Kiwikatipo

kiwikatipo @ 2008-08-04T20:09:00

2008-08-04T08:10:27Z

If there are one or more people on your friends list who make your world a better place just because they exist, and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the Internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.

SS2: What a wicked game you play to make me feel this way

2008-04-13T01:45:36Z

Boston, January, 2006,

For a girl who just broke up with her boyfriend she seemed completely emotionally unscathed.

It took the time spent to drain a highball for Sam to suddenly worry that Annabel who now went by the moniker ‘Faith’ might be on to them.

One minute she’d been sleazing all over Dean and the next moment she leaned against him, her body lean and supple. Her breasts contained against the laws of physics in a low cut reddish silky top, were soft and squishing pleasantly against his sweater clad arm.

He towered over her, she wasn’t a perfect fit like Jess and she smelled of cigarettes - yuck.

Blonde, kind, sweet, fun-loving Jessica couldn’t be replaced and Sam didn’t want to replace her.

“Sam-the-man,” Faith’s eyes were hooded, brown and staring up at him invitingly. “Why don’t you and Deano both come back to my place?”

“Little early for coffee isn’t it?” Sam shifted his body so Faith no longer touched him. It made sense if she turned out to be a demon because physically the woman disturbed the hell out of him.

He kept imagining taking Faith hard and fast in the bar’s restroom which could make her a succubus or something else unnatural that dropped their G’s and made grieving guys horny.

“Who said anything about coffee?” Faith’s tone promised decadent delights and held a slightly lowered inflection which implied he lacked gray matter.

Therefore Sam wasn’t fooled by her sensuous implication; she didn’t seem dumb enough or wasted enough to expect that he and Dean (being, hello, brothers) would want to screw the same woman at the same time.

Which meant Faith wanted Sam and Dean to leave the bar with her so she could murder them. Maybe as part of her monster modus operandi she’d need to copulate with them first before she tried to kill them?

God-damnit, now he was picturing himself screwing her again. He glowered at her.

“Sorry, sweetness but he’ll have to take a rain check. Sammy here has an interview at Harvard tomorrow like we said, needs to be all early bird catches a worm, can you handle just me?” Dean could always be counted on to come across as a randy hound dog convincingly – method acting on his part. Sam noted Dean even had his arm draped around Faith’s bare shoulders as he spoke, tracing invisible circles with his thumb on her skin. Her shoulders were smooth, flawless.

Sam hoped Dean washed his hands afterwards, because the chick was clearly an unclean entity. Sam identified as being a liberal who loved women, yet the words ‘jezebel’ and ‘harlot’ kept coming to the fore in his mind when he conversed with Faith, which either must make him some archaic dick or Faith evil. Jess was sexy, sure, but Jess never wore pants so tight they might as well be spray painted on. ‘Slut’ - at least that word kept a timeless quality of abuse throughout the centuries.

“His loss,” she frowned at Sam, with a scrunched forehead for a second before shrugging to show she didn’t give a shit.

“Yeah, it is,” Dean sighed dramatically then cheered up in an instant, “but all my gain. Let’s blow this joint, huh?”

Standing still as he finished his beer Sam watched Faith led Dean out of the bar area, into the hat and coat check-in area, up the flight of stairs that led from the basement club to the street and out of view.

One, two, three, Sam slowly counted to sixty, before beginning to trail his brother and their potentially demonic prey.

Paying their tab, leaving the bar, collecting his coat, going up the stairs, walking slowly behind Faith and Dean on the sidewalk, staying out of sight - Sam carried out all of these tasks faithfully. He was a giant! Dean should really be doing this stalker gig, not Sam.

The icy sidewalk made the ground slippery under foot. Sam’s boots were fitted with a good tread on the soles, he didn’t know how else to account for Faith being able to remain upright with the height of her stiletto boot heels without her being not of this world. Or she was holding onto Dean for dear life if human.

A wino asked Sam for spare change and held him up for a few minutes, when the old man decided to get nasty over Sam’s kindly refusal to enable his alcohol dependency further and then nosy passer-bys decided to get involved. Where was big city indifference when you needed it?

A quick scramble up a series of fire escape ladders thirty minutes later saw Sam perching on Faith’s fire escape landing outside her window. The loft apartment Faith rented wasn’t as big a dump inside as it looked from the outside.

Her apartment’s view wasn’t anything to write home about - overlooking a back alley as it did, but the fact it was hidden from public view was useful for Sam and Dean’s exorcism intentions. The Winchesters had scouted ahead earlier yesterday while Faith visited her local library. Weird, he never would have picked Faith to be a big reader, but according to her gossipy building concierge, Faith hung out at her local library a lot.

Did demons take on the persona of the person they possessed? There was so much about the supernatural world that Sam should know about but didn’t because of his resentment towards his father preventing an acquisition of knowledge ... Crap, it was frigging freezing out here. Determined footsteps coming towards the window brought Sam back from his bitter trip down memory lane.

The window beside him slid up with an abrupt squawk of abused wooden grooves.

“Sam-baby, do you wanna come inside and join yah brother gettin' the snot kicked out of him in the warmth or do you get off on freezin' ya balls outside while you perve?” Faith wanted to know as she jutted her head outside. Her hair was slightly mussed as if she possibly had been in a fight or making out. “He’d ask you inside himself, but he’s all tied up.”

Instantly Sam saw visions of a trussed and gagged Dean being tortured by a demon Faith, or a silken rope restrained, naked Dean being pleasured a human, naked Faith. Honest to God, Sam didn’t know which image-flash was more stomach turning.

“It’s cool, dude, she isn’t a demon.” Dean’s voice could be heard calling from inside. “She might be psycho, but she isn’t a demon.”

“Fuck you, pal.” Faith uttered the remark lightly to Dean but Sam recognized the remark hurt her for some reason.

Putting his large feet first, Sam jimmied himself through the window.

A large wet patch on Dean’s jeans that he was dabbing at with a dish cloth in the kitchen area explained the tied up remark and a bruised cheek the beaten up comment.

“She threw holy water on me, when I was trying to see if she had a reaction to silver.” Dean explained to Sam casually.

“Right,” Sam nodded and waited for further explanation.

Holding her hair back so it didn’t catch alight, Faith lit a cigarette on the back stove.

“She’s not a ghost either, Faith here’s a fellow hunter.” Dean smirked at his own short sightedness. “The clues were in front of us. The way she wears a silver cross all the time.”

“I knew there was more than one reason you were checkin' out my tits. Congratulations,” Faith blew her cigarette smoke upwards impatiently. “You’ve worked out you were retarded, now take a hike.”

A pout of panic marred Dean’s charm filled explanation for a second. “Hey, where’s the love? I apologized for pulling a knife.”

“Then why does she look like Annabel Lehane from Salem?” Sam gave a snort of irritation. His fingers itched to whip the Book of Common Prayer out of his pocket and start reading the part dealing with exorcism.

“I’m Annie’s cousin,” Faith stared at Sam with her body rigid for prepared confrontation.

“That’s convenient, long lost I suppose?” Sam stared at her back, the hell if he was going to give up the idea Faith was a demon without a struggle.

“Yeah, she has the docs and everything, Sam.” Dean enthused, indicating a pile of official looking letters lying on Faith’s kitchen bench, “completely legit.”

“What happened to your brain, Dean? Why am I asking that? She could have forged these documents - or enchanted them.” Sam went to pick the papers up. He noticed they were headed up from a firm he felt he should recognize the name of but didn’t. Immediately Faith stood in front of him.

She didn’t need to get right in his face to radiate intimidation. “Hey, leave my 'enchanted' shit alone and leave with big bro, I’m not a demon, I’m not a ghost, I’m not a fuckin’ vamp, so piss off.”

“Vampires are probably extinct.” Dean pronounced with authority.

“That explains ….” An expression of illumination crossed her face.

Sam dropped the papers back on her kitchen bench. Why did Faith have legal documents in her kitchen and why was Dean totally convinced she was human?

A few quick strides took Faith over to her front door which proceeded to be swung forcefully open by her.

To avoid the bruises that would be coming their way if they lingered, Dean and Sam departed with dignity.

“I thought I was in there, once we cleared up our little mutual misunderstanding.” Dean elaborated further to Sam as the two brothers descended the flight of stairs leading to the building's entrance. “But she said she didn’t like being played. Seeing she was playing us too, it kinda proves the illogicalness of the female mind. She was more into you than me, anyways, dude, which shows she’s kinda nuts to begin with.”

“No, she wasn’t.” Sam quickened his pace and tried to avoid analyzing if that was why Faith repelled him so much.

Jessica and Faith were complete opposites in everyway. So if someone like Faith got all wet for him, what did that make Sam Winchester nowadays?

Soulmate surviving - 1 Wicked Game

2008-03-23T06:47:07Z

Title:Soulmate Surviving
Author:Kiwikatipo
Rating:F18 NC-17
Genre: Romance
Spoilers:Buffy comics, Season 1 and 2
Warnings: Coarse Language
Disclaimer: I did not invent Sam and Faith, Kripke and Whedon did, all hail. Annabel and company were created by Stephen Carpenter and are borrowed from the movie Soul Survivors.

Gary, Indiana, January, 2006

In a bustling café, two men in their twenties sat opposite one another drinking their java. With a customary loom Sam rose to place his laptop in front of his shorter but better looking brother.

“Still getting e-mails from your college buddies? Salem, Massachusetts.” Dean shot Sam a quirk of an eyebrow and a smirk of the lips. “Witches gone wild?”

“It looks like a skin walker, ghost or demonic possession. It’s odd, weird and freaky so that’s us.” Sam was falling back into hunting like a duck to water - as if college and normalcy were a distant dream, brought back into his consciousness by blasts from the past like this letter from Sean Wilberforce, a lab tutor from Sanford.

Meg, the girl Sam met on his aborted trip to California caused a disruption in his revenge driven return to the hunting life.

Thank God Sam did turn back from trying to find Dad, or else Dean would be dead by now.

“Odd weird and freaky - that’s you, dude, not me. The case? Yeah, sounds right up our alley,” Dean’s face broke into a lecherous smile, “And we should check up on Emily Jorgeson in Boston, see if she’s recovered yet from nearly being sacrificed to a pagan god by her folks.”

“It’s only been two days, she’s not you, I’d say she wouldn’t be over it.” Sam wasn’t over Jess, half a year could pass and you could still hurt every day with grief.

“She might need to talk about it to someone who understands, might need a shoulder to cry on.” Lust was one of the seven deadly sins that Dean most frequently indulged in.

Solo gratification was all Sam could deal with right now, anything else would feel like the final nail in Jessica’s coffin.

Salem, Massachusetts, January, 2006

The ethereal blonde who greeted Dean and Sam at her front door caused Dean’s flirtatious charm to kick into high gear. He managed to con a sandwich out of her straight away.

The blonde, a swimming instructor for disabled children was called Cassie Winters, she used to date Sean when they were both attending high school in Salem.

“Sean and I broke up three years ago, he was in California, I was in Mass, it was too hard once he was in college. I dropped out of college…” Cassie passed Dean the sandwich she fixed for him in her family’s kitchen. “Enough mayo?”

“Awesome,” A thumbs up signal was given by Dean to reinforce that mouthful statement.

“But we’ll always be friends; he saved my life, even if he does shoot off his mouth about me to his co-workers these days.” Using her hands and strong swimmer's arms Cassie swung herself up to sit on the kitchen island. “Crap, this is going to sound insane. Sean’s lab assistant said you helped her brother in Florida? But I don’t know how you can help me, I mean it’s not like I’m being haunted… I saw a ghost I think… But she couldn’t be a ghost and if she is I think she might be worse than a ghost because I think she went to Hell...”

“Start from the beginning,” Sam advised the stressed woman.

“The very beginning?” Cassie put her head in her hands and trembled. “It sounds nuts. Okay, in my freshman year of high school I met this new transfer - Annabel Lehane who'd moved with her family from Boston to Salem. We were both in the swim team, we hung out together all the time, painting each other’s toenails, sleeping over at each others house, tying up the phone lines when we were apart and generally driving our parents crazy. The whole teenage gal pal hog.”

Sam and Dean politely waited as Cassie paused for breath.

“So anyway, in sophomore year her mom passed - car accident. Annabel’s mom drank and drove once too often. Ironic, I should have learned huh?” Cassie’s hands shook. “Annabel went kind of crazy afterwards, did dumb teen-cry-for-help stunts - shoplifting, sleeping around, dropped out of swim team, would have dropped out of school if me and her dad hadn’t persuaded her not to. But I stuck by her. And this dark place Annabel went to, she clawed her way back out of it. And in senior year our lives were so on track, hell, we knew everything, we were fricking perfect little princesses on prom night. See that collection of photographs hanging on the wall? Bottom left.”

Four two-dimensional fading teenagers in formal attire beamed self consciously at the camera Cassie’s dad held back in 1999. One blonde and one brunette wearing similar clinging black dresses, two tuxedo clad guys with their arms around their best girls’ waists and a dab of zit cover-up on their chins. Smiles frozen in time, forever young, forever in love.

The girls’ prom gowns were cut low. Cassie and Annabel were bangable little babes back then, weren’t they just? Sam blinked, his heart and groin were in the grave, he refocused back on Cassie’s words.

“That’s me and Sean, Annabel and Matt. I used to date Matt before Sean. Annabel always wanted him. Matt was a great guy, won a scholarship to Harvard. I murdered him and I murdered Annabel when they were both only eighteen.” Cassie grabbed a tissue out of a box beside the fruit bowl. She dragged the tissue across her eyes with a violent jerk.

Feeling confident that Cassie would elaborate on that last statement Sam made a soothing murmur from the back of his throat.

An expression of compassionate concern played over Dean’s features, Sam noticed him eye up the fruit bowl appraisingly at the same time.

“It was the week Annabel and I started Middleton College in Illinois.” Cassie sped up her words so fast she verged on gabbling. “We were so excited we both got accepted to the same college. Sean and Matt’s colleges started the week after ours did. They were spending the night with us after driving us to Middleton. We all went to a freshers’ party at a Sorority house and it sucked, Annabel found out about a rave being held in an abandoned church on the outskirts of town.”

Tears were running down Cassie’s face. “Annabel and I were dancing together all night - I kept having shots from this flask of vodka Matt brought along to the rave - it was hot inside. And when it came time to leave I made out with Matt in the car while Sean was inside the church looking for Annabel. Sean saw, he was pissed at me.

So… yeah, it was raining, I was driving back to college alongside the lake and trying to convince Sean me kissing Matt had been nothing, while at the same time attempting not to let Annabel in the back seat know what I did. And a car in front of us on the highway spun in the wet.” Cassie’s words were almost intelligible by this stage. “And because I wasn’t concentrating - because I’d been drinking and cheating on my boyfriend - I ploughed into it and pushed it and us over a bank into Lake Michigan and all three occupants of that other car died and so did Matt and Annabel.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam and Dean both said it together on the same beat. Jesus, imagine having that on your conscience.

It made perfect sense for Annabel to be an unquiet spirit.

“And you’ve seen the ghost of Annabel?” Dean was the picture of helpful non shocked understanding.

Slowly, Cassie nodded. “Yeah, and so did Annabel’s dad on Christmas Eve, we both did. That’s why I know I’m not crazy.”

Boston, Massachusetts, January 2006

Being reformed and all, Faith never meant to screw with her old man’s double’s mind.

Faith’s father died in an armed hold up of a liquor store gone wrong when Faith was five, and then everything in her young life truly went to shit.

Ma turned into a mega bitch, they moved out of their three bedroom house into a cheaper apartment in a scummier part of Southie than they lived in before. Ma started to hit both the bottle and Faith.

So a glimpse of the life her double led in Salem in this Earth dimension… what stinking luck that at the same time a squatting Faith brushed away the snow from Annabel Faith Lehane’s plaque in a Salem cemetery, to read what verse from the Good Book got chosen to sum up her life, Annabel’s father and her best friend arrived carrying white roses to lay down on Annabel’s grave on Christmas Eve morning.

Awkward.

How dumb of Faith to think that wearing shades would disguise her sufficiently during her tourist jaunt around Salem. Faith was dumb, she verged on being retarded.

Fortunately Faith’s boyfriend was waiting in his van for her so she could beat a hasty retreat leaving a stunned Cassie Winters and Colin Lehane in her wake.

As she walked down the stairs from her third floor apartment in the urban renewal area she grew up in, she deserved to live in shit surroundings - that was why she ended up back here wasn’t it? Faith resolved to dump Kenny again tonight, albeit less violently than she had at seventeen.

Being a guitarist instead of a drummer on this Earth and with an added seven years of maturity still did not alter the fact that although a gifted musician, a stud in bed and funny, Kenny was fundamentally a cheating asshole.

She wouldn’t go to California again, no, she always intended to go to the Caribbean and fight evil by night, she was a worthless piece of shit who had so much to make up for and laze on the beach by day. She didn’t deserve a normal life like Buffy, Vi and Kennedy intended to have once they made magic leave their world, because Faith gutted like a squealing pig…

“Hey, Jake,” Faith walked quickly up to the doorman at the bar Kenny was playing in tonight. “Left the navy, huh?”

“Sorry, do I know you?” Jake who popped Faith’s cherry in his parent’s bedroom one summer night at a party when she was fourteen and wasted, stared down at her puzzled.

Faith never lost her virginity to this world’s Jake. Fucking with her own head was the one thing she was good at. “No. Got you mixed with someone else.”

With a swish of her hips Faith headed towards the bar once she left her jacket and scarf with the hat check chick. What the hell made her come back to South Boston? It wasn’t like the Artic hellhole held pleasant memories for her. And that was because she…

“Who’s next?” The bartender dithered between Faith and an escaped NBA player standing in front of him at the bar.

It took two seconds for Faith to give NBA and the pallid bartender the automatic test she gave every male with a pulse and some vampires that didn’t. Would she boink NBA or the bartender if she got stranded with them on a desert island? Hell yeah to NBA, and probably the bartender if NBA got killed by a cocoanut falling out of a palm tree.

“The lady was first.” NBA must be an MIT hobbit slumming it. His eyes were kind and he looked sad not like he was going to start hitting on her.

She rewarded him with a sultry raise of her eyelashes. He could hit on her if he wanted, no problems

“A pitcher of beer,” she tossed a greenback in front of the bartender.

“Freezing evening, huh?” NBA was smiling across at her.

“Winter.” Faith rolled her eyes. Lame. Talking about the weather? Lame.

“Yeah, guess it is, but it’s still freezing.” NBA moved aside for the bartender to pass Faith her pitcher of beer.

Faith narrowed her eyes but not at NBA, she spotted Kenny approaching at two o’clock on her right.

“Hey, baby.” Kenny slid his hands around her waist and kissed her bare shoulder.

No violence, she was twenty-five not seventeen, she could do this.

“Hey Kenny,” Faith twirled around and dimpled up at him. “You know how you screwed yah room mate’s sister last Friday afternoon after I left your apartment?”

“I don’t know what trouble makin’ bitch lied to you, Faith.” Kenny glared at the tall guy standing beside them hanging onto every word spoken. “Hey, bud? Fuck off.”

NBA backed away with an apologetic hand gesture.

Tilting her chin up bullishly Faith turned her attentions back to Kenny. “Don’t bullshit me, Kenny, I’m quicker than that.” She twisted her mouth. “Real quick.”

The pitcher of beer was overturned on Kenny’s head with lightning speed. Oops. Déjà vu.

Seven years ago her world’s Kenny used amphetamines too much and backhanded Faith across the face when she pulled the same trick. She used her newly discovered slayer strength to break his arm.

Today Kenny clenched his fist, unclenched it and said. “I’m sorry, Faith. It wasn’t you - it was me.” He slunk off damply.

This world rocked even if Faith still hadn’t discovered where all the cool vampires hung out or even the geek ones.

There might be something supernaturally weird happening in Maine next week, who would guess Faith had been driven to studying fatality reports in newspapers to try and find evil to vanquish?

A passing guy nearly spilled a glass of water all over her, she dodged with nimble grace.

“Aiming to host your own little wet t-shirt competition?” Faith snapped with frustrated displacement of hurt. Kenny, Robin, it never worked because she wasn’t good enough for anyone. Slut, tramp, worthless whore.

The apologizing unco turned out to be NBA’s brother.

The Winchester brothers were both frigging hot.

She’d screw Dean the moment they swam ashore on her imaginary Gilligan’s Island. Judging from the flicker of movement on Dean’s brow he was running through a similar scenario with her.

Sam Winchester asked if he could buy her a drink.

Nothing like getting back on the saddle after being bucked from a horse, not that Faith would honestly know - she’d never even touched a horse in her whole mostly misspent and entirely urban or in prison life.

Should she be good or should she be bad? And with which brother?

Part Two Chap 10: Like an eagle flying with a dove

2007-06-04T09:02:57Z

AN: A milk frother resembles a small coffee plunger, you pour warm milk inside the small glass cylinder and plunge the fine mesh screen plunger part up and down, to make the milky frothy tops for cappuccinos.

PART TWO:spoiler alert for season 2 finale in Supernatural

***
Monday
Atlantic Ocean
***

Faith never got why people complained about airline food, growing up on her mom’s lack of cooking skills made Faith appreciate receiving a decent meal.

The returning Irish backpacker seated beside her, screwed up his face at the dismal dehydrated desert on his tray. “You wouldn’t get slop like this in feckin’ prison.”

Faith contentedly spooned down her dry cheesecake. “Ya dead right, you wouldn’t,” she agreed heartily, although sadly even prison food proved to be an improvement on Mom’s. Faith’s meals arrived regularly in prison.

The onboard movie took her mind off her thoughts of the last two days temporarily.

Faith going down on Dean in the shower. Dean banging her on the couch to ‘test the quality of the new cushion’. Dean’s carefree and fond expression when he looked at her after they finished screwing on the kitchen table. What did she look like to him in those moments? Sweaty probably.

Faith sipped her white wine in its plastic glass, trying to concentrate on the antics of Tim Allen on screen. Thank god her normal life could resume soon.

Dean squeezing her tight when he kissed her good-bye, like he never wanted to let her go. The way his stubble grazed her inner thigh…

“Uh, you majored in Tax Laws at Dublin City University?” Faith took her headphones off and nudged her seat row companion filling in a Sudoku puzzle square. “That sounds damn fascinating, bud. Tell me about it.”

***
Monday
South Dakota
***
Bobby Singer napped in his bedroom, worn out from an all night online game. Ellen Harvelle shopped at the nearest store for tonight’s meal.

“So your weekend break work, dude? Did you finally rest like I begged you to?” Sam fetched Dean a beer from the refrigerator. “All mentally refreshed? Got your head together over all the crap that’s gonna start happening soon?” Sam would save Dean, somehow.

“Yeah.” Dean sank back in a leather armchair and drank the beer gratefully. “I ran into Boston-Faith we met in Florida, she’s alive.”

“Faith? ‘Wicked’ ‘Five by five’ Faith from back when we were kids?” Sam’s face broke into a broad smile. “That’s great! How is she?”

“She’s good.” Dean put his beer down, not meeting Sam’s eyes. “Lives in Ireland now, she stayed in Bobby’s cabin for two nights on her way back there. But yeah, like I said she’s good, she’s got kinda boring to be brutally honest.”

Sam rolled his eyes in utter disbelief. “You slept with her again didn’t you?”

Faith lay curled up beside Dean in bed, he listened to her breathe in the darkness. He placed his arm around her protectively and she immediately pressed against him in her sleep.

Dean smiled easily and picked up his beer again. “Tied in nicely with the whole R. and R. weekend. We were just killing time together, Sammy Boy. I guess you don’t know how that is.” Dean wished he didn’t, the whole experience with meeting up accidentally with Faith and getting left by her again, somehow sucked worse than when he reunited and parted from Cassie last year.

Dean grew so tired of it all, the hunting, never leading a normal life because he had to keep on saving people and now who would save him? Maybe he wanted a ‘functional’ life too, he knew he did and he knew also it was never coming his way, not now.

***
Tuesday
Dublin
***
The daffodils stood to attention in their display vase in yellow glory. The wiry red-headed man in the dark gray suit admired them. The main trouble with having a girlfriend who worked in a florist shop was that it seemed silly somehow to get her flowers as a welcome back gesture. He hoped therefore Faith didn’t think the present he left for her on his way to work this morning a foolish gesture.

Faith returned to the flower shop from her morning jaunt to the post office. She tossed down the collected envelopes on the shop counter and wrapped her green protective apron over her street clothes.

Her boss was busy with another customer. Faith strolled over jauntily to Seamus, wrapping her arms around his neck, giving him a hearty kiss of greeting. It sucked her slaying commitments and his roster at the funeral parlor made her unable to spend the night with him until Thursday.

Seamus grinned down at her mischievously. “Hello stranger, how was London?”

“Good, it was good, so ya here to order what today?” Faith drew back from him to take out her pen from an apron pocket, smiling back warmly. She’d opened her front door this morning to find a selection of fruit flavored yogurts (her favorite) arranged in a heart shape box beside the morning milk and a note saying ‘welcome back angel’.

“He’s a nice guy.” Faith explained, snuggled in Dean’s arms. The birds were singing the dawn chorus out their bedroom window.

“That’s the kiss of death isn’t it? He’s nice. Sounds kinda insipid.” Dean smirked, kissing the top of her head.

“No it’s called ‘functional’.” Faith smacked him playfully on his left bicep, amused at his teasing. “And he has a great sense of humor.”

“Isn’t he an undertaker?” Dean checked, nuzzling her ear. “What the hell can you joke about in that job?”

Seamus pulled out a piece of paper and started ordering from his list. “First up we need a bouquet for a zoo keeper who got mauled to death by a big cat. Anything but tiger lilies.”

***
Tuesday
South Dakota
***
Dean squatted in front of the cooker withdrawing the lasagna from the oven.

“Not bad.” Ellen praised Dean’s foray into the world of actual cooking as opposed to adding boiling water to a ramen noodle packet.

“Ellen… Thanks huh?” Dean placed the steaming lasagna down on the kitchen table. “You should be in Nebraska, overseeing getting your bar rebuilt.”

“That’s right, Mom should be.” Jo stood in the doorway of the kitchen, carrying a suitcase, Bobby standing beside her. “Is anyone here gonna tell me just what the hell is happening?”

Jo’s shining gold hair smelled of fresh green apples as she roughly pushed past Dean to put her case away.

Dean imagined pinning her against the kitchen counter and kissing her long and slow, partly because he always wanted to and partly because it would make him stop thinking about Faith.

***
Wednesday
Dublin
***
It was kinda cute Siobhan wore black leather pants and a black leather bomber jacket in sweet imitation of Faith’s normal slaying apparel. Siobhan’s father threw a fit as she walked out the house wearing the garments tonight.

“It’s like watching a baby chick hatch out of its egg.” Siobhan cooed, hopping excitedly from foot to foot, anticipating with relish fighting the vampire clawing its way out of the crumbling fresh grave in Glasnevin Cemetery.

“Or a zit popping,” Faith leaned on a nearby gravestone, sharing a cigarette with Siobhan’s watcher and catching up on the latest slayer news.

An Armageddon demon war seemed ripe to break out with demons in the States - some people were developing psychic powers and having visions of a yellow eyed demon. Curiously a lot of them had mothers who died in house fires when they were six months old. (Just like Sam Winchester!) The whole yellow eyed demon situation sounded quite serious. On the good news side a demon ascension had been narrowly foiled in Beijing, by Chao Ahn. Caridad and Xander were presently tied up with stopping an apocalypse in Uganda.

Regretfully or thankfully, Ireland wasn’t an apocalypse occurring country. Faith, Siobhan and another slayer, Katie, located in Belfast, only dealt with run of the mill vampires and the occasional feral werewolf. Faith hadn’t personally faced an end of the world type scenario since the Sunnydale Hellmouth closed permanently for business in 2003.

Faith and the watcher approvingly observed Siobhan’s swift savage fight and subsequent staking short of the fledgling vampire’s existence.

“Not bad, girlfriend.” Faith abandoned her granite perch. “See ya both tomorrow, same bat time, same bat channel.” She crouched over a wreath lying on the disturbed grave before she left the cemetery. A rival flower shop provided the wreath. “Hey, where the hell did these guys get sunflowers out of season?”

“Is it demonic?” Siobhan asked excitedly, the sixteen year old loved killing things and mysteries.

“No, you want demonic? Check out the cover charge of the club I’m going to tonight.” Faith straightened up, put her arms up in the air and twirled tauntingly. “Staking vamps and hearing the ‘Monsters of Rock Inc’ playing as background music. Must suck, tonight being a school night for you.”

But it sucked more for Faith really in the end. The Irish pub band played non-stop heavy metal covers, which reminded Faith nostalgically of Dean.

Fucking pathetic of her, tonight would be the last time she dwelt morbidly on the past and Dean. Faith just needed to get laid again by Seamus to get back on track and tomorrow she would be.

***
Wednesday
South Dakota
***
Whenever Dean spent time in the same room as Jo, the unlikelihood of it ever working out between them glared in his face.

“I did this exorcism on a kid in Duluth.” Jo chuckled, her legs curled under her, nestled in Bobby’s huge leather armchair. “Whoa boy, furniture flying around the room and this soccer mom can’t stop screaming at me. ‘That sofa only got recovered last week, look what you’re doing to it!’ I think Mrs. Donaldson was in shock. She didn’t even thank me afterwards.”

“Don’t ever hold your breath, expecting thanks from someone whose ass you just saved.” Dean spoke from bitter experience from the depths of a squishy giant mustard bean bag.

Bobby’s book and paper strewn living room displayed the eclectic choices of a bachelor who didn’t give a crap about interior aesthetics.

Jo’s appearance in her powder blue long sleeved T-shirt, her blond hair hanging loose and freshly brushed over her shoulders put Dean in mind of figurines his mom used to collect. Dresden China they were called. Like Jo the china dolls milk white skin were touched with pink health on their cheeks. God, Jo was hot.

“I don’t.” Jo propped her chin on her hand, her arm on the armrest of the armchair. Her clear brown eyes gleamed with enthusiasm over what she achieved in the past few months. “But most folks do thank you, Dean. Once they realize what you’ve done for them.”

“Sometimes,” Dean conceded fairly. He could always be fair.

“I’m not an asshole like you are, so I guess the people I help just plain feel more kindly towards me,” Jo grinned at him challengingly. “And I’m better looking.”

“Yeah, can’t argue.” Dean put his head back between his hands in peacock display, he wasn’t exactly ugly himself.

Jo not being vision impaired was fully aware of Dean’s weather-beaten attractiveness. Sam while possessed by a demon told Jo Dean would never be interested in Jo, Dean saw her as a little sister. Dean’s eyes checking her out every chance he got today didn’t come across as being fraternally neutral to her.

Demons lied mostly. Jo wanted Dean so bad.

Dean knew Jo liked him and he liked her back. He admired her sassiness and strength of character. But she’d want more than he was free to ever give now. A shame, because he needed to get laid as soon as possible to drive the memories of Faith out of his head.

***
Thursday
Dublin
***
Framed photographs of the Acropolis decorated the white walls, mandolin music played in the background. It would have to be a Greek restaurant, Seamus chose for their first date since she arrived back in Dublin. Faith didn’t enjoy eating in Greek restaurants and it had nothing to do with not liking lamb, although the meat was kind of greasy when she thought about it.

The hunky, goatee beard sporting, waiter brought over the menu for Faith to read. The waiter was a fellow American, over in Ireland for a working vacation. Faith flirted with him to fill in her time waiting for Seamus to finally arrive.

No one could claim to be truly late for anything in the twenty-first century due to cell phones and warning messages. This was however the third time Seamus ran late while meeting her.

Good thing Robin wasn’t the one dating Seamus, the ex-principal would have a nervous breakdown over the guy’s unpunctuality.

Seamus arrived apologetically at last, dinner was consumed, hands were held across the table, footsie was played under it, and desert was skipped so they could hurry back to Faith’s place.

Fumbling, frottage, fingering, fellating, fucking, falling asleep satiated.

A painful kick on his calf caused Seamus to awake groggily at three in the morning. Faith moved her legs, running in her sleep, talking to herself.

“Diana? No, no, no. No words to describe what he did to her.” Faith muttered distressed in her R.E.M. sleep. “No.”

“Faith.” Seamus shook her awake gently. “You’re dreaming, girlie.”

Faith opened her eyes and took in her familiar surroundings with a gulp of relief.

Nightmares were why Faith hated dining at Greek restaurants. Sometimes dreaming about the way Kakistos killed her watcher would make her scream out loud.

***
Thursday
South Dakota
***
Going out to a local bar with Sam and Bobby on half price drink night seemed the easiest solution to getting laid, not hurting Jo and pushing all melancholy memories of Faith to one side.

Like Goldilocks evaluating bowls of oatmeal, Dean faced two sexual choices tonight. Firstly Marilyn, who had a good figure but was ugly from the neck up and dumb as road-kill, and secondly Tierra, shy and mousy, flat as a pancake, but otherwise not barf inducing.

Dean decided Tierra looked the easiest no frills lay judging from the way she was sitting on her bar stool. He bought her a drink and started quickly hitting on her, taking her out the back where they could talk in ‘private’.

Suave compliments throwing her off balance, seductive kissing, shedding enough clothes to enable him to slip inside her, screwing her hard against a wall, squeals, (Holy crap, Tierra sounded like a sow at the county fair when she came), shuddering to a swift release. Wham Bam Thank-you Ma’am.

Faith who?

***
Friday Night
Dublin
***
Why was the missing mate of an earring never where you thought it would be? Faith searched under her dressing table. No, not there.

She walked out into her living room.

“You look nice.” Seamus approved, resplendent in his own Friday night best.

“Thanks.” Faith smoothed down her black mini dress, pleased at his praise. She bent over her couch, hunting behind cushions for the damn earring.

“You can see your knickers when you do that. If you can call that slip of fabric barely covering your bum, underwear.” Seamus changed channels on the TV set. “Does it match your bra?”

“Wait and see, babe.” Faith squatted on the floor and peered under the couch. No, not there.

She tried the kitchen and knocked over the dishwashing liquid on the bench into an open drawer. Crap, liquid soap all over the freaking tea towels. Hey and there was her earring!

The telephone rang. Who the hell called her home number on a Friday night? She’d listed herself on Eircom as being unavailable to telemarketers.

“Could you get that Seamus, thanks?” Faith tried to stop the spread of soap onto her kitchen linen.

Seamus came into the kitchen and held out the cordless telephone to her. “It’s a Yank called Dean for you. He says it’s urgent.”

***
“How didja get my number?” was Faith’s immediate shocked response to Dean’s phone call out of the blue.

“Faith, just listen to me, huh?” Dean and Sam googled the Irish white pages online. There were only six F. Lehanes listed for the whole of Dublin and Dean remembered what suburb Faith said she lived in. “Sam’s had a vision and you’re in serious shit.”

***
Friday Night continued
Dublin
***
Faith opened her hot water cylinder cupboard and pulled out a tomahawk she stored there so it wouldn’t rust.

Faith began to ransack her kitchen pantry, and there behind the garlic powder lay the unopened packet of sea salt. Faith ripped a hole in it with her teeth.

Faith grabbed her milk frother off the coffee mug shelf. The most useless wedding present in existence was finally about to be put to good use.

She smashed the bottom off the glass frother and poured the rock salt packet inside the upturned glass cylinder.

Seamus came into the kitchen puzzled. “Are we leaving anytime soon tonight? What on Earth are you doing?”

Her front door bell rang. Faith opened her kitchen window.

“Don’t answer the door.” Faith warned Seamus quietly, placing a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Seamus demanded impatiently. “And who the hell was that on the phone?”

The door buckled as someone, or ‘something’ slammed against it repeatedly.

“Get down!” Faith screamed at Seamus, jerking him down onto the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing, woman?” Seamus yelled, pushing himself up from the tiles. How the bloody hell had his slender girlfriend just managed to achieve knocking him to the ground?

Faith placed her high heeled foot between his shoulder blades and pressed him safely back down on the tiles, how dominatrix of her.

The front door burst open, a lumbering animated corpse came into the living room. It was the cute waiter from the Greek restaurant last night, well formerly cute waiter anyway.

“Holy Mary mother of God!” Seamus felt relieved he had good bladder control.

“Stay down, don’t let it bite you, it’s after me.” Faith kept pressing her boyfriend down on the floor.

The zombie jerked a path into the kitchen. “For Kakistos I live, for Kakistos you’ll die. I'm going to rip your spine from your body, eat your heart and suck the marrow from your bones in his name.” It informed her in the rotting tones of the grave.

“I’m happy for you, pal, I like chicken myself.” Faith stood guard over Seamus. “Make your move.” Kakistos? Kakistos! She’d freak out later when she had the luxury of time to process a panic attack over this unwelcome development in her life.

The zombie reached out its clawed hands to strangle, choking her. Faith stabbed the jagged edged milk frother over his chest and pushed down the plunger.

“Recedo immunda phasmatis!” She coughed furiously. That son of a bitch vampire, screwing up her Friday night plans eight and a half years after she killed him; some undead were real assholes.

Ebony smoke billowed from the zombie’s mouth as the salt exorcised the demon within the dead waiter, flowing out the kitchen window in a black filth.

