Wesely/Faith ficlet
Sun, Jun. 17th, 2007 12:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alwaysjbjWritten for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
still_grrr
Title Love Me Back to Life
Author Always_jbj
Rating PG
Word Count 964
Characters/Pairing (if any) Wesley/Faith
Thank you to Slaymesoftly for beta'ing
AN: A few glimpses into the backstory of my Wes and Faith from one of the worlds in A Grain of Sand.
In this world Spike wasn't there for the battle against the First, Willow didn't do the spell to turn the Potentials into Slayers, Angel wore the amulet, and both Angel and Buffy died in the Hellmouth. I think that's about all that's needed in order to understand what's going on. So this is a series of glimpses into Wes and Faith's life during the 8 months after 'Chosen' and before A Grain of Sand
He watched as she staggered and dropped to her knees; the ragged wail that sounded from behind broken and bleeding hands tore at him and he stumbled back to her side.
“Get up,” he told her, tugging uselessly on her arm as she continued to keen. “Faith, you have to…” His pleas grew more urgent as he watched the school collapse in on itself.
“Just go…” she mumbled, dashing away the tears.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he told her, drawing himself up straight despite his exhaustion. “If you insist on staying here, I’m staying with you.”
A quiet hum built to a thunderous roar; the ground trembled around them as the shock waves spread, fanning outwards from the gutted remains of the Hellmouth.
“You’ll die,” Faith pointed out.
“I’d say that’s a reasonable assessment,” he responded dryly.
“Why?” She climbed to her feet, confusion and pain creasing her brow.
“You’re my slayer,” Wesley answered, reaching out to steady her as she wavered. “Now if you would like to continue this discussion, might I suggest we do so at a later date?”
“Wesley?”
“Yes?”
“Stop talking, and start running.” Faith’s hand fastened vice-like around his wrist, dragging him in her wake.
~*~
He lay awake, listening to the sounds of grief that her pillow couldn’t quite muffle. He’d been roused by that first strangled cry as she awoke from her nightmare; Angel’s name echoing in the empty halls.
They’d both lost so much that day, but he liked to think they’d found something, too.
His first tenure as Faith’s watcher had been an abysmal failure; now—for reasons he wasn’t quite sure he fathomed, and was none-too-sure Faith did either—she’d given him a second chance, holding firm against Giles’ insistence that as the sole slayer she should accompany him to London to assist in rebuilding the Council. That she’d chosen to stay in Los Angeles continuing Angel’s work hadn’t surprised him, that she’d quickly announced that he would be staying with her as her watcher, had.
He wasn’t sure why she’d entrusted him with such a task, but he knew that this time he wouldn’t fail her.
~*~
The first night that she came to his room he’d been surprised—elated, but surprised none-the-less.
She’d stood in the doorway, looking so lost and alone—fragile. He’d spoken her name, keeping his voice low so as not to startle her. The next thing he’d known his arms were filled with a quietly sobbing slayer. She’d clung to him like a frightened child and he’d soothed her, stroking her hair and mumbling nonsense until she’d finally relaxed, curling around him as she surrendered to sleep.
He carefully manoeuvred the covers out from under the sleeping slayer, and after settling her once more, he pulled them up, smoothing them gently around her shoulders.
He continued to stroke her hair, until the warmth of her body and her soft, even breath lulled him once more toward slumber.
~*~
“Man, that was…”
“Yes, I must say, it was rather… wasn’t it?” Wesley smiled affectionately at his slayer. She’d come such a long way from the troubled girl she’d been, to the confident young woman she was now.
“Wanna go again?” Faith looked hopefully at him through half lowered lashes.
“I’m afraid you will have to give me a few moments to recover,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “Not all of us have slayer stamina, my dear.”
Faith laughed happily, and he marvelled again at the changes in her. “That’s okay, Wes, take all the time you need.” She lowered her sword.
~*~
She was magnificent. Her breath came in ragged gasps, dishevelled hair hanging in damp strands across her blood-splattered face, and eyes gleaming with excitement as she stood calf-deep in sewerage; he’d never seen anything more beautiful!
Two long strides carried him to her side, and before he could stop to question the wisdom of his actions he had claimed her lips. Her lips parted, her tongue meeting his with equal fervour. He moaned as she pressed against him, clutching at him desperately. Cupping her face with one hand, he allowed the other to slide up to bury in the thick chestnut mane.
“Home,” she demanded, breaking the kiss and reaching for his hand. “Shower, bed and food—in that order,” she added, tugging him towards the tunnel entrance.
~*~
“Whatya doing?” Faith asked, coming up behind his chair, her arms wrapping around him as her chin came to rest on his shoulder.
“Hmm?” Dropping the book to his lap, he turned to accept a kiss, blinking to clear tired eyes.
“I asked what you’re doing,” Faith repeated, moving to perch on the arm of the chair.
“Giles phoned while you were out. He wants us to look into a recent spate of robberies.”
“Robberies? I thought that’s what the cops were for.”
“Ordinarily, yes. However, this appears to be more our area of expertise. Rare books. More specifically, rare—and potentially dangerous—spell books. Rupert is requesting, our—or your—assistance. Lorne said he’d keep an eye on things while we’re gone.”
“So where we going?”
“London.”
Faith frowned. “You sure this isn’t just his way of trying to get us—me—back where the Council can keep tabs on us?”
“No, I’m not sure. But that won’t be happening. We go, do the job and then we come home,” he assured her.
She nodded, the small frown deepening. “Yeah, of course.”
“Faith?” Wesley rose, gently brushing the hair off her face as he spoke. “This is my home. Here, with you. Not London, and not the Council. We’re coming back, I promise.”
