Note: Decided to post more than one chapter. I had so much fun with this one. I really do like Giles so much. Please review. I live for reviews!
Chapter Three – Stuffy British Men
Two guards showed Wesley and Faith to the housing wing of the complex.
"Miss, this is your room. If you'll just follow me." The guard pointed to Wesley.
"This will do just fine," as Wesley marched in after Faith and slammed the door shut in his face.
"That was subtle," Faith mentioned as they checked out the room. Still a little too paranoid.
The room was spartan. Bed, table, two chairs, bathroom, mini-frig. Food on the table. Faith took a banana from the stack and started eating.
He stood and just watched her. Cleared his mind almost completely. Then proceeded to burst out laughing. Faith almost choked on her banana. Then she joined in after a coughing fit.
"Hey, I almost choked," she pointed out.
"Quite amusing, don't you think?"
"The banana, no. You knocking Giles on his ass or the expressions when you pulled out all of those weapons. Man, their faces."
"You played along nicely."
"Not exactly any choice, Mr. Macho. Had to protect those innocent guys from you. Even G.I. Joe didn't know what to do with you."
"Who?"
"Finn. Although he was a little less wary of you."
"Not a smart bugger, is he?"
"Smarter and stronger than you think. Held his own against Buffy. Not bad for a human. Still don't know what B saw in him."
Wesley took a bite of apple.
"A little too lovey-dovey sappy for me." Especially in bed. "Dammit."
Now it was Wesley's turn to choke. "How?"
"Body switch. Remember?"
"Vaguely," he sarcastically commented.
"Shower, now. These clothes'll have to be burned."
"No clothes." Wesley smiled.
"I'm sure they'll eventually find something for us to wear," Faith told him as she advanced toward him.
"Not that I don't mind you sans clothes."
"Lame," Faith said as her mouth closed over his. "Now, shower big guy."
Wesley took her hand to lead her into the small bathroom with him.
"I might need some help in my weakened state."
"Weakened state, my ass. You just want someone to wash your back."
"There is that."
"How's the wrist? Looks better."
"Is better, thanks to you." Wesley stripped off the white tee shirt they had given him in the infirmary. His chest looked like one big scrape. Then he dropped his pants.
"I love a man who knows how to strip in front of a girl." She really did love baiting him.
"Maybe later you can show me your technique."
Wesley pulled open the shower door and turned the water on. When he turned back, Faith was down to her very skimpy underwear.
"I was serious about washing your back."
"Tight fit," Wesley mentioned.
"Hey. I'm not that big. Besides, you are way too skinny. Maybe some of that military chow will fatten you up."
"I don't intend on staying here that long." Wesley didn't want them to think he worked for them.
"That water better be hot."
"Scalding, actually. Just the way you like it." Faith had taken one of those showers in his apartment right after the escape from prison. The second time she proceeded to take one, she destroyed his shower stall. Wesley never had the time to fix it properly.
Faith stripped the rest of her clothes off and stepped into the shower. "Get in here or I'll use all the hot water."
Wesley joined her. She did keep her promise to wash his back. And he had slowly washed her hair, which made her purr. But as he shut off the water and gave her a kiss on the forehead, he wondered why he hadn't taken what she so willingly offered.
"You OK, watcher?" she asked him as he shaved at the foggy sink. She had donned his new shirt and sat down on the toilet. Brushing out her thick hair, she watched him.
"Yes."
"So, did I do something wrong, cuz I thought that we . . . ."
Wesley finished with his face and looked down at Faith. "Here. Let me help."
Faith's hair smelled wonderful no matter what she used on it. He'd always liked long, curly hair. Cordelia's had looked so silky and luxurious at times, he just wanted to run his fingers through it, although he knew he'd get slapped for it.
The first thing that had attracted him to Virginia was her beautiful hair. The color in the light, how if he pushed his fingers through it, the curls would just wind themselves around his fingers. Fred's hair was fine and as soft as a baby's. Well, Lilah's hair wasn't what interested him at the time.
Faith's hair was a combination of all those elements he liked about women's hair. Soft, silky, thick, so he could bury his fingers in it to just feel. And she obviously liked his ministrations too.
"Thanks," she whispered to him.
No more talking, Wesley led her to the bed and pulled down the covers and patted the bed. He dropped the towel from around his waist and she took off the shirt. His body screamed for sleep. And the only way he'd get it would be to wrap Faith around him. She immediately understood what he needed.
A couple hours later, Faith dreamt again the same exact dream of dying on that altar. As she gasped for air, Wesley held her.
"I can't breathe," she struggled.
"Faith, you're hyperventilating. It's OK." He rubbed her back to reassure her.
"It was so real," she said breathing heavily.
Wesley kissed her until her body relaxed into his again. When he stopped, she stared into his deep blue eyes. She just loved his eyes. He kissed her again, but more passionately this time.
"Take me. I'm yours," Faith whispered in his ear.
"What did you say?"
"Something I've wanted to say for a very long time."
His eyes looked like blue flames as he entered her. And he looked at her the whole time. What he couldn't say out loud, he said with his heart and soul. He belonged to her too. She wasn't letting go of him any time soon.
Faith woke up, wrapped in Wesley's arms. It was dark in the room. The clock on the nightstand said 7:25 p.m. They'd slept for nearly twenty-four hours, with a couple of intimate intermissions in between. Her body felt rested and ready for action. Any kind of action.
As she reached down to wake Wesley, someone knocked on the door.
"Wakey, wakey, Wes. Someone's at the door."
"You go answer it, love. I'm knackered."
"I would, but hey, I might give ole' Giles a heart attack when he sees me in my birthday suit."
With that statement unfogging his brain, Wesley shot straight up in bed.
"You're correct. Good call." Wesley grabbed the discarded towel, placing it over his hips. Man, he had a nice ass.
Wesley stopped for a second, adjusting the towel, then proceeded to open the door.
Rupert Giles stood on the other side, none too happy with Wesley. Kind of reminded him of his father when he told him about his mistakes with the slayers.
"What are you doing here?" Giles asked.
None of your fucking business, Wesley thought. Faith snickered in the background.
"I was sleeping, if you must know. What do you want?"
"Need I remind you of your responsibilities?"
Faith had wrapped herself up in a sheet and walked toward them.
"I'm not her watcher any more, Rupert. She's an adult."
"No matter how much time passes, you will still be her watcher. That bond just doesn't magically go away."
"Hey, slayer right here. Talk to me like I'm standing in front of you."
"You're both adults. I'm not here to judge."
"Yes, you are Rupert. Now I ask you again, what do you want?" His patience was held by a tight string that was attached to Faith.
"For one, research help. Two, the children have been asking about you. So I thought I'd check."
"No clothes, Giles," Faith pointed out.
"Oh, sorry. I'll get some for you then. I'm not sure about size."
Wesley walked to the bathroom, gathered up all the clothes, and thrust them into Giles' arms.
"I trust this will help," Wesley deadpanned. Faith's rather skimpy underwear was on top.
"Yes, this will," Giles said as he adjusted the heap to not be staring at Faith's intimates. "And Faith?"
"Yeah."
"Now I know what to get you for Christmas." And Giles walked away with the bundle, chuckling.
"Is it just me or are all stuffy British men this way?" Faith asked, blushing.
"What, prudes?"
"Sex-depraved lunatics."
"I think the latter. Another shower, perhaps."
"You just read my mind."
TBC