Faith snatched her tomahawk off the kitchen bench and lopped the zombie’s head off in one powerful stroke.

The zombie collapsed lifeless on the floor a mere dead decapitated body.

Faith removed her shoe off a struggling Seamus’s back to allow him to rise.

Seamus nudged the corpse cautiously with his foot. “Faith darling, I appreciate ladies with hidden depths, but is there something you’re possibly needing to be sharing with me?”

***
Friday Afternoon
South Dakota
***
“God, I hope she’s alright.” Dean paced Bobby’s kitchen floor, tense with anxiety.

“So who’s Faith?” Jo pursed her lips in suspicious inquiry.

“This ex-teen runaway Dad helped out one summer almost ten years ago. I ran into her last weekend. She’s got kinda porky, poor chick.” Dean picked up the phone receiver unable to restrain himself any longer to check that Faith was okay.

***
Friday Night Continued
Dublin
***
This guy was a total keeper sadly. Faith couldn’t believe how well he took everything she told him.

“A vampire slayer?” Seamus tapped the beer bottle thoughtfully against his lips as they drank in the living room together. “All things being equal this must be an improvement on the time I found out one of my ex-girlfriends was breaking up with me to become a nun.”

“Don’t you want to dump me over it or tell me vampires and demons don’t exist and I drugged your beer earlier?” Faith sculled back her own beer, she needed Seamus to leave soon so she could smash something because tonight Kakistos reached out from Hades to try and kill her. Faith then needed to call up Giles or Andrew and find out how the hell it was all possible.

“I knew vampires existed.” Seamus twisted his mouth wryly. “I work in a funeral parlor, Faith. I’ve seen a lot of peculiar things in my time.”

“I’m real sorry about this, but I’m gonna hafta break up with you instead.” Faith sighed regretfully.

“And why’s that?” Seamus asked unflappably, taking another swig of beer.

“Because I’m gonna hafta go to the U.S. to help stop an apocalypse and it might be a one way trip.” Faith lit a cigarette with steady hands, not betraying the turmoil she felt inside. Dean would not welcome her presence or interference in his and Sam’s lives and as a slayer she needed to be involved in whatever would happen to Sam. She suspected Dean hid something to do with Sam when she was with him five days ago. “I don’t want to... break up with you.”

Seamus narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “Don’t then.”

The telephone rang. Faith picked it up. “Hi. I’m fine. Thanks for the heads up. I’m kinda busy right now, bud. Call me back tomorrow if you want. You too. Bye.”

Seamus passed her the ash tray. “‘Dean’ eh? Who’s he exactly again?”

“He’s my cousin, sorta.” Faith flicked her ash into the proffered crystal ashtray innocently. “Poor guy has terrible acne scars.”

Like an eagle flying with the dove

2007-05-25T13:36:12Z

AN: Faith and Dean continue to lie, so will utter statements that do not seem canon and will even contradict this story so far.

A milk frother resembles a small coffee plunger, you pour warm milk inside the small glass cylinder and plunge the fine mesh screen plunger part up and down, to make the milky frothy tops for cappuccinos.

Many thanks to Jennylal for checking over Irish dialog.

PART TWO:spoiler alert for season 2 finale in Supernatural

***
Monday
Atlantic Ocean
***

Faith never got why people complained about airline food, growing up on her mom’s lack of cooking skills made Faith appreciate receiving a decent meal.

The returning Irish backpacker seated beside her, screwed up his face at the dismal dehydrated desert on his tray. “You wouldn’t get slop like this in feckin’ prison.”

Faith contentedly spooned down her dry cheesecake. “Ya dead right, you wouldn’t,” she agreed heartily, although sadly even prison food proved to be an improvement on Mom’s. Faith’s meals arrived regularly in prison.

The onboard movie took her mind off her thoughts of the last two days temporarily.

Faith going down on Dean in the shower. Dean banging her on the couch to ‘test the quality of the new cushion’. Dean’s carefree and fond expression when he looked at her after they finished screwing on the kitchen table. What did she look like to him in those moments? Sweaty probably.

Faith sipped her white wine in its plastic glass, trying to concentrate on the antics of Tim Allen on screen. Thank god her normal life could resume soon.

Dean squeezing her tight when he kissed her good-bye, like he never wanted to let her go. The way his stubble grazed her inner thigh…

“Uh, you majored in Tax Laws at Dublin City University?” Faith took her headphones off and nudged her seat row companion filling in a Sudoku puzzle square. “That sounds damn fascinating, bud. Tell me about it.”

***
Monday
South Dakota
***
Bobby Singer napped in his bedroom, worn out from an all night online game. Ellen Harvelle shopped at the nearest store for tonight’s meal.

“So your weekend break work, dude? Did you finally rest like I begged you to?” Sam fetched Dean a beer from the refrigerator. “All mentally refreshed? Got your head together over all the crap that’s gonna start happening soon?” Sam would save Dean, somehow.

“Yeah.” Dean sank back in a leather armchair and drank the beer gratefully. “I ran into Boston-Faith we met in Florida, she’s alive.”

“Faith? ‘Wicked’ ‘Five by five’ Faith from back when we were kids?” Sam’s face broke into a broad smile. “That’s great! How is she?”

“She’s good.” Dean put his beer down, not meeting Sam’s eyes. “Lives in Ireland now, she stayed in Bobby’s cabin for two nights on her way back there. But yeah, like I said she’s good, she’s got kinda boring to be brutally honest.”

Sam rolled his eyes in utter disbelief. “You slept with her again didn’t you?”

Faith lay curled up beside Dean in bed, he listened to her breathe in the darkness. He placed his arm around her protectively and she immediately pressed against him in her sleep.

Dean smiled easily and picked up his beer again. “Tied in nicely with the whole R. and R. weekend. We were just killing time together, Sammy Boy. I guess you don’t know how that is.” Dean wished he didn’t, the whole experience with meeting up accidentally with Faith and getting left by her again, somehow sucked worse than when he reunited and parted from Cassie last year.

Dean grew so tired of it all, the hunting, never leading a normal life because he had to keep on saving people and now who would save him? Maybe he wanted a ‘functional’ life too, he knew he did and he knew also it was never coming his way, not now.

***
Tuesday
Dublin
***
The daffodils stood to attention in their display vase in yellow glory. The wiry red-headed man in the dark gray suit admired them. The main trouble with having a girlfriend who worked in a florist shop was that it seemed silly somehow to get her flowers as a welcome back gesture. He hoped therefore Faith didn’t think the present he left for her on his way to work this morning a foolish gesture.

Faith returned to the flower shop from her morning jaunt to the post office. She tossed down the collected envelopes on the shop counter and wrapped her green protective apron over her street clothes.

Her boss was busy with another customer. Faith strolled over jauntily to Seamus, wrapping her arms around his neck, giving him a hearty kiss of greeting. It sucked her slaying commitments and his roster at the funeral parlor made her unable to spend the night with him until Thursday.

Seamus grinned down at her mischievously. “Hello stranger, how was London?”

“Good, it was good, so ya here to order what today?” Faith drew back from him to take out her pen from an apron pocket, smiling back warmly. She’d opened her front door this morning to find a selection of fruit flavored yogurts (her favorite) arranged in a heart shape box beside the morning milk and a note saying ‘welcome back angel’.

“He’s a nice guy.” Faith explained, snuggled in Dean’s arms. The birds were singing the dawn chorus out their bedroom window.

“That’s the kiss of death isn’t it? He’s nice. Sounds kinda insipid.” Dean smirked, kissing the top of her head.

“No it’s called ‘functional’.” Faith smacked him playfully on his left bicep, amused at his teasing. “And he has a great sense of humor.”

“Isn’t he an undertaker?” Dean checked, nuzzling her ear. “What the hell can you joke about in that job?”

Seamus pulled out a piece of paper and started ordering from his list. “First up we need a bouquet for a zoo keeper who got mauled to death by a big cat. Anything but tiger lilies.”

***
Tuesday
South Dakota
***
Dean squatted in front of the cooker withdrawing the lasagna from the oven.

“Not bad.” Ellen praised Dean’s foray into the world of actual cooking as opposed to adding boiling water to a ramen noodle packet.

“Ellen… Thanks huh?” Dean placed the steaming lasagna down on the kitchen table. “You should be in Nebraska, overseeing getting your bar rebuilt.”

“That’s right, Mom should be.” Jo stood in the doorway of the kitchen, carrying a suitcase, Bobby standing beside her. “Is anyone here gonna tell me just what the hell is happening?”

Jo’s shining gold hair smelled of fresh green apples as she roughly pushed past Dean to put her case away.

Dean imagined pinning her against the kitchen counter and kissing her long and slow, partly because he always wanted to and partly because it would make him stop thinking about Faith.

***
Wednesday
Dublin
***
It was kinda cute Siobhan wore black leather pants and a black leather bomber jacket in sweet imitation of Faith’s normal slaying apparel. Siobhan’s father threw a fit as she walked out the house wearing the garments tonight.

“It’s like watching a baby chick hatch out of its egg.” Siobhan cooed, hopping excitedly from foot to foot, anticipating with relish fighting the vampire clawing its way out of the crumbling fresh grave in Glasnevin Cemetery.

“Or a zit popping,” Faith leaned on a nearby gravestone, sharing a cigarette with Siobhan’s watcher and catching up on the latest slayer news.

An Armageddon demon war seemed ripe to break out with demons in the States - some people were developing psychic powers and having visions of a yellow eyed demon. Curiously a lot of them had mothers who died in house fires when they were six months old. (Just like Sam Winchester!) The whole yellow eyed demon situation sounded quite serious. On the good news side a demon ascension had been narrowly foiled in Beijing, by Chao Ahn. Caridad and Xander were presently tied up with stopping an apocalypse in Uganda.

Regretfully or thankfully, Ireland wasn’t an apocalypse occurring country. Faith, Siobhan and another slayer, Katie, located in Belfast, only dealt with run of the mill vampires and the occasional feral werewolf. Faith hadn’t personally faced an end of the world type scenario since the Sunnydale Hellmouth closed permanently for business in 2003.

Faith and the watcher approvingly observed Siobhan’s swift savage fight and subsequent staking short of the fledgling vampire’s existence.

“Not bad, girlfriend.” Faith abandoned her granite perch. “See ya both tomorrow, same bat time, same bat channel.” She crouched over a wreath lying on the disturbed grave before she left the cemetery. A rival flower shop provided the wreath. “Hey, where the hell did these guys get sunflowers out of season?”

“Is it demonic?” Siobhan asked excitedly, the fifteen year old loved killing things and mysteries.

“No, you want demonic? Check out the cover charge of the club I’m going to tonight.” Faith straightened up, put her arms up in the air and twirled tauntingly. “Staking vamps and hearing the ‘Monsters of Rock Inc’ playing as background music. Must suck, tonight being a school night for you.”

But it sucked more for Faith really in the end. The Irish pub band played non-stop heavy metal covers, which reminded Faith nostalgically of Dean.

Fucking pathetic of her, tonight would be the last time she dwelt morbidly on the past and Dean. Faith just needed to get laid again by Seamus to get back on track and tomorrow she would be.

***
Wednesday
South Dakota
***
Whenever Dean spent time in the same room as Jo, the unlikelihood of it ever working out between them glared in his face.

“I did this exorcism on a kid in Duluth.” Jo chuckled, her legs curled under her, nestled in Bobby’s huge leather armchair. “Whoa boy, furniture flying around the room and this soccer mom can’t stop screaming at me. ‘That sofa only got recovered last week, look what you’re doing to it!’ I think Mrs. Donaldson was in shock. She didn’t even thank me afterwards.”

“Don’t ever hold your breath, expecting thanks from someone whose ass you just saved.” Dean spoke from bitter experience from the depths of a squishy giant mustard bean bag.

Bobby’s book and paper strewn living room displayed the eclectic choices of a bachelor who didn’t give a crap about interior aesthetics.

Jo’s appearance in her powder blue long sleeved T-shirt, her blond hair hanging loose and freshly brushed over her shoulders put Dean in mind of figurines his mom used to collect. Dresden China they were called. Like Jo the china dolls milk white skin were touched with pink health on their cheeks. God, Jo was hot.

“I don’t.” Jo propped her chin on her hand, her arm on the armrest of the armchair. Her clear brown eyes gleamed with enthusiasm over what she achieved in the past few months. “But most folks do thank you, Dean. Once they realize what you’ve done for them.”

“Sometimes,” Dean conceded fairly. He could always be fair.

“I’m not an asshole like you are, so I guess the people I help just plain feel more kindly towards me,” Jo grinned at him challengingly. “And I’m better looking.”

“Yeah, can’t argue.” Dean put his head back between his hands in peacock display, he wasn’t exactly ugly himself.

Jo not being vision impaired was fully aware of Dean’s weather-beaten attractiveness. Sam while possessed by a demon told Jo Dean would never be interested in Jo, Dean saw her as a little sister. Dean’s eyes checking her out every chance he got today didn’t come across as being fraternally neutral to her.

Demons lied mostly. Jo wanted Dean so bad.

Dean knew Jo liked him and he liked her back. He admired her sassiness and strength of character. But she’d want more than he was free to ever give now. A shame, because he needed to get laid as soon as possible to drive the memories of Faith out of his head.

***
Thursday
Dublin
***
Framed photographs of the Acropolis decorated the white walls, mandolin music played in the background. It would have to be a Greek restaurant, Seamus chose for their first date since she arrived back in Dublin. Faith didn’t enjoy eating in Greek restaurants and it had nothing to do with not liking lamb, although the meat was kind of greasy when she thought about it.

The hunky, goatee beard sporting, waiter brought over the menu for Faith to read. The waiter was a fellow American, over in Ireland for a working vacation. Faith flirted with him to fill in her time waiting for Seamus to finally arrive.

No one could claim to be truly late for anything in the twenty-first century due to cell phones and warning messages. This was however the third time Seamus ran late while meeting her.

Good thing Robin wasn’t the one dating Seamus, the ex-principal would have a nervous breakdown over the guy’s unpunctuality.

Seamus arrived apologetically at last, dinner was consumed, hands were held across the table, footsie was played under it, and desert was skipped so they could hurry back to Faith’s place.

Fumbling, frottage, fingering, fellating, fucking, falling asleep satiated.

A painful kick on his calf caused Seamus to awake groggily at three in the morning. Faith moved her legs, running in her sleep, talking to herself.

“Diana? No, no, no. No words to describe what he did to her.” Faith muttered distressed in her R.E.M. sleep. “No.”

“Faith.” Seamus shook her awake gently. “You’re dreaming, girlie.”

Faith opened her eyes and took in her familiar surroundings with a gulp of relief.

Nightmares were why Faith hated dining at Greek restaurants. Sometimes dreaming about the way Kakistos killed her watcher would make her scream out loud.

***
Thursday
South Dakota
***
Going out to a local bar with Sam and Bobby on half price drink night seemed the easiest solution to getting laid, not hurting Jo and pushing all melancholy memories of Faith to one side.

Like Goldilocks evaluating bowls of oatmeal, Dean faced two sexual choices tonight. Firstly Marilyn, who had a good figure but was ugly from the neck up and dumb as road-kill, and secondly Tierra, shy and mousy, flat as a pancake, but otherwise not barf inducing.

Dean decided Tierra looked the easiest no frills lay judging from the way she was sitting on her bar stool. He bought her a drink and started quickly hitting on her, taking her out the back where they could talk in ‘private’.

Suave compliments throwing her off balance, seductive kissing, shedding enough clothes to enable him to slip inside her, screwing her hard against a wall, squeals, (Holy crap, Tierra sounded like a sow at the county fair when she came), shuddering to a swift release. Wham Bam Thank-you Ma’am.

Faith who?

***
Friday Night
Dublin
***
Why was the missing mate of an earring never where you thought it would be? Faith searched under her dressing table. No, not there.

She walked out into her living room.

“You look nice.” Seamus approved, resplendent in his own Friday night best.

“Thanks.” Faith smoothed down her black mini dress, pleased at his praise. She bent over her couch, hunting behind cushions for the damn earring.

“You can see your knickers when you do that. If you can call that slip of fabric barely covering your bum, underwear.” Seamus changed channels on the TV set. “Does it match your bra?”

“Wait and see, babe.” Faith squatted on the floor and peered under the couch. No, not there.

She tried the kitchen and knocked over the dishwashing liquid on the bench into an open drawer. Crap, liquid soap all over the freaking tea towels. Hey and there was her earring!

The telephone rang. Who the hell called her home number on a Friday night? She’d listed herself on Eircom as being unavailable to telemarketers.

“Could you get that Seamus, thanks?” Faith tried to stop the spread of soap onto her kitchen linen.

Seamus came into the kitchen and held out the cordless telephone to her. “It’s a Yank called Dean for you. He says it’s urgent.”

***
“How didja get my number?” was Faith’s immediate shocked response to Dean’s phone call out of the blue.

“Faith, just listen to me, huh?” Dean and Sam googled the Irish white pages online. There were only six F. Lehanes listed for the whole of Dublin and Dean remembered what suburb Faith said she lived in. “Sam’s had a vision and you’re in serious shit.”

***
Friday Night continued
Dublin
***
Faith opened her hot water cylinder cupboard and pulled out a tomahawk she stored there so it wouldn’t rust.

Faith began to ransack her kitchen pantry, and there behind the garlic powder lay the unopened packet of sea salt. Faith ripped a hole in it with her teeth.

Faith grabbed her milk frother off the coffee mug shelf. The most useless wedding present in existence was finally about to be put to good use.

She smashed the bottom off the glass frother and poured the rock salt packet inside the upturned glass cylinder.

Seamus came into the kitchen puzzled. “Are we leaving anytime soon tonight? What on Earth are you doing?”

Her front door bell rang. Faith opened her kitchen window.

“Don’t answer the door.” Faith warned Seamus quietly, placing a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Seamus demanded impatiently. “And who the hell was that on the phone?”

The door buckled as someone, or ‘something’ slammed against it repeatedly.

“Get down!” Faith screamed at Seamus, jerking him down onto the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing woman?” Seamus yelled, pushing himself up from the tiles. How the bloody hell had his slender girlfriend just managed to achieve knocking him to the ground?

Faith placed her high heeled foot between his shoulder blades and pressed him safely back down on the tiles, how dominatrix of her.

The front door burst open, a lumbering animated corpse came into the living room. It was the cute waiter from the Greek restaurant last night, well formerly cute waiter anyway.

“Holy Mary mother of God!” Seamus felt relieved he had good bladder control.

“Stay down, don’t let it bite you, it’s after me.” Faith kept pressing her boyfriend down on the floor.

The zombie jerked a path into the kitchen. “For Kakistos I live, for Kakistos you’ll die. I'm going to rip your spine from your body, eat your heart and suck the marrow from your bones in his name.” It informed her in the rotting tones of the grave.

“I’m happy for you, pal, I like chicken myself.” Faith stood guard over Seamus. “Make your move.” Kakistos? Kakistos! She’d freak out later when she had the luxury of time to process a panic attack over this unwelcome development in her life.

The zombie reached out its clawed hands to strangle, choking her. Faith stabbed the jagged edged milk frother over his chest and pushed down the plunger.

“Recedo immunda phasmatis!” She coughed furiously. That son of a bitch vampire, screwing up her Friday night plans eight and a half years after she killed him; some undead were real assholes.

Ebony smoke billowed from the zombie’s mouth as the salt exorcised the demon within the dead waiter, flowing out the kitchen window in a black filth.

Faith snatched her tomahawk off the kitchen bench and lopped the zombie’s head off in one powerful stroke.

The zombie collapsed lifeless on the floor a mere dead decapitated body.

Faith removed her shoe off a struggling Seamus’s back to allow him to rise.

Seamus nudged the corpse cautiously with his foot. “Faith darling, I appreciate ladies with hidden depths, but is there something you’re possibly needing to be sharing with me?”

***
Friday Afternoon
South Dakota
***
“God, I hope she’s alright.” Dean paced Bobby’s kitchen floor, tense with anxiety.

“So who’s Faith?” Jo arched an eyebrow in suspicious inquiry.

“This ex-teen runaway Dad helped out one summer almost ten years ago. I ran into her last weekend. She’s got kinda porky, poor chick.” Dean picked up the phone receiver unable to restrain himself any longer to check that Faith was okay.

***
Friday Night Continued
Dublin
***
This guy was a total keeper sadly. Faith couldn’t believe how well he took everything she told him.

“A vampire slayer?” Seamus tapped the beer bottle thoughtfully against his lips as they drank in the living room together. “All things being equal this must be an improvement on the time I found out one of my ex-girlfriends was breaking up with me to become a nun.”

“Don’t you want to dump me over it or tell me vampires and demons don’t exist and I drugged your beer earlier?” Faith sculled back her own beer, she needed Seamus to leave soon so she could smash something because tonight Kakistos reached out from Hades to try and kill her. Faith then needed to call up Giles or Andrew and find out how the hell it was all possible.

“I knew vampires existed.” Seamus twisted his mouth wryly. “I work in a funeral parlor, Faith. I’ve seen a lot of peculiar things in my time.”

“I’m real sorry about this, but I’m gonna hafta break up with you instead.” Faith sighed regretfully.

“And why’s that?” Seamus asked unflappably, taking another swig of beer.

“Because I’m gonna hafta go to the U.S. to help stop an apocalypse and it might be a one way trip.” Faith lit a cigarette with steady hands, not betraying the turmoil she felt inside. Dean would not welcome her presence or interference in his and Sam’s lives and as a slayer she needed to be involved in whatever would happen to Sam. She suspected Dean hid something to do with Sam when she was with him five days ago. “I don’t want to... break up with you.”

Seamus narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “Don’t then.”

The telephone rang. Faith picked it up. “Hi. I’m fine. Thanks for the heads up. I’m kinda busy right now, bud. Call me back tomorrow if you want. You too. Bye.”

Seamus passed her the ash tray. “‘Dean’ eh? Who’s he exactly again?”

“He’s my cousin, sorta.” Faith flicked her ash into the proffered crystal ashtray innocently. “Poor guy has terrible acne scars.”

Chapter Eight:Because the night

2007-05-15T02:37:46Z

Dean thought of Faith as someone only to get off in? Where the hell did that blatantly false accusation come from? He used her to get off ‘with’ not ‘in’. Faith came far more than he did always when they screwed anyway.

If that crap allegation was true, why back then after they finished having sex, did he talk to her late into the night making her laugh, why did he bring her cups of coffee in bed in the morning occasionally, why did he go out with her to the movies once and take her to a county fair? Why did he instinctively hold her hand whenever they walked down a street together?

He’d always tried to treat her decently when she was a kid. He genuinely cared about her towards the end of their time together.

That comment she hatefully spat at him was so stupid, mean and unfair.

Things had been going real great these past thirty hours, the chance to meet up, to make amends to each other, (to participate in the kind of luxurious, uninterrupted, sex they were never able to have as kids a complete unexpected bonus) and Faith screwed it up with her below the belt slur.

It wasn’t the indignant Dean exactly, who was making a transiently bitter Faith angry and upset, it was remembering anew the whole insane summer of 1998, and the mistakes she made and the horrible things she’d done to enable her survival.

And partly, Faith’s conscience pricked her about cheating on Seamus, her new boyfriend seemed a nice enough guy and she’d be fucked off if he couldn’t hold back one lousy week without screwing around on her. Thank god she was flying back to Ireland on Monday.

Faith moved to leave the bed, intending to sleep in the other room, knowing she’d hurt Dean’s feelings. Faith was glad he felt like shit too. No, she didn’t, Christ, where was her redemption tonight, her emotional progress? She stuffed things up so often with guys. She could even stuff up a closure screw with a teenage ex.

“Don’t go. Stop leaving without saying anything, damn you. Don’t be mad at me, Faith.” Dean begged in supplication, back to being a randy but good hearted nineteen year old who didn’t understand the female mind one iota. Hell, even at twenty-eight he didn’t understand the workings of the typical female mind.

“I’m not.” Faith shrugged, deciding she wouldn’t be, why spoil their remaining time together? “It’s kinda a chilly evening. I’m gonna fetch that crocheted sweater I made, to wear back to bed.”

“But Faith, how can I hold myself back, with you in that Victoria Secrets number?” Dean grinned relieved.

“Be fucked if I know. That sweater would make a monk get a hard on, Romeo.” Faith prepared to nip out into the main room.

Dean got up to go with her, double checking she would come back to bed with him, and to get a glass of water. “Tell yourself that Faith, because only a monk would be that sexually needy.”

“That so? You’ll be banging me in this sweater within the next twenty minutes.” Faith predicted, scooping the garment in question off the back of a chair and slipping it on.

“You want some water too?” Dean, in the process of pouring water into a glass, glanced out the misty kitchen window. Damn, it was a cold evening. He wiped the glass with his hand after he noticed vehicle headlights coming down the road.

“Yeah,” Faith came up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, leaning her contrite cheek on his bare back. She felt so gloriously glad they were still pals. They almost blew it back there.

“Hey Faith?” Dean stared appalled out the window at the sheriff’s car slowly cruising the road outside the cabin. “I think we might be might expecting company, sweetheart.”

***
1998
***

The local sheriff’s small town holding cells were small and primitive. The preacher could talk to Faith unimpeded through the bars from the cell beside hers.

Faith climbed up on her cell bunk and examined speculatively the barred window frame of the cell. One sharp tug and she could be free.

“Let me handle this.” Foster urged Faith instead. “Those brain dead religious nuts I saved will have us both bailed and out of here in an hour. We’ll probably get released with dropped charges. Just keep your smart mouth shut.”

“You saved?” Faith climbed down off the bed, remaining clutching around her in belated modesty, the gray blanket the embarrassed ‘family guy’ sheriff gave her the second they reached the jail cell. “You made those fundamentalist retards stop the bus outside my motel, asshole.”

“Well, yeah. I told you I’d be tracking you, kid. Those spook scaring amateurs you’ve been hanging out with, are way too easy to predict movements for.” Foster paced agitatedly in his cell. “And if I can do it, so can Kakistos, once he finds out you’re with the Winchesters. And he’s looking for you, Faithie, he wants your entrails for room decoration, the whole of the demon community in the East Coast and deep South’s trying to find you for the bounty he put out on you this summer. It’s been working for you so far to stay out of sight, but your days are numbered, big time.”

“And you can help me?” Faith repeated, trying to get her head around the bastard’s proposition. “If I screw you, you’ll help me? That’s so frickin’ selfless of you, lover.”

“Yeah, nothing comes free, hasn’t the school of hard knocks taught you that gem yet? Why the hell should I risk my life and not get anything back?” Foster grinned carnally. “Come on, what do you care? Part of you wants to anyway. I think you showed that outside the motel.”

“I was buzzed back there; Santa Claus stickin’ his freakin’ tongue down my throat woulda got me wet.” Faith denied coldly. It was an unfortunate side effect for her of staking vampires. She’d got real horny and felt a fleeting moment of comradeship for him when he kissed her. She’d never met a vampire hunter before Foster.

Foster laughed in her face. “Denial’s a place in Egypt.” He leaned against the bars, his mesmeric eyes and voice playing her. “I’m a kinda complicated man I admit, but nothin’ you couldn’t adjust to temporarily.”

“A vampire hunting lowlife, who gets off on mind games, and wants his dick greased, what the hell’s complicated about that?” Faith guessed she could run away from him once they left town, she’d work the blackmailing prick over first and take whatever cash he carried on him, or she could screw him too, get her food and lodging paid for by his credit card for another week until she reached Sunnydale. Her lifestyle choices were so great this summer.

She must leave the Winchesters now. Sammy saw everything, he’d tell his old man and Dean. The ‘we save damsels in demonic distress on Tuesday’s’ Winchesters would insist on helping her, they’d get tortured to death just like her watcher, and Faith couldn’t take it if that happened to them.

Whereas Faith wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over vampire expert, sexual predator, Foster dying screaming in agony on her behalf.

***
2007
***

“I know the world normally revolves around you in your big head, bud. But it might not be you they’re after.” Faith scrambled into her jeans.

“You don’t say?” Dean hurriedly pulled on a long sleeved t-shirt.

Faith stuffed her feet into her socks and boots. She could end up hiding in the woods tonight. “I haven’t been entirely straight with you, ‘bout why my vacation time in NCWF got cut short.”

“Not straight? But that’s completely out of character for you, baby.” Dean shot at her, before going out into the main room to answer the authoritive knock at the front door.

***
1998
***

“Grab your gear and we’ll go.” Foster hovered over her as Faith knocked on the motel unit door.

Faith shut the door rudely in Foster’s face, leaving him outside as Sammy let her into the motel unit.

“Faith?” Sammy leaned on the door frame, while Faith quickly dressed and feverishly gathered her few belongings together. “Where are you going?”

“California early.” Faith muttered miserably. “Say good bye to ya old man for me. Tell him I said thanks. Tell Dean I said… hell, I dunno, tell him what you want.”

“We’re leaving for California in two days, Faith.” Sammy reminded her. “I know you hate Reverend Sleaze-bag, why are you leaving with him? I didn’t see anything, Faith, nothing I want to know about. I honestly don’t want to know what really happened. I hate all this supernatural crap and I get why you want to stay out of it too.

I can explain everything to Dad. I’ll tell him this fat, old, hysterical lady sat on the chair after the bus crashed here after its rear tyre blew out, and that’s how the chair got broken. I’ve told that to the hotel manager already.

You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Faith. We’ll tell Dad and Dean it was a… um, simple misunderstanding you got arrested by the sheriffs, if the motel manager mentions it to them before they leave today. ”

“I gotta go, Sam.” Faith stood in front of him. “You take care of yourself, huh?”

“You too.” Sammy walked with her to the door.

He watched sadly Faith climb into the Cadillac with the preacher, without a backwards glance at him.

It was four in the morning, the weather continued to make the motel too hot to sleep in. Sammy fixed himself a bowl of cereal and settled down to watch a rerun of Baywatch.

A loud knock came on the door forty minutes later. Sammy peered through the key hole and opened up to a breathless, sweaty, wild eyed, heaving chested Faith.

“Dean and your dad still not here I see, thank freakin’ god.” Faith panted, flinging her bag into the bedroom again. Christ, she didn’t realize she could run miles so fast over a long distance.

“Uh huh.” Sammy put the jug on for coffee. “What made you change your mind?"

Faith threw herself down on the couch, to recover her breath. “The lights were red and that freak, started to explain how he expected me to practice hittin’ a towel with a bullwhip once we got to a hotel, so I could use it on him later.” Faith suspected she’d end up murdering the guy and getting arrested. She’d enjoy the whole power play too much and get carried away. And she still didn’t find Foster complicated.

***
2007
***

“Ya so friggin’ hot when you lie.” Dean closed the door behind the departing sheriff.

“Ditto.” Faith retrieved the flask of whiskey she discovered Dean kept in his jacket hanging on the back of a chair. She took a much needed swig. “Fuck that was close.” She passed the flask over to him.

“A prowler sighted in the area and to be on our guard.” Dean drank from the flask. “Not quite what I was expecting, I gotta say.”

Faith raised her eyes sardonically to the ceiling. “What is, huh?”

“So what were you really inside for, before you escaped?” Dean took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom again.

“None of your business, bud.” Faith removed her socks and boots.

“Arson?” Dean removed his own footwear.

“I’m not telling.” Faith pulled down her jeans and bikini briefs.

“Counterfeiting?” Dean discarded his jeans and boxers.

“Not telling.” Faith repeated, taking off her sweater and bra.

“Some kinda fraud?” Dean persisted, peeling off his upper clothes.

“That’s gotta be your biggest fear there, pal, not mine.” Faith took out a condom from the box on the dresser and tossed it down on a pillow.

They kissed, tasting the whiskey on each others breath, falling back onto the bed together. The old bed emitted a protesting squeak of abused springs.

Fondling and kissing a languored pathway down her body, Dean waited until his face was buried between her open thighs. He circled his tongue softly over her clit.

“Mmm.” Faith pressed her heels deep into the mattress, wallowing in the sensual bliss of his fingers gliding in and out of her wetness, and his tongue lapping at her clit steadily. She clenched her fingers on the flannel sheets, near to her climax.

“You murdered someone didn’t you?” Dean raised his head.

Faith used her right hand to firmly push his head and mouth back down to where they belonged right now. “Not telling!”

Son of a bitch, she’d offed someone! Dean witnessing Faith lying to the local law enforcement in a put on sexy Irish lilt, enabled him to tell when she bluffed.

Dean surrendered his satisfied curiosity to the task at hand. Eating out a murderess, just another run of the mill evening activity for him. He wondered who Faith killed, they probably deserved it.

Faith’s internal muscles clenching around his fingers and the way she cried out her sweet savior’s name in spiritual communion with the universe, signaled to Dean it was gonna be his turn next.

He slithered up her body, his mouth met with an appreciative hard kiss from Faith. He ached to plunge his cock into her bare. God that would rock, to screw her without a latex barrier between them one day.

Faith rolled the condom briskly over his throbbing member and prepared to guide him inside her.

The sound of the living room door being opened made them freeze.

In what was turning out to be the theme of the evening, they jumped out of bed and rapidly pulled on their jeans and tops once more.

“Stay behind me.” Dean whispered protectively, creeping his way to the bedroom door.

“Slayer?” Faith shoved in front of him, flinging open the bedroom door. If it was just kids she’d tell them to scram and if it was adults she’d work out what to do in a second. She didn’t want to hurt anyone and sure as hell wasn’t going to be dialing 911.

“Hey Faith, I’m Connor.” A young white guy dressed in casual gear stood in the living room. “I got passed the wrong address and I’ve been terrifying the bejesus out of the locals trying to work out which cabin was yours.”

Dean watched Faith open her purse and take out a wrapped object.

“Here ya go.” Faith pressed the small parcel into Connor’s hand. “Hope this works for Lorne.”

“Thanks Faith.” Connor saluted her and marched quickly towards the door. “I do too.”

He closed the door behind him and disappeared into the night.

“Who was that guy?” Dean inquired, pushing Faith urgently back to the bedroom. She might pack up and leave immediately, now her mysterious mission that brought her back to the U.S. had obviously been completed.

How could Faith even begin to explain Connor whom she didn’t remember ever meeting?

“Just a guy.” Faith answered vaguely. A guy who needed her help saving the green demon’s life who nursed her caringly and sat beside her failing body in a Los Angeles Hotel so Faith wouldn’t die alone.

Faith hated being back in the U.S., nothing would ever make her live there again, everything here reminded her of bad memories. She could hardly wait to leave the country.

Dean kissed Faith with impassioned ardor knowing he’d never see her again after tonight.

Dean, ever winding up in Ireland?

Hello. Air travel for starters.

Chapter seven: When doves cry

2007-05-14T01:48:42Z

***
2007
***

The row boat sat in the middle of the lake at sunset. The golden and red lake in the rays of the setting sun, contained many wooded islands, and with any good luck, fish. Lake Vermilion, looked very picturesque and crap, Dean pointed out to Faith, enthused.

Faith and Dean drank cold beer and dangled their fishing lines over the side of the boat, planning to catch a walleyed pike for dinner. Neither wore life jackets. Both were cocky about their swimming ability and conscious of continuing to appear devil-may-care in front of the other.

“There’s nothing quite like eating food you’ve killed yourself.” Dean licked his lips with hungry relish.

“What did you mean before, that Sam’s safe with Bobby Singer? Kinda a weird way to describe things.” Faith lit a cigarette, retaining hold of her fishing rod under one armpit.

Dean imagined saying. ‘Sammy boy can see into the friggin’ future. A mega powerful demon wants him to turn evil, so Sammy and other poor saps with gifts like his can be used as the demon’s foot soldiers in an upcoming apocalypse. He’s already murdered someone while possessed by a demon. If Sammy turns evil permanently, I’m gonna hafta kill him like I promised I would to him. Kill my own baby brother. Bobby can watch out for Sammy and protect him for a little while. I just needed to get away from the whole frickin’ mess for two days before I went crazy.’

Dean didn’t want to go into it. Maybe Faith would tell people who would try and kill Sammy if Dean did. She explained her calling and gift was to kill demons.

But Dean would never tell Faith anyway, because he couldn’t off-load his problems onto a chick, even if Faith could be guaranteed to be trusted, Dean needed to be strong and independent, be a man and suck it up. “Sammy’s still kinda clueless.”

“The kid was more switched on than you were back then.” Faith exhaled smoke from between her lips slowly.

***
1998
***

Sammy couldn’t hear so much, as he just knew; Faith lay on the bed sobbing her heart out in her bedroom.

Dean and his Dad, had left Faith and Sam once more to their own devices, to investigate the latest oogly boogly, an hour ago.

Sammy suspected something new had been weighing on Faith’s mind for the past two days, ever since the county fair she went to with Dean.

“Hey Faith, are you alright?” Sammy knocked on the door. “I know you’re crying.”

“I’m freakin’ wicked dandy, just leave me the hell alone!” Faith yelled furiously back at him through the closed door.

Sammy didn’t like to think about her reaction if he went into her room unasked. He picked up his dog eared copy of ‘Lord of the Rings’ and waited on the single bed in the main room.

Faith slouched out into the main room of the motel unit, with blood shot eyes, wrapped in a towel, and headed immediately into the bathroom.

Sammy waited some more.