She smiled, nodding. “Just see you remember that, or I’ll kick your ass, ‘kay?”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied with a laugh.
still_grrrTitle Love Me Back to Life
Author Always_jbj
Rating PG
Word Count 964
Characters/Pairing (if any) Wesley/Faith
Thank you to Slaymesoftly for beta'ing
AN: A few glimpses into the backstory of my Wes and Faith from one of the worlds in A Grain of Sand.
In this world Spike wasn't there for the battle against the First, Willow didn't do the spell to turn the Potentials into Slayers, Angel wore the amulet, and both Angel and Buffy died in the Hellmouth. I think that's about all that's needed in order to understand what's going on. So this is a series of glimpses into Wes and Faith's life during the 8 months after 'Chosen' and before A Grain of Sand
He watched as she staggered and dropped to her knees; the ragged wail that sounded from behind broken and bleeding hands tore at him and he stumbled back to her side.
“Get up,” he told her, tugging uselessly on her arm as she continued to keen. “Faith, you have to…” His pleas grew more urgent as he watched the school collapse in on itself.
“Just go…” she mumbled, dashing away the tears.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he told her, drawing himself up straight despite his exhaustion. “If you insist on staying here, I’m staying with you.”
A quiet hum built to a thunderous roar; the ground trembled around them as the shock waves spread, fanning outwards from the gutted remains of the Hellmouth.
“You’ll die,” Faith pointed out.
“I’d say that’s a reasonable assessment,” he responded dryly.
“Why?” She climbed to her feet, confusion and pain creasing her brow.
“You’re my slayer,” Wesley answered, reaching out to steady her as she wavered. “Now if you would like to continue this discussion, might I suggest we do so at a later date?”
“Wesley?”
“Yes?”
“Stop talking, and start running.” Faith’s hand fastened vice-like around his wrist, dragging him in her wake.
~*~
He lay awake, listening to the sounds of grief that her pillow couldn’t quite muffle. He’d been roused by that first strangled cry as she awoke from her nightmare; Angel’s name echoing in the empty halls.
They’d both lost so much that day, but he liked to think they’d found something, too.
His first tenure as Faith’s watcher had been an abysmal failure; now—for reasons he wasn’t quite sure he fathomed, and was none-too-sure Faith did either—she’d given him a second chance, holding firm against Giles’ insistence that as the sole slayer she should accompany him to London to assist in rebuilding the Council. That she’d chosen to stay in Los Angeles continuing Angel’s work hadn’t surprised him, that she’d quickly announced that he would be staying with her as her watcher, had.
He wasn’t sure why she’d entrusted him with such a task, but he knew that this time he wouldn’t fail her.
~*~
The first night that she came to his room he’d been surprised—elated, but surprised none-the-less.
She’d stood in the doorway, looking so lost and alone—fragile. He’d spoken her name, keeping his voice low so as not to startle her. The next thing he’d known his arms were filled with a quietly sobbing slayer. She’d clung to him like a frightened child and he’d soothed her, stroking her hair and mumbling nonsense until she’d finally relaxed, curling around him as she surrendered to sleep.
He carefully manoeuvred the covers out from under the sleeping slayer, and after settling her once more, he pulled them up, smoothing them gently around her shoulders.
He continued to stroke her hair, until the warmth of her body and her soft, even breath lulled him once more toward slumber.
~*~
“Man, that was…”
“Yes, I must say, it was rather… wasn’t it?” Wesley smiled affectionately at his slayer. She’d come such a long way from the troubled girl she’d been, to the confident young woman she was now.
“Wanna go again?” Faith looked hopefully at him through half lowered lashes.
“I’m afraid you will have to give me a few moments to recover,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “Not all of us have slayer stamina, my dear.”
Faith laughed happily, and he marvelled again at the changes in her. “That’s okay, Wes, take all the time you need.” She lowered her sword.
~*~
She was magnificent. Her breath came in ragged gasps, dishevelled hair hanging in damp strands across her blood-splattered face, and eyes gleaming with excitement as she stood calf-deep in sewerage; he’d never seen anything more beautiful!
Two long strides carried him to her side, and before he could stop to question the wisdom of his actions he had claimed her lips. Her lips parted, her tongue meeting his with equal fervour. He moaned as she pressed against him, clutching at him desperately. Cupping her face with one hand, he allowed the other to slide up to bury in the thick chestnut mane.
“Home,” she demanded, breaking the kiss and reaching for his hand. “Shower, bed and food—in that order,” she added, tugging him towards the tunnel entrance.
~*~
“Whatya doing?” Faith asked, coming up behind his chair, her arms wrapping around him as her chin came to rest on his shoulder.
“Hmm?” Dropping the book to his lap, he turned to accept a kiss, blinking to clear tired eyes.
“I asked what you’re doing,” Faith repeated, moving to perch on the arm of the chair.
“Giles phoned while you were out. He wants us to look into a recent spate of robberies.”
“Robberies? I thought that’s what the cops were for.”
“Ordinarily, yes. However, this appears to be more our area of expertise. Rare books. More specifically, rare—and potentially dangerous—spell books. Rupert is requesting, our—or your—assistance. Lorne said he’d keep an eye on things while we’re gone.”
“So where we going?”
“London.”
Faith frowned. “You sure this isn’t just his way of trying to get us—me—back where the Council can keep tabs on us?”
“No, I’m not sure. But that won’t be happening. We go, do the job and then we come home,” he assured her.
She nodded, the small frown deepening. “Yeah, of course.”
“Faith?” Wesley rose, gently brushing the hair off her face as he spoke. “This is my home. Here, with you. Not London, and not the Council. We’re coming back, I promise.”
She smiled, nodding. “Just see you remember that, or I’ll kick your ass, ‘kay?”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied with a laugh.
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Date: 18/6/07 12:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 18/6/07 12:26 am (UTC)Warning: Sand is a wip.
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