#thread:faith

Faith had been tracking this group all the way from the cemetery to the bar. It hadn’t been hard to make out that they were vamps. Two of them were wearing clothes no one under the age of 80 wanted to get caught dead in, and they didn’t look a day over 25. Yeah, it didn’t add up. 

‘Sides, Faith had become somewhat of an expert on how to sniff ‘em out. She had mad skills, after all, and then she wasn’t just talking about the way she could rock some guy’s world either. In this case, she was going to kick some major vamp ass and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her. And there was also no way this bunch of outdated losers was going to best her in a fight. 

Walking into the bar a little after the group did so she wouldn’t raise their suspicions, she scanned the bar quickly but in a way that suggested she was just looking for a quiet corner to settle down in. Only-- Quiet wasn’t Faith’s style. 

Having made out where they were seated, Faith moved to the opposite side of the bar. Enough distance to make it seem like she hadn’t even been aware of their presence there. Hearing a song come on, she grinned and started to sway her hips, moving to the bar. 

Turning the stake over and over in her hand, she put her heavy booted foot on a nearby tombstone and leaned back. “Bo-ring. I’m not gonna work up an appetite like this.” 

It wasn’t something she did. Sticking around after a crazy night of hot, wild sex to actually sleep. So if that’s what he thought she did, he couldn’t be more wrong. No, after their fucking, Faith had another need to fulfill. Slaying usually left her starving for both food and a good lay. With one crossed off her list, the brunette had found her way over to the wolf’s fridge, where she’d basically raided the entire thing. If anything, she’d expected there to be even more. Didn’t wolves have like insanely high metabolisms? 

After eating her fill, she’d figured she could do with a shower. And that’s where he found her, standing in front of the mirror, ready to wash any remnants of Alcide from her skin. But seeing him here now, she smirked. Why not go for round two before she got back on her way? 

"I brought burgers.” Faith announced as she walked into the house from the back door and dropped the bag on the kitchen counter before jumping onto the spot next to the bag. The brunette felt more comfy there than sitting at the kitchen table. Grabbing a burger herself, she peered into the living room, but didn’t see anyone. 

If there was one thing Faith couldn’t handle, it was rejection. And still, she had stupidly asked. For years, she had managed to keep herself from falling for someone, knowing people couldn’t be trusted. And men, least of all. 

But Angel was different. He had every quality she didn’t expect to find in a man, and he actually seemed to care about what happened to her. He wasn’t some sleazebag like those deadbeats she had known in the past. “But would you-- If things were different?” 

Her stomach turned. It sounded so pathetic to her own ears. Something occurred to her then though, and Faith swallowed. She had to keep her voice steady or she’d be betraying just how much his response had already scarred her. Not that she couldn’t handle another bruise or cut, but she’d rather he’d kick her ass for real than this. --The ultimate comparison and another way to proof that she could never mean as much to him as Buffy did. “It’s not like I’d make you that happy anyway, so why not? It could be wicked good. The two of us. And you wouldn’t have to worry about breaking me.”