Faith strutted out of the bathroom in her blue skirt and a black t-shirt, with heavy make-up plastered on. Her too dark lipstick set John’s teeth on edge whenever he saw it smeared on her mouth.

“You can still tell you’ve been bawling, even with that entire truck load of gunk on your face.” Sammy turned a page in his book dispassionately. “Try wet tea bags under your eyes, soaks up the puffiness.”

“Is that what a frickin’ little homo like you uses?” Faith boiled a jug of water and poured it over two tea bags. “When you get picked on at your redneck high school, for being a mutant freak of nature?”

“My aunt does the tea bag routine, bitch. Now stick them in the freezer to cool down.” Sammy instructed. God, Faith was freaking nasty sometimes.

Faith also was someone near Sammy’s own age he’d been hanging out with constantly for over five weeks, and he knew a hell of a lot more about Faith, than big brother Dean or the old man did. Dean screwed Faith before falling asleep and the old man tried to pretend she didn’t exist. It was Sammy who talked the most to Faith, accompanied her on walks exploring the hick towns they found themselves in, played cards with her at night while they watched television together and waited until Dean and John came home.

Faith put the tea bags on a plate and placed them in the ice box of the fridge.

“Is there anything I can do?” Sammy offered awkwardly, he was only fifteen but he knew something was scaring the crap out of her right now. Maybe just maybe, he could do something to make things better for her.

Faith shot him a jaded look, did the pimple faced, beanpole, want her to blow him too? Faith saw Sammy didn’t, he honestly wanted to help her without wanting anything in return.

“Nah.” Faith kicked the fridge with her bare foot in frustration. She put Sammy in mind of a caged restless cougar. “It’s nothin’ I can’t work out on my own.”

Faith put the cold tea bags over her eyes once she lay down on the couch in the main room. “How come you don’t have the hots for me, Uncle Sam, any more than rubber necking at my boobs in cold water when I swim?”

“You’re fugly, you’re short, your body’s kinda out of proportion and you’re real mean sometimes.” Sammy didn’t find Faith attractive at all from the neck up or down, well, maybe her rack. He didn’t get why Dean couldn’t keep his hands off her, Sammy sure could.

“I appreciate you think that, wicked bizarre as it is.” Faith often thought she was fucking ugly too, she wished the rest of mankind shared Sammy’s low opinion of her body. Life would be so much easier that way.

***
2007
***

Still dressed in their fishing clothes Dean and Faith cleaned up after dinner.

“You almost tipped the boat over!” Dean smacked the tea towel on her ass lightly, as they washed the dishes in the kitchen part of the cabin.

“No, you did landing the fish.” Faith flicked soap suds from the draining sink at him.

“Ow. That got in my eye.” Dean held his hand up to his right eye.

“Shit, sorry, ya big sook.” Faith wiped the bench down.

“You could kiss it better.” Dean suggested, hanging the tea towel up to dry.

“Your eyeball?” Faith raised her eyebrows.

“The pain has traveled.” Dean enfolded Faith in his arms again; she felt all warm and curvy pressing into him.

“Let me guess where to.” Faith snickered, snuggling against his chest. Yuck, he smelled of fish guts from scaling and cleaning the fish they caught. “Do you wanna have a shower together and then have an early night?”

Dean checked his watch. “Go to bed at nine? You clearly need all the beauty sleep you can get but I’ll need lots of help getting off.”

“I thought you’d be big on D.I.Y. isn’t that how you must be living most of the time?” Faith guessed cruelly, “If you haven’t had a steady girlfriend in the past two years…”

“I had a long term intimate relationship with a magic fingers bed for a while, but I worked out in the end it was only interested in me for my quarters.” Dean stroked the small of her back. “There’s this girl called Jo, she’s kinda young, but she knows about the life, is starting hunting herself. So at least she’d know what she’d be getting into. Which was always the main problem with that girl, Cassie, I told you about.”

“So what’s stopping you?” Faith’s dark eyes gazed into his imperturbably. She raised her mouth towards his.

“The hallowed memory of you of course, Faith baby, I never got over your faked gruesome death, and you frigging ruined me for any chick who came after you in bed, you were so god-damn incredible in the sack. A guy never forgets his first love or car.” Dean deadpanned joking. ‘Plus Sammy tried to kill Jo while possessed and my old man killed her old man, and that’s a real relationship downer.’ He added mentally.

“We were never in love with each other, Dean.” Faith quirked her mouth in amusement.

“We shoulda been, Faith.” Dean kissed her softly.

Faith broke the kiss. “I thought you were never gonna feed me bullshit lines.”

“I’m not.” Dean kissed her again more firmly, a hint of possessiveness in his touch upon her.

Faith broke the kiss once more and walked away from him quickly. “You stink, pal, let’s shower.”

“I stink? The smoker says, I stink?” Dean switched back to the banter. Damn, he ever tried to be emotionally honest with her and she could never handle it.

***
1998
***

The weather’s temperature made it too hot to wear any clothing. Faith tried to settle on top of her lumpy bed, cursing the fact this motel relied on fans, not air conditioning for cooling. The whirling, noisy, ceiling-fan above her bed merely circulated stifling hot air around the room.

How could she sleep, especially with everything on her mind at present?

At least Dean and his father weren’t here tonight and weren’t expected back until dawn, giving Faith the rare opportunity to be alone with her thoughts.

Faith’s thoughts made crap company. Mostly they consisted of different voices whirling around in her brain, telling her how stupid and worthless she was, how freaking valueless, what a natural loser, a filthy slut and a total freak she was, always had been, always would be.

The screeching sound of a bus coming to a halt outside the motel, came just in time, before Faith started to play back the loop tape in her mind of everything bad and mean her mom ever did and said to her.

Faith heard panicked screams, terrified shouts and feral growls, coming from out in the courtyard. She jumped off the bed, scuttling to the window, pulling open the curtain, peeking through, careful not to expose herself.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Faith’s startled eyes took in a busload of Southern Baptists being attacked by vampires.

Instantly she sprang into action, her slayer instincts kicking into gear. She sprinted into the main room and seized a dining chair, smashing the chair’s front legs on the floor to make a stake.

Sammy came out of his room, clad in boxer shorts, his bony, bare chest glistening with sweat, wide awake, like Faith he found it hard to go to sleep that night. “What’s happening?”

“Just stay inside for Christ’s sake. Don’t whatever you do, let anyone in. Let me handle it.” Faith’s tone made it clear these were life or death instructions she issued.

Faith picked up her stake and ran to the door.

“But Faith, wait… you’re not wearing any… clothes.” Sammy stuttered to the slammed shut motel unit front door. Faith sure did have great hooters, Sammy reflected surreally.

He shuffled over to the front window to peer out, at the incredible scene taking place in the front courtyard of the roadside motel.

The bus outside contained over thirty screaming victims, fleeing into the courtyard, and their demon attackers. Sammy couldn’t work out who was who, at first. The demons would look human, until their visages shifted shape, fangs jutting out of their mouths.

Faith waded into the mêlée, fists flying, delivering powerful uppercut swings at demon jaws, roundhouse kicking and at one stage doing a back-flip against the side of the bus, which bore the logo, ‘New Mexico Southern Baptist Chapter 49’. Seeing how Faith fought stark naked, the sight made Sammy slack jawed with disbelief. It made him kind of horny too.

The preacher from the revival meeting, pulled up ten minutes later, in a rust bucket of an open top, sports Cadillac. He stood up and began firing crossbow bolts. At first Sammy guessed the guy must have crap aim, because the preacher fired a crossbow bolt at one of the bus’s rear tires. After the one misfire however, the preacher began sighting the crossbow at the demons and his aim rocked.

The eight demons exploded into dust, whenever Faith plunged the broken chair leg or the preacher fired a crossbow bolt into their hearts.

No other demons seemed to be left.

Everyone on the bus crowded around Faith and the preacher, babbling their gratitude, slapping them on the back. The preacher broke away, pushing through the crowd and strode over to Faith, he took her into his arms, dipping her back and kissed her! What the blazes?

Faith responded! God, what a complete ho! What the hell did Dean see in the skank? No, hold on, she was pushing the sleazoid preacher away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, looking disgusted with herself, and the newly arrived local sheriffs were arresting both Faith and the preacher for lewd and indecent behavior.

Holy Fuck!

John would have washed Sammy’s mouth out with soap if he knew Sammy thought like that.

***
2007
***

Lying in bed, snug under the flannel sheet and blankets, Dean anticipated Faith’s return from the bathroom soon.

The first thing she did upon crawling back into bed with him, was place her chilled feet on his shins to warm up.

“Spreading the love?” Dean stoically endured the icicles on his legs.

“Yep.” Faith nuzzled into his chest.

“Your cell went off twice while you were gone.” Dean kissed her nose.

“Ooh.” Faith pulled instantly away and fumbled for her cell phone in her brown leather purse, that lay on the bedside table.

She showed Dean the messages. The first was a group photo, of drunk, boisterous, Irish gals and guys in a pub, crowded into a booth, giving thumbs up signs and rabbit ears over wasted mates.

“FAITH U PIKER. C WOT UR MISSING OUT ON IN LONDON?” read the accompanying message.

“My friends.” Faith grinned pleased.

“London?” Dean scrutinized the image carefully. They did look like nice people, young, happy, carefree. Lucky them.

“They don’t know I’m back stateside. No one’s meant to.” Faith clicked onto the next message.

“FAITH ME ANGEL. WE STILL ON 4 DINNER THURS? SEAMUS.”

“Who’s Seamus?” Dean propped his head up on his hand, resting on the pillow.

“My current squeeze.” Faith switched her phone off guiltily.

Dean arched an eyebrow. “Open relationship?”

“We’ve only been dating two weeks. He’s a funeral director, he kept coming into the flower shop to arrange wreaths." Faith didn't need to excuse herself to Dean Winchester of all people. "Look, you’re just a freebie, Dean.”

“A freebie?” Dean was intrigued.

“I don’t do crap like this anymore, humping someone, less than ten hours of meeting up with them.” Faith turned flat on her back and pressed her head against the pillows. “It’s not me right now or ever again.”

“So why are you letting me screw you? If ya all born again straight and narrow,” Dean sounded skeptical.

Terrific, she’d used him again. What the hell was he? Her one last fling, before she became completely normal and boring? Apparently, she’d started to learn how to knit from her landlady. Her brown hand crocheted sweater hanging up to dry in the living room, was the most botched job Dean ever saw, and he didn’t care Faith told him she only wore it to bed.

Faith remained silent, seething with suppressed conflicting emotions.

“Thanks, I’m so friggin’ glad I could be your blast from the past.” Dean felt so pissed off at her. So... hurt.

“Don’t give me that shit. What was I to you, Dean? Except some…” Faith floundered for the right word. “Some fuckin’ ‘receptacle’, for you to get off in?”

Chapter six: Welcome to the jungle

2007-05-12T14:31:12Z

***
2007
***

At two in the morning, Dean rolled over in bed and opened his eyes groggily. Faith’s body no longer lay spooned against his, how he remembered them falling asleep together after they made love a second time. He heard the front door close.

Bitch.

Snatching his jeans off the floor, Dean thrust one foot in the garment and then the other. His heart pounding with hurt outrage, he ran out the bedroom, into the main room and flung the front door open.

Faith was kneeling in the back seat of her car, clearly planning to desert him once more without a backwards glance.

“Don’t you do this, Faith!” Dean stumbled down the cabin’s front steps, running over to the car, pulling the car door open and yelling in at her. “Don’t you leave me again without saying good bye!”

Faith backed out off the back seat and stood up with a plastic store bag. Clad solely in Dean’s sweater, she regarded him in disbelief as she stood barefoot on the wet grass. “Take a chill pill.” She held up her full plastic bag. “I told you my sweaters were wet, I remembered they were still sitting in the back seat and didn’t want them to get mildew, Captain Panic Attack.”

“Huh.” Dean guessed he might have over reacted.

Faith clicked the door lock button on her car keys. “You coming back to bed? Or you got any more abandonment issues you wanna hash out?”

“Why don’t we rap about your issues, Faith?” Dean suggested as they walked back into the cabin together. He slapped his forehead. “Oh, hold on I forgot, we’re only here another two days.”

“Hey, we’d need a week to cover yours, pal.” Faith grabbed a bucket from underneath the kitchen sink and filled it with warm water. “And a whole month to cover mine.”

“You know I was completely outta my depth with how screwed up you were as a kid?” Dean handed her the plastic bag off the floor.

Faith plonked her three sweaters in the water. “Who wouldn’t be?”

***
1998
Texas
***

“Do you want me to buy you a packet of razors?” Dean came into their bedroom with pieces of toilet paper stuck to his bleeding jaw. “So you stop using mine to shave your legs and blunt the freaking blades?” God, it was like they were married. Faith had been with them for exactly five weeks today.

Her period started four days ago. Much to John’s profound ‘not ready to be a grandfather’ relief, combined with mortification at accidentally discovering the fact by glancing at the motel bathroom waste basket and noticing a discarded Tampax box in the trash. Female cycles, he didn’t want to go there. He never wanted to know about Mary’s.

“Yeah, seein’ how otherwise I’ll have to shop-lift ‘em, that’d be great.” Faith approved, sitting on the bed, putting down the music magazine she’d stolen from a library. She threw a pillow at Dean’s frowning face. “It’s okay to shoplift from big chains, Saint Dean. They mark up their prices to cover the loss. It’s not like I get off on it.”

“You’re gonna get busted one day, frisked down by some mouth breathing security guard.” Dean picked up the pillow from the floor and joined her on the bed. “Planning on five finger discounting in California? What do you want to do there anyway?”

To stay alive, Faith desired primarily. Hopefully once she made contact with this other slayer in Sunnydale, she’d get her own watcher, live with them for free like she did in Boston and slay vampires again which she missed doing. She itched to stake vampires, like a junkie jonesed for a hit. “I dunno. What would you wanna be, if you didn’t spend your life huntin’?”

“Be the owner of my own auto repair garage.” Dean put his head on her lap. He would be leaving the motel with his father in ten minutes. No real time remained available to do anything in bed. He just liked … being like this with her. “Or a Formula One driver, or a fire fighter, or an astronaut.”

“Sounds outta this world.” Faith ran her fingers through his short hair. “Guess you can play pretend.”

“Faith, just because I don’t wanna whack you on the butt and call you all the mean names under the sun, doesn’t mean I’m …. It doesn’t turn me on in the freaking slightest, hurting chicks, sorry.” Dean sighed, pressing his cheek against her mended skirt.

He screwed up first and he wished he hadn’t. “I was an asshole going out with that girl to the bar last night without you.” The freckled cute waitress he’d rescued from a demon, came across as all grateful and impressed by him, like Faith should be.

“You can do what you want, pal. It’s not like I was jealous for god’s sake. And like I told you, that spanking shit’s ‘cathartic’.” Ronnie taught her that word and how intense it could feel being treated that way and then being made love to gently afterwards.

Faith knew she narrowly escaped being left behind in Austin, after her retarded attempt to keep Dean interested in her. Faith panicked when she found out about Dean getting all friendly with the waitress, and she’d managed that night before Dean came home, to sneak off to a cemetery across the road from the motel, to stake a vampire clawing it’s way out of a grave, so she’d been all buzzed.

Dean stroked her shin. He wasn’t a prude, or hung up, or anything, he just couldn’t be bothered with any of that bondage and discipline crap. He’d tied up an ex-girlfriend once at her request. It was like boning a hostage. “Ya freaking perverted, hate to break it to you, baby.”

Faith pulled his hair playfully. Dean Vanilla Winchester, didn’t even try and stick it in her ass. Thank Christ; because that was one of Faith’s boundaries, being banged up the ass hurt her like hell afterwards and not in a good way. “I’m not into that shit anymore, relax. I was trying to jazz things up in bed, that’s all.”

“I’m not sick of you, okay?” Dean kept stroking her leg. He didn’t want to ask her if she was bored with him.

“Okay.” Faith didn’t know how much longer she could keep existing like this. Keeping herself in constant check, trying not to be too mean to Sam, being at Dean’s sexual beck and call, like a bitch in heat, even though she enjoyed screwing him, it tore her up inside with the stress of being something she wasn’t. Unless, being some kind of scummy on and off hooker like her mom was Faith’s true calling, and she couldn’t deal with that either.

***
2007
***

“This is not life as I know it.” Dean walked through the furniture warehouse in the nearest local big town to the cabin, shuddering at the store’s suburban customers becoming ecstatic over discounted armchairs.

“No? Wow, that oriental lampshade is only five dollars, what would that be in Euros?” Faith grabbed the packaged lampshade on display immediately and tucked it under her arm. It would squeeze into her bag to take back with her on the plane. “This baby will completely match the rug I have in my living room.”

“So you don’t go stir crazy living the nine to five grind, working in a florist store and living in the one place?” Dean checked, his arm wrapped round her waist securely again.

“Are you serious?” Faith rolled her eyes yet again. “Dublin kicks ass, man. My apartment’s great, the old couple I rent it off, give me vegetables from their garden. I’ve got real good friends there, people who don’t steal from you or leave their gear in the can after they’ve shot up, people who have actual lives. My boss at the flower shop’s got the best sense of humor. This sixteen year old slayer, Siobhan, lives there too and we team up together for patrolling with her watcher. My life’s never been this ‘functional’ before and it rocks, Dean.”

“Why Ireland of all places?” Dean narrowly avoided two kids running past them with sticky ice-cream cones.

“The magic worked best to give me a new identity from there.” Faith spotted the cushion aisle. You virtually needed a map in this joint. “Don’t ask me, I’m not Hermione Granger or this witch called Willow who pulled the paper trail for me. I’m not erased from the American Judicial System suckfully, they still have my fingerprints. But they don’t screen Irish citizens at the airports here, thank god.”

“Why did you need a new identity? Why aren’t you based out of Cleveland? Isn’t that where all the American slayers have their giant soriety dorm, head office?” Dean took out the folded piece of newspaper they’d traced the outline of the burnt cushion around, placing it over couch cushions, finding a match.

Faith saw herself telling the truth ‘yeah, but I’m a wanted murderer Dean, so I needed to go to the U.K. in a fucking hurry in 2003, before I ended up killing cops or they killed me.’ Faith smiled inspired. “The guy put in charge of Cleveland eventually, was an ex I never wanna see again.” Ex-one night stand anyhow, and she could never look at the guy without wondering what the fuck had she been thinking at the time, she hadn’t even been drinking.

“This cushion works.” Dean carried it with him while they discovered the checkout's location.

Faith paid for the cushion. Dean flirted with the checkout operator. “My girlfriend drives me crazy with her interior decoration schemes. I could be home watching football but I live to make her happy.”

The temporary couple found Faith’s car once more in the crowded parking lot.

“If I was your girlfriend, you’d be watching football right now, leaving beer rings on the coffee table, while I came back from grocery shopping.” Faith possessed no illusions. She unlocked the car doors.

“And you’d be nagging me to mow the lawns.” Dean got inside the hire car. “Except I’d cement them so you wouldn’t need to.”

“Why not put astro turf down? Then you could have your buds over, get all wasted at our Saturday night barbeques, play dodge ball in the back yard and someone would hafta be driven to the hospital with suspected concussion.” Faith suggested alternately, checking the oncoming traffic before she pulled out onto the busy main road.

“But that couldn’t be you on the mercy dash, because you’d have gotten too buzzed already with your gossiping girlfriends from your Tuesday night dance class.” Dean pointed to the road sign. “Left.”

“Is it making your dick shrink I’m driving?” Faith guessed it was left after all. She did a sharp U-turn that made Dean’s eyes water.

“Fuck you too, bud!” Faith yelled back at a shellshocked fellow road user who slammed his fist down on his horn at her.

“So go on, what else do we do?” Faith turned on the car stereo. Hard rock blared forth.

“Never fight about music.” Dean indicated the music playing over the stereo. “We fight about… the fact you want to go to Hawaii on our next vacation and I wanna go to Alaska.”

“Alaska, who the hell would choose Alaska over Hawaii?” Faith sped up for an orange light.

“See? We’ve been arguing about it for months now.”

***
1998
Arizona
***

They’d spent twenty minutes arguing about the incident. Faith thought enough time had been wasted already. This was meant to be a fun outing. Dean was only grumpy because she proved better at a knife throwing competition at the county fair than him. Faith proved to be way better than anyone else at the fair. She shouldn’t have entered. The preacher was right. The one hundred bucks prize money had been just too tempting.

Dean parked the car by the woods. The woods should be a romantic place to make love in, and safe, seeing how Dean and his father had taken out the evil spirit that had been haunting it.

“Forget about the preacher.” Faith undid Dean’s belt, unzipped his jeans and pushed his boxer shorts down.

“Don’t change the subject. What were you talking to that white dog-collared creep about, outside the fortune teller’s tent?” Dean considered it cheating on both his body’s and her part, that her hands stroking his hardening shaft and her moist breath on his balls were making him no longer care.

“My soul.” Faith swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, pumping the shaft with her hand. She put the head of his cock in her mouth and sucked gently. Her right hand kept a steady rhythm, while she cupped and caressed his balls with her left. She moved her head around in a figure eight position (a sharing ex-boyfriend had guided her in this technique) up and down. She began to gently suck his cock, sliding her mouth down, further and further, as far as she could take it.

Dean finally shut up.

Giving head could get real boring when you weren’t in the mood. Faith hoped Dean wouldn’t take too long to come tonight.

After pumping her head up and down for a while, Faith moved on to his balls. Licking, sucking, never biting, she’d done that trick aged fifteen while stoned, to a guy accidentally once, and got instantly punched in the head by her screaming victim for her dangerous mistake.

She kept stroking Dean's cock. Dean was groaning, great. In one sweeping motion she licked up from his balls, tonguing his shaft and deep throated him as far as she comfortably could.

Faith moved her head up and down rapidly in time with her hand, licking hard with her tongue. Dean pressed her head down with his hand. Faith jammed her tongue to stop his cock entering her mouth any further, otherwise she would throw up and she’d freaking told him that before.

Dean came in her mouth with the familiar grunt she knew so well. Faith held his cum in her mouth, opened the car door, and spat the cum outside on the grass. Christ she hated herself right now. Especially after what the preacher had told her.

“Are you okay, Faith?” Dean touched her shoulder hesitantly, as she sat back in the front seat of the car.

“Five by five.” Faith turned to him and smiled brightly. She was up a hundred bucks tonight, she was still on top.

“You don’t seem okay.” Dean put his arms around her. She was stiff and cold in his embrace. He didn’t get her and he didn’t get this whole set up he’d wound up in with her and thank god, they were in California next week.

She suddenly relaxed against him, hugging him fiercely and Dean didn’t ever want her to leave.

Faith buried her head against his chest and heard him inhale the scent of her hair. Mr. Vanilla had a hair fetish, typical. God, she was gonna die in the most hideous way imaginable and no one could help her except that preacher. And what he wanted in return…

That blow job she just gave Dean was gonna be great practice for it.

***
2007
***

Faith lay back, her ass on edge of the kitchen table, without a stitch of clothing on her, Dean stroked in and out of her slowly, his jeans around his ankles.

“We do this every Saturday afternoon, huh?” Faith wondered why he got to keep his clothes on. To save on her doing the laundry? Dean stopped thrusting in order to bend down and suck her left nipple until she gasped. She guessed that must be why.

“Yeah, before you start making dinner.” Dean switched to her right nipple.

“Me? No way, weekends you cook. Anyway, we’re having friends round tonight, remember?” Faith whimpered as his fingers began to toy with her clit.

“I’ll be firing the barbeque shortly.” Dean resumed stroking in and out of her, his fingers gently rubbing at her.

Faith swore harshly and came shuddering and squeezing around him. “I could make a lot of cracks about meat here, bud.”

“So could I.” Dean grunted, thrusting into her hard one last time. He ejaculated inside her and almost passed out with the force of the sensation.

Faith widened her eyes as he fell on top of her, pressing her back on the kitchen table. “Dean?”

Faith chuckled and stroked the back of his neck, waiting for him to recover.

“Whew,” he shook his head against her chest, coming back down to Earth. “So what do ya want for dinner tonight anyway?”

Chapter five: Nights in white satin

2007-05-10T05:28:52Z

AN: All scenes pick up directly from previous chapter.

***
2007
***

Dean occasionally speculated after certain disastrous one night stands throughout small town America, (the chick who threw up in bed all over him, the chick who kept crying and said she was only sleeping with Dean to get back at her boyfriend, the chick who clearly had an STD and slapped him when he refused to screw her, the chick possessed by an evil spirit when she was deep throating him, god that one had been a near miss) why the hell sex could never be like in the movies. Why couldn’t kissing Faith be like the love scene from ‘Armageddon’ or ‘Terminator’? Why did it have to turn out like a scene from ‘there’s something about Mary’ or ‘the 40 year old virgin’?

Dean pushed his tongue in and out of Faith’s mouth, as together they rolled back and forth over the couch cushions on the floor in front of the fire. A soft keening sound came muffled from the back of her throat. It felt so natural, so right, to have her back in his arms again.

Faith could taste the cigar and beer in his mouth; she could feel the hard muscles on his back. The wiry dreamer she met nine years ago, grew up so good! Dean smelled of cheap motel soap, some things never changed, the familiar smell reminded Faith of all the summer nights she’d inhaled the fragrance on Dean’s skin, burying her face in his neck as he came inside her. Faith could smell something less pleasant.

“Holy shit!” Faith shoved him away from her. “Dean, the cushion’s on fire!”

They both sprang up. The left cushion’s corner burnt and melted, flames spreading rapidly.

Dean poured his remaining beer over the flames. The cushion fire seemed out.

“God that stinks.” Dean picked the dripping couch cushion up carefully, carrying it out to the grass in front of the cabin.

“The floor’s unmarked. I’ll replace the cushion tomorrow.” Faith commented matter of factly, coming out onto the porch, watching him place the ruined cushion on the grass. “Did you notice a Wal-Mart in that town?”

“No, but I think there was a Mom and Pop furniture store down from the liquor store, that might stock couch cushions.”

They stared at each other, not knowing quite what to say next for a second. The mood had kinda departed.

***

1998
***

Dean watched Faith’s face contort with her climax, thinking her expression when she came, one of the few times she looked truly honest. He stopped strumming her clit with his fingers and looked up hopefully.

“Yeah, come if you want.” she panted her permission graciously, pushing her hair off her sweaty forehead. Damn, she’d left bleeding scratch marks on the poor guy’s forearms.

“Geez, how swell. Are you sure? I mean was six times enough for you?” Dean grunted sarcastically. Man, was she bossy tonight in the sack.

Faith grinned and clenched internally once around his throbbing, straining, tortured cock. Dean ground himself upwards in her to the hilt. Shooting forth his seed in six spurts of ecstasy.

“Thanks for the ride.” Faith climbed off him, leaving Dean with the wet patch and rubber disposal.

“Are all girls as horny as you?” Dean put his arms behind his head and listened to Faith walk over to her bed to sleep.

“I dunno, hafta ask them.” Faith pulled the covers back on her bed and hopped in.

“But I don’t know many girls, Faith, so I’m asking you. What do you do when you haven’t got a boyfriend?” Dean had always been curious about girls’ masturbation habits.

“Huh?” Faith didn’t understand what he was getting at.

“How often do you make yourself... you know, get off?” Maybe he should have said ‘come.’ He must be smoother in future. Faith was great practice for everything to do and not what to do with chicks, because no matter how deep he put his foot in his mouth with her she couldn’t walk out the door.

“That’s personal and none of your damn business.” Faith was not talking about that! Because she did it a hell of a lot, and playing with herself was kind of dirty, and Faith was freaking dirty she long ago realized, thanks to her ex-boyfriend Ronnie, but she was allowed to have boundaries, Ronnie taught her that too. “What, just ‘cause I’m screwin’ you, you think I’m gonna tell you my innermost secrets and crap?”

“Its okay, you don’t have to be shy about it. I mean we all do it. Not me so much.” Dean knew Faith wouldn’t buy the feeble lie. Her snort of disbelief in the dark motel room confirmed this. “I never thought you’d be hung up.”

“I’m not.” Faith flipped her pillow over to lie against more comfortably.

“Then how often do you do it?” Dean persisted. “If you’re not hung up about anything, you won’t care if I know.”

“You shoot your mouth off about everythin’ I take it?” Faith sneered defensively, stretching out her finger to peel off a strip of ripped wallpaper from the wall. “The ice cubes the other night and what you told your old man, shows how open you are obviously.”

Dean tried not to remember the incredulous look on his father’s face, as John came out of the bathroom at four in the morning and observed Dean carrying a tray of ice cubes into the bedroom. Dean’s ridiculous stammered excuse. His Dad shaking his head and walking back to his bedroom. “It’s just a question, Faith.”

“That I’m never gonna answer.”

***
2007
***

Their shoes and clothes lay piled on the floor. They stood naked in the cabin’s main bedroom. The bed covers were off the bed. A waiting condom sat between the pillows. But they still weren’t making love yet, and the fault lay at Dean’s door or maybe Faith’s, they were just too instantly comfortable with each other again.

“It’s just a question, Faith.” Dean couldn’t let the chance to tease her pass about her legs being hairy while her pubic hair no longer remained. Was that considered hot in Ireland?

“Waxing cycles, it’s a chick thing, Dean. I wasn’t expecting to get laid this weekend.” Faith cuffed him on his head, pissed off at him wasting time clowning around, pissed off at herself for not bringing a razor blade along and shaving her legs in the shower earlier when she had the chance. “Do you wanna fuck me or not?”

Dean lunged at her to drag her down on the double bed with him.

“Always.” he told her sincerely.

***
1998
***

“Faith, don’t be mad at me.” Dean walked over to her bed and slipped in beside her. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Do you wanna have sex again?” Faith was tired and wanted to go to sleep now. “Can I jerk you off instead?”

“No, I want you to quit being mad.” Dean put his arms around her. He inhaled the scent of her hair. He kissed her brow. “Please?”

“I’m not mad.” Faith conceded grudgingly. Dean showed no signs of leaving her bed. She moved over and let him have more room.

“I like you, Faith.” Dean whispered in her ear sheepishly.

“That’s wicked nice, Dean.” Faith mumbled, as she drifted off to sleep with his arms around her. “I like you too.”

***
2007
***

“Do you still like it when I do this?” Dean filled her up inside slowly inch by inch with his cock. She sure looked liked she did.

“Do you still like it when I do this?” Faith squeezed internally, smiling up at him from the bed.

Dean thrust hard in and out of her, in immediate validation to her question.

***
1998
***

The morning sun filtered into the motel room. Unusually, Dean awoke first. Faith remained slumbering beside him. He sat up in bed and watched her sleep, thinking how pretty she looked while softly breathing. How innocent and sweet.

“What the hell are you staring at?” Faith opened her eyes suddenly, instantly wide awake.

“Your bruise is almost gone.” Dean trailed his finger beneath the mark on her cheek gently.

“I told you I heal fast.” Faith relaxed back on the pillow. “I was havin' a dream about my mom. I was little.”

Faith mentioned to Dean two days ago, Sammy should quit his whining about their Dad’s occasional benders, because at least John never beat the crap out of the boys when he came home wasted, like Faith’s mom did to her.

Faith left the motel unit bedroom immediately after this candid revelation. Dean found Faith swimming backwards and forwards frenziedly in the motel pool. He climbed over the locked fence surrounding the pool, waiting patiently on a wooden deck chair until she climbed out. She told Dean she didn’t want to talk about her mother, to forget she’d said anything. Her mother died five months ago, which left nothing to say. Faith and Dean climbed back over the fence, went back to bed and indulged in rougher sex than they usually did. Dean followed Faith’s lead in the matter.

Dean risked asking Faith a question about her mother this morning. “Do you miss her?” Dean’s fingers walked over her face.

“How can you miss a useless waste of space?” Faith stared up at the ceiling. Her mother’s neglect and abuse would get so bad Faith would be sent into foster care. Faith’s mom used to have a goofy smile and would call her firecracker. Everything was ugly and chaotic where Faith grew up and the wider world contained even more chaos and ugliness. “Do you miss yours?”

“How can you miss someone you don’t remember?” Dean’s mother used to say the angels would protect their family when she tucked him in at night. His mom was clearly wrong. Angels didn’t exist, God didn’t watch out for good people and Dean doubted if God existed, there was just chaos and spirits, mostly evil ones. Maybe if his mother hadn’t been so naïve and wrong, she wouldn’t have left her family to fall to pieces without her.

“Why did you go to that revival meeting last night, Faith?” Dean got out of bed, crouching over his bag to retrieve his toiletries from a plastic bag, preparing to shower and shave. “Do you believe in that crap? Were you looking to get saved?”

“What do I need to get saved from? I’m good; no one’s ducking me in the Rio Grande. I dunno, I wanted to see with my own eyes. I wanna know things.” Faith grabbed her towel off the floor and raced to the door. “I wanna get to the bathroom before you do, sucker.”

“No!” Dean flung himself backwards and caught her by the ankle with an outstretched arm. He pulled hard and Faith fell down on top of him.

“Freakin' asshole.” Faith bent down to kiss him. She felt Dean should be rewarded for getting the drop on her for once.

John knocked on their bedroom door. “Faith! There’s that preacher from last night, Reverend Foster, here to see you’re okay this morning.”

Faith pulled clothes on, putting on her jeans. Her skirt was filthy and ripped from fighting the six guys from the night before.

She wore her one other t-shirt, seeing how she was meeting a man of the cloth at eight in the morning. Hopefully John Winchester would notice this effort on her part.

John didn’t, he did however pass her a coffee.

“How are you my child?” The preacher took Faith by the hand, checking immediately her face. “Quite recovered I see. God’s healing love undoubtedly. May I speak to you alone outside for a minute?”

“What for?” John and Faith chorused together paranoid.

“To see that the child is not being taken advantage of.” The dark haired man announced sternly, his gray eyes flint cold. “Why is a girl from the East Coast traveling unchaperoned with a man and his sons? I detect fornication happening in this godless set up.”

“They have separate beds.” John announced quickly, as Sammy came into the main room bleary eyed, resembling a zombie in search of cereal not brains.

“Legal screwing.” Faith removed her hand from the preacher's grasp. “I’m twenty-one. I have I.D. to prove it.”

“Of course you do. Nevertheless, a word, little gal?” The preacher put his hand on her shoulder guiding her out of the motel unit.

“Get offa me.” Faith jerked her shoulder free of his hand once outside, careful not to spill her cup of hot coffee. She shut the motel door behind her, so the Winchesters couldn’t hear the conversation. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Great attitude, kid. Does your watcher know you have that potty mouth?” The preacher didn’t sound a Southerner anymore.

“My who?” Faith’s heart started to pound. She tensed, ready to start fighting or running. Fighting came naturally but running was always good.

“Cut the bullshit. You’re a slayer. Where’s the Limey prick that should be breathing down your neck?” The preacher smiled condescendingly at her. “I’m also known as Grady Foster, vampire hunter. And I know all about slayers, because my older sister was one in Pittsburgh, in March ‘75.”

“Just March?” Faith didn’t want to hear that.

“Yep, big sis’s calling was short and sweet. So what’s the deal with you?” Foster demanded, sitting carelessly on the hood of the Impala parked outside the motel unit, and taking out a packet of cigarettes.

“Smoke?” he offered.

“No.” Faith shook her head and screwed up her nose in refusal. She’d never smoke, only losers did that.

Foster sat waiting for her to answer him.

“I’m on vacation.” Faith paused, she had tried to look up the Watchers Council’s telephone number in New York, in a Post Office International Directory room but was unable to find their number. She hoped they could send her money and help. “Do you talk to the Watchers Council?”

Foster shook his head. “Secret Organization, baby, so relax if you’ve gone AWOL, I can’t report you if I wanted to.”

“So what do you want?” Faith knew nothing came for free and there must be a reason why he covered for her to the sheriffs last night.

“Nothing yet, let’s just say you owe me one.”

***
2007
***

Their tongues danced in an intricate ballet, Dean moved slowly in and out of her, Faith ground herself desperately into him, crying out. Every sobbing cry of pleasure she made, caused Dean to stroke deeper inside her on his cock’s return.

Dean couldn’t hold on much longer, Faith twisted her mouth away from his, she spasmed, and blasphemed, bucking hard against him. He sped up and exploded in release. He lay on top of her a leaden weight, every muscle in his body turned to jelly.

“Am I squishing you?” he managed to gasp.

“What do you think?” Faith pushed him off her.

“Talk to me or I’m gonna fall asleep, dude, I had a late night last night.” Dean yawned, reaching out and holding her hand.

“Fuck you’re a charmer.” Faith kicked him lightly. “Awake now?”

“Hey, take it as an extreme compliment to you, I’d never consider feeding you bullcrap.” Dean pulled the blankets over them. “Cosy huh?”

“Freaking delightful.” Faith bit his shoulder affectionately.

Chapter four:Take me to the river

2007-04-30T08:44:35Z

***
2007
***

“I wasn’t originally planning on getting wasted tonight.” Faith put down her beer for a second and picked up her cigarette packet. “Never been big on drowning my sorrows.”

“Sweetheart, you getting hitched and then your groom failing to turn up at the airport to go on honeymoon the next day, sounds painful.” Dean sipped from his beer bottle, his eyes twinkling. “Painfully amusing.”

