Note: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. My house has become a cat hospital right now. Very sick, very old cat. I have to give shots, IVs (no, not in a blood vessel thank goodness, way too tiny) and icky medicine. The things we do in the name of love.
Chapter Seven – Layover
March 2005
In the early morning hours, Faith got up and padded to the refrigerator after hearing the noise that she had heard now for the last seven months like clockwork. Since it was time to get up for work anyway, she slipped on her robe to ward off the chill that had developed overnight in her small apartment above the diner where she worked.
A late winter storm had blown through the night before, leaving the landscape outside a clean white. The sun hadn't risen yet, but her internal clock always was right. Since she didn't patrol anymore, she had to adjust to actually sleeping at night, instead of during the morning hours. It suited her to live like most other people did in the small town where she had finally settled.
Hearing a crash in the alley, Faith looked out the window to see someone rummaging through the garbage cans. This didn't happen ever. People took care of everyone here. If someone needed a job, then one was found. Just like what had happened when she had pulled into this little town a little over eight months before. Darcy had taken Faith under her wing, practically mothering her, making her want to stay.
Faith felt safe for the first time in her life. And she wouldn't let any badness hurt anyone she now considered to be friends. Slipping her shoes on, she crept down the back stairs and opened the door slowly. And sighed in relief when she saw that Darcy was just taking the garbage out. Shoving the stake behind her back, she called out to the older woman, just to make sure everything was all right.
"Darce, what are you doing out here?"
"Trash, is what. Tracy left it last night. I didn't want to start the day with a smelly kitchen. It ruins my day, you know."
Darcy did want things just right in her kitchen. Order did have its place at the diner. Faith had learned that early on.
"Come on. Back inside. It's too cold to be out here."
"I'm fine. I've been doin' this since before you were alive."
Darcy crossed the alley and stepped into the back door. Faith looked around, never losing that habit of just checking things out to be safe. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a movement at the mouth of the alley. She couldn't be sure, but it looked to be human by what little she saw. Or it could have been something else entirely.
"Promise me somethin'?" Faith asked the woman as she closed and locked the door.
"Yeah?"
"Don't go in that alley unless it's light outside. It's just too spooky back there," Faith told her, her tone very serious.
"In this town, what could happen?"
"Plenty. Just promise me. OK?"
"And who's the worrywart here?"
"Just cautious is all. Now I'll be down shortly."
Faith turned her head and listened for a familiar sound.
"Hey, you do that. I got a hankering for some of those muffins you made yesterday."
"They're scones, Darce."
"Yeah, those English things you keep talkin' about. Good stuff."
"Yeah, really good stuff," Faith agreed, thinking of the past.
Faith walked the woman back to the kitchen and headed upstairs to start her life anew on that cold morning.
The figure that Faith had seen briefly in the alley stood behind a building, trying to relax. Faith hadn't seen him. Or at least he hoped that she hadn't. He needed to talk to her, to warn her of what could be coming. He had tracked her here this far. And if he could track her, then the other one could also. And he didn't want to see her hurt any more than she had been. He'd stake his life on that.
November 2003
Faith was so glad that she had seen the motion outside the car. The claw that raked down Wes's seat would have caught his chest deep. She wouldn't have been able to defend from an attack like that. But before she could yank her door open, the creature with the wicked claws tried a different tactic. It instead pulled Wes directly out his window by the back of his jacket. Faith closely followed through the now shattered window.
It looked like she was facing the fucking Abominable Snowman. It wasn't as big as it was portrayed in the cartoon, but it was white and had the really sharp teeth and claws. It did outweigh and top Wes by at least a foot. She could see its muscles clench as Wesley struggled to get away from it. So Faith did the only thing she could think of. She pounced on it like a cat.
Raising her fist, she slammed into it after making a considerable leap. Its head snapped back slightly, causing it to let Wes go from its claws. She went tumbling to the snow with the white beast as it lost its balance in the slick, slushy stuff. Wes rolled off to the side so he didn't get crushed like a pancake.
