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Sinned Against, or,
Seven Ways in which Faith is Not Like Buffy

By The Last Good Name Left


As opposed to the seven corporal works of mercy or the seven heavenly virtues, the seven contrary virtues are specific contrasts to the combat the seven deadly sins: kindness against envy, abstinence against gluttony, diligence against sloth, liberality against greed, chastity against lust, humility against pride, and patience against anger.


Sometimes Faith volunteered at the library, shelving books. She would have liked to help read to the little kids that come in after school, but that was the librarian's job, and Faith didn't read well. Faith took copies of Eloise and Dr. Seuss and all the rest, and carefully put them back where they belonged. When the little kids came in tomorrow, they would be able to find the books they wanted. The librarians never asked why Faith wasn't in school, they just smiled at her and let her shelve or read comic books. They always gave her Christmas cookies.


Faith knew what it was like to be hungry. She knew intimately the feel of her stomach contracting in on itself, grinding with desire for food. She also knew what came afterward, when the hunger is so much a part of her that she couldn't eat even if a feast was laid out in front of her. Even once there is food regularly available, she always stopped eating before she was completely full, to remind herself of her past. Slayers eat more than other people, she had found, and she was careful not to eat too much, to stay hungry.


Faith kept running because she had no other choice. Mile after mile, across hills and valleys and through rivers and forests. If she stopped for even one minute, he might find her, and after what he did to her Watcher, and what she did to him, she didn't want to know what else he'd do to her. Besides, when she was exhausted from running, she didn't dream. Even when she was running, she slayed every night. Not because she thought she could save anyone – she couldn't even save her Watcher – but because she was a Slayer, and a Slayer slayed.


Faith liked to give, and give, and give. She loved to lick, and suck, and touch. She loved to please. The first thing she did when she woke up from her coma was find someone to give to. She gave a boy a blowjob, a warm cunt for his cock, and the best orgasm he'd ever had. She gave a girl an easy experiment, a soft tongue on her clit, and the best orgasm she'd ever had. She gave them hope that they could score a woman like her again. She gave them confidence and pleasure and a nice memory.


When Faith fantasized in prison, she imagined cuddling. She imagined a quiet night in front of a fire curled up under a cozy blanket. She imagined cups of hot chocolate, soft conversation, and holding hands with someone she trusted. Faith imagined lazy mornings in thin winter sunshine, watching the frost on the windows clear. Faith imagined getting up, freezing her toes and losing her slippers, listening to dramatic complaints about the cold; Faith imagined climbing back into bed with two cups of hot coffee and snuggling up again, pressing her cold toes against her lover's warm calves. Faith imagined comfort.


Faith wasn't the best, she never had been, and she knew it. She wasn't the one that people turned to when they had a problem, wasn't the one that people confided in, wasn't even the one that mothers loved. She had never been first for anything, not her clothes or her mother's love or even her destined calling. That was okay, usually. It was the way it was, and even if she wasn't the best, she was one of the good guys. When the good guys needed her again, they would ask, and she would go fight the good fight.


Faith liked to wait for a fight to develop. She wasn't against beating the shit out of anything that looked at her wrong, but she also liked to play with them, wait for them to make the first move, or moves, and tease them. Hit 'em a few times, and then let them get up so she could hit them again. There's a lovely grace to letting a fight develop at its own pace, to waiting out an opponent's really dumb decisions and schemes. This time, Faith won't rise to Buffy's bait. Let Buffy make her own mistakes this time.

The End

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