The Might of Me

Author: Carm

Feedback: CarmieMcMahon@aol.com

Disclaimers: Randy belongs to Vince.  Faith belongs to Joss.

Rating: NC-17

Summary: The Slayer meets the Legend Killer for a one night stand with no names and no commitments.

 

She'd been moving since the destruction of Sunnydale. Always on the go, always looking for something to keep her adrenaline. Looking for a way to escape the domestic camaraderie that they the goody-goodies kept trying to push on her. Didn't they get it? She wasn't one of them. She wasn't going to follow her like some great leader when half the time, all she did was get them in trouble. She may not have been quite as sadistic as she used to be, but she certainly wasn't about to climb in the Mystery Machine and run off to slay, hopped up on Scooby Snacks or whatever the hell gave them their big smiles and saccharine hugs.

Faith was the rogue Slayer. It was her identity, just as much as Willow was the Witch, Xander was the One-Eyed Wonder, and Buffy was the so-called Chosen One. She was the one that had to be watched because they never knew if she was going to revert to her old ways. She was the one constantly followed by Andrew in his ever-annoying quest to follow in Giles's footsteps. She was the rebel, the lone wolf, and there was no way to be that with them watching her.

So... she left. She abandoned the gang and her roll in the hay, Wood, and hit the road. She didn't need them to fight vampires. She'd done it just fine on her own, and as far as she was concerned, she could do it again. Not like there was much of a Chosen One, anyway. At least when it was the idea that her death would call another Slayer, she understood the necessity of a Watcher, someone to keep her alive as long as possible. With that idea gone to shit, the thought of possibly dying at the hands of her enemy was just another reason to push her on. Another high for her to experience.

Who needed Buffy and her merry band of butt lickers? Faith was a Slayer with an axe to grind and a bad attitude. That was all she needed to succeed. It was all she needed to fight the so-called ‘good fight' against the vampires.

*****

Randy Orton looked around and wondered where the hell he was. He remembered leaving the bar with a chick. He was drunk enough that chasing her down the street felt like a game. It was something to get his blood pumping. Something to get him more excited for what was to come. It was all a part of the foreplay and it would only make the real thing even better.

But, somewhere between the bar and the park, she'd disappeared. It was strange, because he could have sworn he'd been right behind her the entire time. What was even stranger, he could hear her laughing somewhere near. Was she hiding behind a tree? He leaned back and felt the abrasive scrape of bark and groaned. "Fuck," he muttered, "am I hiding behind a tree?"

They had told him not to drink so much, and it had been sound advice, but when did he ever listen? He was the Legend Killer, Randy Orton. He was bound to follow Triple H's footsteps to glory and gold. He didn't need to listen to anybody. Though, the way his head ached, he thought he might consider it a little more the next time.

However, that was next time, and this time, there was only one thing to consider...

"May!" He paused. "No, shit... Mel? No... Manda? Shit! I know it starts with an M. Mai? Fuck it." He groaned. "Whatever your name is... where the hell are you!"

*****

She heard the shouts a split second before she felt the pull. Even when she'd been temporarily evil, Faith had never been able to fight the draw of an area highly dense with vamps. It was a twisting in her gut, a mixture of queasiness and cramping. It told her that her enemy was somewhere in the area, and the closer she got to it, the feeling spread throughout her body until everything was twisting and jerking her around.

Faith was pulled into the park, towards the shouts. She could tell just from the voice that whoever the guy was, he had to have been drunk off his ass. It wasn't the slurred words so much as the fact that he was on the sixth name that started with M and he still hadn't figured it out.

"That's men for ya," she grumbled, stalking forward. "Probably couldn't remember her name sober, either."

She pressed on, her hand wrapped tightly against the squared end of a stake. The wood felt good in her hands. It felt comfortable and safe. She hadn't felt like that since parting ways with Angel, and even then, the calming effect that he usually had on her wasn't that great. Of course, that should have been expected since she had just battled his darker half.

She was starting to wonder if maybe she should take a trip out Los Angeles way for a visit when she felt the vampires moving in. The man ahead was in the middle of a clearing and the moon shined down on him like a spotlight. He was the star of this show, and the name of it was Guess Who's Coming To Dinner... literally.

