They were one hour into their drive back to LA, and Faith wasn't sure
she could take it anymore. They'd listened to nothing but country music the
whole way, and when she'd tried to change the station, he'd slapped her
hand away and told her she could deal with it or walk.
And, for some inexplicable reason -- maybe it was the heat, or perhaps it was her current status as frustratingly celibate -- she wanted to jump into his lap right there in the truck, no matter that he was driving. Nothing provoked a "let's get it on" attitude more than two years in the slammer with some of the most butch women alive. The fact that she'd caught him several times checking out her chest hadn't helped her hormone levels.
Faith wasn't one to be coy about sex, and she usually got what she wanted, but this was different. Lindsey was certainly attractive and had a bad-boy appeal that sent her into overdrive, but she'd promised herself that her days of bad decision-making were over. Lindsey wasn't currently evil, but he wasn't exactly good, either, and she wasn't going back to the darkness where she'd been. For now, she'd have to be satisfied with cold showers and the pleasures of her own company. She glanced at him quickly and turned her attention back to the road.
"I know what you're doing," he said tersely. He'd spent the last hour trying to ignore the fact that he was willingly driving into the pit of his own personal hell, and the fact that Angel would likely tear his head off with his bear hands when he got there. He'd also been trying to ignore the furtive glances from the woman beside him.
"You do?" she asked. She didn't know why she was embarrassed.
"Yeah, you're staring at my hand." He cursed himself silently for telling her about the damn hand in the first place.
Faith looked at his hands and remembered that one of them was a replacement. She couldn't remember which one.
"Paranoid much?" she asked. "I wasn't staring at your hand."
"Whatever," he muttered.
They continued on a little longer in silence.
"So, what's Angel's kid like?" he asked, trying to shift out of the uncomfortable cloud that had descended. "Anything like his father?"
"He's sullen and broody, and he's got some nice moves, so yeah, I guess he's a lot like Angel. But he's also a punk and a dirty fighter."
"So, he's exactly like dear old dad, then," Lindsey replied. Faith's voice took on a defensive edge. "It's not Angel's fault you made some bad choices."
"Shut up, Faith. I'm tired of listening to Angel's personal cheerleading squad."
"What the hell is your problem?" she asked. "You're the one who screws up, and Angel is the bad guy?"
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he countered. "Why don't you just---" His sentenced ended abruptly when Faith reached out with her left foot and jammed on the breaks. Lindsey swerved, and the truck skipped over the side of the road and skimmed the metal railing that divided the road from the woods below.
"Are you crazy?!" he shouted. "We could have been killed! What were you-"
Faith cut off the tirade by grabbing his head and dragging it close to hers, until her lips were pressed hard against his. So much for her promise to herself, she thought.
She allowed him a second to adjust before sliding her tongue into his mouth, and she felt a moment's hesitation before he greeted her with equal enthusiasm. Her fingers moved through his thick brown hair and settled on the nape of his neck, while his hand moved down her torso and rested on the bare skin revealed by her short white tank top. A low groan from the back of his throat fueled the tension in her body and the tension between them. Finally, they pulled away.
He looked at her quizzically and then turned his attention back to the steering wheel.
"What do you say we just pretend that didn't happen?" he said.
She nodded her head. "Agreed."
Within moments, they were back on the road, and Faith gritted her teeth. That kiss had certainly not helped her own already uncomfortable situation, but if Lindsey wasn't interested, she could handle it. There were plenty of other willing men out there.
The rest of the ride was quiet, and Lindsey did his best not to look at his passenger. The kiss had been a surprise. He hadn't expected her to grab him, and he hadn't expected to kiss her back. There was no denying that Faith was hot, and any man in his position would have done the same. But playing games with Faith was likely to get him into trouble he didn't need, if it didn't outright get him killed.
It was nearly dark by the time they entered the Los Angeles city limits, and Lindsey looked at his watch.
"It's late" he said. "Wanna find a place to sleep for the night before we hit the Hyperion?"
"Angel's a vampire," Faith said unnecessarily. "He's probably awake."
Lindsey's face scrunched up.
"Afraid?" she asked.
"Of course not," he shot back. "Don't be stupid."
They pulled into a parking spot in the front of the building and knocked on the door. It creaked open, and an elderly man's head peeked out.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Ummm.yes," Faith started. "I'm looking for Angel. Is he here?"
The man shook his head. "No one by that name here. Sorry." He closed the door.
"Well, we tried," Lindsey said. "Time to go." He turned to leave, but Faith caught him by the collar of his flannel jacket.
