#fayevalentine01

    Spike returned home after a job gone awry. He was supposed to capture this big time crime boss and bring him back to Brooklyn when a couple of his guys cut him loose, and Spike took a bullet to the arm and shoulder. He was still leaving a blood trail behind him when he made his way back to Manhattan. He had medical supplies and herbs at his house that would help with the healing but passed out in the street before he could even make it to his building.

        When he came to, he could see a figure looming over him; coming in and out of sight. Spike being Spike, didn’t trust this person and so instead of waiting to see if this person was helping him– or something else, Spike immediately went for their neck and squeezed their throat with his bare hand. “Hands off, you bastard.”

[ faye valentine ]

 Faye wasn’t aimlessly wandering around the area when she found her fellow guild member laying in the street. Spike was lucky that his shower had better water pressure, enough for his place to have become the new hangout spot as of late. Nearing closer, she’d assumed he was trashed, and being his usual idiot self. Spike’s passed out figure was just as unsightly as any other hobo, rodent or street-rat that occupied the streets. Only, there was blood. Faye’s nonchalant disposition suddenly shifted. A tightened panic raced through her blood now that she realized his fate was uncertain.  “Hey-” She approached, noticeably frantic in the way she spoke and moved. Faye didn’t bother to dodge the blood, stepping her heels past to give one single nudge with her foot. She exhaled before bending to her knees to check for a pulse. And just as her hand extended, Hugo had snapped with a reflexive strangle-hold at her neck. It prevented her from the scream of words that became inaudible by his grip.

Taken by surprise, she had hesitated one second too long, leading to an uninhibited fire dagger drawn from her fist. “Get off-!” She attempted in muffled sound, drawing strength with her animating cast of magic. The small flames jetted like a blowtorch when Faye struggled to attack within any close-range of Spike’s arms, or body that she could hit. Given the lack of power from the sun to draw from, her attacks were weaker, but easily did the job. Stepping back, she desperately gasped in between coughs for air, while simultaneously trying to keep the fire lit for defense. Faye eyed him up and down, finally catching her breath a few moments later. The witch forced away her panic, adamant on not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that she’d been scared for even a second. “You know, a simple ‘thank you for saving my tail’ would’ve sufficed.” The tone and attitude restored her usual countenance. “And don’t flatter yourself, thinking everyone’s after you.” She taunted in a somewhat belittling manner, waiting for him to get to his feet. Faye kept in mind he’d been wounded. However, insisted on waiting to get a better look or have him clarify it before jumping to conclusions or showing any worry. So, she continued the banter like any old day. “Your head’s worth what, a solid fifty dollars? Remember that for next time, Rambo.”