Angel: Cause I Gotta Have Faith Part 2 (MF,viol)
by Anonymous

Angelus got on his knees, looking at a shocked, scared and slightly aroused
Faith in the eye for a stillborn moment before roughly gripping her neck and
leaning in to bite her.

I know, I know. He said he wasn't gonna change her. He didn't. He bound her
to him.

It was bad at first. She hated him, months passed and she wanted to kill him
for making her his bitch. He could do anything to her, and she would have to
submit. Suck his cock, bend over and spread her legs for him, call out HIS
name instead of Angel's when the demon was forcing her body into an
earthshattering orgasm. But she was bound for life. And Faith was a survivor.

Yet in time, she grew out of hating him and into loving him. Not as she had
loved Angel, she could never love Angelus that way. But he made her feel
right. As wonderful as Angel had been to her, the demon gave her something
Angel never could. Acceptance. Acceptance of her not just as a Slayer, but
as a person. As a horny woman. As a demanding WOMAN. As Iroquois, and not as
a novelty. Angelus accepted her spellcasting, the increasing amount of power
she had and her refusal to regard every being that wouldn't serve humankind
crawling like a chained slave back in the days of the Old South as inherently
evil. Angelus wasn't human, yet he wasn't fully demon either. He was hybrid,
and he understood that in this world, there were shades of grey. Eventually,
Faith came to accept whatever they had as one of them. It wasn't Stockholm
Syndrome, it wasn't like it had been with Wilkins. She couldn't explain it,
it was paradoxical and pointless. Every night he would go out and hunt while
she would slay the fledgelings he'd created the night before. Sometimes she
would miss some, and more than once a vampire had been about to take her
life, only to see Angelus' mark on her kneck; they would then apologize, and
scuttle away in fear.

The supernatural pair would come home from their nightly affairs and fuck for
hours. Vanilla, whips, chains, master and slave, they would dance quite a
bit. Faith would go out for a few hours in the daylight; she needed it since
she was still human, although her bound state caused her to crave less light
and more darkness than she had before. She found herself increasingly
sensitive to the midday sun. Fortunately, her beautiful tan glow did not
change despite this.

* * *

It had been almost a month after Buffy and her fighting allies had defeated
The First. Then she had heard the news. It wasn't her, it wasn't the team,
all the work she had done with her uncalled Sisters, or the mastery of
Willow's power. It had been Angelus.

He'd defeated The Beast, and then restored the balance between The Firsts of
Good and Evil.

Cordy was dead. The drain The First had taken on her own body left her
almost eighty when she returned to this world. But this was not her undoing.
While a lesser woman would have waited for death to arrive, Cordelia Chase
had changed over the years. The first thing she'd seen to upon her return had
been a cleansing ritual to forever purge her mind of the insinuating images
of The First guiding Connor into her own body. Then she had put on a baby
blue Ralph Lauren dress and gone out to catch the new Eddie Norton vehicle,
"Keeping The Faith". She may have been dying, but she'd learned the twists
and turns of her profession. You never knew if your number would be called
next, or when you'd wind up living on Park Place as a gift from an
intergalactic Chance card.

And now she was dead, because everyone at the Hyperion had presumed Angelus

They hadn't actually found her body in all the chaos. But he hadn't returned,
and it wasn't in his profile to stay dormant when the people that Angel had
become close to were still ripe with living nerve endings that could be
manipulated for shits and giggles. So AI assumed that Angelus had killed
Faith, and then met his doom in the frequent bursts of intermittent sunlight
that would wreak havoc among the living and nosferatu, making a simple trip
to stock up on food a life threatening venture for both.

This was their downfall.

Ok, you know, I just gotta say that I'm kinda ok with the scenario. You know,
I'm not particularly evil, but was anyone else tired of Cordy's snore of an
existence? You know, being a spiritually enlightened being doesn't mean
you've got to dress in neutral beige and take on it's personality. I gotta
say, bitch C was way more fun to be around than The Mop. That's right, I
nicknamed her The Mop. Man, I'm just glad I was born demon, cause becoming,
man, it really screws with your joi de vivre, you know? Just look at Angel.
Ooh, I'm two hundred and fifty years old, I'm gonna date a cheerleader, I
like crisp slacks blah blah blah. I mean, I gotta tell you the best time I
ever had with Angel was when I dragged him outta that dumpster in the city.
At least then his lack of food or coherence made him kind of fun to be

Anyway, so where was I? Right, right. Alrigh, straight talk. I guess I do
miss old Cordy, and if I knew 'em, I'd probably miss Fred and Gunn and even
that green guy, Lorence. Wesley was the only one that made it out. But he
didn't make it out alive.

