Work Text:
Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.
Other Notes: This story, written for Riley's Girl, is supposed to take place at some point while Joyce is still alive but sick, Riley hasn't yet permanently left Sunnydale, and Faith has been imprisoned. All mistakes are mine. I love feedback.
Escape Routes
Riley mentally counts the locks clicking into place as the opaque gunmetal door seals behind him. It's reflex. Face a challenge head-on, but know your escape routes.
His challenge stares him down nonchalantly, stretching her legs out on the bed and leaning back against her palms. He locks his gaze with hers. Regardless of what anyone thinks, her body is foreign to him; he recognizes something in her eyes, though.
Faith jerks her head toward the door. "So I know you told them you're my husband." She crooks one finger -- not her ring finger -- at him. "What'd you tell Buffy?"
He stands still and lies because it doesn't matter. Buffy won't even notice his absence. "I'm running a recon mission. Meeting former military contacts with possible information on our current enemy."
"Oh, yeah? Some big bad she and her little gang can't handle without help, huh?" Her grin is sharp and dangerous, not that he would have expected anything else. Neither is the slow writhe of her hips a surprise. "And you're, what, here to torture me for information? Or you just wanna get conjugal, hubby?"
He lets his gaze follow her fingers as they lift her branded shirt, the most blatant reminder that she's just a caged animal.
"Maybe both," he says, even though he feels much less free than she looks right now.
She gets onto her knees on the bed and tugs down the prison-regulated pants. "Might as well start, then."
He steps closer to the bed and finds his limbs automatically snapping into at-ease position -- legs straight and slightly spread, hands clasped behind his back, head up. "We're not going to play this time either, you know."
"You're missing out."
"I'll take my chances."
"I figured. You're doing that just by coming. So get over here already." She grabs for his trousers. He lets her pull until he's climbing onto the bed.
He looks into her eyes again. That something is still there. It's familiar or just what he needs. "I'm not saying -- what I said last time -- again. It wouldn't be true."
Sliding her hands up his inner thighs, she doesn't ask how he means that. "Wouldn't want you to."
"Good."
She grins again, wider than before. "I'll bite this time, y'know."
Riley nods once and sets his jaw like another padlock on this cell. "I was hoping you would."
- end -