His shirt was open and for a second, her libido gave her pause. He had a nice chest, illuminated in the moonlight. His abs were tight and clearly visible in the glow. "Damn," she muttered, "I've gotta get laid." She shook her head and moved forward. The vampires were coming closer to him, and this was no time to think about her sex drive. Though, she did take a second to wonder just how grateful this hot guy would be when it was all over. After all, he had been horny enough to follow a random chick into a park. Maybe a good bit adrenaline rush would give him an extra boost.

*****

"You have got to be kidding me." Randy's head swung around as fast as his drunken state would allow. The chick he'd followed (he still couldn't remember her name) was coming closer and she wasn't alone. Three men came with her, all from different directions. "I have got to not drink so fucking much."

They moved closer and he knew that it was time for him to leave the Jager alone. He was having hallucinations. The eyes that focused on him were bright yellow. What's-Her-Name no longer had model features and kissable lips. Just like the men coming from all corners, her brow was ridged and her eyebrows had disappeared in the heaving lumps that protruded from her face. Fangs... Was it really? Yes, fangs, pressed against her bottom lip.

"If Jager does this, I don't even wanna know what an acid trip does," he muttered as he tried to draw himself up. He didn't usually hit a woman, but the way she was coming towards him, she had something dangerous in mind. He wasn't about to let some ugly bitch get the drop on him. Drunk or not, he'd do his best to take them all on before the sad excuse for police in that town decided to show up.

They hissed... Hissed? Randy looked again and was barely able to confirm the thought that yes, these people had hissed, when they rushed him. This was a lot different than playing a game of four on one in the wrestling ring. In there, he knew what directions the others were coming from and what they were tossing his way. Here, there was nothing for him to do but try to act on inebriated instincts.

Randy struck out. His fist connected with the woman's face. She reeled back, but rushed right at him again. "What the hell!" He was sure that should have broken her jaw. He didn't have time to think about it, though, as the others grabbed him. He fought, jerking his body wildly. One of the men released him and as soon as his arm was free, he brought his forearm up into his face. Yet, no matter how hard he fought, they kept coming back and their mouths were open. Definitely fangs. Definitely weird. Definitely, no more Jagermeister and Cristal.

"Get the fuck away from me, you freaks!"

*****

And then, the Slayer was johnny-on-the-spot. She saw him get a few hits in, pretty solid shots, she thought. If they were regular people, he'd have been able to take him, but she knew that without her super Slayer strength, he was toast. Faith ran up behind the woman and grabbed her by the blonde hair. The vamp was decked out in party-time best, complete with black heeled boots and tight, low-riding pants.

"Hey." Faith winked at her. "Can I play?" She rammed the stake into her chest and the vamp exploded. Dust settled on her clothes and Faith brushed it off quickly. "Ugh... that's gonna wreak havoc on my dry cleaning bill."

She shook herself and looked up as eyes were heavily turned on her. The dumbass who'd stumbled drunk into the park was down. His shirt was torn from his body and his belt was broken. Blood leaked down from a wound in his shoulder that looked to Faith like a bite wound. Not exactly five-by-five, but at least he was alive, which was more than could be said about most who would have been in his predicament.

The vamp to her left growled and she turned to him. In vamp face, they all looked the same except for their hair. The one who growled had greasy black hair hanging to his shoulders. The one in the center was bald. The one to the right had short cropped blonde hair.

"Is it eeny meeny miney moe? Or Larry, Curly and Moe?"

"Slayer," Baldilocks spat out. "You're dead!"

"Right on the first, not so much on the second. But, uh, could we skip all the witty banter? That's B's thing. I'd rather just kill something and... I think I'll start with you."

In seamless motion, Faith reached back, pulled a slim wooden stake out from under her shirt and threw it straight into Baldilocks's heart. He exploded in dust and she grinned. "Cool! I was wondering if that was gonna..." Her words cut off as Greasy and Blondie jumped at her.

She leaped up over Greasy, but Blondie caught her by the feet and swung her around. Faith's back hit a tree and the air was forced out of her lungs as she slid to the ground. Splinters of wood scratched her back and she felt her remaining three thin stakes break. That wasn't good. It meant she was left with two vamps one stake and a hot guy with a vamp bite.

Then again, it might have been pretty good after all.