Her fist reared back again as the thing struggled to regain its footing, hitting it in the midsection. Wes had now scrambled away, heading for the car and weapons. Faith was finding out in a fat hurry the thing had a thick hide, which meant it would be difficult to take down. Her punches didn't seem to have much effect on it at all. And her knuckles were still a little sore from the last encounter not more than an hour ago. Who knew that the Midwest held so many demons just itching for a fight? She kind of felt like she had some tracking device on her so they could find her at any given moment.
The creature threw her across the snow, which thank goodness provided a soft landing. The only problem was it was deep where the thing had tossed her. It was up to her knees, making any fast moves a big problem. It didn't seem to have that problem at all since it was able to lumber over and slug her.
"Wes, weapons," she screamed.
Blood streamed down her face from the mean fist the thing had aimed her way. What she really had to avoid though was those razor-sharp claws. Several times it had taken a swipe at her. They were long and very deadly, which could slice her up fast.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wes charging for her, crossbow in one hand and a really sharp sword in another. The old Wes would have probably fallen down and stabbed himself. This one fired bolts into the demon's body, all the while holding the sword in his other hand. Multitasking at its finest.
The thing turned to see where his other attacker was, so Faith leapt onto its back. Pulling her dagger from her boot while hanging on by one arm, she stabbed it in the neck. It roared in pain, but managed to flip her forwards into the snow. Now she was directly in front of it. The look of murder in its eyes said it all. They needed to work fast or both of them wouldn't survive this encounter.
Another barrage of arrows flew by and Faith ducked. A few actually stuck this time, making the creature bellow. Its claws finally struck home in her flesh, hitting her leg. Luckily she had moved away quickly, so it didn't go deep. Her dagger was no match for its long reach. Unless Wes could reach her in the snowdrift, she'd have to figure out a different strategy to take it down.
Rolling until she could actually stand, she threw the dagger, puncturing some kind of main artery, because red blood spurted out, turning the snow a sickly color. But the thing still didn't go down. Backing away as quickly as she could manage, the thing hit her again with its claws, this time catching her in the stomach. Now that did burn like fire. Punching out, she caught it on the arm, only to be backhanded out of the snowdrift.
Clutching her stomach from the pain, she watched with narrowing vision as the thing came towards her. Wesley ran to stand in front of her, not attending to her just yet, but to try and defend her, hopefully taking the thing down in the process. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she heard a scream of agony.
Wesley stabbed the thing a fourth time for good measure, just to make sure it wasn't getting back up. Anger coursed through him for not having his gun on his person. He had tossed it onto the backseat right after he and Faith had gotten into the car from the last demon attack. He had managed to avoid its claws, something that Faith hadn't. Slicing down, he took its head off to play it safe. He staggered over, reaching down to Faith to see if she was badly hurt. He could see the wound on her leg and stomach stand out against her shredded clothes. They weren't bleeding profusely like he had first thought. They didn't look to be too deep. So why had she passed out?
Dropping to his knees, he inspected the one on the stomach first, noticing a residual sticky secretion on the open wounds. Was she drugged? Was she infected with something from the creature? He couldn't be sure at that point. And he surely couldn't take her to a hospital to check that out. His back tried to seize up on him again, but he buckled down and picked her up, almost dropping her when he felt an agonizing burn coming from his lower back. Willing himself through it, he opened the now windowless door and gently placed Faith on the seat.
As quickly as he could, he made it around to the other side, gunning the car to get it off the side of the road and out of there. He didn't want to take the chance that there were other creatures like that roaming around, waiting for another go at them.
Wesley racked his brain, trying to assess what he had available with him in the car. He knew of several healing spells, but he didn't know whether he had enough strength in him to perform any of them. Ready to take her to the hospital, Faith came around finally, mumbling incoherently. She grabbed his arm in her daze to make a point before passing out again.