"Don't be a dick," she warned. "They probably just moved. We'll find them."
-- More to come.
And, for some inexplicable reason -- maybe it was the heat, or perhaps it was her current status as frustratingly celibate -- she wanted to jump into his lap right there in the truck, no matter that he was driving. Nothing provoked a "let's get it on" attitude more than two years in the slammer with some of the most butch women alive. The fact that she'd caught him several times checking out her chest hadn't helped her hormone levels.
Faith wasn't one to be coy about sex, and she usually got what she wanted, but this was different. Lindsey was certainly attractive and had a bad-boy appeal that sent her into overdrive, but she'd promised herself that her days of bad decision-making were over. Lindsey wasn't currently evil, but he wasn't exactly good, either, and she wasn't going back to the darkness where she'd been. For now, she'd have to be satisfied with cold showers and the pleasures of her own company. She glanced at him quickly and turned her attention back to the road.
"I know what you're doing," he said tersely. He'd spent the last hour trying to ignore the fact that he was willingly driving into the pit of his own personal hell, and the fact that Angel would likely tear his head off with his bear hands when he got there. He'd also been trying to ignore the furtive glances from the woman beside him.
"You do?" she asked. She didn't know why she was embarrassed.
"Yeah, you're staring at my hand." He cursed himself silently for telling her about the damn hand in the first place.
Faith looked at his hands and remembered that one of them was a replacement. She couldn't remember which one.
"Paranoid much?" she asked. "I wasn't staring at your hand."
"Whatever," he muttered.
They continued on a little longer in silence.
"So, what's Angel's kid like?" he asked, trying to shift out of the uncomfortable cloud that had descended. "Anything like his father?"
"He's sullen and broody, and he's got some nice moves, so yeah, I guess he's a lot like Angel. But he's also a punk and a dirty fighter."
"So, he's exactly like dear old dad, then," Lindsey replied. Faith's voice took on a defensive edge. "It's not Angel's fault you made some bad choices."
"Shut up, Faith. I'm tired of listening to Angel's personal cheerleading squad."
"What the hell is your problem?" she asked. "You're the one who screws up, and Angel is the bad guy?"
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he countered. "Why don't you just---" His sentenced ended abruptly when Faith reached out with her left foot and jammed on the breaks. Lindsey swerved, and the truck skipped over the side of the road and skimmed the metal railing that divided the road from the woods below.
"Are you crazy?!" he shouted. "We could have been killed! What were you-"
Faith cut off the tirade by grabbing his head and dragging it close to hers, until her lips were pressed hard against his. So much for her promise to herself, she thought.
She allowed him a second to adjust before sliding her tongue into his mouth, and she felt a moment's hesitation before he greeted her with equal enthusiasm. Her fingers moved through his thick brown hair and settled on the nape of his neck, while his hand moved down her torso and rested on the bare skin revealed by her short white tank top. A low groan from the back of his throat fueled the tension in her body and the tension between them. Finally, they pulled away.
He looked at her quizzically and then turned his attention back to the steering wheel.
"What do you say we just pretend that didn't happen?" he said.
She nodded her head. "Agreed."
Within moments, they were back on the road, and Faith gritted her teeth. That kiss had certainly not helped her own already uncomfortable situation, but if Lindsey wasn't interested, she could handle it. There were plenty of other willing men out there.
The rest of the ride was quiet, and Lindsey did his best not to look at his passenger. The kiss had been a surprise. He hadn't expected her to grab him, and he hadn't expected to kiss her back. There was no denying that Faith was hot, and any man in his position would have done the same. But playing games with Faith was likely to get him into trouble he didn't need, if it didn't outright get him killed.
It was nearly dark by the time they entered the Los Angeles city limits, and Lindsey looked at his watch.
"It's late" he said. "Wanna find a place to sleep for the night before we hit the Hyperion?"
"Angel's a vampire," Faith said unnecessarily. "He's probably awake."
Lindsey's face scrunched up.
"Afraid?" she asked.
"Of course not," he shot back. "Don't be stupid."
They pulled into a parking spot in the front of the building and knocked on the door. It creaked open, and an elderly man's head peeked out.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Ummm.yes," Faith started. "I'm looking for Angel. Is he here?"
The man shook his head. "No one by that name here. Sorry." He closed the door.
"Well, we tried," Lindsey said. "Time to go." He turned to leave, but Faith caught him by the collar of his flannel jacket.
"Don't be a dick," she warned. "They probably just moved. We'll find them."
-- More to come.