* * *

As his dust exploded into the air surrounding her stake, Faith felt like

But she didn't. She was fucking a vampire who'd done worse than murder her
Watcher. He'd filled Wesley's flesh with evil. And for what, she wondered?
Kicks? To see the expression on her face when she killed him? Or was it
revenge for slaying his minions so accurately? Did it matter?

Wesley had tried to help her, Angel had tried to help her, Buffy had tried
to tell her she could change and wear alot of accessories in her new life.
And she was fucking a demon. And she loved him. Whatever kind of love it was
must not be written down. She hated everything he did, except how he made
her feel when he was with her. And if he died or was lost to the soul, Faith
knew she'd kill herself. Because somewhere along the line, she'd stopped
loving Angel and started loving Angelus.

That's what you get for trying to help, Faith though stoicly as she shrugged
the ashes off her thin cashmere sweater. A tear threatened to spill out over
her eye, before she bit down on her bottom lip and held it back.

Faith opened the door to the mansion on Princeton Street, letting it slam
behind her with pent up frustration. Angelus and his mansions. Must have been
the fact that he was made in an alley; he would spend eternity trying to make
up for it by living as lavishly as possible. She understood his need, but she
was far beyond the thrilling alure of pink diamonds and Playstations.

But Faith didn't care about any of that. Tonight, she was intent on one thing
only. She would make him pay.

For Angelus was a born top, and in all of their time together, spending hours
ravishing each others' bodies, Faith had discovered two vital truths. Angelus
was an awe inspiring lover, and irrevocably dominant. She had spent months
bowing to his every whim. At first she had resisted, hating herself even more
for feeling pleasure at his touch.

But in the end, there was nothing more to care about. He killed, she let him.
She let him do anything he wanted, and he did it with a sadistic smile spread
across his face. Whips, paddles, coming on her face, anything was fair game
when he wanted to punish her for an 'infraction'. What made it worse was
that she got off on it. She didn't fight him, like she had every other male
whom she'd fucked, for dominance. Until tonight.

She would make him pay, no matter what it took to beat him... preferrably all
night. This wasn't sexual, or so she told herself. It was about Wesley. If he
were alive, he would be disgusted by her actions, her life, but he might take
pleasure in her torture of the demon who'd killed him.

Faith couldn't decide what she hated more, that Wesley would be disgusted at
her life, or the fact that he wouldn't be surprised.

At the scene in front of her eyes, Faith thought starting with a rosary
necklace would be a sweet beginning. Buffy sat on the vampire's lap in a
velvet chaise by the gentle fire burning in the foyer's hearth. He was
looking up at her with tearstreaked eyes, which Buffy mirrored back down
to him as they gazed into each other's eyes.

"Angel, I love you," Buffy whispered.


"Angel, how long has it been? I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, I just, I'm sorry,
I didn't know how to..." Buffy stammered, her feelings clearly displayed in
her tearstreaked eyes, as Faith stood frozen in the entranceway.

"Buffy, you have to know I love you so-", he began, before his words were cut
off by the dark Slayer's acrid voice.

"Where is he?"

He looked up at Faith, his eyes shining with remorse. "Oh, God, Faith I'm so
sorry," the vampire began, "I know what ... I know what he-"

"Listen, Cupid, I didn't ask for your fucking apology. I said WHERE IS HE!"
Faith's voice roared in the open space of the foyer, as two pairs of eyes
looked at her incredulously.

"Oh, Faith, you have to let it go. What Angelus did to you was awful. But,"
Buffy continuined, wondering how she would break the news to the unstable
Slayer, "but it's gonna be ok. Angel's back."

Buffy beamed a bright smile of pure pleasure as she added, turning her head
in towards her new lover, "And we'll help you, we're still friends Faith.
God, what's all in the past, it's in the past. Please, please let it go, just
for now."

"Yes, Faith," the Irish-American vampire chimed in, "please let it go. I know
what Angelus did to you is so wrong, every time he raped you, over and over
as he held you captive in this deathtrap."

The vampire averted his gaze to the rich persian tapestries and marble
columns gracing the foyer. Buffy looked at him, wondering exactly what he'd
done to Faith in her absence. And suddenly, a sick invasive feeling spread
itself through her body. Jealousy. Angel had told her that he'd kept Faith
here, and that was all. Buffy had assumed Angelus had just tortured her, but
now it was clear that he had meant to spare her the truth.