*****

Randy watched in amazement as two people just disappeared into dust. He was even more in awe when he saw this dark-haired woman hit a tree after being thrown a good twenty feet and jump right back up. And had that one guy called her Slayer? What the hell was a Slayer?

He shook his head. "This hallucination has gotta end, already," he muttered, trying to his feet. He planted his hand and tried to push himself up. A pain in his shoulder made him remember that there was an actual bite there. "That bitch... it's a damn good thing she's dust!" He put his hand tentatively to his shoulder and winced. "That's gonna get infected. Do you know how dirty the human mouth is!"

"How about you shut up and give me a hand, huh?" He looked up as the woman called Slayer shouted at him. No one yelled at him like that, especially not some random part of his Jager and Cristal hallucinations. He would have told her to fuck off if he thought she could hear him. At the moment, she was fighting in hand-to-hand combat with a guy that was about as big as Batista and as ugly as Kane.

Randy stood up and muttered, "Fuck this shit." He shook his head and started to turn, but was stopped by a wave of dizziness. He looked down his chest to the blood. How deep had that bite been? It couldn't have been that much blood. He'd lost more than that in matches. No, it had to be the liquor.

He figured it also had to be the liquor that made him think that his hallucination Slayer was extremely hot. As she fought, her hair whipped into her face. She threw her head back to reveal dark eyes and lips luscious with dark lipstick. Her shirt rose up and the sight of her tight stomach aroused him. She executed a standing backflip and her breasts bounced.

Looking at her, watching her, Randy found himself moving closer to her instead of moving away. It was his hallucination, after all, his too-realistic bad dream. He might as well try and get some action out of the whole thing. Or at least give it a shot.

*****

Faith ran forward, then jumped up until she was able to plant her foot against the trunk of a tree. She ran up the side and flipped over backwards. Though she went over Greasy's head, Blonde was waiting to grab her from behind as she landed. She still held her stake, but it wasn't doing her much good at the moment. She pushed backwards with her body and threw her feet up. She hooked her ankles around Greasy's head and squeezed.

It was time to find out just how much strength a Slayer really had. Faith had torn out her fair share of vamp hearts and broken a demon neck or two, but a true beheading without a weapon... theoretically, she guessed she should have been able to do it. But practically... She squeezed, twisted, then jerked her body to the left. Greasy's head went flying and Faith's black pants were suddenly caked with dust. Gross, but effective.

"Let's see those activated teenyboppers do that shit!"

Suddenly, Faith was filled with an excitement that she had felt since she first arrived on the scene in Sunnydale. Though she still enjoyed a night of slayage, there had been too much over the years for it to truly bring her joy. Too much guilt and anger and too many attempts at redemption. Now, though, she had a new trick. One she didn't have to share with anybody. She could be as selfish as she wanted to be and pretend that she was still the Chosen One. She was still the one that was really called and not just brought to power by some whacked out spell. She was special. "Let's see B do that!"

Faith powered out of the arms holding her and spun around. Her feet and hands were fast as they pushed the vamp back. Blondie swung at her with either arm and she ducked both swings. Her hair whipped into her face as she came back up. Her stake had been tucked into her pants the second she got free, but she pulled it back out as she spun, jumped and kicked Blondie backwards. He stumbled over his feet and fell. The second he was back on his feet, Faith tossed the stake and it buried itself right into his heart. He blew up in a whirl of dust and the stake dropped to the ground.

Faith bounded over and retrieved her stake then whirled around. "Oh, man! Now that was a rush!" She jumped up to see the intended victim of the night walking towards her. She was filled with energy of all kinds and she felt like the old Faith again, crazy and excited. She wanted to do what the old Faith had always wanted to do after a few kills. She wanted to get down and dirty and there was a hot guy standing feet away from her.

*****

"What the hell just happened?"

She shrugged. "What do you think happened?"

"Ya know what..." Randy stopped for a minute. What did he think had happened? A hot chick had come out and saved him from four vampires? That was not likely and he damn sure wasn't going to repeat that to anyone else. "I don't think I really care."

"Neither do I."

She walked towards him with a heat in her eyes that Randy couldn't possibly mistake as anything other than lust. She'd just been in a fight for the record books and instead of being tired, she looked like she wanted to get laid. Hell, he had just watched a fight for the record books and he wanted to get laid. Looking at her as she walked towards him, he could feel himself trying to burst out of his pants. He was horny when the night started and, dammit, bleeding or not, he was still horny.