"No fucking hospital, watcher," she managed to squeeze out before dropping over to the side, clearly unconscious this time.
The first motel he saw, he exited the freeway. He asked for the room the farthest from the office, saying that he wanted his privacy. The man at the desk just winked at him and gave him the key. Even explaining that Faith was sick didn't earn him anything other than a shake of the head. The guy probably thought that they were there for one thing only.
As he arrived back at the car, he slowly gathered Faith out, half carrying her, half dragging her to the room. Luckily, there wasn't anyone around to pester them about her state. He placed Faith on the bed and ran to get the rest of their belongings. Then he moved the car to a hiding spot away from the room. Clearly, something was going on beyond his control. They had encountered way too many demons, whereas he had encountered none on his way out from California. He wanted to chance it and call Angel. But he felt that it wasn't wise until absolutely necessary.
Pulling the curtains to, he turned on the light by the bed to provide some illumination to check over Faith's injuries. She still hadn't awoken since her proclamation of not wanting to go to the hospital. Her breathing wasn't labored and her skin wasn't hot or cold. But that could change in an instant. Lifting up her shirt, he saw that the wounds did not look very deep. They wouldn't require stitches. The slayer healing had already started to close some of the most superficial ones.
The wound on her leg though was a bit deeper. But neither one should have caused her much discomfort since she was a slayer. He had seen her take much more and bounce back to annoy him further. Something else was at work here. Slowly, he worked her boots and pants off. One thing that did frighten him was the color of her skin. It was even paler than it normally was. Since Faith was a creature of the night, she tended to have quite pale, almost alabaster skin. Her years in prison had seemed to make that trait even truer.
He had grabbed the first aid kit from the car, knowing that it contained a little more than the average kit, since all of Angel's cars were equipped as such. He first needed to clean the wound thoroughly, and then ascertain if the creature had somehow infected her with something from its claws. Taking a dampened washcloth, he cleaned off the site as best as he could, then he swabbed it with alcohol and hydrogen peroxide and smearing it with antibiotic ointment just to play it safe. Faith didn't even flinch, which must mean that she was completely out of it. He next took care of the stomach wound.
Wrestling her tattered shirt off, he tried not to pay attention to how lush and beautiful Faith's body was, but it was damned hard to not. If she knew his line of thinking, she just might slug him or she might want him to join her on the bed if things had gone the way they had been going in the car. He really did need to reassess what on earth they were doing on that count. Cleaning these wounds, he sat back to figure out what to do next about her injuries.
Going through everything in his head, he had concluded that it couldn't be coincidence that they had battled that many demons since leaving Chicago. Sure, the first encounter he could believe. But the others seemed to happen too close together. He'd have to ask Faith if she had made any new enemies lately. Not like he hadn't made some also. Wolfram and Hart could be contributing to it too.
Turning off the light in the room, he then inspected her wounds with his flashlight, trying to see if anything else was glaringly apparent. Nothing showed up. He wished that he had some kind of blacklight, to see if any kind of glow would show up under that particular kind of illumination.
So he really didn't have anything to go on, other than the fact that Faith was now unconscious. He needed to research this, but had no means to do so in the room. Pulling out his cell phone, he opened it up to place the call to Angel. Then he closed it again. He had used it several times since they had left Chicago, checking messages, but never actually talking to anyone. It was his cell phone, not one that the firm had given him. He wanted his conversations to be private. But what if they weren't. They weren't leaving a credit card trail, since he used cash to pay for almost everything since the trip began.
After Wesley popped the battery casing off the phone, he looked for a way to open the thing up and inspect it. Digging his small tool kit out of his briefcase, he managed to finally open the internal workings of the phone. He knew enough about phones and how they worked to realize that there were too many pieces in this particular phone. He was being tracked. Probably by Wolfram and Hart. But was that a bad thing?
Faith had failed to take Angel down for the law firm that one time. Could they be gunning for her? Or could they be gunning for him? He hadn't exactly joined in on the company plan. Fred and Gunn seemed to blend in nicely. He just irritated the hell out of everyone he came into contact with daily. Most who worked there now turned away as soon as they saw him coming.