"Every night Angelus made you cry out in ecstasy, making your body come even
though you hated it," he continued as Buffy looked up at him with widening
eyes, "and all those times he made you wear that emerald and gold leash and
collar and made you...service me."

The vampire watched Buffy's wan-like chest heave as she came to understand
what the demon had done to her Sacred Sister with Angel's body.

"And all those times I ate your pussy and you would say," he continued,
mimicking the whimpering change in Faith's voice when she lost herself in
the throes of passion," Oh, GOD, ANGELUS, PLEASE, BABY, PLEASE!! OH, OH,

Laughing perversely, Angelus tossed a shocked Buffy off his lap and walked
towards Faith, who's jaw was now twitching in tense fury. But before she
could swing her ringed fist against his smugly smiling mouth, he gripped her
hips and spread them around his waist, pinning her to the wall and claiming
her mouth in a brutal kiss.

His tongue thrust within her, and for a moment, as her own met his to duel
for dominance, she forgot her rage at him. But Faith had never been a 'close
your eyes' woman, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Buffy's crumpled
frame laying on the cold marble floor nearby. Faith threw Angelus off of her;
he landed beside Buffy.

"Angelus, you're a sick fuck," Buffy spat forth as she drew her stake from
her back pocket, the one she'd kept... just in case Willow's permanence spell
hadn't worked.

"Oh, come on, Buffy, you're a cute slut, I'd just rather come on Faith!"

Buffy's cheeks flushed crimson at the demon's words, and after her initial
shock quickly faded, she opened her mouth to issue a scathing reply. And then
she noticed that neither Angelus nor Faith were looking at her. They weren't
fighting, either. They simply stood in a deadlocked impasse, staring into
each other's eyes.

"Why?" Faith broke the silence with her simple question. She had spent three
years in prison, trying to atone for the people she'd murdered and hurt. But
she had spent twenty two years trying to prove to herself that she was
deserving of love. If nothing else, she'd thought Angelus loved her.

What made his love more valuable to her than the human lives he took with
glee was the fact that it was unconditional. If she had been a simpering
socialite, or a born again Christian who recited verses daily and baked
lemon squares for church functions, he would love her just the same as he
did now. He would love her if she was a homicidal maniac still intent on
murdering for fun, or if she she were locked in an institution forever to
battle the depression and bi polar disorder that had threatened to consume
her three years ago. For beneath the surface, beyond the matters of souls
and duties and redemption, their hearts were the same. Alive in the night.

Their mutual love wasn't something either of them could fight or explain,
though the Gods knew she'd tried. And of all the things that were uncertain
and fleeting in this existence, Faith was still sure that Angelus loved her.

"I had to be sure."

Faith looked at Angelus as if he had just said "Purple monkey dishwasher
penis lights."

Angelus saw the confused and hateful look in his lover's eyes, and fought to
hold back his mirth. He wanted to laugh, he was, after all, an insensitive
dick. But then Faith might be too agressive to let him collar her tonight.

"I had to be sure that you're sliding down my cock all the live-long fuckin'
day", Angelus said, mockingly adopting a southern tone, "because you love me,
not cause you love the idea of beating her down."

"What? What are you talking about?" Buffy piped up, confused but sensing
something very unnatural was about to occur, and she could bet that it wasn't
going to lead to hugs and puppies. Well, at least not puppies.

"If I didn't love you so much, I'd kill you just for fun."

"Preachin' to the perverted, me lovely lass," Angelus said, using the
sweet Irish brogue he sometimes slipped into when he was either leisurely
humiliating Faith for kinks, or too horny to speak straight.

With that, Angelus's hand lashed out and in seconds, Faith was on the floor
with him. They spun over each other on the marble floor, each immune to
anything but the other's touch.

"Faith, get off of him!" Buffy squealed, in shock and horror as the pair
ripped at each other's clothes.

Angelus was incapable of love, she knew that. After all, he had tried to kill
her last time around, and everyone loved her. So it just didn't follow that
Angelus would love someone else, especially a raving bitch like Faith. This
could only lead to her death, and she didn't want to see another Slayer die,
no matter how useless to the mission.

"B...Buffy, be a dear, would you, go home...", Faith said in between heated,
ravenous kissing, "whatever... hotel, you' see you tomorrow..."

Angelus fought to control his ramming libido long enough to process what
Faith was saying. He couldn't let Buffy get out alive.

Faith writhed against her mate, fighting for dominance, then fighting to hold
him close, before she realized he was struggling to separate from her.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Faith asked him, confused. Did he not want to
fuck her? That was a first. In her lifetime. And it hurt, especially coming
from the one man - demon - male that she loved above all others.

