YELLOW BRICK ROAD
By: Lisette (lisette@chaletian.co.uk)
Rating: PG-13 so far - might change later on.
Distribution: Want, take, have. Just e-mail me first.
Summary: Faith is released from prison - but there's a catch.
Feedback: God, please.
Angel, Buffy, the whole lot, belong to JW, Mutant Enemy, and anyone else who officially owns them. I don't. Big surprise.
Okay, a few notes. Firstly, I haven't seen any of season 3 yet, though I know vaguely what happens. So, definitely after "Billy", and Fred and Gunn are getting with the happy, but "WITW" never happened.
Please, please review - I need to know what people think! I have a fragile ego and it needs bolstering! Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed - you have made me a happy person!
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Chapter Twelve - That Sado-Masochistic Thing
Three seconds later Wesley was on the floor, reeling from the knee he had just received in his stomach. Another second, and Faith was straddling him, grinning that wicked grin he had always hated.
"God, Wes, you are so pathetic. Always trying to be heroic, and you're just a big wimp!" On the last word, she raised herself slightly before banging down, forcing out the air in his lungs and leaving him breathless. Then she was gone, running off into the night, pausing only to pick up her bag.
Wesley lay on the floor, strangely relaxed. He gazed up at the ceiling, noticing absently the cracks running along it, the damp that was oozing down the walls. He lifted a hand slowly and rubbed his stomach, which he felt was going to be rather sore in the morning. Actually, sod that. It was rather sore now.
He picked himself up painfully, and left the motel room rather warily. The Wolfram & Hart muscle looked to be hazily waking up, and Wesley took a somewhat savage delight in kicking him in the ribs. He stumbled down the street for half a block until he found his motorcycle, carefully tucked behind a pile of packing crates. He mounted, wincing as he pulled on his stomach muscles. A moment later, and he roared off into the night. Rogue Demon Hunter indeed, he thought to himself with a grin, and then winced again.
Caritas had yet to open its doors to the public, but the door, per se, was open, and Wesley walked in, sinking gratefully into one of the chairs already out. His entrance had obviously alerted the occupants, and Gunn came bursting in, crossbow at the ready, only to lower it as he saw Wesley.
"God, Gunn, to you have to wave that thing around? It's so obviously Wes!" Cordelia hovered around, and though her words were as sharp as ever, it was clear she was concerned. "Okay, Wes, you look like someone beat the crap out of you."
"As ever, Cordelia, your perspicacity is truly overwhelming."
"Shut up, you big jerk!" She hit him lightly in the ribs, then her looked apologetic as he groaned. "Oh. Sorry!"
"Hey, man, who did this?" It was Gunn, looking mean and protective as only he knew how.
"Don't worry - just Faith."
"That bitch! I knew we shouldn't have…"
"Calm down, Gunn! I asked her to." They looked at him in surprise.
"'Kay, Wesley, I think you've taken one bump too many to that big head of yours."
"Oh. God." The two men turned to look at Cordelia, who was sitting back, an expression of disgust on her face. "Wesley - and the whole sado-masochistic thing. I mean - eww!"
"Cordelia, I… Look, just forget it. All part of the plan, the beautiful plan. Now, get me a drink, and I'm going back to my place to sleep off…the pain." He grimaced. "The large amounts of pain. Ow."