AN: This is a small exerpt from a story I wrote; in my opinion, the only good part. This plot bunny is up for adoption, but if no one's looking, it's a good standalone drabble-ish oneshot anyway.
"Hey, Wes?" Faith called. Shoot. She knew she should have asked which room he was napping in. She wandered along the second-floor hallway, wondering how to know where to turn.
A door opened to her right and Wesley appeared from it. "Faith?" he asked.
"Hey, I just wanted to see if you were... alright." Faith looked him up and down. Something felt different about him. She was suddenly aware of the stake up her sleeve. "What were you doing in the graveyard?" she asked, trying to shake off the feeling.
Wesley's face fell. He didn't want to tell her the truth; she could kill him, or she could be mad for not having been told, or she could kill him... "Um, investigating. Following a lead. You know." He smiled awkwardly and shifted. She smelled warm and nice.
Faith fingered the stake. "You better watch out around there," she advised. She knew this was only small talk, and couldn't for the life of her remember what she wanted to talk to him about. Something was off. She felt on edge, as if something was about to jump out at her. "Wh... where are your glasses?"
If he could sweat, he would. "They... they broke." He nodded, as if to affirm his own story. "I'm still waiting for the new ones." She smelled really warm and nice.
Footsteps resounded from the direction of the staircase, but Faith paid them no mind. "Oh? That's... that's too bad, I guess." She swallowed.
Silence fell between them, unnoticed by either party. Wesley clenched the doorframe as if to keep himself from leaping for the Slayer. Faith shifted, wondering why she felt the need to draw weapon on him.
Wesley's strength suddenly broke the doorframe, and in a second the scene abruptly changed. The Watcher's face contorted into the familiar yellow-eyed, bumpy-browed vampire face, and he hissed and leapt for Faith, who, at the same exact moment, drew her stake and ducked, whirling around behind Wesley and pulling her arm back for a strike. He turned and put a hand around her throat, and she jumped to kick him with both feet, dislodging the hand. She landed firmly and kicked him again in the chin, his head snapping back, before he retaliated with a punch, which she easily avoided. She grabbed his arm and spun him about, slamming his back against the floor, and she quickly turned and straddled him, stake pressed against his heart. The last of the splinters from the doorframe hit the floor.
"Faith!" Angel yelled from down the hall.
The Slayer looked up, startled. Angel stood, looking at the two with a shocked expression. She then looked down at Wesley, who, with a normal, human face, groaned on the floor. Quickly she rose from him, but did not put away the stake. She looked between the two of them, a bewildered look on her face.
"What the hell just happened?" she asked them.