"Sweet bitch," Angelus drawled, looking predatorily down at Faith, who still
lay on the floor in surprise and uncertainty.

Had to love that frail human quality. It was so cute.

"I was thinking more along the lines of us fucking over her dead body."

"Oh, my God," Buffy said in shock and disgust. Why was this happening?
Angelus actually cared for Faith?

"Oh, shut up," Angelus said with mild annoyance, "everything's a major
catastrophy with you. I'm the one who had to fuck you and put up with your
snivelling bullshit for all those years... oh wait, that was only three.
Two and a half if you count the time I managed to get away from you.
Whatever, the point is, I haven't even sliced your throat yet, and here
you are rambling ON!"

With that last word, Angelus's palm circled Buffy's neck, catching her in
a vice-like grip. Buffy delivered a swift high kick to his ribs. But she
wasn't surprised to find it barely made an imprint on his skin that was
fast fading already.

"How?" Buffy said, her word coming out in a throaty whisper as Angelus'
hand slowly crushed her windpipe.

"Buffy, you stupid ass. The soul is gone. I know it's, like, a major pitfall
for the villain to let the helpless victim in on the workings of his evil
existence, but I just can't help myself." Angelus sneered as he leaned in
close to Buffy's face and said, "You didn't really think if you could get the
soul back that you'd get your kicks back, did you?"

Buffy's eyes widened in fear. He knew. He'd known all along. How? Willow had
told her that if she could restore Angel's soul, the powers that be would
restore her powers. When the balance had been restored, many other things had
shifted to balance. Her powers had left her, to pass on to Faith until she
passed away. Buffy knew that Faith couldn't handle that. No matter how much
time in prison, how much rehabilitation she underwent, she would never be
able to handle the burden of being the Slayer, of making those split second
decisions of who died and who lived, of who she had to save just to keep her
own sanity. Her perverted love of Angelus, and the fact that she had somehow
gotten him to love her in return, proved that.

And now she would die. All the Sacredness of the Slayer line would end with
her. Her life was actually flashing before her eyes, things she had long
since forgotten about. Suddenly, it stopped abruptly. There was something she
had to know. Before she died.

"What does she have..." Buffy said, fighting to get the words out, "that I

"Besides tits? I can't explain it. But since you're dying and I'm just so
into these final moment scenes that are a really bad habit for evil
masterminds, I'll let you in on a secret. Angel loved you cause you were
human. That's it. He couldn't stand being a vampire. He couldn't stand
having a demon inside of him. He couldn't stand his own thoughts. And you
were nice and blonde and killed what he hated - but you told him he was
different. That's why. And I'm not surprised you have the intestinal matter
to ask me why, with my hand still wrapped around your endlessly vibrating
throat. You tried to take her power. And you tried to kill me. Aw, shit.
Where was this monologue going?", Angelus mused to himself aloud, tilting
his head as he tried to think of a 'poetic' ending for Buffy's life.

But now that he had Faith, he just didn't have time to pen Shakespeare.

"Oh, right. Die, bitch."

With that, Angelus crushed Buffy's throat, watching the light in her
horrified eyes die slowly.

The vampire dropped Buffy's limp corpse and released a satisfactory, purely
instinctive growl. He'd protected Faith, and yet his bitch would probably
give him alot of shit tonight; he might even have to let her dominate him.
The things he did for love.

He turned to face the spot where Faith had lain moments before, only to find
it empty.

For she'd left the moment she realized Buffy would always come first for
Angelus, even if it was because he was trying to kill her. Angelus didn't
bank on that.

You know, for a brilliant, sadistic vampire, I've gotta say that sometimes
he's dense.

So, anyway, he ran around like a chicken with it's head cut off and then he
found her in the garden. You'd think he'd just open the screen window and
walk into it, but he was all frantic 'n shit, so he followed her scent and
walked halfway through the mansion before he found her, waiting for him.
Naked. Screen doors are shitty for keeping sound out. As Buffy once said,
you know the drill. He looked at her, she looked at him, and they got it.
Buffy wasn't just out of their lives. She was out of their relationship.

And that's about the time they wrestled each other to the ground by the
bush of Jasminus Wyntarias and fucked like wild horny rabbits on the lush,
carpeting summer grass.

Where was I? Oh right, those two are hot, I gotta tell you. Maybe if I didn't
have this annoying habit of slipping into a monologue every time I think of
that pair of porn stars I could finally jerk off in under two hours. Later.


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