“Well the divorce was painfully fucking expensive.” Faith started getting up, she intended to have another cigarette. “But hey, everyone insisted I keep the wedding presents, so it worked out okay in the end. Everything always does huh? Rainbow after the storm and all that shit?”

"Sit down, Faith.” Dean leaned over and pulled out the cigar he’d bought at the liquor store, from his jacket pocket, unwrapping the cellophane from it. “Gotta light? I’ll out fume ya.”

Faith lit his cigar for him, her hands touching his for the briefest of seconds. Damn him, it still made her heart change beat to feel his skin against hers.

“I spent some time in a county jail in Arkansas. Sammy got freaked out when I won smokes playing poker, not realizing it was for currency purposes only.” Dean blew out a smoke ring.

Dean would know how to blow smoke rings Faith grinned to herself. Such a fucking show off. “So what the hell were you in the cage for? Having the biggest illegal ego on the planet?”

“You really were in the slammer too, weren’t you, baby?” Dean had been noticing the two and a half year gap in her story telling. “What for?”

Faith put another log on the fire. “Too late bud, I asked you first.”

***
1998
***

“When the night has been too lonely, and the day has been too long, and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong.” Faith and Sammy chorused off key in the Impala together, putting their hands mockingly over their hearts.

John turned up the volume on the car radio so Bette Middler singing ‘The Rose’ could drown the yodeling brats out. “Thank you for ruining a perfectly good song.” He smiled against his will.

The girl had been with them sixteen days and counting. And it wasn’t so Dean could get laid she was still with them. John allowed Faith to keep sponging off them for Sammy’s sake.

John hadn’t wanted to think about how bored and lonely Sammy became, being left alone in motel units for days and evenings on end during his school vacation time.

Dean and John came back to a motel one night, in a small town near Albuquerque, New Mexico, to a smoke smelling kitchen, ten days after Faith joined them. Sammy and Faith were unable to stop chortling hysterically, because they set on fire, pancakes they cooked on the unit stove. The gray fumes set off the smoke alarm, the whole motel needed to be evacuated and the local volunteer fire brigade were called out.

Apparently the motel resembled a Keystone cops’ movie, in John and Dean’s absence.

The following day John stopped in an Albuquerque gas station to fill up. Faith popped in to use the station’s rest room and John had needed to move Impala while she did so. Faith came out into the sunshine, not seeing at first where John parked the car. The expression of hurt devastation on her face for three seconds, before she swallowed, looked resolved and immediately started scoping around hard-faced, for the next opportunity to come her way, made John honk the car horn immediately to get her attention.

Faith’s face lit up at the sound and for a second she looked her real age with sheer relief, which John estimated to be between sixteen and eighteen.

Mary and his own mother would have wanted John to give the kid a break. Faith never wavered in her determination to go to California. Her way and his family’s would definitely part before the first of October.

Faith leaned over the back seat and thumped Sammy on the arm. “Retard, I told you not to yodel!” She yelled cheerfully over the music.

“You were yodeling too, bitch!” Sammy snapped back, quick to take offense, as adolescent hormones raged through his system.

John pulled over instantly on to the side of the highway, turning off the car radio.

“Don’t ever talk to a woman like that again.” John ordered his youngest son, disgusted at him.

“Sorry sir.” Sammy mumbled resentfully.

“I don’t care, Mr. Winchester.” Faith defended Sammy. She kinda did, but she knew Sammy didn’t mean it. She called John - Mr. Winchester, because there was no way an uptight drill sergeant clone, was the type of man who wanted to be called by their first name by a teenager and there was no way she was calling him ‘sir’.

“Well you should.” John glanced over his shoulder at her appalled, turning onto the highway again. Christ Faith possessed low self esteem in lots of ways. She was letting Dean bone her for a start.

John loved Dean, but he knew his son was callously using the girl as a real life blow up sex toy.

Dean always expected Faith to leave them after a week in his heart of hearts, and was having trouble adjusting to sharing a room every night with a chick who didn’t think the sun shone out of his ass. Which was how Dean thought a girlfriend should act towards him, well be more sweet and polite anyway – respectful and stuff. Not that Faith was his girlfriend, Dean kept reminding himself. And the mind blowing sex fortunately made up for her contradicting him about crap every second sentence.

“What spook are you and Dean gonna ghost-bust tonight again?” Faith changed the subject.

“Should be a run of the mill exorcism of a dead child.” John answered, well aware Faith knew every detail already.

Faith worked out what the Winchesters were hunting exactly, on day four with them. She offered immediately to help but was politely refused as it being too unsafe for her. Faith thought that freaking funny and she thought the right word might be ‘ironic’.

She knew she must keep it a secret about her being a slayer from the general public, her watcher always made that clear. And if she told the Winchesters about Kakistos they might want to help her and that would be way too dangerous for them.

The final thing that made her not confess to the Winchesters about her real identity, her calling, followed a conversation she held in bed on her eighth night with Dean.

“So ever run into vamps, you know, vampires?” Faith rested her head on his shoulder, both of them covered in post coital perspiration, acerbated by their room’s air conditioning unit not working.

“They’re extinct.” Dean informed her firmly, stating all the reasons why this clearly happened to be the case.

“Uh huh. And how do you explain all the people who die of blood loss in big cities, pal?” Faith persisted, enjoying the temporary feeling of closeness with another human, having sex with Dean constantly brought about.

“Shape-shifters, malevolent spirits, demons.” Dean stroked his hand affectionately through her sweaty tangled hair. She was the best, tightest, lay he’d ever encountered to date. Made him wonder what other hot experienced chicks lay out yonder in the universe waiting for him.

“Yeah, and vampires are demons, right?” Faith batted his hand away from her hair, it felt irritating in the heat.

“Faith, I think I know a little bit more about demons than you, honey. You musta read too many Anne Rice books in the library today with Sammy.” Dean couldn’t believe where Sammy and Faith spent their day because the local library was free and air conditioned. Apparently Faith spent her time reading ‘Interview with a Vampire’ while there.

“So you know everythin’, huh Dean?” Faith knew he didn’t. “Ever heard of ‘vampire slayers’? The Anne Rice Book mentioned them. Teenage girls, super strong, who can stake vampires quicker than a priest can feel up a choir boy?”

“Interesting pipe dream, you’ve got going there. Chicks don’t make good hunters. But you make great baby sitters.” Dean placed his hand over her breast, kneading. “Great…” Losing his train of thought, he shuffled down the narrow bed and parted Faith’s thighs wide, kissing, nibbling and licking the soft inner skin. His fingers gently opened her crotch to him, he lowered his mouth, the damp coarse curls on her mound tickling his nose briefly, as he positioned himself in a more conducive way for the task at hand. He enjoyed making her come for the hell of it, but he could do without a crick in his neck.

Faith thought fleeting, what a dick Dean was sometimes. Thinking stopped happening for her the minute he started to eat her out. Faith pressed her head back on the pillow, arching her back, pushing her groin in his face to encourage him to suck and lick her harder, moaning unable to stop herself, after he slid two curving fingers inside her and began to work them in and out.

***
2007
***

“Christ you’re a dick, Dean.” Faith rolled her eyes, flicking her ash into the fireplace. “That stunt was completely lame-brained, even for you and Sammy.” He would always be loyal and intent on helping people, she admired those qualities about him.

“So why were you wearing Big House orange? Even you couldn’t make that color hot.” Dean and Faith were lying side by side on the wooden floor by the fireplace. They’d pulled out the cushions from the couch to rest their upper bodies on and were most comfortable, if in danger of having their hair and clothes catch on fire from sparks coming off the burning wood in the fire place.

“Yeah I could. But I wore denim most of the time; I hate the color blue now. Remember the blue skirt I lived in that summer?” Faith remembered how his hand would lift her skirt, sliding up her leg unhurriedly.

Dean remembered how her thighs were firm, her skin soft and the small brown mole on the top of her right thigh. “What were you inside for?”

Faith took another gulp of beer. “Okay, going back to when I woke up from my coma.”

“The eight month time out for you? That happened because you got into a cat-fight with this other slayer – Buffy, over her boyfriend, and she accidentally knocked you off your apartment balcony?” Dean recalled, doubting Faith told the whole truth about that story.

“Correct. You always were a great listener.” Another thing Faith always liked about him. “I was kinda fucked up in the head from being, well, me. Went to L.A. to make a new start. But I took out my anger management issues on a potential pimp, and a few other assholes, and this chick in a nightclub who did nothing to me except have a whiny voice that bugged the crap outta me, and I got busted for it. So I went down on aggravated assault charges. It was a relief to be locked up, Dean; I was scaring the shit outta myself.”

He doubted she was telling the whole truth about this story too. Apart from being glad to be locked away where she couldn’t hurt people. He knew she always wanted to do the right thing deep down and events would always conspire against her to achieve this goal. She brought a lot of crap on herself, but she was fundamentally unlucky. Faith could always see the bright side of any shit deal that landed in her lap, he always was impressed by her basic Pollyanna-like attitude to things. If Pollyanna wore black leather and gave head like an angel that is.

Dean’s leg touched hers and he could feel the heat of her body seep through the material of her jeans onto his.

“How long were you inside for?”

“Two and a half years, could’ve been longer but I got let out early.” Faith wished it could all have happened like that. She wished Dean wasn’t stroking her hair back from her neck, asking where she got the scar from. He’d been staring at her face, her mouth, unashamedly for the past five minutes.

“Vampire, kicked his ass, he’s dust.” And Faith wished Angel wasn’t dust, she wished Dean would stop asking questions she didn’t want to answer.

She wished Dean would fuck her instead.

Dean recognized the way her eyes hooded for a nanosecond, confirming his suspicion she would be eager to share a bed with him tonight. Thank god, because he sure as hell wanted to make love to her one more time. Dean pressed his lips against hers, wrapping his hands round her head, pulling her close against him.

Their mouths parted to begin hedonistic re-exploration of each other.

Faith clutched her arm around him, pressing her body against him as hard as she could manage without hurting him. She never bothered to dream she’d be given a second shot like this by life, to say good-bye to Dean properly this time around.

***
Cactus Bluff
Kitchener County
South Texas
1998
***

The Rio Grande snaked its way lazily before Dean’s eyes as he skipped a stone across the slow drifting water in the hot midday sun. He could hear Faith moving on the bank behind him.

“Hey Dean, do you get hornets in Texas?” Faith called to him curiously. “Should I poke this hive thing with a stick?”

“God almighty!” Dean spun around in horror. “Get away from it!”

Faith smirked, standing untouched on the riverbank, without a nest in sight.

“Hilarious, you thought a black line snake was a rattlesnake the other week, don’t forget.” Dean walked over to her and spun her around. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“No I’m not.” Faith never got giddy no matter how long he spun her. It drove him nuts trying to figure out why not.

Slayer balance naturally.

Faith pushed him down and sat astride on top of him. “Easy to take you off guard, wuss.”

“City slicker.” He crept his hands up her skirt.

“Do you wanna go again?” Faith pulled her tank top off instantly. She sure did.

Did bears crap in the woods? Of course he wanted to be inside her again, he was nineteen. He’d been hard the second he picked her up to twirl her. “Those hickey marks around your belly button have gone.” Dean squinted his eyes against the glare of the sun, disbelievingly.

“You didn’t suck as hard as you think you did, yesterday. You don’t suck, period pal.” Faith whispered, bending down to kiss him, unhooking her black bra at the same time.

“Neither do you.” Dean agreed whole heartedly, unbuckling his belt. Making love to a pretty girl by the shores of a river, it was kinda romantic, except Faith was a runaway who couldn’t wait to get to California and was screwing him in payment for the free ride. Or he was paying her for her free ride.

The only reason he held her fiercely in his arms, (after she collapsed sunburned and sweating on top of him) kissing her face repeatedly and telling Faith she was the cutest, hottest girl in the whole inbred town they were staying in tonight, was because she was.

Parasite and host cleaned themselves up and headed back to Dean’s motorcycle, hand in hand. John Winchester was due back this evening with Sammy, Faith and Dean spent the day in their absence hooning around the county for six hours.

The people in this town were freaking backwards, Faith reflected, as she held on tightly to Dean on the back of his motorcycle.

People stared at them wherever they went in the rural town because Faith and Dean were strangers. An old passerby didn’t understand a word Faith said, when she asked what a huge marquee by the river was being set up for.

The man stared at Faith like she arrived fresh from another planet, which Faith began to feel she might have.

“My girlfriend just wants to know what the deal with the tent is.” Dean smiled charmingly at the local yokel and put his arm calmingly around Faith’s shoulders. What a communication problem for everyone down here who drawled their ‘R’s and Faith who sometimes sounded like she used none. Dean happily volunteered to interpret before Faith blew a gasket.

She always seemed poised to fly off the handle, Sammy mentioned to Dean yesterday while Faith was in the shower.

Sammy should know, he witnessed her punch a fat, sweaty, guy in the face, for pawing her ass, breaking his nose as a result. Faith and Sammy were standing in a crowd watching some small town parade last week, before the incident. The fat, sweaty, guy had gone down like a light.

Faith pushed her way out of the shocked crowd, with Sammy in tow, quickly. “You see Sam, it takes forty eight muscles to frown, but only four to smack the crap outta an asshole who deserves it.”

One time in the library, Sammy glanced up excitedly from a book, looked at Faith’s arm, checked the page of the book he was reading and announced. “Your tattoo isn’t Celtic, it’s Greek.”

“Gonna be the mutoid, giant freak of the Hardy Boys? Looking up crap about my body art? Practicing your research, so you can join your old man and big bro, nailing spooks?” Faith narrowed her eyes and Sammy felt scared of her for the first time. “Mind your own damn business.”

Sammy did from that point on.

Tonight, after he’d come back from the weird father and son bonding day, John Winchester dragged him out on, which always seemed to coincide with John having a severe hangover, Sammy and Faith were going to a revival meeting in a tent erected by the river.

“They’ve snakes, laying on of hands, and people are gonna roll around the floor hollering and talkin’ in tongues, I’ve never seen crap like that before, have you?” Faith wore a clean black t-shirt and her blue skirt, hand washed once more and dry within minutes in the sweltering furnace that was Cactus Bluff that evening.

Sammy walked out of the motel unit with her into the heat of the night. A Holy Roller night sounded possibly entertaining.

Sammy stopped Faith short-cutting across a field of dry grass. “Snakes.” The Winchesters were becoming more and more amazed Faith made it alive as far as Florida with her ignorance of nature.

Faith previously stuck to big cities. That’s where the vampires existed that it was her duty to destroy. God she was bad, not fulfilling her calling the past two weeks, her mystic destiny. Acting like a freaking loser, a coward, trying to save her own miserable skin. Slayers were meant to die young. Faith prolonged the inevitable, she wasn’t so amazing she deserved to live she knew. But she didn’t want to die! Not yet anyway. And her natural survival instincts always made her run away whenever life got too overwhelming for her to handle.

Faith took the long way to the revival meeting, using the road with Sammy, her head was down, thinking about other depressing shit. There was no other polite way for Dean to describe her apart from his ‘girlfriend’ to an old man, Faith guessed. She didn’t want to think too hard about how she’d describe the set up between her and Dean to an outsider.

***

“Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us live honorably as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarrelling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” The evangelical minister banged on the pulpit. “If that was good enough for Saint Paul to say, it’s surely good enough for me. Lust! Liquor! You all commit these sins. Why some of the young people in this town have smoked marijuana!”

“Hear that Faith?” Sam whispered in Faith’s ear as she sat beside him in the audience, fanning herself with a pamphlet about true love waiting. “This town isn’t as bad as we first thought.”

Faith nodded in agreement. Sammy grinned and stretched out his long legs. The tent was packed, the seats were hard, and the minister was just getting starting.

“Whores’, jezebels’, painted scarlet women, leading good men into the pits of Hellfire and Brimstone.” The minister flung out his hand and pointed it straight at Faith it seemed. “I’ve seen them pollute your community and so have you! Writhing to that lecherous jungle music on MTV.”

Faith relaxed, the slavering nutcase wasn’t talking about her personally. She decided on the whole, the Roman Catholic Church services her grandparents used to take her to when she was little, although full of hypocritical B.S., were a vast improvement on this anti-chick crap.

The snakes were brought out and handled in a manner that would give an animal rights activist a nervous breakdown. The faith healing happened. Sammy sniggered and looked at Faith significantly. Faith rolled her eyes. Christ she hated her name sometimes. People writhed on the floor burbling nonsense, because as the minister pointed out repeatedly, if glossolalia was good enough for St Paul, it was good enough for him.

People were saved! Baptisms in the river were held. Someone in the crowd had a heart attack with over excitement and had to be given C.P.R. by a retired nurse before the doctor arrived.

The revival meeting ended and the good minister sought out stray lambs and fallen women and anyone female with nice legs basically, to lead back on the path of righteousness.

“So are you saved tonight, my young sister?” The minister was in his early forties, very good looking and held Faith’s hand with extra sincerity.

“I can just see you holdin’ me down in the water while my t-shirt gets wet, padre.” Faith withdrew her hand and wiped it on her skirt. “Save Sam here, he watches MTV a lot.”

***

“I thought it would be like that.” Sammy told Faith as they trudged back to the motel unit. Cars and trucks from the revival meeting passed them by quickly into the star filled night. “But there are real faith healers out there. The snakes were good value, huh?”

“Yeah, but…” Faith stopped as a dusty SUV slowed down beside them.

“Need a ride?” A bunch of youths were hanging out the windows, beer bottles in hand.

“No thanks.” Sammy refused politely. Crap, they were dead meat. “We’re fine.”

“What about ya sister? Don’t she need a ride?” One of the guys turned to his friends, inspired. “She can ride on me.”

The group entered into animated discussion on which of them Faith would like to fuck first and who would be the best for her if she would care to get in their vehicle with them.

“Why not ride your mom, lover? Isn’t that what ‘you’all’ do in this god forsaken dump?” Faith kept walking. Screw them.

“Shut up, Faith.” Sammy thought she owned more street smarts than this. There were six guys and only two of them.

The guys were baying and cat-calling non stop now.

“They can shut up and so can you.” Faith spat at Sammy pissed off. Why couldn’t men leave her the hell alone? She offered another helpful suggestion to the occupants of the SUV. “Fuck each other, once you’ve found your own pricks with a magnifying glass!”

“Are you crazy?” Sammy panicked. His Dad taught him how to defend himself, but there were six of the sons of bitches!

“That’s a question up for grabs.” Faith muttered under her breath. The good ole boy assholes were stopping their vehicle and climbing out.

“Ya not his sister and ya not from around these parts.” The driver announced with confidence. He was the brains of the group.

“I’m just lucky I guess.” Faith retorted, she and Sammy kept walking.

One of the men grabbed her arm and swung her around. “Hey! We’re talkin’ to you darlin’.”

Sammy long ago worked out guys shouldn’t do that to Faith.

***

‘I wanna know that you’ll tell me, I love to stay, take me to the river, drop me in the water’ Talking Heads played on the car radio. Dean stared moodily out into the darkness of the countryside.

His father running over a jackrabbit broke into his thoughts for a second.

“I hate doing that.” John sighed ruefully to himself, he always worried the animal bones would puncture the tires. It sometimes happened.

Dean went back to his internal torment. If he got emotionally attached to Faith, Dean was a freaking moron. Faith had this one dimple when she smiled, her scent was musky when they made love, she climbed up a tree without hesitation in Roswell, to rescue a stuck cat for a little kid, rolling her eyes when the terrified cat clawed her arm, saying her pain threshold was high and she was five by five.

She healed real fast from those scratches. She healed unnaturally fast from everything – bruises for example. Dean left those on her ankles and hips sometimes with his thumbs and fingers when they screwed. Faith couldn’t be a demon; she consumed enough salty junk food with Sammy in one sitting, watching a horror movie marathon on TV, to knock out an army of demons.

Faith would be leaving his life in September. Dean wished she didn’t have to. No. He was mighty glad she was moving on, because she took too long in the shower, could be cold and moody, and a real bitch sometimes. Faith was good bed practice until the real thing came along. The right girl for him. A girl resembling the way he remembered his mother. Not someone like Faith.

A Sheriffs car was parked outside the motel unit when John and Dean returned.

“Only took eighteen days.” John hoped to god, statuary rape charges weren’t going to be laid, or Sammy hadn’t gotten involved, in whatever the hell Faith must have done at the revival meeting, the two said they were going to tonight. Trouble.

Sammy’s left eye was black and he had a swollen lip. Faith had a bruise on her cheek and her clothes were ripped.

The sheriff urged Faith and Sammy to press charges against the six guys that attacked them. They were well known to be the town assholes.

The evangelical preacher sat in the living room. He told the sheriffs and John and Dean he intervened as he drove past Faith and Sammy being set upon, to attend a soul in distress, (an attractive widow who felt the pull of the flesh most strongly).

Sammy and Faith declined to press charges. John wished they could lead a normal life so the two could press charges against the bastards who roughed up his young son and tried to rape a girl. He almost burst with pride at being told how Sammy knocked two of the guys out stone cold, breaking another one’s arm.

Sammy sat subdued and quiet on the couch, not saying much. Faith breezed through everything, flirting with the cute deputy sheriff. Nah, she wasn’t traumatized, Sammy saved the day, the guy was her hero.

The Sheriffs left, the preacher left, and John urged Sammy to go to sleep.

Sammy shot a dirty look at Faith before he went to bed, she so owed him. It was the second time he’d felt scared of her, tonight. For one heart stopping minute he thought she was going to start laying into him too, she just stopped herself in time, coming down from her bloodlust frenzy and then the preacher pulled up in his car. Sammy wondered just what the preacher saw and why he lied too.

Dean entered his bedroom, conscious of his father’s curt whispered instructions while she showered, to leave Faith the hell alone tonight. His Dad didn’t need to tell Dean that, Dean got angry with his father over the stupidity of that unnecessary advice. He and his father were angry already that they couldn’t shoot with a rifle, the six attackers of Sammy and Faith. Stupid laws against homicide.

Dean was prepared to be very understanding with Faith, maybe she would prefer him to sleep in another room tonight? Or if she wanted to cuddle, a good cry to get the attack out of her system? Dean wanted to be a manly shoulder for her to lean on, in her hour of post traumatic shock.

He sat upright on one of the beds waiting for her to finish in the bathroom. If there was one time she surely was entitled to use up all the hot water it was tonight.

Faith walked over to him, dropped her towel on the floor and placed his hands on her breasts. “Get me off.”

Faith could have cheerfully gone on breaking every bone in those six pricks bodies, if Sammy hadn’t yelled at her repeatedly to stop already.

The only thing that worried Faith at present, apart from Dean treating her like spun glass, when she needed him to be pounding away inside of her, was why had the preacher lied for her?

***

AN:Reviews postive or negative are always appreciated.

Chapter three: Smells like teen spirit

2007-04-28T10:38:11Z

***
2007
****

Faith and Dean surveyed the shelves of the liquor store. The cold storage room they stood in, felt like winter. Faith appreciated the loan of Dean’s sweater. He’d always looked after her when it came to her physical needs.

“Gone all microbrewery on me?” Dean teased her, as she read the contents label of a traditional lager brewed in Pennsylvania. Faith made up her mind and pulled two packs out.

Dean took one pack off her, so he wouldn’t be seen in public as the bastard who let his girlfriend carry the heavy stuff. And here he was, twenty-eight, right back pretending she was his girlfriend again. No wonder he met Faith in Florida, so much fucked up crap happened in Florida.

“Four years in California could never turn me into a hophead, Dean baby.” Faith didn’t get to drink any beer during her coma or time in prison, maybe that was why. “Do you wanna get firewater instead?” Had he turned into a heavy drinker like his Dad?

“Nah, lets stick to beer, already been in your pants.” Dean took out his wallet at the same time Faith pulled out hers.

“Right back at you, bud. I’ll pay, my credit card belongs to me.” Faith proffered it to the baffled young female shop clerk.

“Nice to see you all law-abiding these days. Guess you couldn’t disguise a six pack under my sweater, like you could everything else you frigging stole.” Dean smiled flirtatiously at the shop clerk as they left, out of ingrained habit.

***
1998
New Orleans
Louisiana
***

Faith spilled out of the Impala virtually, in her urgency to use the motel unit bathroom. Dean had gone ahead and paid for the rooms as per usual.

The motel unit door was open and Dean’s motorcycle was parked outside it.

Faith walked rapidly through the motel living room.

She smiled at Dean sprawled on the couch watching TV, in quick greeting, before opening frantically the bathroom door to reach the destination she had been fantasizing about for the past thirty minutes.

Faith completed her biological waste disposal imperatives. Her period had definitely finished. So hopefully Dean had purchased the protection she asked him to get and she could start screwing her way to California like she promised him.

John put everyone through their daily drill routine that afternoon, even Faith. He had bought her a cheap pair of trainers yesterday so she could participate in the daily family run. Faith didn’t physically care, she’d been put through more strenuous exercise by her watcher, she just hated the control freak aspect of John Winchester’s personality. The guy was crazy.

She guessed John was some kind of survivalist and he hoped she’d hate the exercises so much she’d leave them. Fat chance. Faith grew up being foisted on unwilling relatives by her mother when she was little, and had developed an outwardly thick skin for people not wanting her to be around them. Faith’s only focus was getting to California and staying off the supernatural world’s radar while she did so.

Dean was torn between doing what he wanted to do, go out somewhere with Faith, or regain his father’s approval and accompany him to a hunters bar in New Orleans.

Sammy knew Dean would end up going to the bar with his father. John needed someone to drive him home.

“You and me again, Sam.” Faith sat down on the motel unit’s floor dispiritedly. She had gained no new money; she’d been parasitically dependent on the Winchesters for food and lodging the past three days. She’d offered John her last twenty bucks to contribute to food and he’d told her curtly to keep it.

There was nothing as cold as charity.

She was still alive. She was in one of the most famous cities of the world.

Faith raised a beckoning eyebrow at Sammy. “Let’s go and explore The Big Easy, huh?”

“Dad said to stay with you at all times in case you try and rip us off. So I guess if you’re going out I should come too. This over-rides the primary instruction for me to rot alone in motel units Friday nights, while he gets hammered. ” Sammy was far less impressed by John’s charismatic force than Dean.

Sammy and Faith caught a bus into the city. Faith splurging five dollars on her return fare. Faith had already worked out no matter what public transport system she rode on at night-time, a crazy person would try and talk to her. Some drunken sleaze would try and pick her up, and his pocket could be easily picked.

An inebriated mark started hitting on Faith, in the bus, as they neared the French quarter, swaying closely near her, breathing beer fumes all over her. Sammy almost ruined her chances at improving her finances by telling the creep to fuck off, before she’d had a chance to frisk him properly after the drunk ‘accidentally’ fell on her, at a red light.

Sam jumped off the bus with her at the next stop. Faith telling him not to bother being a knight in shining armor in future, she could fight her own freaking battles. Sammy looked hurt and Faith felt like crap about it for two seconds.

Faith flicked through her wad of recently acquired cash while Sammy was preoccupied looking at CD’s in a music store they stopped in, along the main boulevard. Twelve dollars: it seemed as if the drunk had forgotten about his side trouser pocket that contained the squashed notes. There was a stick of wrapped chewing gum amongst the money. Faith popped it in her mouth. Aniseed flavor no less, her Friday night was looking up.

Faith and Sammy wandered leisurely around the iron lattice housed city streets, innocently sightseeing. They stuck to the well lit tourist parts and experienced no trouble.

“I need to go back now, to be on the safe side.” Sammy told her at ten thirty.

Faith waited with him at the right bus stop. A jazz quartet played on the corner, filling the night with music above the traffic sounds. Boring people were occasionally right, you didn’t always need drugs or booze to have a good time. She and Sammy were the living proof of that right now.

The two tourist conspirators arrived back to their motel in one piece and watched television together. They both felt inordinately pleased with themselves for different secret reasons. Sammy had successfully put one over his father, proving he was far smarter than Dean at the same age, and Faith was up seven dollars without physically hurting anyone.

***
2007
***

Faith and Dean relit the fire in the cabin the minute they returned.

Dean held a sheet of newspaper against the fireplace, creating an oxygen funnel for the wood to burn.

Faith placed his beer down for him on the hearth and sat beside him on the floor, leaning her head back against the bottom of the two seater battered couch.

They sat quietly together, watching the flames making ever changing patterns against the bricks.

“Is this a companionable peace or an awkward silence?” Dean asked after twenty minutes of not speaking.

“Seriously? I thought you musta been struck by laryngitis.” Faith raised her beer to her lips. “Proving there must be a god.”

“I’m sorry about joking about you stealing.” Dean’s voice resonated with contriteness. “I’m sorry about a lotta crap.”

***
1998
***

Dean kissed her again, invading her parting lips with his tongue. Faith met his assault on her mouth with matching force. They stood kissing by the motel doorway where Dean had walked in alone, unexpectedly early.

Sammy slept soundly in bed. Faith after switching off the television intended to make her way to bed also, she paused as the front door unlocked and Dean came in to the unit.

“Dad met up with some old hunting buddies.” Dean closed the door quietly behind him so as not to wake Sammy.

Dean’s father had friends? Faith was amazed. She was also sort of pleased to see Dean back.

“Bored out of your tiny brain watching the idiot box all night with the freak?” Dean checked sympathetically.

Faith shook her head and kept still as he stepped towards her. Dean smelled of smoke and beer from the bar. There was a tiny nick on his cheek from where he had cut himself shaving earlier.

She raised herself on the balls of her bare feet a fraction, and kissed him, snaking her arms around his neck. She needed to keep making the first move to have some amount of control in her life.

Dean put his hand to her face stroking her soft cheek with finger and thumb. Strange - Faith tasted of aniseed of all things.

The breathless warm feeling swept through her body, as her breasts flattened against his chest, and they kept kissing and kissing.

She took him by the hand and tugged him into their bedroom.

“You must eat a hell of a lot of spinach, Faith. I’ve never met a chick as strong as you.” Dean shut the bedroom door behind them and slipped off his t-shirt. He was horny, he’d been thinking about finally getting to screw her all night at the bar, and he wanted to be inside her five minutes ago.

Faith shed her own clothes, she only wore four garments it didn’t take long. She picked up her short blue cotton skirt off the floor and hung it on a chair, it was the most comfortable thing she owned for the summer heat of the Southern States and she wore it everyday.

He saw her naked and confident in the light of the electric light-bulb of the pink and gray motel bedroom, the sight made him grin at her happily, as he jumped-shuffled out of his jeans, socks and shoes.

Dean found his arms full of an enthusiastic Faith once more. A naked, enthusiastic Faith, kissing him messily and wetly, hauling him down onto the single bed with her.

He scraped his teeth and slid his tongue over every inch of the burning flesh of her upper torso within his reach, she was writhing beneath him, grinding her groin against his leg, sucking at his chest, on the verge of bruising him with her teeth and hands.

Dean pushed her away with his leg to enable him to slip his hand between her legs, working the tips of his fingers in and out of her ever increasing slick wetness, moving them deeper and deeper inside her. His other hand he used to knot in her long hair, holding her head still so he could resume kissing her.

Faith let her eyes remain half open, his head became curiously out of focus when she did this, but nothing took her by surprise that way. Her left hand ran freely up and down the hardness of his cock. With her right hand she fumbled for the condom she’d left out on the bedside table in readiness for his return this evening.

She used both her hands to quickly open the wrapper, to retrieve the rubber without ripping it on a fingernail and passed it over to him to roll down his cock.

It only took seconds before he was pushing his cock inside of her. Dean and Faith rose off the bed together trying to angle his position of entry better. It took a few false starts before Dean established a steady rhythm of plowing in and out of her. Faith ending up sitting on the window ledge of the motel bedroom, directly above the bed that lay parallel to the bedroom wall.

She hooked her smooth calves around his neck. Dean knelt on the bed in front of her. An enjoyable position, allowing his hands playing with Faith’s clit and hardened nipples in turn, but one fraught with potential physical danger as the bed moved slightly away from the wall with every stroke Dean made.

Faith’s upper body broke out in a pink rash of pre-orgasmic flush. Dean noted the flush with interest and the widening gap between the bed and the wall with alarm.

Faith came, Dean came and Faith fell forwards, pushing him back on the bed, nearly breaking his neck in the process, preventing him sliding down the gap between the bed and the wall.

She scrambled off him and sat at the head of the bed, panting.

“Hell, that was good.” Dean lay backwards on the bed, cock shriveling, gingerly feeling his neck.

“Not bad.” Faith agreed, her hands and arms wrapped around her upraised knees.

***
2007
***

“There’s nothin’ to be sorry about. Wicked good times were had by all.” Faith mused, accepting a fresh beer from him. “Anyway, you haven’t told me what you’ve been doing all this time.”

“Same old, same old.” Dean crouched beside her and clinked her beer bottle with his in reprimand. “And I’ve told you more crap about me, than you have about you.”

‘After I left you, I dusted the vampire that I was positive would kill me. I killed someone accidentally, lost the plot, killed someone on purpose, helped a demon try and take over California, got stabbed in the belly by another slayer, was in a coma for eight months, switched bodies with the slayer that stabbed me, screwed her boyfriend, switched back, tortured my watcher, then turned myself into the police, after that bail out on the world, I spent two and a half years in different women’s prisons, was helped escape by my ex-watcher, almost overdosed on mystical junk and helped save the world from an apocalypse. Oh, and I got married and divorced last year. What about you? Anyone kinda special in your life?’ Faith ran that scenario through her head and rejected it.

“I’ve been living in Ireland the last two years.” Faith volunteered instead. “And I’ve been thinking about getting a puppy, do you know much about dogs?”

“Only that I try and avoid waking up beside them.” Dean thought about it. “I dunno Faith, do you live in an apartment or do you have a backyard?”

Chapter two: Slip Slide Melting

2007-04-27T04:45:04Z

***
2007
***

“Hey, you got a sweater I could borrow?” Faith folded her arms, stroking her goose flesh. Standing close to the fire burning in the grate. “Mine are all wet, just don’t ask.”

“‘Don’t ask.’ Some things never change, huh?” Dean went to his room and returned with a sweater for her.

“Thanks.” She raised her arms. Her top slid up.

Dean spotted the scar on her abdomen immediately.

“Knife?” Who would do that to her? Some prick vampire he guessed.

“’Fraid so.” Faith pulled down his sweater and rolled up the sleeves. It was enormous on her. “Your family always were giants. So how are they?”

“Sammy’s with me – hunting. Dad died a year ago, car accident.” Dean didn’t want to go into Sammy being the great white hope for demons.

“I’m sorry.” Faith could only imagine how tough it must have been on the brothers.

“No you’re not, you hated him.” Dean smirked at her disbelievingly.

“Well yeah, kinda.” Faith shook her head, smiling at her own hypocrisy. “Come on man, he hated me.”

***
1998
***

Faith sat bolt upright on the couch, the second she heard the key in the lock of the motel unit. She pulled down her skirt which had ridden up her ass. Wiping the sleep out of her eyes quickly, trying to smooth her mussed hair.

John Winchester came into the motel unit. He looked slightly seedy and unshaven. The morning sun streamed in after him, waking Sammy still sleeping in his single bed he turned away from the sunlight hitting his eyes. Sammy put his pillow over his head and rolled over.

“Good morning.” John Winchester was clearly puzzled to see her.

“Hi.” Faith smiled brightly, trying to look like a normal college student and not the high school drop out and teen runaway she actually was. “Looks like another great day outside. I’m Faith by the way.”

“I’m John Winchester.” John smacked his hand against the electric jug switch on the kitchen bench of the hotel unit, to make coffee. “Are you a local? You don’t sound like it.”

“She’s on vacation.” Sammy mumbled from under his pillow. “She’s Dean’s friend.”

“’She’s’ the cat’s mother, Sammy. Did Dean get too tanked to drive you home last night, young lady?” John ripped open an instant coffee sachet and sprinkled the contents into a mug. He frowned and sprinkled in another sachet.

“Uh no.” Faith didn’t know what to say next really. The ball was in Dean’s court and she wished he’d get the hell out of bed.

Hallelujah here he was, and reassuringly looking freaking hot in broad daylight.

“Morning Sir.” Dean was fully dressed.

He called his father, sir? Kansas people were as strange as they came. Faith didn’t realize she’d been warped dived into a recolored episode of ‘Father knows best’.

“Morning son, you need to drop your friend back to wherever she’s staying.” John Winchester poured three sugar sachets into his coffee.

“Can I speak to you in private for a minute?” Dean asked his father straightforwardly.

Faith took this opportunity to dash into the motel unit bathroom and grab her dried underwear off the towel rail.

She stuffed the garments into her duffel and sprinted back out.

Sammy was in his boxer shorts, he leaped back into bed when he saw her.

He groped for his jeans and put them on under his sheet.

He had to be kidding, like Faith gave a crap.

“My wallet’s missing.”

“Your brother took it.” She waved her hand to shush him. Faith was trying to listen into the conversation taking place between Dean and his father in the bedroom.

***
2007
***

“He didn’t hate you. Much.” Dean opened the fridge door. “Late lunch?”

“What’ve you got?” Faith leaned beside him, peering at the plastic box containing his food. “Hot dogs, gee. I’m overwhelmed at how your culinary skills have improved in a decade.”

