Wesley wakes up to Faith poking him in his still-sore ribs. (She's never able to maintain full control of her slayer strength in the throes of...well. Throes.)
"Wake up, Watcher," she says, mouth quirking.
He squints at his nightstand clock. "It's...five a.m.!"
"Yeah, but it's raining."
"And?" He lifts an eyebrow.
"Rain makes me horny."
He puts on his sternest look and his plummiest--she would say prissiest--Watcher voice. "I fear I must correct you, Faith. Breathing makes you horny."
She laughs, kisses his bruised sides, and it's a long time before they get back to sleep.