She stepped up to him and put her hand on his chest. When she pulled back, she left a print in the blood. She didn't look at her hand in disgust. She just smirked. Randy grinned. Something was seriously wrong with this chick, but damned if her psychosis wasn't a turn on.

"How about we do something about that?" She looked down to his pants. "And that."

Randy smirked. "Sounds like a plan to me."

She threw one arm around his neck and yanked his head down hard enough that Randy thought he'd have whiplash. She crushed his lips with hers, then forced her tongue into his mouth for a quick swish before pulling back. "My hotel room or yours?"

*****

It turned out to be his. Faith's keen breaking and entering skills got them into the hotel from the back to avoid being seen by anyone he knew. They took a service elevator up and were on each other before the door to the hotel room closed. He pressed Faith against the door and kissed her hard, returning the favor of the pecker-jumping kiss she'd given him in the park. She reached around and pulled her nails down his back.

Faith pushed him back hard enough to make him stumble. She looked at him and smirked. "Now, look, guy. You gotta get clean before you get dirty." She tore off her shirt and threw it to the floor. She stripped off the rest of her clothes quickly, then ran into the bathroom. They showered fast and fucked even faster. Faith hadn't been laid since Robin Wood and though the guy had been able to make his body do tricks, they were nothing compared to this guy.

Back in the bedroom, still dripping from the shower, they fell onto the bed. He flipped her, spun her and moved so fast, that it made her head spin. "What the hell..."

He smirked. "Wrestling makes a guy agile as hell."

"Wrestling, huh? Well... if that's the case, you can watch me get the pin. You ain't got shit on me, kid."

Faith winked at him, then wrapped her legs tight around his waist. She flipped him over, then landed on top. She grabbed his wrists and held them down as kissed him hard. She ran her lips down to his navel, then her tongue over the rest of him. He groaned. He cried out. He grabbed her hair and pulled her back up to him, then flipped her over again.

They rolled and played games of dominance until a couple of hours before the sun came up. She tired him out, then as soon as he passed out, Faith grabbed her clothes and redressed. This was how she liked it. No attachments. Nobody to answer to. Just herself, her whims and her own asskicking ways out in the dark of night. She didn't even know the guy's name and she didn't care. She'd had a damn good time and given him an even better one.

Revived and feeling like herself again, Faith walked out of the room, twirling her stake through her fingers. It wasn't just time to move to a new town, it was time to move to more fun, a new life. Faith's head was back in the game and to think... it only took a night of outrageous sex after learning a new Slayer trick to set her free.

Fuck the Scooby Gang. Faith had enough in her to take on every evil thing in the world.

*****

Randy woke up the next morning with a splitting headache only made worse by the banging on the door. "Chill, already!" He sat up and winced. His head turned to the side and he saw the bite mark on his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding long ago, obvious from the scab growing over it, and in the light of day, it didn't look as bad as it had before. He'd have to get a bandage, but it wouldn't need stitches.

The banging sounded again and he growled. "Alright, already!" He stood up and started to the door, then realized he was naked. "Fuck," he muttered as he ripped the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around his waist. He stalked to the door and jerked it open. "What the fuck, man?"

"That's what I should be asking you." Dave Batista groaned and shook his head. "Everybody's leaving and you're not even dressed? What the hell, man? And... what happened to your shoulder?"

Randy looked at him and shrugged. He couldn't remember much of anything after the club. He knew he had drank a lot, and from the feel of things, he knew he'd gotten laid, but damned if he could remember what he'd drank, how much and who he'd brought back to his room. It obviously couldn't have mattered that much since she was already gone.

"Randy! What the fuck happened, man? You left with some chick and..."

Randy smirked and shook his head. "Man, I don't have a clue, but whatever it was..." He brushed at the bite on his shoulder, then gestured around to the cluttered room. Chairs were knocked over. A lamp was broken on the floor. It looked like a rioting mob had run through the place. "...damn, if it wasn't the best goddamned time of my life, man! Fuck it all, though, I really wish I could remember it, ‘cause whoever that chick was..." He shook his head and laughed. "One mighty strong and crazy chick she was. If only I could fucking remember it..."

...

 

 

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