Dean could smell the shampoo in her hair. Its fragrance smelled organically expensive. Not the scent of the cheap smelling hotel shampoo she used to use. He used to like smelling her hair after she washed it. “What did you bring?”

“Cans.” Faith opened a cupboard door and showed him. “Baked beans.”

“Did you take night classes in can opening?” Dean searched for a can opener. If they pooled the contents of their food, it wouldn’t be a bad lunch.

“There’s fuck all I need remedial classes for. I’m a U.Mass graduate, don’t forget.”

Faith produced a can opener, she slapped it into his open hand. He’d got far more broad shouldered, turned into a man.

He smirked the same. He was getting fine-line smirk wrinkles.

He was thinking the same about her, that she smirked the same way. He couldn't see anyway she'd aged except her breasts were slightly fuller.

***
1998
***

“Out of the question. If she’s a college graduate, I’m a chipmunk. She’s probably a runaway, Dean.” John packed his bag with military precision.

“Look, its doing her a humanitarian favor. She wants to see this half sister she’s never met in California. If she turns out to be trouble we can leave her in whatever town we’re in.” Dean pointed out reasonably.

“And where is she going to sleep again?” John zipped his case closed.

“We got another credit card. We can get two rooms.” Dean didn’t want to spell it out anymore than that.

“What kind of example is that to set for Sammy, for crying out loud?” John hoped to God he didn’t have any hickeys on his throat from the night before. Melody had turned out to have a cannibalistic streak.

“Dad, I just wanna be... normal for once.” Dean meant it. A whole month, maybe two, of having sex every night like other guys did with a girlfriend. Not that Faith would be his girlfriend exactly…

His father read his mind as only a parent can, and thought he was nuts. “Dean, wake up! She’s whoring herself to you, there’s nothing normal about this.”

“There’s nothing normal about anything we do, Sir. Nothing normal in the first place.” Dean hated the look of guilt on his fathers face. “And who wants to be normal? Sure as hell, not me. She’ll move on, Dad. She probably won’t stay with us longer than a week anyway.”

“The first sign of B.S. from her and she goes.” John couldn’t get worked up about it at the end of the day. Dean wasn’t going to rape the girl. What chance did either of his sons have of leading a normal life after what he’d gotten involved in? “And if she affects your hunting, she goes.”

In the main room, Sam and Faith were having breakfast. There was no use trying to hear anything happening in the bedroom. Sammy raised the volume of the TV set up loud so he could watch morning cartoons. Was he fifteen or six? Dean and John were speaking in low voices.

Faith spooned down her cereal with hungry gusto. Her clothes had got loose on her since she’d left Boston and she might not get another breakfast anytime soon.

“Sam, could you turn the ‘Teletubbies’ down, pal?” Faith decided Dean’s little brother must be retarded in an idiot savant way.

“I’m studying it.” Sam made a note in a journal beside him on the kitchen counter.

Faith could see he was keeping some kind of graph. “Right.” Jesus Christ.

Dean and his father emerged from the bedroom.

“You’re welcome to come to California with us on one proviso, Faith, you fit in with our routines.” John walked past her coldly, carrying his bag out to his car.

“Thanks.” Faith called after him. “I think.” She muttered under her breath.

“Routines?” Faith asked Dean appalled, as he sat beside her at the kitchen bar counter. “What routines?”

“Canadian Air Force exercises, morning runs, swimming twenty laps whenever we have a motel with a pool.” Sammy illuminated her. “Po emerges stage right.” He made another entry in his journal. “Guess Dad won’t make you do shooting practice.”

“What do you shoot?” Faith passed Dean the milk.

“Animals. It’s our vacation.” Dean poured milk liberally on his cereal. She would think they were crazy, but what did he care, she was obviously crazy too.

“I guess Disney World leaves your family cold.” Faith got up to go to the bathroom to get ready to leave and avoid Dean. This was all so weird she didn’t know if she could go through with it.

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth, wondering who the hell she really was. She had to go through with screwing Dean. As long as it didn’t turn into ‘Hop on Pop’ too, she could do this shit and survive.

Dean was waiting at the bathroom door for her.

“Do you want me to jerk you off now?” she hissed in a low voice because of Sammy, wondering how long it would take.

“Uh, yeah, no.” Dean leaned his arm against the door frame, trying to appear relaxed. A hand job after breakfast - alright. “Dad says, seeing you don’t have a crash helmet you’re riding with him and Sammy in the Impala. He’s big on punctuality. Did I tell you he’s an ex-marine?”

***
2007
***

“Your Dad had his good points.” Faith put her baked beans on her fork. “Telling me I’d get porky if I didn’t do the 5BX with you all, like a Moonie group hug, just wasn’t one of them.”

“But you were so flexible, Faith.” Dean cut up his hot dog. “We were all stunned.”

“You were, pal.” Faith chuckled, she pushed her plate away. “Sam dropped out of law school? Waste of a brilliant mind.”

“You thought he was subnormal.” Dean looked across the table at her in disbelief.

“Yeah at first. Who wouldn’t?” Faith took out her packet of cigarettes.

“Outside, sweetheart.” Dean indicated with his fork. “When did you start that life shortening habit, huh?”

“In prison, seven years ago.” Faith strolled towards the door with studied nonchalance.

Dean was pleased she was still as big with the wisecracks as ever. “Okay, don’t tell me then.”

Faith tried to tell Dean the truth on occasion, but like with the little boy who cried 'wolf, wolf', he never believed her when she did.

***
1998
***

“Mythology and legends, the analysis of fairy-tales.” Faith elaborated on her imaginary major. Her watcher had taught the subject at Harvard and Faith could reel off a spiel of crap to suit most situations.

“Liberal Arts.” John Winchester said the words in the same tone as someone else would say. ‘Pedophilia.’ He didn’t believe a word of it.

“Yeah.” Faith lounged across the back seat, her hair blowing out the car window. Dean had long since passed them on the highway.

Sammy had called shotgun as if Faith would even consider wanting to sit beside John.

‘Paint it black’ played on the car stereo and Faith’s bare toes tapped on the car door opposite her. There were worse ways to spend a Tuesday morning.

They met up with Dean on the outskirts of Tallahassee. A cheap motel with two bedrooms were rented and Dean and John disappeared for the rest of the day and night on hunting business.

“What do they hunt?” Faith asked Sam, as they swam in the motel pool together.

“Opossums.” Sam was confident in Faith’s wildlife ignorance.

“Yeah?” Faith backstroked in the pool in her one pair of shorts, purchased from a charity shop in Richmond, Virginia for fifty cents, and a black tank top.

“Why don’t you go?” Faith threw a float ball at his head for amusement purposes.

“I’m too young.” Sam told her, rubbing his head, throwing the ball back at her hard. Faith deflected it instantly.

“To hunt opossums?” Faith didn’t think so. But..., she submerged herself under the water, keeping her eyes open, wary of Sammy seeking revenge, she didn’t care. Everyone lied to her, that’s why she had started to lie to everyone else since she left Boston.

Dean and John came back to the motel at ten o’clock that evening. They had scratches on their arms, from the opossums they had been hunting. Which they sold to a buyer on the way back and that’s why they didn’t have the furry corpses on them.

Whatever. Maybe they were poachers or something. She’d find out sooner or later.

Faith had been playing cards with Sammy and now she couldn’t decide what to do and still appear in charge of her life. John had the first shower, Dean and Sammy joshed around for a while.

John came out fully dressed, probably for Faith’s benefit, he gave one last disapproving shake of his head at her before he strolled off to bed.

Dean disappeared off to shower. Faith decided to get it all over with and headed off to ‘their’ bedroom. Which had two single beds in it. John wanted to keep up some strange standard in front of Sammy. It never occurred to Faith he did it for her, in case she wanted to back out, until years later.

She didn’t have anything to aid her in the hand job, no facial or hand moisturizer; at seventeen and a half, she didn’t need any. No lubricant, she’d never needed any of that stuff either.

Faith guessed if Dean didn’t have anything she’d spit on her hands. She took a gulp of water from her bedside glass in preparation.

She hoped with her slayer strength… she hadn’t given a hand job since she’d been called. She could be an unwitting danger to others.

“You got any KY or somethin’? It’ll speed things up.” Faith told Dean as he entered the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Wow. That’s so seductive, Faith.” Dean turned off the light.

Faith turned it back on and climbed under her bed covers.

Dean turned the light off. “You can find it in the dark.”

“I need the tissue box, pal.” Faith turned the light on once more. She needed to be in charge!

“You can find that in the dark too.” He didn’t want it to be all clinical. This was completely fucked up. He got into bed with her regardless and switched off the light. “Please.”

“If ya gonna beg.” Faith shrugged casually in the dimness of the room. If he was begging she still owned all the power.

“Okay, I’m begging.” Dean wrapped his arms around her and sought her mouth, kissing her closed lipped until she began to quickly to respond to him.

Faith enjoyed kissing Dean. She enjoyed everything he was doing to her with his hands and mouth.

They pulled off the last of Faith’s clothes between them apart from her panties, both deeply regretting she still had her period.

Lying sideways on the single bed, they ran their hands over each others bare skin exploring the mutually unfamiliar territory.

Dean licked his way down her throat and chest bone switching his attentions to one breast, then the other, unable to make up his mind about which one to pay more time to.

Soft purring sounds coming from Faith’s throat were the reward for these administrations.

He walked his right hand up between her thighs, skirting her vulva, rubbing in rhythmical swirls against her clothed mons. Faith’s purring sighs grew more urgent. He dragged his thumb slowly backwards and forwards over the silky fabric covering her clit.

She buried her face in his upper chest, tensing, waiting for the wave of feel-good release to hit her.

Dean’s hand was in serious danger of cramping, from the awkward position it was in, but it was too important not to stop. Otherwise… if she didn’t come too, this - whatever it was, wasn’t going to be as good somehow.

Faith came at last, the earth didn’t move with her orgasm, the world was not rocked, but she temporarily possessed a very warm and fuzzy attitude towards Dean. While endorphins were in temporary charge of her brain, she kissed her way down his torso to his groin.

Circumcised - with his Dad, Dean couldn’t be anything else. She encased his cock in her mouth as far as it could go without her gag reflex kicking into gear. Tonguing the shaft, licking the pre-cum off out of habit, finding the ridge of skin on the base to trail her tongue up as she removed her mouth and replaced it with her hands.

Firmly, but not too firmly, god forbid she tear the thing off accidentally, she enclosed her hands around his shaft, milking, replacing one sliding hand after another competently, occasionally bringing her wet mouth into play again.

Dean meshed his fingers through the top of her hair, pulling her up to kiss her, as he came with a cute little grunt. Faith, twisting her body so she could retain her hands on his cock and balls, thought the grunt was kinda cute anyways and sexy as all hell.

They lay silently in each others arms. Dean fell asleep a few minutes later, breathing deeply. Faith detached herself gently and walked over to sleep in the other bed.

A thought struck her. Where had Dean’s cum landed?

***
2007
***
Faith played with her hair, remembering, as she finished her cigarette outside on the cabin’s front steps.

“What are you smiling at?” Dean sat down beside her.

“Sam, being a snooping geek,” Faith ground her cigarette out in the dirt. “I spent more time with him than you that summer.

“Do you want to hit a liquor store in the nearest town and pick up a six pack?” Dean stuck his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah, let’s make it two, huh?” Faith winked up at him. “We’ve got a fuck of a lot of catching up to do.”

Nothing else matters - Chap 1: Living Dead Girl

2007-04-26T04:24:21Z

Picture by:MusesInspiration - livejournal.com/musesinspire
Title: Nothing else matters
Author: Kiwikatipo
Rated: F21
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al.
Pairing: Faith/Dean
Timeline: Post Chosen, post season two Supernatural. Story switches back and forth non-confusingly between 1998 and 2007.

Summary: Faith spent her summer on the run from Kakistos with the Winchesters. Nine years later Faith and Dean meet again.

Warning: Coarse Language. Does anyone truly give a shit? And it's not PWP so much as merely explicit sex.

***
May 2007
Lake Vermilion
Minnesota
***

Dean spent a long leisurely time in the shower in the primitive bathroom that afternoon. He hadn’t been alone for ages. The thought of a weekend to himself seemed damned appealing. No Sammy, no hunting, just him in a rustic log cabin belonging to Bobby in the middle of nowhere.

He badly needed a mental break after the messed up crap happening in his life this past year.

Clad only in a threadbare, stolen, motel towel, droplets of water still running down his body, he entered the main living quarters of the cabin to have lunch.

His heart sank as he spotted the duffle left on the couch. Bobby warned him he often lent out his cabin to other hunters.

“I hope whoever the hell you are; you left enough hot water, bud.” The young woman bent over the fireplace, pushing her long hair back safely out of the way, to blow on the fire she was starting. It was a cold if sunny afternoon. An expensive silver lighter lay on the rough wooden floor beside her. “I wanna wash my hair.”

Her greasy chestnut hair, the way she straightened up, her dark brown eyes widening at the sight of him, the tattoo on her arm.

“Faith?”

“I’ll be fucked, Dean?” Faith’s mouth dropped open in recognition. He still wore that silver ring she scored for him on his thumb?

When did she start smoking and swearing? And what the hell was she doing here? He always thought she died nine years ago.

***
August 1998
Firehouse Tavern
Jacksonville
Florida
***

Faith encouraged the tattooed bearded biker with B.O. to buy her another drink. If he got wasted enough he’d hopefully pass out before she needed to knock him unconscious and steal his wallet.

Although, Faith would kinda get off knocking the chump unconscious, who was she trying to kid? She owned a lot of hostility to work through, a lot of negative feelings. Seeing her watcher get killed like an animal in front of her back in late June, had left with Faith with even more issues, and she didn’t think Group Therapy was coming her way anytime soon.

Watching the middle-aged, balding, asshole, sneakily spike her drink up at the bar, made her next decision as easy as falling off a log for her. She’d beat the prick into a bleeding, moaning mess.

She’d been doing the world a freaking public service since she fled Boston, that was for real. New York: one hospitalized pimp, Faith up two hundred bucks. New Jersey: one left unconscious attempted rapist, Faith up sixty-eight bucks. Virginia: another attempted rapist, Faith up one thousand and forty dollars!

Rapists like that didn’t come along everyday tragically, and Mr. Vacuum Cleaner Salesman’s liberated wallet, combined with hitching rides from truckers, a van full of German tourists, and a motor home filled with a vacationing Mormon family from Utah, got her as far as Florida. She possessed twenty-three dollars to her name right now.

Florida hosted Faith ridding the world of a conquistador era vampire. She was called to pull crap like staking vampires, but it left a trail, and seeing how she was trying to avoid being killed by a centuries old Greek vampire it had been a mistake looking back.

Faith needed to stop looking back and look forwards, look west, not south.

“Hey, uh Miss?” The hottest guy in the bar was speaking to her. He was young, (like her he must be using fake I.D.) tall, sandy haired with open green eyes. He wore a lot of jewelry, but he didn’t seem queer, more kinda indie.

“Yeah?” Faith tried to not seem too impressed. She wished her hair was clean.

“That guy you’re with just put something in your drink.” Dean had been watching her since the minute she stepped into the biker bar. Like him she was among the youngest of the bar patrons. Like him she looked like she didn’t quite belong there. She appeared outwardly relaxed in this set up but she was new at it, he doubted she’d ever been in a bar like this before until today, in spite of the tight fitting snakeskin pants, in spite of the black cut off top that had her boobs half falling out. It was if she was trying out a new persona, god alone knew why the chick was trying out this one.

Faith noted he didn’t sound like he was from Florida and that was of the good, because she didn’t have much time for the general public the further south she went. Faith couldn’t work out if it was her or what, but she didn’t like the folks down here.

“He did?” Faith decided immediately to go back to his motel with this Boy Scout or whoever. She needed a hot shower desperately.

***
2007
***

Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the room through the paned glass windows on her, he knew she couldn’t be a lot of things that went bump in the night because of this, but he should really check further. “I thought you were dead.”

“Yeah, I hoped you’d think that, but I’m clearly not.” Faith hesitated, he was probably still paranoid. “So do you want me to cut my palm with a silver knife or spray holy water on me?”

“Works for me. Nothing personal, Faith.” Dean immediately went out to the car he’d borrowed from Bobby, the pebbles on the ground cutting into his bare feet. He opened the trunk and took out a leather pouch.

Faith was in the kitchen part of the cabin, when he came back in, boiling water for coffee.

“Hurry up.” Faith held out her hand.

“Maybe I should use an alcohol swab first.” Dean took out his knife.

“Cut me already.” Faith shook her hand out in readiness.

She always was impatient. He pricked her swiftly on her thumb, a drop of blood welled out of her thumb pad.

Faith debated in her mind if she should scream and fall to the ground writhing, to freak him out. She would have nine years ago.

Dean splashed a drop of holy water on the cut. There was no reaction from her. Her hand’s nails were well manicured.

“Happy?” Faith brushed past him. “I’m having a shower now. I have my coffee white, no sugar, remember?”

***
1998
***

“Thanks.” Faith emerged from the bathroom with damp hair, wearing a white tank top and a blue cotton skirt she’d shoplifted in Washington D.C. She’d changed into her remaining clean clothes and hurriedly washed all her underwear in the bathroom sink of the motel unit with the freebie shampoo sachets. They were hanging up to dry over the towel rail.

“You’re welcome.” Dean knew this situation could end up with him getting laid if he played his cards right, but he wasn’t sure how to hurry it along. His Dad and Sammy were due back any hour.

“You got anything to eat?” Faith asked hopefully. Her stomach rumbled on cue. The sound was embarrassingly loud in the silence of the motel unit.

“No… I could order pizza. Uh, what do you like?” Dean lay face down on the single bed in the main room and picked up the yellow pages.

“The works,” Faith threw herself down on his couch, sprawled out so it wouldn’t be possible for him to sit beside her and turned on the television set. “So what time are your old man and kid brother due back again?”

“Ten, eleven.” It was nine o’clock by this stage and she’d invited herself back to his motel unit with him. If he made a pass at her after the Pizza arrived… she didn’t seem nearly as drunk as she was when she got on the back of his motorbike half an hour ago. He thought she’d been pretending.

Great, Faith worked out, if she could hold him off until his family returned, she could get a free meal out of this without having to going through the potential hassle of refusing to blow him. She was on the rag and never into doing sex stuff if she wasn’t gonna get off in return.

Then she could crash the night in this motel’s kids’ playground. Faith could see they had a playhouse she could sleep inside. It was an unbelievably warm night.

The motel door unlocked and one of the tallest teenagers Faith had ever seen, loped into the room.

“Who’s she?” Sammy asked his brother immediately.

“Faith. Where’s Dad?” Dean cursed his luck. “Hello, ‘Papa’s Pizzas’?"

“He’s going back to that woman Melody’s, place tonight.” Sammy explained, flopping down on the single bed. “So do you live around here?”

“No, I’m on vacation sorta.” Faith shrugged evasively. “You enjoyin’ your summer break tourin’ Civil War battlefields?” Dean hadn’t known there’d never been a battle that took place in Florida but fortunately neither did Faith.

“Civil War battlefields? Yeah, it’s been real educational.” Sammy snorted, glancing at Dean in disbelief. “The ghosts of the past brought to life.”

“Yeah, ‘family special’ sounds fine.” Dean sighed down the phone. There was no way Faith was going to put out now he realized. He was beginning to severely doubt she would have in the first place, even if she had been dressed in the bar like a complete slut. He still couldn’t work out what the hell she’d been doing there. No, his father was getting laid tonight instead, wonderful.

***
2007
***

“So why did you leave like that?” Dean demanded, as soon as Faith returned to the living room.

“Do you still have that cute but mistaken notion, vampires are extinct?” Faith took up her coffee. She wore black jeans and a low cut green top, a silver cross hung from around her neck. He should have clicked onto that earlier. Seeing her again had shaken him.

“No. But they don’t die like you described either.” Dean was glad he had the chance to finally discuss this with her.

“There are different types, even I didn’t know that ten years ago. Is it ten years?”

“Nine, it’s been nine years.” Dean felt… he didn’t know how he felt. They’d just been a couple of kids after all. He didn’t know which of them had used the other more.

***
1998
***

“Yiz guys are going to San Diego?” Faith paused cramming pizza in her mouth.

“Yeah, we have to be there on the first of October.” Sammy flicked off the olives on his pizza slice, he hated them.

California, they were going to California.

She started to come on to Dean again. Agreeing eagerly to come into the bedroom with him and see his knife collection. Why did he have a knife collection?

He liked whittling.

As if.

Dean wasn’t sure why the wind had changed once again like it had with Faith’s attitude towards him. He put his arm around her shoulders experimentally as they sat on the one of the room’s single beds together, examining the knives.

“That one’s a Bowie, right?” Faith admired, not batting an eyelid at his arm on her.

“Yeah.” It was a cool surprise meeting a chick as into blade appreciation as Faith. She wasn’t faking it. He nuzzled her cheek with his mouth, kissing his way along the side of her jaw.

Her lips were warm and soft, slightly greasy from the cheese on the pizza.

They explored each others mouths enthusiastically, both tasting strongly of pepperoni.

Faith kinda liked Dean by this stage, which helped the next part of the proceedings a hell of a lot

He pushed her carefully on top of the bed and ground into her fully clothed, trying not to squash her.

He groped around under her tank top and unhooked her bra. Faith appreciated how gentle his hands were on her breasts, fondling them carefully not grabbing and squeezing.

She was getting breathless and turned on herself by the continued kissing and caressing, feeling all warm inside.

She put her hand on his groin. Stroking the bulge underneath his jeans without shame. She licked his ear and whispered huskily into it as he shivered.

“Hey Dean? If I can tag along to California with you, I’ll screw you the whole way. No strings attached. Love me, leave me.”

***
2007
***

“You’re a slayer? What, even before all the little girls got called?” Dean couldn’t believe he’d ever been so stupid.

“Uh huh.” Faith put her empty coffee mug into the kitchen sink. “I did try to tell you once.”

“Yeah you did. But you lied about everything Faith.” Dean had been completely pissed off at her lies upon lies in the end.

“So did you, bud.” Faith held no regrets, well maybe one. She survived that summer. It had been a crazy summer, even for her.

***
1998
***

“There is no way my Dad would agree to having you come with us.” Dean argued, lying beside her, squeezed on the bed. His hands were off her and his arms were folded defensively on his chest.

“Well aren’t you nineteen? Do hafta you do everthin’ he wants, like a good little puppy dog? Do what you want.” Faith uncrossed her legs, god the bed was comfortable, she could happily go to sleep, feeling temporarily safe for once.

Dean ran his hand down her the smooth skin of her bare thigh. “Okay, I’ll try. Now how about the hand job, sweetheart?”

Faith knocked his creeping fingers away. “After your old man agrees.” She got off the bed, “I’ll crash on the couch in case he comes back early. I wanna make a good impression, I guess.”

“Cover the tattoo then. What is it of anyway?” Dean got up as well, to brush his teeth before hitting the sack.

“Celtic tribal design, I’m all big on my heritage. It’s wicked cool huh?” Faith rubbed at the mark on her upper arm as if she wanted it to disappear.

Sammy had fallen asleep watching television.

Faith turned the television off and curled up on the couch.

Dean came out of the bedroom with a pillow, he tossed it to her.

“It’s not gonna work.”

Faith shuffled the pillow under her head. “But ya gonna try right?”

“Hell yeah.” Dean picked up Sammy’s jeans and removed the wallet from it for safekeeping.

Faith raised a contemptuous eyebrow. She wouldn’t have stolen the kid’s wallet. What was she? A retard?

***

Please me, tease me, go ahead and leave me

2007-04-17T21:55:00Z

Thirty-three year old, Kate Lockley’s head pounded, this was nothing new in her life. Her mouth tasted as if a gerbil expired in it, kicking and squealing, her mouth was as dry as Death Valley, again, nothing new in her life.

She was lying in the king sized bed, in a hotel room of a guy she had met the night before in a bar. That was not the least out of character for her, sadly.

What was the man's name again? Oh yeah.

“Thanks Harris.” Kate accepted the coffee the man gave her gratefully. She sat up, exposing her breasts as she drank her morning beverage, because they’d pretty much done everything you could do that involved swapping body fluids last night, so why the hell pretend to be Miss Dairy Queen, this morning?

She wasn’t expecting a connection with a man, hadn’t expected one, since she left L.A. in disgrace from the L.A.P.D. in February 2001. Never really had, since she hit twenty-five. There had been a souled vampire once… How screwed up could you get?

Xander hoped the woman would get dressed quickly and leave. He didn’t believe you had a connection with someone just because you made each other’s heart beat faster the night before. He hadn’t believed that in a long while.

Kate was a nice woman if bitter, but he wanted her out of here. He had things to do today.

Kate knew he wanted her to go as soon as possible, but too bad for him. She needed a shower.

She didn’t take very long to wash away all traces of his admittedly skillful touch on her body. Dressed and ready to leave, she came out into the main room, to hear him talking on his cell phone.

“Tonight, huh? Not a moment too soon.” Xander put his cell phone down and kissed her good bye dismissively on the cheek. “Nice meeting you, Kate.”

“Yeah, you too.” Thank Christ, he hypocritically wasn’t going pretend to take her phone number for future contact.

Apparently the guy was going to move to Cheever Lake today. Coincidence. Her newest client, an amnesiac woman named Faith Smith, lived there.

Kate hadn’t mentioned it. She had gone to the bar to forget her work as a Private Detective. Her work involved mostly trying to seduce clients’ husbands, to find out if they would cheat on their wives. The bastards always were prepared to.

This missing person case (in its own reverse way) was a pithy interesting contrast, to her usual slime filled days. The kind of thing Kate wanted to do when she first joined the force in sweet imitation of her old man. The drinking she did in bars sure imitated him.

Kate had a great lead come through for her regarding Faith Smith’s case. She’d traced the truck’s path that Faith had been found on. It had been enroute from L.A. to Seattle. And it passed through a small town named Sunnydale, in California.

The police in Seattle had always thought Faith must have been placed on the truck in Washington, never California, or even Oregon. Her injuries were so severe, how could Faith have survived a journey further than Washington?

But Kate needed to think outside the square, to find the key to unlocking Faith’s previous identity. The Sunnydale avenue had never been explored. There was a website set up for the previous inhabitants of the hole in the ground, that was now Sunnydale. And on that website was a message for someone named Faith. Saying to contact Maury, he had something from a friend for her.

Kate had made contact over the Internet and explained who she was. This guy, Maury, had told her he’d come up to Washington from California tomorrow. Maury warned Kate not to be alarmed over his skin condition.

Kate told him to relax. She was pretty opened minded.

She’d just got jiggy with someone with one eye after all. Kate chuckled ruefully to herself as she descended down to the ground floor in the hotel elevator.

How bad could Maury be?

***

Jake whistled cheerfully to himself as he loaded the dishwasher on Sunday morning.

He heard footsteps and straightened up, to see the sensible, yellow flannel, pajama clothed, hot body of the woman he loved, come into view.

Her hair hung down in a tangled mess around her face. Sexy.

Faith put the kettle on, avoiding his eyes.

“So how are you this morning?” Jake kissed Faith on the mouth passionately after she put her ‘world’s best mommy’ mug, down on the counter. There she was in the pink fluffy slippered flesh, his unexpected wildcat of the night before. “Not like you to sleep in. Wear yourself out last night?”

Faith felt her cheeks flush. Jesus! What had got into her last night? She was positive Jake must have scabbed welts on his back from her fingernails. And that weird dream she had this morning before waking. This tribal chick, telling her Faith didn’t know what she was, what she could be, but she would.

Faith often had weird dreams. In winter and spring 2003, she had a whole spate of nightmares, jerking her awake screaming. But they never made sense to her at the time, and she could never recall what they were about afterwards. A desert and something from beneath that devoured, was the best she could remember.

“Caitlyn’s expecting you to take her swimming.” Jake reminded her. “I’ll take her if you want, if you don’t feel up to it.” He hoped he hadn’t overstepped the mark with Faith in bed last night, but she seemed keen on everything he suggested at the time. Shit, his back hurt.

“No, you sort out your hunting rifles and crap. You don’t often get the day off.” Faith stirred sugar into her morning tea. “I’ll take her.”

***

The public swimming pool of Cheever Lake was pleasantly almost deserted, due to townfolk finishing their Christmas shopping.

Faith waited in the warm water for Caitlyn to dive off the beginner’s board. Caitlyn performed a perfect execution and swan dived into the water.

“Good one, honey.” Faith praised her daughter, twirling her around in the chlorine smelling water. “Now how about the higher one?”

“Okay. Come up with me?” Caitlyn was wearing a pink Hawaiian print bikini that matched her mother’s swimming costume. It had been Caitlyn’s idea to match their swimming costumes when they went shopping last summer. Faith had smiled indulgently and said, sure. Faith always wore a one piece suit, what with the knife scar and all.

“Of course.” Faith swam over, climbed out and waited at the poolside for her.

Caitlyn tripped running alongside the pool and landed hard on her arm.

“Ow!” Caitlyn began to cry, lying where she fell. “My arm hurts real bad, Mommy.”

“Does it, baby?” Faith gracefully knelt down to kiss it better.

“Ouch! No, it hurts! I want to go home now.” Caitlyn sobbed, smacking her mother's face accidentally, as she pushed Faith away from her arm.

“Don’t be deficient, we’ve only been here fifteen minutes. The signs tell you not to run. Serves you right. Now get up on the damn board.” Faith snarled at Caitlyn, pulling her roughly to her feet.

“No! I want to go home, now!” Caitlyn screamed at Faith distressed, flailing at her mother with her unhurt arm. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

The few people using the public pool stared at them.

“Don’t you fucking embarrass me in public, firecracker.” Faith hissed cruelly. “You get up on that damn board and you fucking dive. Or else I’m gonna whip you so hard when we get home, you won’t be sitting down for a week. I’ll use Jake’s belt to do it.”

Caitlyn gulped. Faith had never hit her before. Caitlyn got sent to her room, when she occasionally got on Faith’s nerves. Her mother had never sworn at her until today. Firecracker? Mommy had never called Caitlyn that term before either.

Caitlyn was terrified. She stumbled sobbing to the diving board, wincing every step of the way as she climbed the ladder.

“Hey, Faith?” A mom, Faith knew from Caitlyn’s afternoon care center, came over to her. “I think Caitlyn’s really hurt her arm.”

***

“And she dived, Jake. She was that scared of me.” Faith wept with guilt in the basement. “She has a fractured arm, the doctor said. I was a complete bitch to her.”

“Yeah, hate to say it, Faith, but you were.” Jake paused in his stock take of cartridges. Faith didn’t have a mean bone in her body. He knew last night had been too good to be true. “Do you think… possession?”

“I don’t think so. Let’s see what happens when I go to Church this afternoon.” Faith wiped her eyes fiercely. “She told me her teddy bear’s disappointed in me.” Faith intended to dunk that teddy bear in the font filled with holy water and see what happened.

***

The family arrived home from the late afternoon service at Cheever Lake’s, only Catholic Church, racing through the front door to beat the cold.

Caitlyn scampered upstairs. Mr. Wilkins wanted to play hide and seek.

Nothing strange had happened to either mom or bear in Church that early evening. It had been tricky to explain to Father Moore, the exact reason why Faith was dipping her daughter’s, teddy bear’s paw in holy water.

Faith walked into the kitchen, preparing to bake a cake for the church fund-raiser stall on Main Street tomorrow.

Jake descended into the basement, to finish his sorting out of his hunting equipment.

Peace reigned on the house, another quiet uneventful Sunday evening in small town suburbia.

There was a funny red light moving in the kitchen. Must be one of the kids next door, playing with a laser beam.

Faith bent down to put her cake in the oven.

A rain of tranquilizer darts shattered the glass pane of the kitchen window and whistled over her head.

What the fuck?

Faith threw herself down on the floor and snaked her way over to the dishwasher. There was the biggest carving knife in the house there. Faith didn’t know why her brain was screaming at her to retrieve it.

Three men crashed simultaneously in the house. One through the kitchen window and two through the living room.

The man in the kitchen was dressed in black combat gear and wore a balaclava over his face.

Faith had never seen the like. Especially not in her kitchen.

Reflexes and instincts Faith never knew she had, kicked into gear. Abandoning her quest for a knife, she jumped off the floor in order to be able to sprint into the dining room. Slamming the door behind her.

She grabbed a heavy silver candle stick off the table. Nimbly she ducked behind the door, waiting for it to open.

She used the candlestick to brain the kitchen guy, when he cautiously opened the door. He went down instantly, with a satisfying cracking sound as she smashed his skull.

Once he was felled, Faith became free to fight the other two men who burst into the dining room. It was effortless for her to kick the automatic out of one of their hands. It came naturally to her to dive somersaulting over the colonial dining table, to dodge the bullets from the other man’s automatic.

The Christmas music playing surrealy on the kitchen radio filtering through the house, became replaced in her brain with a heavy driving hard rock track. Which was odd if she’d thought about it rationally, because normally Faith liked 'The Dixie Chicks'.

It was like being a ballerina. Was that was what she had been before her memory loss? Pirouetting around the dining room in a deathly dance.

Jake came up from the basement with one of his hunting rifles and shot the man still armed in the back.

Which left Faith in the satisfying position to beat the living crap out of the disarmed guy. Beat him into a bloody screaming pulp.

“Stop it!” Jake shook her shoulder, he had his rifle to keep the intruder covered. He wanted her to ring the police.

“Fuck off, lover. This one’s mine.” Faith snapped the man’s neck with her bare hands.

Jake would never have suspected of Faith being capable of performing such an act. He never dreamed she’d even know how.

Neither did Faith.

The law enforcement officers were amazed by it.

“Maternal instincts, Faith.” The sheriff guessed, as he took Faith’s witness statement that night. “You knew your daughter was in the house and you had to protect her.”

“Yeah.” Faith hadn’t given Caitlyn a thought until the man lay dead under her hands.

“Who were they?” Jake couldn’t work it out. “Why us?” His first thought was naturally that their attackers were Satanists. But two of the corpses were wearing crosses around their necks.

And his birth mother did not desire Jake’s death, she wanted him to love her and help rule the world in evil with her.

The hit squad from wherever hadn’t focused on him in any case. The ‘soldiers’ or whoever they were, were clearly after Jake’s sweet, innocent fiancé.

“I haven’t a clue, son.” The sheriff had been friends with Jake’s dead adoptive uncle, the former town sheriff.

One of the deceased intruders had been Indian. Clearly the would be assassins were out of towners’. There were only two Indian families in the whole of Cheever Lake. The man who Faith whaled into called her ‘a bloody bitch’, before he became able to only to grunt in agony.

The sherrif scratched his head. “But we’ll find out. You just get your family into a hotel tonight.”

“Yeah.” Jake nodded in agreement, they couldn’t stay in the house tonight, not with the mess it was in, and it was now a crime scene. He cuddled a crying Caitlyn to him harder. What the hell was the world coming to?

***

Faith decided she must carry on with making her planned trip into Seattle, the next day, and meet up with Kate, and the mystery Maury. Those men had been after her. She needed to find out about her past for a clue, as to why anyone would want her dead like that.

She kissed Jake and Caitlyn good-bye in their motel room. She didn’t want them to come out in the cold. Telling them to look after each other. A neighbor had volunteered to baby sit Caitlyn today fortunately.

Faith walked across the motel car park. A one eyed man, got out of his four wheel drive, as she prepared to open the door of her small Japanese hatchback.

He looked her up and down in amazement.

Faith wondered if she had dirt on her clothes. No. Her faded blue denim jeans, turtle-neck gray sweater and warm sheepskin jacket were completely respectable. Her denim scrunchy, tying up her pony tail, matched her jeans in fact.

“You had a narrow escape, Faith.” The guy put his hand to his inside jacket pocket.

“A higher power was watching out for us, I guess.” Faith knew the bizarre attack on her house would have made the local news if not State news. Who was this one eyed guy in a sophisticated woolen suit? Oh god, he wasn’t a journalist was he?

The motel cleaners rumbled past with their linen, laden trolleys on the sidewalks outside the motel units.

Xander couldn’t believe this soccer mom crap, Faith was pulling. She’d murdered three Watchers Council members less than eleven hours ago. He’d come back from viewing their bodies in the town morgue. The identification he carried these days, got him in anywhere, no questions asked.

He couldn’t kill her here, too many witnesses. Why wasn’t she attacking him? Obviously the same reason.

Faith shrugged in dismissal at the rude freak staring at her and got in her car. Emerald City, here she came.

Heaven knows what a girl can do

2007-04-17T21:53:44Z

December 2006
***

Jake sat at the desk of his computer store. Ironic, he mused, that he never wanted to work from six to eight like his father, at the local mill, and yet going into small business for himself often made him keep similar hours.

He yawned with fatigue and set back to work. Jake fiddled with his tiny screwdriver, into the intricate innards of a hard drive. Footsteps approaching made him look up.

“Dakota?”

His dead high school sweetheart, stood before him. Still twenty-one, still wearing microscopic mini-skirts.

“Enjoying small town life? How can you? This town sucks, Jake.” Dakota spun his chair around and sat astride his lap. She began feverishly kissing him.

Jake didn’t even try to resist as she pulled the zipper of his fly down, in order to copulate perfunctorily with him. She still didn’t wear underwear he noted.

