someone knows that I actually *have* killed people. "Sorry... I shouldn't have... so... you're in construction? What do you do exactly?"

 

 

"Um, build things?" I laugh. "Sorry, I gotta work on that sarcastic streak, I know. Seriously, though, I discovered that I manage *not* to kill myself, using a hammer and nails. Right now the company I work for is doing the new shopping center in downtown Chicago.

 

"It's a good job and I actually enjoy it. I'm pretty good at it too, I think. At least, I haven't been fired, so I guess I'm okay. So..." I pause for a moment as the flight attendant takes our food. "I won't ask about the details of whatever you do; it's none of my business. But what *can* you tell me about your new life? Do you live in Chicago? Are you still slaying?"

 

 

"I actually have an apartment in Chicago *and* New York. Although last year, I was in Europe for a month. My boss is... probably the first person who ever really treated me like a person, especially since prison. He's a really great guy.

 

"I'm trying to stay away from the slaying as much as I can since last time... well you know what happened. I got drunk on power. It's not my life, but when I'm roaming around and there's a problem, I slay.

 

"I do like moving around a lot, but I'm mainly running between Chicago and New York."

 

I pull my legs up and sit facing him. He seems really interested and this is really... nice. It's been a while since anyone has been interested in what I was saying.

 

 

"Sounds like you're happy, so that's good," I reply with a smile. And it *is* good, because I really can't remember ever seeing her happy, when she was in Sunnydale. It's a good look for her.

 

 

"I am happy. A little lonely sometimes, but I made my own bed."

 

 

"Now, don't tell me you don't have men drooling, anywhere you go, because I won't believe it," I say.

 

 

"There are men. And there is drool. But," I can't even believe I'm about to share this with him. "You probably won't even believe me, but I haven't even had sex since I got out of prison. I used to think it'd be the first thing I did after eating, but... there wasn't anyone that I wanted at the time. And now, a lot of the guys I deal with on a daily basis only want me to suck and fuck. And I just don't want that anymore."

 

 

"Oh." Brilliant response, Xan. "What do you want? If you want to tell me. Or you could just tell me to mind my own business, instead. I'd understand if you did."

 

 

"Not like I *don't* like having sex, but... I guess I want someone I can trust. I've been hurt so much in the past fr-" I'm not going there now. "I just want someone I can trust. Someone I can have fun with and not worry about getting hurt and someone who *I* won't hurt in the process."

 

I glance at the television and note the time. "I'm just lacking that someone. So... it's not like I can't-" I shake my head a little and smile. "I'm gonna go pee."

 

 

I try to give her a little room as she squeezes out to the aisle. And I do *not* check out how amazing she looks in those leather pants. No. I'm so not going there. She may have changed, but it's still a bad idea to go there again.

 

Why?

 

Um... It just is.

 

TBC

ONTO THE NEXT PART

 

BACK TO THE HOME OF MILE HIGH CLUB

 

BACK TO THE INDEX OF CED & EW FICS

 

SEND US FEEDBACK

 

FICTION BY TITLE

FICTION BY PAIRING

 

RETURN BACK TO MAIN PAGE

 

 

 

 

1