Just for fun.

Tied to a chair in the centre of a dimly lit room, blood trickling from his bound hands onto the floor. He had stopped struggling a few moments earlier, when the rope touched bone. The agony was exquisite, beyond any other torture. As a Watcher, Wesley was well versed in the darker ways of persuasion but this was something new, something much better.

She would be standing in the darkness, probably next to the window, watching him as he dipped in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he heard a footfall as she replaced a burnt out candle or a creak as she shifted her weight on the sill.

It was all so beautifully twisted. For anyone to enjoy breathing the blood-thick air, to taste metal with each inhalation... there had to be some reason. A sordid past - perhaps, a psychological problem, a mental disturbance. This was definitely not the conduct of someone from suburbia.

Always watching, never sullying the perfect scene with a misplaced word. It was her addiction as well as his, the blacker part of her soul cried out for his pain. To see him in the throes of ecstasy was to watch him die a hundred times, she knew.

Here was a man darker than she could ever have dreamt, someone with just as much blood - yet he far more willing to see it spilled. The lightness of the process was like a drug. A warm feeling that started with the first cut and ended as she licked his wounds.

She eyed him from the darkness, watching as his life drained away and his eyes fluttered. It was almost to good to stop. If he died, it'd all come to an end and there would be too many questions. Hesitantly, she stepped forwards and cut his bonds with the ever present knife.

A couple of weeks to recover and they could start again.

Faith and Wesley.

Just for fun.