He released himself inside her with a muffled grunt. Dakota got off him immediately.

“Still not needing a post coital cuddle I see. Did Satan send you to make love to me?” Jake sighed wearily. “You’re a succubus now, I take it?”

“Satan sent me to ‘fuck’ you, and yeah, I’m a succubus.” Dakota confirmed his suspicions. “But I was hoping for a catch up yack.”

“Huh, that was a big waste of time for you Dakota, just then.” Jake smiled smugly. “I had a vasectomy last year. I figured Satan might still want my DNA to bring about an Armageddon.”

“Shit!” Dakota kicked the leg of the desk where Jake sat. “You didn’t try and put up a fight. Fiancé, boring you in bed already?”

“No. I thought you were a freebie wet dream at first.” Jake began to go back to his work. “So, how’s Hell been treating you?”

“Climate’s fucked, but other than that, working out okay.” Dakota swung herself to sit on to his desk. “It’s a bitch getting to this town from the fiery pit though. You need to emerge in the Hellmouth of Portland and then take a Greyhound bus. No forking out for a hire car for us lower rank demons.”

“Mother’s evil.” Jake shook his head in sympathy.

****

The Cheever Lake, Store Merchants, Christmas Parade, was a much looked forward to annual event, in the small Washington town.

Faith had been roped into appearing in the parade this year. She would be sitting beside her boss, Wal, in a float. Wal had been commandeered by the Merchants Association to play the role of a gray bearded, biker, Santa Claus.

Faith got dressed in her bedroom for the event. Dark brown-haired, dark brown-eyed, Caitlyn, watched her mother get changed, sitting on Faith and Jake’s bed.

Seven year old Caitlyn, clutched her battered teddy bear, Mr Wilkins. Faith had christened the bear. Caitlyn had been given the bear by a social worker, the day she was born.

“So Caitlyn, Mommy will have all the next ten days of your Christmas vacation off, and I’ll teach you how to dive in the town heated swimming pool, huh?” Faith pulled on her fishnet pantyhose. “I’m real proud of you, kitten, that you let Jake teach you how to swim this summer.”

“Can I call Jake, Daddy, now? Do I have to wait until you get married next spring?” Caitlyn asked, she held her bear up to her ear. “Mr. Wilkins thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Crap!” Faith paused zipping up her black high heel boots. “You’re just pretending, right? Your teddy bear doesn’t really tell you to do things?”

“No, don’t be silly, Mommy.” Caitlyn giggled, lying back on the bed. Her teddy bear didn’t tell her what to do. He merely talked to her ever since they came to Cheever Lake.

“Thank God for that.” Faith pulled her dress on roughly. Man, this mini skirted, Mrs. Claus outfit was slut city. Her boobs were practically falling out of the red and white top.

“You look pretty, Mommy.” Caitlyn purred in admiration. “Mr. Wilkins thinks so too. But he hopes you’re not going to catch a cold, wearing your costume out tonight.”

“Sucks, ya always gonna be an only child.” Faith pursed her lips. Then maybe Caitlyn wouldn’t need her imaginary friend. “Come on, let’s get you into your elf costume. And let’s leave Mr. Wilkins behind, huh?”

“Uh uh.” Caitlyn shook her head firmly. “Mr. Wilkins likes parades. He thinks they’re a fine display of civic pride.”

***

Xander Harris came across as a hard young man. He had seen things that made him hard. Things like his ex-fiancé’s corpse, cut in half with a sword. The body of his best friend, lying broken on the ground, after a fall. His other best friend, slashing her arms with a knife to resurrect the first friend. Xander had helped save the world five times. And seen Buffy Summers, die three times.

His favorite blond bombshell wouldn’t be coming back this time. He would only have one eye to see it with, if she did. The socket where his eye had been, ached occasionally. Painkillers took away the physical pain.

There were other medications that took away emotional agony.

Xander opened another can of beer. Hopefully he wasn’t gonna turn out like his old man.

He turned on the television set in the hotel room where he lay in bed alone. He had a decent buzz going by this stage.

“And they sure know how to celebrate Christmas in Cheever Lake, North Washington.” The patronizing television commentator announced.

Boring, who the hell wanted to see some small town Christmas parade? Xander prepared to switch channels.

“Check out the Biker Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus. No reindeer for them, pulling their sleigh, but horse power is provided by Heaven’s Angels, on motorcycles. Reformed Satanist bikers. Heaven’s Angels, perform a lot of charity work…”

Xander couldn’t hear what the commentator was saying. He was too busy staring in amazement at rogue slayer, Faith, waving to the crowd on her float.

Faith was continually hitching up the bodice of her dress as she waved.

He picked up his cell phone immediately, hitting speed dial for London. “Giles, it’s me. Faith’s alive!”

Xander listened to Giles sleepy complaints. He put up with it for ten seconds. “Yeah, sorry, time diff, not my problem. And yeah, I know that short lived German chick, got called in May ’99, so we thought Faith was dead. But unless that’s a zombie, I saw, with her mammary glands, half hanging outta her dress, the Boston psycho, is alive and kicking.”

Xander listened another ten seconds to Giles, before forcefully cutting in. “You know what’s gonna happen in Cheever Lake. Deal with it much? Send in a wet works squad. Merciful Zeus, Giles, channel Ripper. We need to take Faith out. Remember what happened with Dana?”

***

Jake drove Faith and Caitlyn home from the parade. They drove through forested countryside, after dropping Wal back to his cabin located on the outskirts of town.

“Great dress, Mrs. Claus.” Jake winked at Faith sitting beside him in the front seat. “Keep it on all night.”

“You’d like that, huh?” Faith scoffed at the dumb notion. Fat chance! There was no way she was into dressing up and doing weird stuff in the bedroom. What was she, a deviant? No, Faith was straight as they came.

This amused Jake. He didn’t care, but Faith was almost hung up about sex in some ways. She was rather unadventurous in bed, but she completely made up for it in his opinion, by having a very high sex drive.

He had told her about his previous evenings encounter with Dakota. Faith hadn’t liked it, but understood his confusing an actual manifestation of a demon, with a wet dream. Jake liked that about Faith, she never made a big deal about things.

“Keep your eyes on the road, bud.” Faith smiled, she put her hand on his thigh, to show she had amorous intentions towards him tonight just the same.

“My eyes are on the road. Caitlyn sweetie, what are you doing?” Jake asked puzzled his step daughter to be, she was crouching over in the back seat, straining against her seat belt.

“Mr. Wilkins told me to duck and cover.” Caitlyn explained, burying her bear against her chest as she covered her head in her arms.

“Duck?” Jake didn’t understand, he turned his head to see what the hell she was doing.

“Jesus, Jake!” Faith screamed in alarm. “Watch out for the fucking moose!”

The moose crossed their vehicle’s path and stood stunned in the headlights.

Jake couldn’t avoid hitting the wretched animal with a bang and a cracking of his car’s windshield. He swerved off the icy road.

The moose slid over the hood of the car. His hoof smashed through the window, kicking Faith on the top of her head, as she bent down instinctively.

The world went black for her.

***

Faith was discharged from the hospital the next day. The doctors were amazed at her quick recovery.

Faith knew she had an incredible constitution. Apparently she died in Seattle, in an ambulance, after her discovery on the back of the truck in 1999. The paramedics had been able to bring her around, fortunately. Or there would have been no more Faith, and no little Caitlyn, the sunshine of Faith’s life.

It had been hard to try and explain to Caitlyn, why she had no Daddy like other little girls did. Thank God, Jake Gray was in their lives now.

Faith wondered if she had been a virgin, who had got knocked up the first time she had sex. Or if she had been in a loving relationship and the condom broke. Who was Caitlyn’s father? Obviously someone tall and good looking judging from Caitlyn. Faith hoped she had loved him very much.

But that was retarded, of course Caitlyn’s dad would have been someone she loved. Faith only went to bed with men she held in the highest regard. She’d only had two boyfriends before she and Jake got together.

Who was Faith’s father? Did she have a loving family out on the East Coast who were worried sick about her? Long since given up their daughter for dead.

Maybe not.

Jake came into the kitchen that early evening, to find a devastated Faith, getting off the phone, from her private detective.

“Bad news?” Jake put his arm around her shoulders.

“Kate Lockley, went over my x-rays I sent her, from my stay in Seattle General Hospital in 99, with a forensics expert she knew.” Faith buried her face in his chest. “She said my hand bones show the signs of having being broken as a child. In a way, that only an adult coulda freaking done to me, deliberately.”

“Hey.” Jake twisted her ponytail lovingly in his hands. “That doesn’t mean that it was your family that did that to you, maybe you were kidnapped as a child. I was.”

“Yeah, maybe. But that’s kinda wicked vile too.” Faith straightened up. “Anyway, some good news. She doesn’t think I’m from Philly, or New York, the way everyone else did back in ’99. She thinks like Wal does, I’m from Boston.”

“Great!” Jake had never heard Faith’s accent when she first awoke from her coma. She always sounded ambiguously East Coast to him. “Let’s look up Boston Landmarks, right now online, see if anything comes back for you.”

Faith and Jake poured over tourist pictures of Boston on the internet. Caitlyn played happily on the floor in the background, with her teddy bear, Mr. Wilkins and her favorite dolly, Mrs. Summers. Faith had named her doll for Caitlyn as well.

Caitlyn was playing tea parties. “No, Mr. Wilkins. You cannot eat spiders; it’s cupcakes for company, silly bear.”

“God, that kid is whack sometimes.” Faith shrugged and went back to the images on the screen. “Ooh shit. That picture of Harvard University, the grounds? I’ve been there, Jake!”

“Maybe you were a child prodigy, academic genius.” Jake kissed her playfully on the nose. “Ever think about that?”

“You know how boring I find book stuff.” Faith hugged him. Jake was full of encouragement over her idea to go to Boston for their honeymoon to see if it would trigger memories for her.

“No, Mr. Wilkins!” Caitlyn snapped. “I don’t like drinking milk in pretend games. Mommy makes me drink it enough already.”

“Are you five by five over there, Caitlyn?” Faith asked her daughter in amusement.

Caitlyn nodded sagely. “It’s my game and I’m drinking 7Up.”

“You do that, kiddo.” Jake encouraged her. “Show your teddy bear who’s boss.”

He stroked Faith on the back. “Five by five? What does that mean? Never heard it before.”

“Everything’s fine. ‘Nam vets’ used it a lot. Musta heard it in the tattoo parlor.” Faith stood up and stretched. “Chicken soup for dinner?”

Jake insisted on making dinner for them, which involved ringing up the local Pizza Parlor, much to Caitlyn’s delight and Faith’s eye rolling.

Their normal family routine was followed after Hawaiian Pizza consumption. Bath-time for Caitlyn. Mr. Wilkins liked to watch the news with Jake during that time. Caitlyn would prop the stuffed toy up on an armchair, before she went to the bathroom. Faith wondered fleetingly if she should deliberately lose the bear.

Story-time for Caitlyn, once she was in her pajamas. Jake would read Caitlyn a chapter from 'The Wind in the Willows'. Mr. Wilkins sitting on Caitlyn’s pillow.

“He said you skipped a page.” Caitlyn mumbled sleepily. “Good night Daddy.”

“Night pumpkin.” Jake kissed the little girl on the cheek.

He walked down the passageway. Unexpectedly he was grabbed by Faith and pulled into their bedroom.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Jake gasped, as he was flung onto the bed. She was so strong he never could get over it.

“Candy-stripers uniform, I picked it up in the early hours, exploring around the hospital.” Faith practically burst out, in an appealing way, of the size too small dress.

“Picked up? What, you stole it?” Jake couldn’t believe his ears. Faith’s honesty put everybody else to shame normally.

“I saw it.” Faith knelt astride him. “I wanted it.” She unbuttoned his flannel shirt eagerly. “I took it and now I have it.”

“What, to make love to me in?” Jake guessed Christmas had come early for him.

“To get sweaty with you in, lover.” Faith’s face wore a hardened lecherous expression, he’d never seen before. She tugged off his t-shirt. “So don’t be deficient, live out any depraved fantasy you’ve ever had regarding the medical profession with me.”

Jake always nurtured a few secret fantasies he wanted to try out with her. Hell, Faith should get kicked in the head by a moose more often. Who needed a visiting succubus, with this new improved attitude in the bedroom on Faith's part? Ouch, she was kind of rough though.

Prop me up with another Pill

2007-03-26T21:04:58Z

Title : The Long Kiss Goodnight.
Author : Kiwikatipo
Rating : F18

Disclaimer : The BtVS folks belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Faith's bio from ‘Go Ask Malice’ by Robert Joseph Levy. Devour people belong to William and Seth Gross and Bigel/Mailer Films.

Humor: It’s not haha so much, as crack, in that you have to believe Faith doesn’t give a crap her boyfriend is the son of Satan. It’s certainly not angst, and there will be humorous one liners throughout I promise.

Summary: Faith Lehane fell off the roof after B. gutted her and onto the back of a truck bound for Washington. When she awoke from her coma a week later, she was amnesiac and knocked up.

In May, 2004 she hooks up with Jake Gray in pysch rehab. He did not commit the murders of his adoptive parents, Satan did. Faith killed her vampire boss. No one believed them.

Now it’s 2007. Faith and Jake are real happy together, except for various opposing groups wanting Faith and Jake dead. And who is this mystery one eyed guy, newly arrived in the small Washington town of Cheever Lake, who looks kinda like Faith’s daughter Caitlyn?

Timeline: Story takes place December 2006. So Faith almost twenty- six. Jake twenty-three.

***

PROLOGUE

***
Washington State
June 2004

“I dunno, I look in the mirror sometimes, and wonder how old I really am. The docs’ reckon, I’m aged twenty-three to twenty-five. Is my name really Faith?” Faith chewed off another piece of flesh from around her bitten to the quick nails. “I mean, all I had to go on was a screwed up ‘post it note’ found in my jeans pocket, which said. ‘Faith, clinic called, appointment now 2.20pm.’”

Faith guessed the message must have been regarding a medical check up. For when she awoke from her week long coma in Seattle, Washington, after being found unconscious on the back of a truck, the doctors informed her she was four months pregnant. She hadn’t looked knocked up. Faith had carried high, right up until the time she gave birth.

“But at least I have Caitlyn, I’m not alone. So even though no one knows who I am, I don’t know who I am, what I was, I’m good.” What would become of her five year old daughter Caitlyn, in foster care, with those two humorless, do gooders looking after her? They weren’t bringing Caitlyn to visit Faith enough.

Faith crossed her legs defensively. “I look in the mirror and I see the scar on my belly and wonder who would do that to a teenager? Who would gut them with a knife? Hit me around so much, that the head injuries have given me permanent amnesia about who I am? What kinda sick weirdo…” Faith realized where she was sitting. There were lots of candidates for that kind of action, in the room with her right now.

“Thank you, Faith.” The group therapist excused her from continuation of social embarrassment. “Jake, would you like to tell us about yourself?”

“Not especially.” Jake hunched over his chair. Should he describe who his schizophrenic visions made him out to be? The twenty one year old son of Satan?

“I’m Jake Gray. I grew up in Cheever Lake, Washington, with my Dad, a mill worker and my Mom, who was an invalid. They were devout Christians, good people. I went to Cheever Lake Community College, before I did stuff that landed me here.”

The stuff, being murdering his adoptive parents in the woods. Except Jake hadn’t murdered his parents. His birth mother, Satan, had killed them, hoping for Jake to choose to be the new Prince of Darkness. Jake refused and Satan forced him to drink his adoptive parents’ blood out of a silver cup in punishment.

Bonus, he was now completely human and didn’t get constant visions from Satan telling him to kill everyone any more. Downside, he was locked up in this mental asylum for the criminally insane, framed by the Devil for his parents’ murders, in punishment for his rejection of her.

But then Jake worried if he was crazy he would think that. So he guessed he really did kill his Mom and Dad. That honestly sucked.

Faith sneaked a peak at the guy sitting beside her on a chair. Like herself he was garbed in gray track pants and a t-shirt, slippers on his feet. He would probably normally be considered good looking, tall, sandy brown haired, hazel eyed, symmetrically featured. His face was puffy from his medication however, and he had a straggly, two month, beard going on for him.

Faith didn’t belong in this room with monsters like him. She wasn’t crazy. Was she? How had she ended up here? She thought in a drugged haze, back to the circumstances leading her to be in this hot room, where an electric fan slowly whirled in the corner.

Faith’s boss at the gas station where she worked, had called her up, asking her to come over to his house on important business, two months ago. Faith had gone over immediately, because Mr Foster, her employer for the past two years, was a decent guy, completely on the up and up.

Boy oh boy, was Faith wrong. Mr Foster had savagely attacked her the minute she came in through the front door. Ripping at her clothes. Biting at her neck. She guessed terror lent her the extra strength needed to save herself. She pushed him off her instinctively, sending him flying through his living room. Mr Foster had hit the blind cord against the wall, causing the roller blind to spring up. The midday sun had streamed in on him, causing him to burst into flames on the faded carpet.

And she’d covered it up, (not well, and why would she? It was hardly like she was a natural born killer) because she didn’t think anyone would believe her story, that Mr Foster had fangs when he tried to rape her, and she couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace, during his attempted forcing himself upon her.

No one did believe Faith. Everyone thought she was a paranoid schizophrenic, and had murdered her kindly boss, by burning him to death. Of course paranoid schizophrenics didn’t think they were crazy. So maybe Faith truly was. She’d experienced bad post natal depression after Caitlyn’s birth, she obviously suffered a tendency toward mental illness.

***

July 2004

“That’s nice… what you’ve done to your basket.” Jake reached over to pick up more colored beads, from the tray on the table between them.

“Uh, thanks.” Faith regarded her beaded basket with pride. “I kinda like making stuff. Yours is coming along okay, too.”

“Not as good as yours.” Jake dropped his beads on the floor. The medication he was taking made him clumsy.

Faith took pity on his unco fumbling.

“Hold on, pal.” Faith reached down and lifted the table up to reach an inaccessible bead for him. “There you go.”

“Shit, you’re strong.” Jake blinked. He didn’t think that was a hallucination he just witnessed. It wasn’t violent at least, thank god.

“Yeah.” Damn, Faith normally tried to hide her freak strength, but the new pills, the white coats, had switched her to, made her head fuzzy.

***

“So why the orchid? It’s real pretty, in a manly way of course.” Faith kicked her legs languidly beside Jake in the therapy pool. Faith didn’t want to be a bitch.

“My mom’s favorite flower.” Jake felt pleased that was what the tattoo on the inside of his wrist looked like again these days to him. Not a goat’s head.

“I wish my tattoo was a flower. This barbed wire tat on my arm? It’s kinda biker chick, so not me.” Faith raised her right leg high in a slender calved stretch.

“You could get roses done over the top of it.” Jake suggested. Faith was very sweet, she was right; the barbwire tattoo didn’t suit her at all. He guessed he’d find her hot if circumstances were different, but he had the libido of a cucumber at the moment, thanks to the new drugs the shrinks had put him on.

The fact she murdered her boss was a turn off too.

***
November 2004

“I feel all wound up.” Faith confessed to Jake, as they sat huddled on the grass together, hidden by the trees on the grounds of the asylum. “Having a fight like that with Caitlyn’s foster parents, and not being able to slap that smug cow’s face. Hold me?”

Jake put his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. The sensible pony tail, Faith always wore her hair up in, bunched up in his face.

“Thanks, I just wanna be touched, you know?” Faith leaned back in Jake’s arms chastely. “I thought there was a higher power looking after us.”

“Don’t ever say that.” Jake shuddered, he knew who the higher power looking after him was.

Faith ignored him, carrying on. “Like, that new detective in the Seattle P.D., works out I’m innocent, because my boss died outta spontaneous human combustion. And you get cleared, because it was obvious judging from the re-examination of forensic evidence, it was your crazy ex girlfriend, who framed you for those murders.”

“And what happened?” Jake kissed her the back of head comfortingly. He wasn’t trying anything on. Faith wasn’t that kind of girl.

“I’m not getting Caitlyn back, not until I can prove I have a decent place to live and a job.” Faith’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked them away. No point being a cry baby. That wouldn’t get her Caitlyn back.

“You can stay in my folks house if you want, until you get on your feet. No strings…” Jake couldn’t get it up if he tried still, even though it had been two days since he stopped taking his drugs. “I’ve inherited my parents house, now it’s been proven I didn’t kill them. I’m gonna go away and finish my schooling somewhere else. I’ve got my parents life insurance policy to pay for my education and I owe you.”

“Hey, I owe you.” Faith replied back, smacking his thigh gently in reprimand.

Faith overhearing Satan disguised as a nurse, tempting Jake to be evil one more time, proved to them both they were sane.

***
January 2005

“So what do you think?” Jake finished showing Faith around his parents’ house.

“Oh god, it’s wicked sweet! Caitlyn will love it here. I love it here!” Faith gazed at the blue and white furnishings filling the spacious three bedroom house, in delight. The two storied, wooden residence, was such a lovely family home. The leaf covered, swimming pool out the front was a safety hazard, she’d have to get a fence put around it, until she could teach Caitlyn how to swim.

“Yeah, has a good feeling again, since I got Father Moore, to bless the basement where Satan appeared to me.” Jake admitted, he flung himself down on a couch. “So it’s yours for the time being. I’ll sell the place when I come back from Washington U.”

***

May 2006

Faith walked beside Jake by Cheever Lake. It was a spring day, pink and white blossoms on the trees, reflected back on the calm surface of the large body of water. Caitlyn was in school.

Jake skimmed a stone over the water. “Shit, all I ever wanted was to leave this town. But I’ve seen the world now and I find out I like it best here. Crazy, huh?”

“We are officially insane, don’t forget, bud. Cheever Lake’s, a kinda cracked set up, for all its picket fenced charm.” Faith put her hands in the pockets of her tan sheepskin jacket. She dressed pretty conservatively, what with being a single mom on a tight budget. And Washington could get real cold, so why display flesh you didn’t need to? “Weird things happen here.”

“Yeah. It is that kind of town.” Jake agreed, putting his hands in his own denim jacket pockets. “So you’re not seeing anyone?”

“Nah, had a nice boyfriend for a while, but he got transferred to Portland for his job.” Faith smiled shyly. “Didn’t I mention that in an e-mail?”

“Yeah. But I thought by now…” Jake didn’t know quite how to change the pen pal relationship he’d developed with Faith into something else.

“No.” Faith waited for him to make the first move. She wasn’t going to throw herself on him like some sex crazed slut. On the other hand she had always found Jake incredibly attractive, ever since he came off his medication and started shaving again. There was a sex crazed slut that lurked within every woman she guessed. Hurry up Jake!

“I’m trying to play this cool. I’m gonna fail.” Jake pulled her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers.

Their kiss turned out to be quite heated.

“Mmm.” Faith detached herself reluctantly from him, half an hour later. “I need to pick up Caitlyn from school. She has a welcome back party planned for you.”

Caitlyn got on well with Jake whenever he visited them in the past year.

Their shared romantic kiss had not come out of the blue for Faith and Jake, in any respect.

***

A naked Jake hopped out of bed and blew out the candle burning on the window ledge.

“I thought for one awful minute, you were gonna drip it on me.” Faith chuckled, drawing the covers back over him when he returned to her.

“You’re enthusiastic but straight as they come in bed, Faith.” Jake grinned teasingly at her. “I just wanted to set the mood."

‘Hey, ya not into weird sex crap are you?” Faith screwed up her nose in distaste. “I’m not into making love combined with pain in any way. It’s bent!”

“Well, don’t squeeze my ribs so hard next time.” Jake tickled her in pay back.

“God, I’m sorry! Sorry!” Faith shrieked happily, pushing him off her.

“Man, I love you.” Jake stroked her upper arm once they calmed down. Her previous tattoo currently disguised as an ornate feminine wreath, of black and white flowers.

Faith’s boss, at her job in a tattoo and piercing parlor, had performed the body art modification for her. Her gray bearded boss, was a born again Christian, ex-Satanist, Jake knew.

“Love you too.” Faith cuddled into him. “You know, even if that P.I., Kate Lockley, I hired in Seattle last week, to find out who I really am, can come through with something? Sounds retarded, but I don’t think I could ever be happier than I am right now.”

“Glad to hear it. What, not even if Caitlyn learns how to swim finally?” Jake checked disbelieving. Caitlyn was phobic of water for some reason.

“Oh yeah, scratch that.” Faith looked up at him and winked shamelessly. “Hey, scratch me, for round two?”

All The Fun of the circus

2007-03-13T00:46:17Z

Title: All the fun of the circus
Author: Kiwikatipo

Disclaimer: the characters from Supernatural and BTVS do not belong to me they belong to the great Joss Whedon and Erik Kripke.

Summary: Written For the ‘Slaying the Supernatural’ ficathon. Buffy Winchester set this criteria to follow. Pairings, Faith/John, no non con, no Airhead/Bitchy Buffy, no angst. Wanted a first date that doesn't get interrupted by demons, main characters with real jobs, Buffy and Faith getting along.

***

Buffy Summers walked around the gold and white decorated bridal boutique, checking out the prices on the dresses in the January 2006 sales. Expensive white satin goodness.

That Faith intended to wear a traditional white dress to marry Robin Wood in this upcoming spring came as no true surprise to Buffy. Faith led an apparently very wholesome life the last three years, living with Robin in his hometown New York. Why shouldn’t Faith wear a white dress?

All the daughters and mothers shopping here today made Buffy feel wistful. When newly engaged Buffy got married next year, Joyce would not be by her daughter’s side, to help guide Buffy through the rituals and traditions of weddings.

“No, Danielle, that style won’t suit you because you haven’t lost enough weight!” A mother snapped at her daughter.

“You just want to outshine me like you always do! Even at my own damn wedding.” The daughter burst into tears.

Or perhaps shopping for wedding dresses might not be the fun expedition with Joyce Buffy dreamed it would be.

Buffy looked at her watch. God, had Faith died in her changing cubicle or something?

Buffy never in her wildest dreams expected to go bridal dress shopping with Faith, but finding herself in New York this week, on New Watchers Council business, she dropped in on Faith and Wood. Wood arranged somehow for Buffy to accompany Faith today, on Faith’s previously solo shopping expedition.

Wood suggested to Buffy aside that she persuade Faith to try on gowns with a fur trim.

Kinda whack.

Buffy knocked on the door of Faith’s cubicle. “Hey can I see?”

There was no answer, but did Buffy hear a sniff?

Oh god, poor Faith probably wanted her mother with her too, at this time. Of course from the sounds of Faith’s mother, the woman could very well be passed out drunk on the tasteful black and white, slate tiles of the store floor by now. But this might make wedding dress shopping seem worse for Faith today.

Buffy came into the large cubicle to find a desolate Faith, clad in a white dress, with a fur bodice, sitting on the floor of the changing cubicle.

Faith jerked her head up, dashing her closed fist across her face, to smear away tears. “I can’t fuckin' go through with it B.”

***

The New York demon bar let their patrons smoke. Buffy found the watering hole most stinky, but Faith made it clear she badly needed a nicotine fix.

“So what’s wrong? Spill.” Buffy stirred her cocktail with its olive stick.

“Okay, but if you tell anyone, I swear to God, I will try and kill you this time for real.” Faith sipped her beer. “No not fighting my hardest because I wanna die subconsciously through guilt.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows unimpressed. Faith did mouth off under stress. Faith did too fight her hardest when the two slayers fought in their teens. But Faith needed help today obviously and Buffy was naturally kind hearted. “I can be Discreet Girl.”

“Well, when Robin and I first got sweaty, he told me two days after, I didn’t rock his world believe it or not. I lacked experience.” Faith lit a cigarette. She dragged in smoke.

“Mm.” Buffy murmured neutrally, encouraging Faith to go on.

“And I thought that must be crap, because believe me, Buffy, I’ve done shit. Anyways, when we got to New York, I found out the truth…” Faith gulped down more beer. “Ya know how I’ve always said every guy’s got his kink?”

“Yeah.” Buffy wondered what the hell Wood’s could be. Threesomes?

“Robin’s a, he’s into…” Faith sucked down more smoke from her cigarette.

“Sounds like?” Buffy prompted.

“Robin’s a plushie. He’s got totally more and more into the scene since we’ve been together.” Faith blurted out, immediately dragging more smoke down her lungs, chasing it with beer, to erase the living horror she was now subjected to daily.

“What the heck’s that?” Buffy clutched the stem of her martini glass puzzled.

“He gets off on dressing up like a stuffed animal. And he wants me to dress up like one too, or he can’t get it up anymore, B.” Faith wanted to die from shame. “I have this squirrel costume in my closet. And lately… I have to squeak when I come or he sulks.”

“Oh my god, like leave him. That’s bent. What a sick deviant!” Buffy gasped in horror. “I never got why you stayed with him for so long anyway. Mommy issues much?”

“I dunno, he seemed on the up and up at first ya know?” Faith sighed, analyzing her attraction to Robin clinically. “I just wanted to hook up with a bona fide hero for once.”

“Well duh! That’s why you date people first, before you like leap into bed with them. Get to know their strengths and weaknesses before they see you all birthday suited.” Buffy explained sensibly. “Like, take me and Oz, I knew him as a friend during high school. And when we met in Paris last year, we rediscovered each other as people for two months, before we hit the sheets for mutual fun times.”

“And Willow’s cool with you and Oz? Because those two were so into each other.” Faith had wanted to ask Buffy this before but couldn’t see how to bring it up without sounding a bitch.

“Yeah, but Will’s into everyone she falls in love with. Aren’t we all? First Oz was the one, then Tara, then Kennedy, and now Illyria when she’s Fred.” Buffy felt annoyed at Willow at present, because Willow forget to bring back Dawn, when Willow went visiting a heavenly dimension last month.

Andrew had to retrieve Dawn using a spell book in the end. Two years passed for Dawn on the heavenly dimension. Dawn came back with one year old twins with white feathered wings, and an over fondness for harp music.

“So Willow doesn’t care.” Buffy caught sight of Faith’s doubtful expression. “Look Oz is the guy for me, Faith. Who did I go out with in the past? Riley, Angel and the Immortal. All tall, I was continually straining my neck macking with them. And they patronized me, because of our vast heighty discrepancy. Who did I relate to best? Spike, a guy my height. Oz is compatible with me. We have similar back grounds, interests and we’re the same age, equals.”

“I dunno, at least Robin is human. No offense, Buffy, but I wanna screw humans.” Faith felt definite about this. Kissing Angel that one time. His spit had been cold. Yuck.

“Well that’s kinda narrow minded of you.” Buffy said primly. “Anyway, listen to yourself. You don’t wanna ‘screw’ anyone, find someone to make love with, Faith. Leave Wood, c’mon. Angel and Wesley arranged to have your prison record magically erased years ago.”

The two slayers sat glumly for a second, remembering the two males tragic end.

“You don’t have to be some boring high school principal’s fiancé. What have you always wanted to do, Faith? You can’t enjoy working in that clothing factory as a machinist doing piece work. You gotta seize life by the throat.” Buffy became enthusiastic, encouraging Faith to make a new start in life.

“Well…” Faith thought it over, flicking ash from her cigarette into the ash tray. “Huh, this sounds real retarded, but I always wanted to run away and join the circus. But then I always wanted a puppy too.”

****

Orlando’s Circus traveled around small town middle America, it boasted elephants, lions, one of the last existing freak shows, trapeze artists, amusement rides, mirror mazes.

Faith found employment working in the Circus, as a bumper car attendant. Listening to the music of her choice all day, sorting out the teenagers when they got too rough, seeing the little kids happy faces, it was a cool job. Unlike the roller coaster attendants, Faith didn’t need to hose out vomit from the bumper car seats that often either. Plus, being strong helped her set up and pull down the bumper car ride stand, whenever the circus arrived or left a town.

Vampires always checked out circuses, for a walking candy floss flavored food source.

Faith would spend her evenings staking easy kill, complacent small town vampires, four nights out of seven on average.

Living in the circus was like living in a small village, everyone knew everyone else’s business.

Faith for instance, got to know all about the Circus Strongman’s bizarre love life. Faith and the Strongman always coincided with their Laundromat visits for some reason.

“Christ, do you wet the bed?!” Faith wrinkled her nose tactlessly at the soiled sheets Groo the Barbarian Prince put into the washing machine.

“No.” Groo shook in washing powder over the top of his bed linen. “I met a young lady. She came back to my trailer. She wished me to urinate on her. I thought it must be a local custom and did not wish to offend in any way.”

“And you get off on that?” Faith folded her warm jeans fresh from the dryer.

“Oh no, but I wish to please my partner always.” Groo inserted the coins in the washing machine ruefully.

One time Faith reading a magazine, waiting for her clothes to finish their spin cycle, was distracted by Groo pulling off his T-shirt. God, the guy had a six pack to die for.

He had weird bruises on his back. Along his spine were small black and yellow circles.

“What happened to your back, bud?” Faith flipped over a magazine page, to continue reading about movie stars mansion renovations. Faith considered recently, painting the interior of her own shabby trailer.

“Oh. I met a young lady. She came back to my trailer. She desired to walk up and down my back in high heel shoes. I thought it must be another local custom and did not wish to offend in any way.” Groo tossed his discarded t-shirt into the washing machine.

“And did that cause you to reach freaking Nirvana?” Faith handed him change for the washing machine.

“No, it was most uncomfortable, but I desired to make her happy.” Groo banged the machine to make it work, leaving a dent in the metal lid.

Faith got talking to Groo about her interior decoration plans. Somehow he wound up helping her buy cans of paint from the local hardware store.

He came back to her trailer the next morning, to help her fix up her abode.

“So what country in Europe are you from pal?” Faith asked him, sweeping the kitchen cupboards a cheerful yellow.

“I’m from Pylea.” Groo carefully painted the battered wooden chairs navy blue.

“What, like the hell dimension?” Faith paused mid brush stroke surprised.

“Why yes, not that many people know of it.” Groo continued painting unflappably. “How do you?”

Faith and Groo found out they knew a lot of the same dead people.

Faith discovered Groo not to be the freak she first thought. The type of chicks who were attracted to Groo because of his leather clad strongman get up, tended to have outré tastes in bed.

Faith and Groo became quite friendly, but Faith didn’t sleep with him. He was a demon and Faith decided to have high sexual standards for once in her new start in life. She didn’t have any one night stands for example, keeping Buffy’s advice in mind.

Faith almost got serious with the guy who ran the shooting gallery, but found out in time he was a speed addict. A turn off.

Many of the carny people on the concessions stands were into speed. It could get very dull working on the stands all day.

Faith found staking vampires enough of a thrill to get her through life in her mid-twenties. Occasionally Groo helped her with patrolling. Groo mostly seemed interested in tracking down local lake monsters, wendigos and sashquatchs’ and killing them. Sometimes Faith assisted him in turn.

***

A new person started to work at the shooting gallery, after the Circus stopped in a small town in Illinois, May 2006. He was an older guy, ex marine. John Winchester kept to himself.

One Monday, a week after John started working for the circus, it poured with rain. Not many people turned up because of the weather. The manager of the bumper cars told Faith to take a long lunch break. Faith walked over to John’s stand, seeking entertainment.

John struggled to hold down plastic covers over the prizes on display, to stop them getting wet. Faith noticed a big, furry, teddy bear and shuddered. Bad flash backs from her time with Robin flooded her mind. Once Robin wanted her to go to a plushie convention with him. A banker dressed as Pooh Bear had come onto her.

“Need a hand?” Faith offered, putting her bad memories aside and focusing on the present.

“Yeah thanks.” John smiled at her. “You’re Faith aren’t you?”

John owned a real nice smile. For an older guy he was smoking hot.

After Faith helped John waterproof his stand, she stayed and chatted to him awhile. John asked her out to have dinner with him that night. Faith having staked all the vamps in town previously, agreed immediately.

“So this a date?” Faith smirked.

“Yeah, guess it is. Although I should be shot, because you’re young enough to be my daughter.” John worried.

“Good thing I’m not then.” Faith left in triumph and went over to see Groo next.

Groo tended a small wriggling bundle, in a box in his show tent. Also having a quiet day, Groo was feeding the creature in the box with chunks of raw meat.

“What the fuck is that thing?” Faith squatted down, to peer at the most ugly baby animal she saw to date in her life.

“It’s a hellhound. They make excellent trackers and are most sweet tempered and loyal, if raised with kindness.” Groo passed her a bloodied cube of flesh. “Here, you feed Scamp.”

The hellhound cub licked at Faith’s fingers. “He’s kinda cute I guess, in his own hairless, hideous way.”

***

Dinner with John took place in an Italian restaurant. The only restaurant in town.

With old fashioned courtesy John pulled Faith’s chair out for her.

After the waiter brought their drinks over, widower John, showed Faith photos of his sons he kept in his wallet. Dean the oldest, was a year older than Faith it turned out.

“Like I’ve said John. I’m not your daughter. Don’t get hung up about the fact I’m twenty five and you’re forty eight. ” Faith flicked her hair back flirtatiously. Her long silver earrings sparkled in the candle light.

Faith dressed with care for her date tonight. The way John kept staring at Faith’s breasts when he thought she wasn’t looking, proved the exorbitant amount of money she paid for her clinging black top back in New York, to be well worth the expenditure.

They discussed their single status. Faith was puzzled as to why John never remarried. She supposed he must still be in love with his dead wife. How obsessed, she’d been dead for over twenty years for Christ’s sake.

But John made her laugh with his tales of the army life. Con men and psychopaths often were charming, Faith reminded herself. But on the whole Faith enjoyed his company and the meal.

During the entrée, Faith carefully raised a forkful of chicken pasta to her lips. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a mucus demon, gliding down the street. Shit, those things were very dangerous to the general public. Now her dinner date would be brought to a premature end.

She put her fork down regretfully, prepared to make up some crap excuse on the spot about why she needed to leave. Groo however unexpectedly appeared on the main road, he proceeded to nimbly behead the demon. Groo spotted Faith through the window of the restaurant, he gave her the thumbs up signal.

Faith grinned at him and waved back cheerfully.

“The Strongman a friend of yours?” John noticed Groo, but missed out on spotting the demon being taken care of.

“Yeah, we’re kinda best buds in a way.” Faith leaned her chin over one hand thoughtfully. “So why are you working at the shooting gallery? Why don’t you set up a garage somewhere in Kansas, like you did before?”

“Uh, just like traveling I guess.” John lifted his wine glass in toast. “To the rain gods, for making us meet today.”

A lot of people in the circus kept secrets. Faith didn’t probe further.

John walked her back to her trailer at the end of their date.

“Well good night then.” Faith didn’t invite John in for coffee, she’d run out, and offering it in the first place could be seen by some morons as a sexual invitation.

“Good night.” John bent to kiss her good bye on the cheek. Faith twisted her head around purposely so their mouths met.

His lips were warm and confident upon her own. They French kissed gently for a few minutes. Feeling his errection through his trousers, pressing against her waist, Faith almost crumbled and asked him inside her trailer. But no! Ms. Faith new start Lehane did not do that type of thing anymore. God damn you, Buffy Summers, with your stupid advice!

Faith entered her trailer alone and got off using her hand alone. Her time in prison made her the most speedy masturbator in the world probably.

And as Woody Allen once famously said, at least solo gratification was having sex with someone you loved. Not that Faith loved herself exactly, but she didn’t hate herself anymore either.

***

The next day Faith and the rest of the circus were busy driving to their new location a small town on the border of Iowa and Illinois.

Once set up, Faith hit the local cemeteries vampire slaying. She found three vampires. She also ran into John Winchester doing the same do gooding task as her.

Finally the vampires were dust, Faith sat on a tombstone, waiting to hear John’s explanation. “So uh, you some kind of fearless vampire hunter John-boy?”

It turned out John was a relentless demon hunter. Looking for the demon that killed his wife. The only good demon was a dead demon in his books.

“Kinda an extreme attitude you got there.” Faith kicked her heels uncomfortably against the headstone of ‘Harvey Drop 1891 to 1918’.

Faith must warn Groo to keep a low profile.

Faith supposed this ceiling demon shit, really accounted for why John never remarried, his fanatical quest for revenge preventing him from finding happiness with another woman.

Again John walked her back to her trailer, he came inside this time and they made out gropingly on Faith’s bed. Feeling a total cocktease, she kicked him out after half an hour, because by her new standards it was still too soon to interlock their genitals.

Faith climaxed once more alone. God it was unsatisfying compared to fucking another human.

***

The next night Faith encountered a type of vampire she’d never seen before. They didn’t explode into dust when killed.

The main group of vampires escaped. Faith felt very on edge, not having the release of the kill.

She couldn’t stand the unrelieved sexual tension between her and John anymore.

Faith pushed John into the back seat of her car. Grabbing her ‘just in case she drank too much in a bar’ condom out of her jacket pocket.

“Fuck me.” She gasped, tearing the condom wrapper open with her teeth.

“Rubbers don’t fit me, aren’t you gals all on the pill?” John grumbled.

“No.” Faith was on the injection while with Robin, but that birth control method only lasted three months. And as for a rubber not fitting Winchester’s dick. Why Faith never heard such crap. Not fit him? Christ, you could fill a condom with a can of Coke and turn it into a water balloon. No one was that huge. And John was distinctly average. Disappointingly so, for someone his height.

Faith rolled the condom on John and sat astride him. God she needed this. She raised and lowered herself six times, getting into it.

John ejaculated and looked very unappealing as he came.

Faith’s jaw dropped open in shock. What the fuck?

Remembering that Faith was now one of the good guys, and not allowed to stab him with a knife for sexually disappointing her this way, Faith shuffled up his body to sit on his face, prepared generously to allow him to get her off orally instead.

John pushed her away. “I’m not really into it.” He found her groin with his hands and rubbed inexpertly with clumsy hands. Faith obviously needed to give the guy a map to locate her clitoris. He finally found her clit with his thumb, his rhythm was steady but he pressed too hard. Like he resented Faith pressuring him to make her come.

Jesus Christ, how sexually lousy and selfish could a person be?

“Forget it, John, this isn’t working.” Faith climbed off him and pulled her jeans and panties back up.

They drove back in silence to the circus.

Faith still feeling frustrated, invited John Winchester back in her trailer for one more chance. After all, had Faith not been given second chances by people?

She even went on the bottom, in case she’d come on too strong for Mr. Old Fashioned, before.

Faith was kinda expecting John to devote lots of time to foreplay, to make up to her the crap performance of before. But after checking she was wet, John got straight down to business. To give him credit, John raised his weight off her with his arms like a gentleman. He thrust into her hard ten times and came.

He fumbled at her clit once more. Faith pushed him away irritated and got off herself.

Faith couldn’t hold back the question. “Do you normally come this freaking fast?”

“Yes.” John muttered, climbing out of bed and pulling on his clothes.

“You can take medication and stuff to slow you down I’ve heard. Get counseling.” Faith thought it only humanitarian to point this out.

John left her trailer without speaking.

Okay, Faith now totally sussed out why John Winchester never remarried. A) Mary Winchester had to be a virgin when they got married, thus never knowing anything different in bed from John’s pathetic performance, so he still carried a torch for her B) John was a misogynist deep down C) No other woman would want to spend her life with such a sexual dud.

Oh god, Buffy was right. If Faith had not slept with John after only three days of knowing him, she would have guessed sooner or later he would turn out to be basically useless in bed.

***

The next day John Winchester took off for parts unknown permanently. The manager of the shooting gallery didn’t care. There were always spare folks around to man the stands.

Faith was profoundly grateful, she’d hopefully never have to lay eyes on Winchester again.

Faith went and saw Groo that evening in his trailer, bringing along with her a bone for his puppy.

Groo was such a nice guy, even if he was a demon.

“Do you like me?” Faith asked him, as she sat on the floor, playing with his hellhound puppy.

“Very much so.” Groo squatted beside her.

“Do you wanna, uh, do you wanna make love?” Faith put her head down suddenly shy. There was a million to one chance he’d say no maybe, and then she’d feel deficient.

Groo kissed her hungrily in response to her question. What a relief, he was clearly keen.

Groo scooped up and carried Faith over to his bed. He produced a selection of three condom brands to choose from. ‘Ribbed for her pleasure’ ‘Chocolate flavored for both parties pleasure’ and ‘Sylk for extra sensual sensation’.

Faith played eneey, meany, miny, moe, ending up with the ribbed condom being inserted inside her, enclosing Groo’s decent sized hard on, after twenty minutes of foreplay.

Groo lasted a very long time. Faith climaxed thrice, due to his sexual prowess. Groo definitely knew where a woman’s clitoris was.

But Robin seemed normal the first time Faith screwed him too.

Groo kissed Faith on the hair, stroking her bare back.

“Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now, Faith? Because I would like that to be the case very much.” Groo gazed at her with hopeful eyes.

‘Um, I’d like to be, but…” A brainwave struck Faith. She got out of bed, scrambling into her clothes. “Hold on, Groo, I’ll be right back.”

Faith sprinted across to her trailer. She flicked frantically through a pile of magazines, she kept stored under her bed. She ripped certain pages out, shoving them quickly into a folder.

She raced back to Groo’s trailer and slammed the door shut.

Groo was still lying naked in bed, watching television. He flicked off the TV with the remote, when she entered his wheeled abode.

“Okay, I want you to tell me what you’d want to do with these items when I show them to you, pal. Your first impulse.” Faith explained. She held up her first picture.

“It’s a sheep. Lamb chops, or I’d shear it.” Groo decided.

Not sodomize it. Good. Faith held up her second picture.

“A ping pong bat. I’d play ping pong with it.” Groo did not hesitate a second.

Again good, he’d didn’t want to smack her ass-cheeks with the bat until they turned beet red.

Faith held up a picture of a teenage girl, in Catholic school uniform.

“Give her directions to the ghost train ride.”

Hand cuffs were shown.

“Find the security guard who dropped them.”

This rocked, as Spike of all creatures pointed out to Faith, once she came out of prison, she found bondage and discipline old hat.

Groo passed the test of word associations with the remaining pictures with flying colors.

Faith hastily removed her clothes and crawled back into bed with him.

“Groo.” Faith told the Champion of Pylea pleased, as he began to make tender love to her once more. “I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship.”

***

All the fun of the circus

2007-03-12T00:15:23Z

removed story because inapropriate for friends page.

Faith in you part eight

2006-10-29T01:28:24Z

Part 1

Dean couldn’t frickin believe he was hoping, actually fricking hoping for the airplane he had boarded to hit turbulence. This was only so he had the chance to talk to Faith. Faith and Dean hadn’t really talked at all the past day.

In a mad rush Faith and Dean had both arrived at Heathrow together. They had sat in silence in the boarding lounge and then boarded their Lufthansa flight. The flight was bound for J.F.K. in New York that evening.

Faith was to attend Kennedy’s funeral and take care of some Council business there. Dean was to fly straight to Wichita and see his brother and father.

They hadn’t mentioned their mutual magical dream. They had not discussed Faith not taking the morning after pill as she had originally intended.

Dean felt pissed off at himself. He was twenty seven for god’s sake, about time he acted like a man. He turned to Faith and slammed down the book she was reading.

“Hey.” He said abruptly to the dark haired girl. “We need to talk about our upcoming unplanned parenthood Faith.”

“Don’t sweat it Winchester.” Faith said coldly. “In the unlikely event you’ve knocked me up. I’ll get rid of it, problem over.”

“Good Catholic girl like you huh?” Dean scoffed disbelievingly. He swallowed tightly as the plane began to move on the runway. “I woulda thought you could lie better than that Faith.”

“I know 'Daddy' brought you up to be responsible for your ‘mistakes’ Dean, but what do you suggest I do?” Faith asked him closing her book. “I’m a slayer, you’re a traveling ghost hunter, demon hunter vampire killer, whatever, you don’t specialise Dean. We’re both likely to die before we’re thirty. And then what for the child huh?” Faith demanded to know.

“I’m gonna give the child up for an open adoption in London. That way if anything spooky starts happening in their life, his rich, kind, stable Mummy and Daddy can quickly contact the Watchers Council.” Faith glared at Dean hostilely. “Junior can contact you when they’re eighteen, if you’re still alive.”

“Don’t I get a say huh?” pleaded Dean hurt. He felt sick in his stomach as the plane took off. Dean was denied the comfort of even holding Faith's hand because they were arguing. “Am I allowed to have a fucking opinion about it at least?”

“Okay what?” Faith allowed him, her body stiff with tension.

“That’s a great idea Faith.” Dean said honestly. He picked at a nail cuticle as Faith sat silently beside him. “I’m not a picket fence kinda guy and never wanted to be. My longest relationship lasted what three months? So how could we make it as a couple? And yeah, you’ll probably die within a couple of years.” He smiled at her ruefully.

“Sorry babe you’re good, but the odds are stacked against you.” Dean stroked Faith’s cheek tenderly, looking unflinchingly into her eyes. He could tell every sentence was like a knife going through her heart. He mercilessly carried on. “And ya know for all your digs at my Dad, your mother was a drunken bitch. She was a shit role model for good parenting skills. How the Hell could you possibly do a good job?” Dean wound up brutally

Faiths eyes filled with tears. He could see her struggling hard not to look affected by his cruel remarks.

“See.” Said Dean leaning forward awkwardly against his seat belt. “That’s how you lie convincingly Faith.” He shook her gently. “We’ll raise this kid together somehow. Everyone's parents are losers why should we be different? And Faith you know I’m falling in love with you, so cut out the bullshit.”

Faith wiped away a tear and blew her nose with a tissue from her handbag. “I’m scared Dean.” She confessed.

“Well that’s just plain sensible of you sweetie.” Dean told her. “I’m totally shitting myself about how the hell we’re gonna manage.” Dean put his arm round her shoulders and pulled her close. “I got offered a job in London by a friend of Rupert’s, full time poltergeist and ghost exorcism.”

Faith snuggled into his chest. “It’s gonna be hard saying goodbye to you in New York tomorrow Dean.”

“Just stay there a week ok?” Dean kissed her head. “I promise I’ll come back to you. I just hafta to hand the colt over to Dad.”

Part 2

Wichita Kansas

Dean walked out of the rented car and knocked on his Dad and brothers motel room unit.

“Hey Dad, Sam it’s me!” He called through the door. The door opened, grinning with welcome John Winchester let him in.

“Do you have it?” John asked him immediately.

“The flight was fine thanks Sir.” Dean replied smoothly. This was typical of Father his obssession. Dean drew the colt out of his pocket and showed him the revolver. “See safe and sound.”

His father relaxed visibly. “Did you enjoy London son?” his father inquired in a genuinely interested voice. “Your mother always wanted to go there.”

“Yeah, it was great Dad.” Dean smiled affectionately at his old man. “Learned a few things, saw a few things, killed a few things.”

“Pretty girl like Faith showing you round, it musta been great.” John prodded his son. “How is she?”

“She’s just great Dad. That’s why I’m going to go back to England with her indefinitely.” Dean explained directly. He had decided to just tell his Dad the facts immediately. That got the hurt for both parties over with quickly. Dean put the electric jug on to boil.

“I was just offered a job over there by a firm that specialises in exorcising poltergeists and ghosts. I can’t do anything else in life but this Dad.” Dean smiled reassuringly at his father. “I wouldn’t want to do anything else, God once you know what’s out there. So I thought it might be kinda nice to get paid for it live in the one place for a while.” Dean got creamer out.

John stood beside him stunned. “So you’re sleeping with her, huh?”

“Yeah and watch what you say about her Dad.” Dean warned getting mugs out of the cupboard. “This job would pay me good money. I’d get to travel some round Europe. It includes good vacation time and I could get you the money to come see us.” Dean shook his head in disbelief. It was hard to get in his head that Faith and he and their baby were going to be an 'us'.

“Aren’t you worried, she’ll distract you from the mission?” John asked quietly.

“Mission. Dad you joined the marines, I never did” Dean put instant coffee sachets, into the mugs. “It could take years before we find that demon again Dad. I told the guys offering me the job, my only issue was I might have to come back help you.”

“I always wanted you to settle down and have a home son.” John sadly told him. “Just not so god damn far away.”

Dean gave him a cup of coffee relieved. “Where’s Sam anyways?” he said changing the subject.

“He went for a walk.” John drank his coffee. “He wants to join me chasing the latest bogeyman all over the damn country, boy’s gonna wind up as obsessed as me.”

“No one can be obsessed as you Dad.” Dean smiled.

Part 3

Christmas day. 2006

John cut the turkey to Bobby and Sam’s requirements. Bobby’s girlfriend poured more wine. The telephone rang.

Booby answered “Hey merry Christmas buddy. Yeah you too, uh huh yeah I’ll put him on.” He held the phone out to John. “It’s your eldest.”

“Dean!” John cried out in pleasure. “How are you son?” he listened closely. “She’s pregnant! Yes that’s wonderful son.” John smiled sincerely. Sam and Bobby listening in could tell John was thrilled at the thought of being a grand father. “No it’s great news Dean, when's it due huh?”

John looked shocked. “He is due in March?” John did rapid calculations in his head. “She’s seven months pregnant and you tell me now?” John gulped back his beer hurt. “Yeah I could see stopping an apocalypse, could keep you both busy son but...”

Sam took the phone gently from his Dad’s hand.

“Merry Christmas bro,” Sam said excitedly. “You don’t get to call me Sammy on a long distance phone call Dean. Yeah I’m still going back to Law school next semester.” Sam smiled warmly at his Dad. “Dad and Bobby are so good I’m just getting in their way. Yeah put Faith on, I know Dad would love to speak to her.”

Sam looked at his Dad in embarrassment as he passed the phone over. “Hey okay Dad, yeah I knew she was pregnant.” Sam admitted.

“I thought so!” his father accused. “What am I, not understanding? Your Mom was four months pregnant with Dean when we got married in ’78 for crap’s sake.”

Part 4

February 2007

Dean sat crying silently in the Hospital chapel. It was weird but he kept wishing his mother would walk in the room. His mom would always tell him things would be be alright.

Everything Faith had ever been through and she got hit by a car driven by a drunk. She had been walking to meet Vi for lunch and then bang. How did things like that happen?

The doctors were preforming an emergency Cesarean now. Faith was so badly injured he wasn’t allowed in. The baby was pronounced unlikely to live. So was Faith.

Rory sitting beside him, patted Dean’s shoulder awkwardly. Dean was grateful for his support but Dean really needed his family. Dean thanked God his Dad was flying over the Atlantic on his way to see them now. He had never needed John more.

11th February 2007

Part 5

“Rupert,” whispered a confused Faith opening her eyes and seeing Giles sitting by her bed. “Have I been in a mystical coma again?” She had had a very strange dream.

“Faith dear, your unconsciousness has been very much of this world.” Giles said relieved. He rang for the nurse. “Do look properly before you cross the road next time Faith.” He reprimanded her. “You gave us all rather a fright.”

Faith was aware something was missing. “Where’s the baby?”

“In intensive care, Dean’s with Jacob now.” Rupert told her gently.

Faith stiffened. “What? He’s named the baby without me!” she croaked outraged.

“The baby had to be christened in a hurry, so he’s called Jacob Liam.” Rupert looked pleased. “I’m his god father.”

Faith sank back exhausted. “Dean remembered I wanted Liam.” She whispered satisfied falling back asleep.

When Faith woke up again Dean was by her side looking like hell. He stroked her face.

“Was frightened I’d lose you huh?" He said gulping back tears. He couldn't see how he would cope. He'd thought he could handle everything but apparently not losing her.

“Yeah right, all your dreams come true you mean pal.” Faith joked weakly. “Who’s with the baby?”

“Dad.” Dean told her laying his head down on her bed. “Thank god Dad’s been here.” Thank god she and their son were alive.

Part 6

March 2007

John Winchester made Faith a bowl of chicken soup and carried it to her. She smiled her thanks. She was almost completely healed. It had been good having the experienced help with the baby. John had been a blue collar hands on Dad when his Dean had been babies. Giving his wife Mary a lot more practical help as he and Mary had both worked two jobs than if he had been some lawyer that had spouted on about women's rights but not actually helped round the house. It was not like Faith's Mom was alive to assist her. Or if the bitch would have been sober enough to help, if she had been

“He looks like he’s an old soul huh?” suggested John looking at Jacob wrapped up in a shawl asleep beside Faith.

“Totally John,” Faith agreed as if she knew some private joke.

Dean came in the door beaming that night. Faith was nursing Jacob on the couch. John was in the shower.

Dean kissed Faith and Jacob. “Hey, my firm wants to open a New York branch. They want me to transfer there in May, with a pay rise and a permanent contract to go with it.” He smiled at her. Dean had been surprised to have been offered a good job like that. His confidence was slowly growing but he often felt out of his league in Europe. “I told them I couldn’t take it of course.”

“Dean take it!” Faith urged him. She was so proud of him. “There’s always Watcher Council business needing to be done in New York. The city is crawling with freaking vampires. A friend of mine Rona is permanently based there.” She looked at Dean lovingly. “You were prepared to give me eighteen months in London. I’ll give you eighteenth months in New York.”

“Do you wanna get married here with your friends before we go?” Dean suggested to her. He crossed his fingers she'd agree.

“Is that a lame ass proposal?” Faith asked Dean, swapping Jacob to her other breast.

“Yeah I wasn’t wasting money on an engagement ring, unless I knew the answer was gonna be yes.” Dean told her. This wasn't looking hopeful.

“Good because I don’t wanna get married.” Faith told him seriously. “Not to you not to anyone.”

Faith in you part eight

2006-10-29T01:13:04Z

Chapter Eight Dream a little Dream

Part 1

Dean woke up in the dawns light. Faith was tossing about beside him in bed. He smirked gently as he heard her talking in her sleep.

“No way Angel,” Faith laughed, huskily. She put on a stern expression. “I’ve got 72 hours man.”

Faith twitched her nose in her sleep, cutely sceptical. “Lots of guys say I love you then.” She flinched again “Terrible mother,” she muttered. “There’s no way Mr Wheatbelt is a major player in an apocalypse.”

Dean put his hand on her shoulder and shook her quickly. “Faith, wake up sweetheart.”

Faith opened her eyes staring at him startled then glanced disorientated around the room they were had slept in.

“Hey, about last night Dean” Faith said to him urgently.

“Which bit huh?” Dean drew her close with his arm. The back of her head was to his face, that way he didn’t have to look at her if she asked him about him saying, ‘I love you’ to her.

“You didn’t wear a condom, Winchester.” Faith stated flatly staring at the wall. “I’m gonna have to get hold of the morning after pill today. Don’t let me forget.”

Dean couldn’t believe he hadn’t even thought about contraception last night. His Dad had been firm about insisting right from the start of Dean entering high school that no unwanted Winchesters came into the world. It must have been the drug.

Faith was beginning to mean more to Dean than any girl he’d ever met before. Great, and now she probably thought he was an undisciplined jerk taking advantage of her grief. How could he have forgotten to pull on a rubber? He stared unseeingly at the marks on Faith’s body from fighting last night. There was something wrong about them. He realised the weirdness was that they were healing faster than humanly possible.

Dean didn't like the way Faith was giving him the cold shoulder on the way back to Rupert's house. Dean stopped her in the street and spun her round. "Hey I'm sorry, okay Faith? I'll never let it happen again. I was high."

Faith scowled at him. "You aren't the one who has to feel nauseous and get their period a week early lover."

Dean bit his tongue wisely. In fairness he wanted to tell her that as she had obviously taken it before what was her problem this time? Gut instinct told him this was a bad path to take.

Rupert’s house seemed to have a small army of crying young women occupying it. Willow was staying at Rupert’s for the time being and was out with him. Dealing with undertakers, arranging to get Kennedy’s body shipped back to the States was top priority for Willow right now.

Dean became involved in speaking in Spanish to one of Kennedy’s relatives on the phone. He had to explain the funeral arrangements seeing he was the only one in the house at the time that could speak Mexican Spanish.

Dean saw Faith slip out at eleven to buy some more groceries. Putting his hand over the phone he reminded her to get the morning after pill.

Faith blew him a forgiving kiss. “Not likely to forget Stud.” She waltzed out the door into the spring sunshine.

Part 2

“Where’s Faith mate?” Rory inquired puzzled, coming into the kitchen. Like a well muscled male Cinderella Dean was washing yet more tea and coffee cups. “We need food.”

Dean looked at the kitchen clock it was three o’clock. Faith had left for the shops in Rupert’s car at eleven.

The two men tried ringing her mobile without success. Dean wondered if she was having trouble finding emeregency contraception at a pharmacy. Uncertain as he was to how things worked here Dean was still positive it couldn't take that long.

By four o’clock everyone was worried about Faith's whereabouts. Those in the know had the added stress of also trying to keep her disappearance from Willow.

Robin had now arrived he was in the kitchen his arm round his partner Fiona.

“She mentioned a stalker.” Dean commented. “She thought it was a vampire.”

“Damn, she mentioned a stalker to me too.” Robin added concerned. “I thought she was imagining it.”

“I rang the local hospitals.” said Rory, sighing with frustration. “Nothing as mundane as a car crash.”

“Hey, car crashes aren’t as mundane as you would think dude.” Dean said annoyed. “No sign of Rupert’s car? Vi you checked the mall's parking lot huh?”

“Clean as a whistle.” Vi sighed, chewing her nails with anxiety. “Maybe it was the werewolves? They’re out for slayer blood. There was a bomb threat at the Watchers Academy today.”

“A strange looking guy came up to me in the bar last night, dissing on her.” Dean explained the incident to the others.

Part 3

By six everyone involved trying to find Faith was over at Wood's house. Rory tried scrying for her using a gold earring. Faith had left the item at Wood's house one night after a party. Rory had no success.

“Whoever’s has got her is blocking.” He explained. He looked at the anxious gathering in the room. “I could try using one of you to find her, it’s a type of dream spell.” Rory put his fingers together. He was always excited at the opportunity to try a new spell. “Slight risks involved for me,the person going under and Faith, but time is running out here mates.”

“I’ll do it.” Dean, Wood and Vi volunteered simultaneously.

Rory closed his eyes, tiredly. “Which one of you should it be Vi?”

Vi paused for only a second to point at Dean. “Him, don’t know why.”

Part 4

Dean closed his eyes and tried to relax. Slowly the mystical drug Rory gave him, took effect. No, not a drug, a potion. Huh, Rory came off more as a drug dealer than a wizard or whatever, more and more to Dean. He could see why Faith didn’t want to be with Rory. Yet Dean still unfortunately couldn’t see a good reason why Faith would want to be with Dean.

Dean could hear Rory counting backwards. The next thing Dean knew, he was lying in a strange bed, in a strange room. It was obviously a woman’s bedroom belonging to a chick who had no housekeeping skills.

He rose from the bed and left the bedroom, entering a living room. A major dump, the living room looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in months. A vampire was sitting in an easy chair watching television. The vamp didn’t seem to see Dean.

“I’m in here Dean.” Dean heard Faith call to him from another room.

Dean went into what was obviously a child’s bedroom. Faith was dressed in eighteenth century clothes lying on a single bed with her head in a dark haired man’s lap. The tall man was also dressed in eighteenth century clothes and was holding a my little pony and a Barbie.

This alone would have convinced Dean he was in a mystical trance if nothing else.

“I told you he’d come for you Faith.” The dark haired man told her, putting the toys down and stroking her hair fondly. “He’s falling in love with you.”

Faith sat up tiredly. Dean could see a vampire bite neck on her neck. “Hey Dean, this is Angel he’s a ghost. He was a good friend of mine.”

Dean shook Angel’s hand instead of exorcising him automatically. This was all a magic dream after all.

“Yeah, I’ve come to rescue you once we have the address of where you are Faith.” Dean looked around interested and appalled at the same time. “This is your place when you were a kid huh?”

“Yeah, beat aint it?” Faith was speaking in a much thicker accent than she normally did. Dean could see out the frayed net curtains on the window, they were in an Eastern seaboard city in Fall.

“You’re from Boston, I never woulda picked it.” Dean said dreamily. He was in a dream, he caught himself. “Where are you now in London?”

“I’ll go check it owt Dean, stay here.” Faith shimmered and turned into a little girl in a cheap second hand confirmation dress. “The sick fuck will love this.” She walked out of the room.

“It’s very important Faith has the baby.” Angel implored Dean urgently turning to him. “Your child will be a major player in an apocalypse coming in thirty years time.”

“Yeah well, she’s not pregnant yet.” Dean said confused. “That’s why she had that seventy two hour window of opportunity to get emergency contraception.”

“Faith hasn’t taken anything yet. She’s going to conceive this morning and then I won’t be able to help her anymore.” Angel said shimmering into twenty first century clothes.

They heard screams and whimpers coming from the living room. Angel put his hand on Dean’s arm. “Let her handle it.”

Dean gazed round the room in contempt forcing himself to remain there. “This place is a bona fide dump.” He stated to Angel.

Faith entered the bedroom, still appearing to be a seven year old with a bruised face and more bite marks on her neck. She hopped into Angel’s lap so he could cuddle her. Faith looked at Dean. “I’m in Hackney under the Rio Cinema. Get me the Hell out of here Dean. I’m going to die of blood loss in a couple a days if Charlie keeps it up. He’s called Charlie.”

Dean kissed the child Faith on the forehead. “Hang on sweetheart.” He told her walking out of the room.

The vampire was watching television again and Dean could see it was showing scenes of the child Faith being slapped and kicked by what looked to be a drunken, red haired woman.

Dean searched round for an exit, he opened the front door and almost bumped into a beautiful girl in her mid twenties. The woman looked similar to Faith the only difference being she had ginger hair and green eyes. The woman had a bottle of brandy in a paper bag. They walked through each other and Dean woke up on Woods sofa.

Part 5

Dean spat out the directions to Rory. Feeling woozy Dean had to turn his head to vomit in the bucket Woods held ready for him.

Dean sank into sleep again, still dreaming. He was remembering back to the night his mother died. His mind kept repeating that on a loop until he was screaming. He woke to Fiona, Woods partner slapping him with her good arm to get him to wake up.

Dean shook and vomited again. “Where are the others?” he asked.

“Getting Faith” Fiona said shortly. “Try and stay awake as much as you can, from now on.”

Dean felt his eyes drooping, Fiona pushed him off the couch so he landed on the floor hard. “I said, stay awake lad.”

“What’s the time?” asked Dean, trying to stand up.

“About one am.” said Fiona. The phone rang and she answered it quickly. Her face broke into a smile. She turned to Dean. “They’re all safe.” Fiona said thankfully. “Now go and stand in the shower.”

The effects of the potion Dean took didn’t wear off properly till dawn. At one stage he was hallucinating standing up. It was four am, Dean was standing in Robin’s kitchen drinking a glass of water. The next moment he was standing on a hill overlooking a pebbled beach with Faith and Angel again.

Faith and Angel were once more in eighteenth century dress. Angel kissed Faiths hand. “It’s goodbye, my darling girl.” Angel told her sadly.

Faith blinked away unshed tears and pulled him down for a soulful kiss.

“Hey” she told Angel, inexplicably to Dean. “It was okay for Luke and Leia.”

Dean wondered why he was frozen to the spot. He saw Angel suddenly not be there and Faith touch her stomach and turn to Dean smiling.

Dean started awake as Vi slapped him with slayer strength. “Jesus, Vi.” Dean protested as flinched in pain.

“Sorry Dean but you have to stay awake.” Vi apologised “Faith has still got Orpheus in her system and you don’t want to get your dreams interconnected again.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked her, gulping down the water.

“You don’t want to share your intimate lives with each other do you?” Vi told him uncomfortably. “Trust me, it can get messy.”

Dean went into the bedroom,where Faith was sleeping, Rory keeping watch over her. Dean stood in the doorway and suddenly was in Faith’s childhood home again.

Faith was standing by the kitchen sink washing dishes in her catholic school uniform, while her mother screamed at her in a drunken rage.

The red headed woman had spittle flying out of her mouth “You’re a little dirty tramp, stealing my boyfriend!”

Faith turned round angrily. “Well it takes one to know one, Mom.”

Faith’s mother slapped her on the face hard. Faith spotted Dean.

“Why are you here Winchester? Thanks for rescuing me man, now get outta my head.” Faith told him sternly putting a tea towel over the dishes. "You think I want you to see this?"

Faith’s mother turned round too and noticed him. She turned back to Faith vengefully. “He knocked you up, some amateur demon hunter with issues with his father?”

“Hey lady!” said Dean angrily “I don’t have issues with my Dad.”

Faith’s mother continued slapping her brutally. “He’ll leave you Faithie, just like your no good Dad did to me.” Faith’s mother screamed drunkenly at her daughter. “Who’d want a dumb little tramp like you? You’re a no good nothing just like your worthless father.”

“Excuse Ma'am,” Dean interrupted. “I would never walk out on Faith. My father brought me up to be responsible for my mistakes.”

Dean frowned at Faith’s mother. “Charming as you are Ma'am, I don’t think you belong in Faith’s head anymore.”

The woman and the room disappeared and Faith and Dean were back on the hill by the sea. Dean looked around. “Where the hell is this place anyhow?”

“Angel told me it’s in Ireland.” Faith was wearing her long green hooped dress again. “I’ve never been here in real life. It's beautiful huh? My ancestors come from here. So will our descendants.”

Dean was jerked awake by Rory shaking him.

Faith shuddered in the bed, then sat up carefully, eyes open. She looked round her rapidly scanning the room for danger and then visibly relaxed.

“I’m wicked thirsty.” Faith mentioned to Rory “Can I have a beer dude?”

AN: Biology 101. Sperm can survive for up to seven days inside a woman. So a woman can release an egg three days after sex and then get pregnant, not on the night she had actually had sex, get it?

Faith in You Part Seven

2006-10-29T01:02:42Z

Chapter Seven Pretty when you cry

Dean gulped his beer thirstily, feeling jaded by life. Dean was sitting in a corner of the bar Rory had taken them to. Dean was wondering what the hell kind of place this was? A pub that let people in with werewolf blood splashed on their jeans obviously.

Faith and Rory were dancing up a storm on the dance floor. Slam dancing in front of the band playing live on the stage. Dean was minding their drinks. Texting back and forth to Sam his evening’s adventures.

‘2 N 10Z 4 ME BRO’ Sam had sent back to Dean’s amusement. A scraping chair noise made Dean look up. Scowling a young blonde man took without asking one of the seats at their table.

“Seat’s taken sorry pal,” Dean said automatically, poised to send his next message to Sam.

“I’ll move before your slayer bitch girlfriend gets here.” The guy said in a Germanic accent. “Did you know she’s a slut, a traitor, a murderer of an unarmed human? Did you know she went to prison for it? The slayer never served her sentence. Her witch friend helped her fake her own death.”

“Did you know she’s applying for British citizenship, at the moment? Her favourite band at the moment is 'The Killers'.” Dean offered in return, smiling sarcastically “Why are you telling me the old stuff?”

“Consider me a friend.” The guy said, his eyes looked like an animals for a second. The man got up and left. 'Okay' Dean thought.

Faith and Rory came back. “Who was that guy?” Faith said dropping in her chair and gulping back beer.

Dean tried out sounding like Rory, “Buggered if I know, darling.”

Rory went off to get another jug of beer.

“He must have said something D.” Faith nagged. She opened her pack of Morley’s and lit up.

“You’re a slut, you murdered someone, Willow helped you get out of doing the time for it, by faking your death and oh yeah, you’re a traitor.” Dean sipped his beer. “Fucked huh? Most people just want change for the slot machine.”

Faith took a long drag and scrutinised him behind her protective veil of smoke. “Do you believe it of me?”

Dean realised he had to choose his next words carefully if he ever wanted to be with her again.

“Yeah, all except you being a traitor, I could never see that in the woman you are now huh? And what’s a slut anyways? Just a girl who’s had one more partner than the guy who’s pissed off at her. Hey I’ve faked my own death too. Kinda goes with the territory in our line of work.”

Faith looked at him in a way Dean couldn’t interpret. Dean knew that Rory’s words of advice had been pounding in his head all evening. “Fuck her in the club bog, if you have to.” But the queue for the women’s restrooms was going out the door.

So Dean leaned forward trying out kissing her harshly instead. Desperately trying to get his and her mind off Kennedy’s death. Faith tasted of cigarettes and beer and she wrapped her arms round his neck like a drowning woman.

“Get a room you two.” Rory said cheerfully, plonking three beer jugs in front of them. A young woman from Texas was with him whom Dean was introduced to as Vi. It turned out she was another slayer who had known Kennedy.

Faith and Vi took to the dance floor once more making every heterosexual male in the room turn their heads. Dean gazed over at them performing basically clothed sex on each other, it made the blood in his brain flow straight to his dick.

“Vi’s just come back from taking out a nest of vampires in Brixton, she’s hyped as well.” Rory said rolling a strange looking herb in cigarette papers. “Want one mate, it’s legal?”

Dean nodded he smoked the literal ‘magic weed,’ and found the pub suddenly seemed a more pleasant place, and his cares were far away.

Rory cast a little protection spell over their drinks and table, persuading Dean to join the girls on the dance floor with him.

Dean put his hands on Faiths hips dancing along with her. He’d normally be stiff and self conscious or so drunk he couldn’t stand up properly let alone dance. This evening whatever he was on that Rory had given him, had blessed him with rhythm. He felt Faith writhe in front of him in time to the music. Dean sang along with her and everyone else on the dance floor to the songs chorus.

He saw Rory slide his hand under Vi’s top and wink at him. Vi turned round and kissed Rory open mouthed with lust. He felt Faith’s voice in his ear, but couldn’t hear what she was saying. He led her through the crowd to an outside balcony.

“Sorry what?” he yelled at her, as if far away.

“I said, did it turn you on? Watching them kiss like that.” Faith said in a normal voice lighting a cigarette.

“Only if it had been you and her sweetheart” Dean smirked, mesmerised by the glowing tip of her cigarette.

“I don’t do threesomes.” Faith confessed wryly “Call me insecure, call me paranoid, I’d worry the other two wouldn’t like me.”

“Yeah, when there are three people someone always feels left out.” Dean said thinking of how great it could be when it was just him and his brother, or him and his Dad. Then thought of fights that occurred when the three Winchesters were in the same house.

“I think I’m falling in love with you Faith.” he told her seriously. A wave of nausea overcame him, and he joined two other people throwing up over the balcony.

Faith leaned over the balcony finishing her cigarette. Peering at him in concern, “Did you smoke anything that asshole Rory offered you?”

“Yeah,” Dean heaved again, his stomach muscles protesting. His eyes streamed from the smoke from Faith’s cigarette drifting in his face. He hung over the balcony recovering and could hear a guy hitting on Faith above his head.

“I’m with him lover seriously.” Faith sparkled, at some Aussie back packer he couldn’t see above his head.

“Faith darl, if you were me girlfriend, I wouldn’t leave you all neglected like he’s doin’ if you get me drift yeah?” He heard the guy say.

Dean pulled himself together and stood upright. “She’s with me dude thanks for your concern.”
He put his arm round Faith waist and dragged her back inside. He felt a second wave of euphoria hit him. Flooded with happy adreline he led her back on the dance floor.

Dean wasn’t aware that time had passed until Rory tapped him on the shoulder mouthing ‘come home with us’ at him. Dean sat in the backseat of the cab, squashed enjoyably between Faith and Vi.

He vaguely wondered if Rory was going to offer him the magical equivalent of cocaine next back at his flat. Dean was in that frame of mind to try it out if so. Rory’s flat was a pigsty but to Dean’s body’s relief no further drugs were offered. With slayer strength Vi dragged Rory off to the bedroom.

Dean was led by Faith to the spare bedroom which was thankfully clean. He sank on the bed, feeling the room spin. Faith unzipped her black velvet mini dress and stood in front of him in red bra and panties, expectantly.

Dean pulled her down on top of him and kissed her softly. He could feel her frustration as he was tender and considerate in his appreciation of her body. She clawed at his back desperately. Dean could hardly feel it. He wondered it Rory had offered him the drug out of spite.

“Look Faith I’m sorry,” Dean told her holding her still. “I can’t give you what you need tonight. I don't even know if I can get it up after taking that drug. You want me to treat you like shit right? So you can forget about Kennedy for a minute. I can’t do it okay? I love you Faith and I’m real sorry your friend died.”

Faith got out of bed and punched a hole in the wall. Dean looked at it abstractedly, the pattern was kinda symmetrical.

Faith looked at him furiously. Dean went over to her and hugged her. “You don’t have to get punished to feel sad Faith you’re not bad.”

‘Fuck Dean are you a shrink now is that it?” Faith said exasperated and frustrated. “I’m going to the living room to drink until I pass out, don't wait up.”

“No!” warned Dean annoyed. Knowing exactly where that would lead. “You’ll just stagger out of the house, halfway through your getting wasted self pity session looking for a fight, looking to get laid.”

“What’s that to you Dean pal?” Faith snapped at him in frustrated hatred, pulling her dress half back on.

“I love you bitch and I’ll slit your throat if you screw anyone but me.” Dean and Faith looked at each other delighted. Dean walked over and raked his nails down Faith’s bare back experimentally so it drew blood.

“We’re in business babe.” Dean told her triumphantly. He walked her back against the wall and pushed her panties aside thrusting into her roughly. He put his hand over her mouth and slowly moved in and out of her, while cruelly biting her neck over her scar. He thrust over and over again harder than he had before with any woman, knowing Faith could take it, Faith started to moan gutturally as she came. The sound triggered Dean’s own release. Faith burst into tears on his shoulder.

Dean laid her back down on the bed holding her in a firm embrace. Faith sobbed her heart out in his arms.

“Christ, Faith.” Dean said kissing her forehead in despair. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

Faith in you Part 6

2006-10-28T16:09:37Z

Chapter 6 Werewolves of London

AN:Is any one that faint hearted they need to be warned that someone from the Buffy universe is about to be bumped off in this chapter? Oh well if you are, you’ve been warned.

Part 1

“It’s all good here Dad, relax huh?” Dean told his father on the phone. “Yeah, I’m still coming back next week.” Dean rolled his eyes at Faith. “Yeah, with the colt Dad.”

Dean’s face changed expression. “How’s Sam put him on? Dude! How are you feeling?”

Faith set down the breakfast tray beside him. Dean’s eyes widened at the sight. Sausages, mushrooms, poached eggs grilled tomatoes, fried bread. Faith crunched on some toast.

“I’m about to have a cooked English breakfast Sam.” Dean said. “Contrary to what I stupidly believed, the food is great over here. Yeah Faith’s with me. That would be telling Sammy. No don’t put Dad back on. Take care bro, see you next week.”

“The better looking Winchesters' okay?” Faith said putting her hand over her mouth, so she didn’t spray crumbs on him.

‘Yeah. Hey isn’t it kinda rude, us eating up here when Rupert cooked all this for us?” Dean asked.

“Normally yeah,” Faith said. “But Willow’s just turned up in tears, so I took our brunch up here.” She speared a mushroom with an expression of bliss.

“You just love this country don’t ya?” Dean asked her amused.

“What’s not to love?” said Faith. “All my Stateside memories are not really the scrapbooking kind. Here I’ve got real friends, I get a decent salary for saving the world from evil, and London rocks Dean, ya gotta admit.”

Dean nodded in agreement with her. The past two days had been great, visiting and meeting Europeans who been demon hunters for years and got paid for it. He realised the Winchester family could be real players in this game, and the first thing they needed was an accountant. Travel surely broadened the mind.

He went for a game of squash with Rory that afternoon and talked over the history of the Wyndham Pryce dynasty. Faith arrived to pick both of them up, a sullen young American woman in her tow.

Kennedy was Willow’s partner Dean remembered. She’d come to enlist their help, tracking down a pack of werewolves, that were not giving up their flesh eating ways.

“So we’re taking them all out.” Kennedy explained to Dean and Rory. “The person who actually owns the house they’re squatting in, will give us lots of happy money to get rid of them. "Then Tengo tanto dinero que no sé qué hacer con él.” She beamed at Rory and Dean. “We need you guys to keep loading the silver arrows on the crossbow.

“Oh, Kennedy mate, that’s so archaic,” Rory protested to her. “Why not use a rifle?”

“Because there are two new slayers in the car, outside the club, it’ll be good practice for them.” Kennedy informed him sharply.

“It’s gonna be fucking suicide.” Faith told her. “That’s why I’m coming too Kennedy.” Faith shot a look at Dean. “Take a rifle Dean if you want to come with, that is.”

Dean smiled at her. “Yeah, shooting wolves gone bad, sounds great.” He pulled two theatre tickets out of his pocket. “It’ll be tough missing out on 'Miss Saigon.'”

Faith leaned over and kissed him affectionately. “Liar, you never wanted to see a West End show.”

“Babe I did.” Dean said realising to his own surprise, that he actually had wanted to see it with her. It would have been a nice touristy thing to do. They could have talked about it afterwards over a glass of wine.

He now got why Faith read magazines and papers so much. There had to be more to his life than sending creatures back to hell every day, otherwise he was just in hell right along with them.

He supposed killing werewolves in an English manor or something, was the only kind of tourist experience he was ever destined for. He held Faith close for a second ,thankful Rory was completely unjealous.

“Well I’m going back to my place first and kitting up.” Rory informed them. “I’m buggered if I’m going into their little cess pit without silver chainmesh on. You can have whatever you want too Dean mate. You don’t want the bloody chicks’ slayer stuff, probably includes silver bloody push up bras.”

Faith chortled and Kennedy glared at the unrepentant Rory.

Part 2

Feeling like he was a walk on extra in the 'Kingdom of Heaven'. Dean couldn’t believe they were approaching a large country house on the outskirts of London at sunset. The mansion was crammed with werewolves from all accounts.

Dean looked at the stupid outfits, all the slayers had on, Faith included, who tonight was wearing her tartan kilt and a red cashmere sweater for God’s sake. What kind of protection was that, for a chick against a pack of werewolves?

Kennedy unlocked the French doors, using a key given to her by the houses rightful owner. Kennedy’s cross bow was at the ready, and she shot the first biped that crossed her path. The teenage boy went down screaming. Dean saw by the way the kids features changed backwards and forwards from wolf to human, in his death throes that he was indeed a werewolf.

Dean saw the Slayerettes WeiWei and Yumi flinch, and felt sorry for them. It was always bad watching humanoid creatures die when you were young. Christ knows Dean knew that. Dean had been witnessing good times like this, since he was nine.

Dean suspected tonight was going to be different, even for him and not in a good way.

Rory cocked his rifle and blew away a sweet grandmotherly type, coming down the stairs.

“Watch the walls!” Kennedy snapped. “We get an extra bonus, if the house doesn't need any repairs after we finish.”

Dean cracked up, the bitch was unbelievable. “Kennedy you can’t make a frickin omelette without breaking eggs, ya know?”

“Like you’d know how to cook anything, that doesn’t have 'microwave on high for three minutes' written on the packet” Kennedy sneered, shooting her crossbow expertly at a man running towards her. The guy had been changing shape and he howled, thrashing and changing shape in and out as he died noisily.

The sun’s rays were setting, and grunts and groans were heard coming from around the house. The two slayerettes looked like they were going to wet themselves.

Two figures came behind them in the doorway, and Kennedy spun round to shoot. Fortunately an even quicker Faith blocked her.

Faith cried out. “No! It’s Robin and Fiona I asked them to come by.”

Kennedy looked at Faith pissed off. “Slayers don’t need watchers holding their hand anymore.”

“The under eighteen year olds do,” Snapped Faith. “Argue about it later with me, okay Ken?”

Woods and his partner were also dressed in light silver chain mail. Dean was pleased to see they looked just as ridiculous, as him and Rory. They were carrying rifles.

“Come on Kennedy mate. The more the merrier!” Rory yelled, picking off a werewolf coming full tilt down the stairs. Rory only winged the werewolf unfortunately. Maddened with anger it leapt into the room. Faith brought down a scythe, of all things that she’d brought with her, swung round and chopped the creatures head off. It instantly reverted to being a naked, beheaded middle aged man.

And so began one of the more messy, gory nights of Dean’s demon hunting career. It was intriguing for him, because he’d never fought in such a big group before. It was great having some one watch your back. A minus of killing such a large group of monsters, was that the floor was awash with blood and it was getting slippery. What was really surprising to Dean was he could see all the slayers were getting off on it. Even the two young girls looked like they were enjoying the action, like they were good old boys in some bar room brawl.

It was turning into a werewolf massacre, as Dean and his companions picked lupines off one by one, as they came in through the stairs. The tables turned on the humans, as six werewolves burst in through the French doors.

“Fuck,” Said Kennedy firing her crossbow “Those bastards broke the door hinges.”

Dean was grateful for the chain mail now, as a werewolf bit his arm bruising it fiercely but not breaking the skin. Dean used the cross bow bolt he had sneered at previously (as something out of the dark ages) to pierce the werewolf’s eye. Skewering his brain. To his shock Dean saw he had just killed a pregnant woman. Now that was frickin' disturbing, but fortunately his arm hurt too much to care about it at present.

One of the Slayerettes Yumi, screamed as a wolf bit her leg. Dean shot the wolf through with his rifle. Unfortunately he had left the Colt with Willow, who was mass producing bullets and attempting to copy it, so far without success. Maddened the werewolf turned on Dean, but Woods took it out, with a sword.

Dean glimpsed Faith fighting like a maniac, Rory shooting up the stairs for dear life, and he saw Kennedy get taken down by two werewolves.

Kennedy stood no chance, they had taken her off guard and as one. He watched as the alpha male plunged his canines into Kennedy’s neck and ripped her throat out. She was shaken like a rag doll. Kennedy’s blood sprayed round the room, and seemed to inflame the remaining werewolves even more.

Faith fought her way to Kennedy's attackers, like a woman possessed. Cutting the two werewolves’ heads off with one stroke of her scythe.

For another hellish thirty minutes, everyone fought on, until every single werewolf was dead.

They checked the house, leaving Fiona standing guard over Kennedy’s body and protecting the wounded Yumi.

Part 3

Faith came off the phone from Giles. “Thank god, he’s going to tell Willow tonight.” She slipped her cell phone in her pocket and swayed with emotion.

Dean went to touch her but she shrugged him off angrily.

Rory came back with the body count. “Fifty-two. Must have been at least two packs gathered. No children present, thank god. Youngest must have been fifteen.”

“Well what a great night’s work then.” said Faith as she looked at the beheaded corpses piled at her feet. “I feel fucking ace don’t you?” she snapped at the two sobbing slayerettes. “Kennedy was stupid and you’re wicked lucky you aren’t both dead too, because she just wanted it to be the four of us with no back up, and that’s why she never made it to twenty five.”

“Faith please,” Robin said to his ex-lover curtly, whilst comforting the girls.

“Come on.” Faith said to Rory and Dean in a complete change of tone. ‘We’re done here. Let’s get go dancing.”

“Faith, we’re covered in blood.” Dean reasoned with her shocked.

“I brought a change of clothes, and you guys can just take off the chain mail.” Faith laughed bitterly.

Rory pulled Dean aside. “Look mate, just fuck Faith as soon as possible, do it in the club bog if you have to. It’s the only way she’ll come down.” Rory looked after her worriedly. “She needs to have a bloody outlet. She was very fond of Kennedy they’ve only been falling out the last couple of months.”

Dean wondered how the rest of this terrible night was going to play out. He now understood why Faith was obsessed by making it to twenty five. He had heard Kennedy was the third oldest slayer alive, at the ripe age of twenty three. Except now that snaky, clever girl wasn’t alive anymore.

Faith in You Part 5

2006-10-28T15:54:39Z

Killing Moon
Part 1

Faith and Dean let themselves in the front door of Giles town house. Lustfully they grinned at each other wickedly. Dean hooked his fingers in her jacket and pulled her forward, bending his head down slowly to press his lips down firmly on hers. They kissed each other repeatedly, opening their mouths, so they could taste and touch the other with their tongues.

This was a mistake sadly, seeing that Faith had been smoking in the pub mid-afternoon, and Dean had tried a ploughman’s lunch, which included pickled onion. They each tasted this on each other pausing disconcerted in their exploration.

They pulled gently apart, looked at each other, each made a joke face and simultaneously burst out laughing.

Faith pulled him into the kitchen. “Come on let’s have coffee and watch the news D.huh? I never like having sex with someone new if we’re going to kill something. Not until after I’ve killed the something.”

Dean let himself be led happily. “So we’re gonna have sex tonight.” He said kissing her neck and smelling the smoke in her hair.

“Yeah, if you want to,” Faith shrugged casually making coffee.

“Oh I want to sweetheart.” Dean swooped forward, turning her round kissing her warm mouth again. He still had a raging hard on and she still tasted pretty good. He’d lick any ashtray that felt like her.

Part 2

“Hampstead Heath, is three Kilometres of parkland.” Faith told Dean on the tube. “’London’s lungs’ plus the West Heath is a well known as a gay pick up area so ecologically kinda a feeding ground for vampires. Full moon tonight, so don’t kill any werewolves.”

Dean regarded her in amazement. “What, you’re kiddin’ me?”

“There’s a werewolf tracking team out there tonight Dean.” Faith informed him. “We’ll meet up with them, and they’ll give you a tranq’ dart.”

Dean and Faith were still arguing about the Watchers Council’s policy on werewolves when they got off the train.

Briskly the pair walked up to the park. There to rendezvouse with a group of twelve pubescent girls (new slayers apparently) of all nationalities. The teenagers were armed with tranquilliser guns, led by an American in his early thirties, whom Faith introduced as Robin Woods.

Dean looked at the guy with interest. Woods and Faith were on excellent terms with each other it seemed. Dean was given a tranquilliser gun himself.

Woods looked at Dean in amusement. “Are you going to use yourself as bait for the vamps?”

“Why not.” Said Dean easily, aware of the admiring looks and giggles the teenage girls were directing his way. ”I don’t give a rat’s ass what a vampire thinks of me, just as long as it gets killed.”

Robin looked impressed. “Good attitude Winchester, we could do with more of it round here.” He walked off with his group of charges “Happy hunting people.”

“So why did you break up with that guy?” Dean asked Faith before he could stop himself.

“I didn’t. Robin broke up with me.” Faith smirked at Dean surprised expression.

Faith and Dean crawled over some bushes. “Robin’s an incredible guy, and I really liked him, but we weren’t in love exactly. Turns out he was in love with this Scottish chick, he’d met here ten years ago.” Faith smirked at Dean. “I could never stand in the way of true love, especially never having had experienced it myself.”

Faith pointed out a good spot for Dean to wait for a gay pick up. She turned round and put her hand down Dean’s t-shirt.

“Can’t wait huh?” Dean teased her.

“I’m checking you're wearing a cross retard.” Faith laughed. She pulled it out and looked at it. “Any significance to you?”

“Nah, just a plain silver cross” Dean put it back in and walked down to lean seductively against a lamppost on the foot path.

Dean had to politely repel five attempted pick ups by genuinely gay men looking for a night of love, fend off a mugger, point out to a lost new slayer where the others in her party were, and avoid getting moved on by two suspicious police constables. Finally two male vampires showed up at eleven fifteen.

He didn’t have time to get the colt out before they were on him. They were clearly starving. One vampire jerked backwards, as the crucifix burned his mouth. The vampire continued trying to feast on Dean’s neck. Dean was finally able to get the gun free and shoot that vampire with the colt. The first round had one of Willow’s new bullets in it, as an experiment.

A rewarding experiment indeed as the vampire exploded into dust. The second vampire looked up from sucking the blood out of Dean’s wrist. On a roll Dean shot it in the head with one of the recovered bullets, it too rewardingly exploded into dust.

Faith dashed down the slope and helped him up “Dean, that was wicked successful!” Faith cried excitedly.

“Yeah, it went great huh?” winced Dean, feeling like swooning due to the blood loss from his neck and wrist. It had been a disgusting experience having those things feed on him.

Faith quickly bandaged him up, passed him back his tranquilliser gun and helped him along the path. “Any other vampires we see, I’ll kill them okay?”

“Be my freaking guest Faith.” Dean mumbled, holding onto her for balance.

It was just their luck to run into a group of Vampires as they were coming out of the park Dean mused bitterly.

Dean watch Faith explode into action and start fighting. It was one of the creepiest things he had ever seen. Watching Faith in action he was positive that slayers must be slightly demonic to achieve what they did. He watched Faith kicking and punching away, emitting little grunts of effort.

Dean was totally content to be a mere observer. However when a female vampire went up to bite him his detachment had to end. Dean couldn’t be fucked facing anymore blood loss that night. So Dean fired the colt into the vampire's chest at point blank range with the resultant pleasure of watching her explode.

Dean coughed out vampire dust. He watched Faith stake a male vampire through the heart. The second male vampire came up behind her and grabbed her. Faith flipped over backwards and staked the vampire through the back. Dean felt like applauding Faith like he was at the Olympics, it had been such a spectacular move.

There were still two vampires left, a male and a female. Dean couldn’t tell what language they were speaking in but it sounded Eastern European. The female vampire came towards him and the male towards Faith.

Dean fired the colt again and missed the female because she was too quick for him. Crap! She snatched the gun out of his hand and pointed it at him.

Dean could hear his father’s voice in his head alread. The paternal vocie was berating him if Dean reported this SNAFU to him. Dean had lost the gun to an Eastern European vampire who looked like an undead call girl. Dean threw himself down on the ground at the vampire’s feet and exploded a balloon filled with holy water he had carefully kept in his pocket until now on the female’s legs.

The female vampire screamed in agony. Instinctively she fired at Dean. But Dean was prepared for this rolling out of the way. He kicked brutally on the burn of the vampire’s legs she went down screaming.

Dean threw himself on top of her pulling out carefully his last balloon. He shoved it down her open throat and her fangs tore it open. It was as effective as pouring acid down her throat. Her hands released the gun. the vampire clutched her throat instinctively.

Dean grabbed the colt as it fell and shot her through the head. He fell forward again as the peroxided blonde exploded into dust. He inhaled more dust and choked and spluttered.

“You’re kinda cute dispatching vampires.” Faith said helping Dean up, running her hands over his hard body. “Remember what we tell the slayerettes. Hold your breath, stake. Hold your breath, stake.” She dusted him off chattily. “God aren’t Romanian vampires freakin' strong? A lot of them y’know are three hundred maybe four hundred years old. They’re tough bastards to fight.”

Part 3

Faith sat Dean down on her bed and poured holy water on his wounds. Dean felt a mild tingling. Faith looked at his neck wound frowning. “That’s gonna need skin adhesives.” She ministered gently to his wounds and kissed his cheek quickly.

“All better.” Faith said smiling suggestively at him.

“I know how you can make it really better.” Dean whispered, winningly leaning his head against her shoulder.

“What by going down on you?” Faith grinned to herself, packing away the first aid kit.

“No!” started Dean guiltily “Not that you’re not free to do so, great of course.” Dean put the box down from Faith’s hands and pulled her down on the bed. “I meant lie down on the bed with me here and kiss me.”

“Shit Dean.” Said Faith wriggling in his arms and turning round and facing him. “That’s really sensitive of you.”

Dean stroked her back, sliding his hand up her sweater so he was stroking her bare skin. He kissed her cheeks and mouth. “You bring out the S.N.A.G in me Faith so sue me.” he whispered against her lips.

“There are condoms in the first aid kit on the floor. “ Faith whispered in his ear sexily sarcastic, “For when our special moment of intimacy occurs.”

Dean grinned, starteding to kiss her in appreciative earnest whilst pulling off her sweater. It was no mean feat. He looked at her full breasts in awe. His mouth lowered to kiss suck and nip at them. Faith sighed in pleasure unhooking her white sports bra to give him better access. Both of them knelt upright on the bed.

“Oh shit, I forgot to tell you I’m not into anal or blood play.” Faith blurted out of the blue.

“What the fuck is blood play?” mumbled Dean muffled by his own t-shirt, that Faith was pulling off.

Faith explained quickly as she took off Dean’s jeans and boxers. He had sensibly removed his shoes and socks before getting on the bed.

“Relax I’m from Kansas remember?” Dean unbuckled Faith’s kilt and threw it off the bed. He was surprised to see white cotton bikini panties, under her black pantyhose. Dean supposed you could never take the Catholic school out of a girl. He kissed and sucked her navel pushing down her hose and panties with his strong hands.

Faith lay completely naked before him. Dean knelt over her drinking in the sight more happy than a kid under the tree on Christmas day. Dean was pleased Faith wasn’t a lights out kind of girl. It would make the condoms hard to find for a start.

Faith looked up at Dean admiring the view equally. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever had in her bed. She sat up and took him eagerly in her mouth. She moved her head backwards and forwards happy to hear his moans of appreciation.

Dean could only take so much of this pleasurable torture before pushing her back and returning the oral appreciation.

Faith climaxed quickly and noisily. Dean was slightly disturbed but turned on like hell to hear Faith sounded the same having an orgasm as she did killing vampires.

He pulled a rubber on and pushed Faith back down hard on the bed, so he could enter her. As soon as he was inside her Faith flipped him over so she was on top. Dean grinned and rolled her over so he was on top again.

"Faith the first time I come inside you.” He whispered in her ear. “I’m going to be on top sweetheart.”

Faith flipped him back over. "No dude I am but you'll enjoy the ride."

They both relaxed, their power struggle over, enjoying their mutual building up to a fiery physical release. As an unexpedted sexual bonus after what had seemed a frozen eternity of hard thrusting and grunts of exertion from Dean combined with bucking and sobs of ecstasy from Faith, they reached a sweaty frenzied climax at the same time. Dean looked into her eyes as he released his life creating fluids inside her. At the moment in time he thought he’d never been with or would be again with any one so wonderful as Faith.

“My god Dean,” Faith breathed heavily, lying in Dean’s arms. “That was the wickedest orgasm of my life.”

“Amen.” Dean agreed he traced her arm tattoo with his hand “Could be true love.” He winked at her. He felt in love with her ten seconds ago he didn’t know how he felt about her now. That had definitely been the best fuck of his life to date. Dean felt sure of that one fact if nothing else.

“Could be Dean, baby” Laughed Faith at him on a high from endorphins “Could be.”

Faith in you part Four

2006-10-28T15:39:44Z

Chapter Four Detroit, New York and LA but I’m stuck in the UK

Fortunately Faith and Dean’s cab ride to the airport was completely non eventful. The ten hour trip over the Atlantic was a breeze as well. Dean played computer games. Faith read edifying magazines the whole journey.

There was one spot of turbulence over the Eastern Seaboard. They therefore learned that Dean had kissed a vampire and so had Faith. But neither had actually had sex with one.

“I slay them, not lay them.” Faith quipped. “Unlike others, I never got confused with that issue.” Dean wondered who the hell the woman knew who would be willing to sleep with a vampire.

Dean had had many more one night stands than Faith. Faith had been into B and D. Dean never had.

The turbulence ended. Once more Faith withdrew her hand. The two got on with what they were doing, but both felt a little closer to the other somehow.

The plane landed at Heathrow Airport in London at 11.30 at night. Two suave Englishmen picked the weary travelers up. Faith introduced them to Dean as Rupert Giles and Rory Pryce.

Dean was practically falling over with exhaustion. It was the combination of the flight, and dealing with customs which had held them up. Checking the paper work on bringing the colt into England had taken ages. Faith was holding Dean upright by the end of it all. Dean was uncomfortably aware that it was requiring virtually no effort on Faith's part to support him.

Both Rory and Rupert kissed Faith on the cheek and shook Dean’s hand, taking their luggage and helping Dean down to their car.

“Willow really needs to look at Dean, Rupert.” Faith said firmly. “I’m figure he’s still sick from where their demon caused him to internally bleed.”

“Yes darling, you do however forget that most of us mere mortals take a while to recover from a major car accident.” Rory teased her, holding the door open for her to get in the back with Dean and help support him.

Faith helped buckle Dean up, thinking if their car had had decent seat belts in the first place, the Winchesters wouldn’t have been as badly injured as they were.

Dean was vaguely aware they were driving through London streets. Finally the car stopped outside an old Georgian townhouse. Rupert parked his car on the street, and everyone helped get Dean and the luggage out.

Dean was interested to be inside a building so old, three centuries as least, and for it to be so renovated and comfortable on the inside. Apparently it was Rupert’s house.

Rupert had rung for this Willow person, to come over in the car. Shortly Dean was introduced to an auburn haired American woman, in her mid to late twenties.

Dean sensed there was something not quite right or different about her, the same way he did with Faith.

Willow made him lie down on the couch, running her white hand over his stomach, a pale glow coming off it.

Dean could see dark flecks seeming to rise up to her hand, from his body. He started to feel immediately better. Even more so, when Willow ran her hand over all his body, healing his scars with her magic. He could feel muscles repair and tighten, all fatigue going. It took Willow forty minutes to slowly heal him properly. Dean could tell it hadn’t drained the red heads power even slightly.

Faith sat holding his hand again reassuringly. Smiling at him all through the process. Dean really appreciated how nice Faith had been, to him and his family over the past three weeks. She was a real sweetheart, something he would never have guessed when he first saw her.

Willow nodded. “You were right Faith, he still had after effects of the Demon’s magic in him. It was slowly killing him.” Willow looked at Dean and grinned in a friendly way. “Good thing you had a slayer with you mister. They pick up on things others can’t.”

Willow looked at him and smiled sweetly. “Can I have the colt now please?”

Dean stood up and unzipped it from his travel bag. He looked at the colt considering, then handed it over. He doubted that the woman in front of him could possibly be possessed by anything. Power radiated off Willow, and it scared the crap out of him. It was like she was some kind of living saint.

“You can come by and see it tomorrow afternoon. I’ll tell you if I’ve made with the progress of making bullets for it.” Willow told him. “I think I might have a little success.”

Rupert stood at the living room door with a port bottle. “Stay for a Nightcap Willow?” he offered.

“I’m fine Giles.” Willow said. “Kennedy’s waiting up.”

Rupert nodded understandingly. “Of course.” He said. Dean watched Rupert help Willow on with her coat and kiss her on the cheek while giving her a hug.

Faith waited till Willow was out the door. “I bet Princess Kennedy was waiting up.” she scoffed “That bitch is ruining Willow’s life.”

Rupert polished his glasses wearily. “It’s not our place to judge other’s relationships Faith.” He poured her a glass of port. “Say when.”

Faith waited till her glass was almost overflowing.

“Oh you are a barbarian, Faith.” Rupert scolded her affectionately “Port, Cognac or Scotch, Winchester?

“Scotch thanks,” answered Dean, it was amazing he felt completely recovered from everything. The demon attack, the car accident, even his secret worry about Sam’s recovery were all gone.

“Me too mate.” Said Rory coming out of the kitchen with two glasses filled with ice. Giles poured scotch liberally all through them and handed a glass to Dean.

Faith fished out the duty free Cuban cigars Dean had noticed her buying at Heathrow and offered them round.

Rupert grabbed a box of matches from by his fireplace and passed it to Dean.

“Good to have you both here.” Rupert said raising his glass.

“Amen.” Said Rory

“Good to be here huh.” Said Faith sucking hard on her cigar. She puffed out a smoke ring.

“Thanks for having me Rupert.” Dean said meaning it.

They made idle chit chat for half an hour about the hell of transatlantic flight before Dean was shown his room by Faith.

He slept in the next morning to awaken feeling refreshed for the first time in six weeks.

He found the bathroom down the hall, had a shower and discovered the toilet was in a separate room from the bathroom. Shaved and dressed he made his way down to the kitchen.

Faith was reading the newspaper on the kitchen table in her dressing gown. She looked up and smiled. “Coffees brewed.”

Dean poured himself coffee and sat down at the table. Dean hoped he wasn't too obvious about checking out her cleavage showing at the top of her bathrobe. Faith passed him some toast and marmalade.

“Wanna go sight seeing?” she inquired. “It’s only nine here, Willow said she’d have results by three.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean said excited. A day sightseeing in London with Faith what could be better?

Faith pushed the newspaper over to him and went and got dressed.

They caught the London underground from Giles house, into the central city and then went on a Thames river cruise. The remainder of the afternoon, they spent playing darts and pool in a pub. Dean was surprised to see Faith buy a packet of cigarettes but when she pointed out it was going to be made illegal to smoke in English pubs in 2007 he could see her point.

“If I make it to twenty five.” Faith told him inhaling deeply “Hey I’ll quit then pal. Try the plowman’s lunch.”

At three o’clock Faith took him to meet up with Willow. Willow and her partner Kennedy another slayer, lived in a modern apartment in London’s docklands.

Willow opened the door looking tired, with circles under her eyes, but she still had a friendly smile. “I’ve retrieved 10 original bullets.” she told them. “And I think I’ve made a batch that will work just as well tonight.” She looked at them eyes twinkling, as she handed the colt and ammo over. “Do you feel like trying these nifty little guys out tonight?”

Faith nodded. “Awesome Will.”

She looked at the circles under the witches eyes. “She’s not worth it Willow.” Faith suggested to the red haired witch. Faith touched Willow's cheek gently.

Faith grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him up and led him out the door. “I’ll let you know how it went.” Faith called back to the red headed witch.

Dean looked at Faith still holding his hand down the corridor. Was she as attracted to him as he was by her. He decided to play it by ear, heck the chick had superhuman strength, why piss her off?

“Let’s go back to Rupert’s.” Faith said to him. “It will be fricking cold this evening where we’re going, we need warm clothes.”

“Where the hell are we goin’ and what are we killing huh?” Dean asked, deciding not to be a coward and putting his arm round her waist.

“Vampires.” smiled Faith looking up at him. Faith liked the feeling of his arm round her waist and was interested to see what he'd do next. “Same old, freaking same old, it should be easy to retrieve the bullets from the dust.”

They stepped in the lift together. Dean looked down at her, his green eyes staring into her brown ones and asked nonchalantly. “So, did Rory stay the night with you last night?”

“No.” said Faith. “I realized the second I saw him, there’s nothing deep between us, Rory just reminded me of my dead watcher.” Faith shook her head as if remembering painful things. “Let’s not go down there Dean, okay dude?”

Dean put his hands on her waist and pulled her hips to his slowly but surely. He cupped his right hand on her chin, slowly tilted her mouth up to meet his. Dean pressed his mouth against hers firmly. He closed his eyes, stroking the back of her neck with his other hand. He felt Faith shiver pressing her body against his. The couple heard the lift doors open and slowly pulled apart, instantly on their guard. A man walking his dog got in and got out in the lobby with them.

Dean and Faith walked down the street together holding hands, not saying anything. Dean realized that not saying anything was the route all his one night stands took. Once he had finished persuading them to go to bed with him. It didn't take much talk for most girls in bars with Dean.

Dean was not sure he wanted or could even have Faith as a one night stand. He was in London for only a week for a start. He'd have to see her afterwards. He'd have to interact with her.

Faith hailed a cab, to take them to the nearest tube station. They stood close and snuggled in the press of commuters on the platform and again in the train. Faith pointed out various things of interest along the way. Dean tried to reply to every single comment intelligently, wanting to impress her, never letting go of her arm for a second.

Faith's cell phone rang and he heard her tell Rupert not to worry about them for dinner, they’d have baked beans and toast when they got in.

“We’re on the train Giles.” Faith said into her cell. Dean was struck by the normalcy of it. All over the world, people on public transport, were informing others that they were on a train or bus. Dean felt connected to the mass of humanity for the first time in a long while.

Faith in you Chapter Three

2006-10-28T15:28:30Z

Rocky Mountain High

A relieved Dean following an amused Faith, walked off their United Airlines flight. Blinking as they came out of Denver’s domestic airport terminal into the noon sun. Faith explained to Dean that she always planned her travel arrivals to time with daylight. The traditional vampires that she dealt with were not sun resistant in any form, and most demons and ghosts didn’t like sunlight.

“I can’t believe your family thought Vampires were extinct!” Faith mocked, carrying both their suitcases effortlessly. Hailing a cab confidently. “I wish.”

Dean was relieved they were checking into a hotel rather than taking another flight directly. Sleep was something a still weak Dean definitely needed.

He looked on bemused as Faith paid for a suite for them with adjoining rooms. She kept the receipt, stuffing it carelessly into a plastic envelope. She rolled her eyes. "Tax purposes."

Lying wearily on a sofa he listened to Faith ordering them room service for a late lunch. Shit, it was amazing the difference travelling with money made.

The two young demon hunters went for a walk after lunch to stretch their legs. “I’m going to have a swim in the pool now.” Faith told him. “Wanna come, you can soak in the spa?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Dean said. He could feel his muscles wasting away after a month of bed rest and no appetite.

They changed in their rooms. Dean was surprised to see Faith's bathing suit was a decorous one piece with a cheerful Hawaiian print.

Faith wasn’t at all surprised by Dean’s grey swimming shorts. She looked at him in sympathy, the scars from the car accident were still prominent over Dean’s body.

The sun was very low in the sky. Dean dozed in the bubbling water. Sounds of fierce fighting made him jerk awake.

Faith was fighting with two vampires. The vampires were completely different from the ones Dean and Sam had faced two months ago.

Dean moved to help her, but she yelled for him to stay in the moving water. He watched her drag a pointed stick out of her swimsuit and plunge it into a vampires chest with superhuman strength. The vampire exploded into dust, Faith turned round swiftly fluid, quickly dispatching the second one.

Faith sprinted over, jerking him out of the spa pool. Dean felt weird to be so helpless, having a much slighter, smaller woman take care of him like this.

Faith Dean ran down the stairs from the roof top pool into their hotel room. Already Faith had prudently lined the windows with garlic and sprinkled salt on the threshold of the doorways. Part of her unpacking ritual she had explained.

“Something’s been tracking me recently.” Faith explained to Dean, once they were safely inside their rooms. “It’s like I have a stalker who just happens to also be a master vampire.”

Dean lay back exhausted on the bed. Christ he had never ever been this unfit, and out of condition in his adult life. “I feel your pain Faith.” Dean said.

Faith pulled her damp hair aside to show him an ugly scar on her neck. “I doubt that D.” Faith paced the room in frustration. “Fuck, I don’t want to order room service for dinner now in case the valet is possessed by a demon and is coming for you. Venison was on that menu and I love frickin venison.” She caught Dean’s eye and they both burst out laughing.

Dean read out a ward off evil chant , drawing some sigils in chalk around their hotel rooms.

Faith frowned at the chalk on the walls, slightly concerned. “That comes off right?”

“You’ll get your deposit back Faith.” Dean assured her. “What d’you care you seem to have an unlimited expense account?”

Faith shook her head. “Not unlimited and I normally fly economy. It’s because you're still not recovered from the car accident we're flying first class pal. Your father was crazy to send you off so soon. We could have waited another week.”

“Dad knows what he’s doing.” Dean defended his father quickly.

Faith seemed unconvinced and went to wash her hair.

Both went to sleep at ten, and both were awakened at four in the morning. Jumping awake at the sound of climbing outside up their hotel walls.

Dean reached for his bottles of holy water, placed handily on top of his night table. He saw Faith come into his room, armed with a crossbow.

They heard the window being tried open, but their defensive wards worked, gradually the sounds went away.

Faith raised her eyebrows at him. “Wonder if they were your buddies or mine?”

“We hopefully won’t find out tonight.” Dean gestured to her crossbow. “How the hell do you get that and your stakes through airport security?”

“I have a license to transport them in my suitcase, along with your colt babe,” Faith answered. “It’s not like I carry them on board, next to my nail file and lighter.”

“Faith?” Dean asked again. “Can you put that crossbow down now huh?”

“Sure D.” Faith lowered it. “Want some coffee?”