But who on earth would have imagined the scenario of him offering a ride to Faith in the first place? It definitely wasn't planned. Most people would have probably said that it would never happen. No one really knew what had happened between the two the last time she was in Los Angeles. He was certain that Wolfram and Hart had no knowledge of their time spent together taking Angelus down. Yes, they could figure out certain aspects of that mission, but not how they had worked together as a team. Most still thought that the two of them hated each other with a passion.
So the only conclusion he could come up with was it must be Faith. She had done something to warrant the attacks. Not that she had purposely caused the attacks, but nonetheless they seemed to be more directed at her. And the attackers seemed to be demons he had no knowledge of whatsoever. That was saying something if he didn't know about them, since his mind tended to work like an encyclopedia.
In his mind, he tried to ignore the fact that someone had sent demons to kill, not just scare. But they had almost died this time. There were just too many variables, no matter whose problem had struck. He and Faith were sitting targets until he could help Faith.
He needed to contact Angel as soon as he could to figure out if Faith was in immediate danger from some kind of toxin. But he was afraid to leave her for any length of time to find a pay phone. Until he was certain she wouldn't die, he would have to keep watch over her. Or if it became necessary, he'd have Angel send in a team to get them the hell out of there.
A couple of hours later, Faith managed to open her eyes. The movement at first startled Wesley, but he was grateful that she was finally awake.
"What happened?" she rasped out.
"The demon clawed you. Do you remember?"
"Vaguely," she slowly said, grimacing at the pain in her leg as she tried to move it.
"How do you feel?"
"Like a truck ran over me. Is it hot in here or is it me?"
Observing that she had been peaceful on the bed, Wesley hadn't checked her temperature in a few hours because he didn't want to disturb her. Touching her forehead, he realized that her skin temperature had elevated since last checking. Faith kicked the blanket he had placed over her off to the end of the bed. She giggled a little as she looked down at her state of undress. Her undergarments didn't really cover much.
"Make you blush?" she asked him as she dropped her head back down on the bed.
"I was tending your wounds."
"Yeah. I know. Sorry I was out of it when it happened."
At least she was coherent, he thought. Enough to be flirting with him. Which hopefully meant that she would come out of this unscathed. Reaching her hand up, she lightly touched his arm, rubbing her thumb over his forearm.
"You should rest. You have a fever. It'll help."
"Yes, watcher."
Wesley shook out some antibiotics from the supply. "You need to take these."
"Where'd you get those?"
"Medical kit in the car."
"You are such a boy scout. Got any condoms in there too?"
The old Wesley would have choked. The new Wesley smirked her way. "What flavor?"
"Damn, you are funny."
Suddenly, Faith arched her back in pain and bit down a scream.
"Faith, what's wrong?"
"It hurts," she cried out.
"Where?"
"Everywhere."
"I need to call in reinforcements."
"Don't you dare call Angel."
Wesley picked up his recently put back together phone and opened it up to dial. "I don't know what to do for you."
"We both know that this is fucked up. Someone's after us. I've fucking figured that out already. Use that big brain of yours."
Faith breathed in and out finally, after whatever pain she was experiencing had passed. Placing the blanket back over her, he pulled out the thermometer and took her temperature. After performing that task, he read it to be only 102 degrees.
"You invite any trouble lately?" Faith panted out.
"What haven't I done?"
"Any real threat?"
"Could be. You?"
"Hey, slayer? Remember. All the fucking time. But nothing really scary right now. Just the regular customers."
The thought of his father ran through Wesley's brain. They had never really ascertained if his father had sent the cyborg replica to take down Angel. Obviously, the Council hadn't done it, because he had immediately called Giles to rant right after talking to his very much alive father. Giles vehemently denied it and Wesley had to apologize to him for his surly attitude over the phone.
"So what do we do? I'm about as weak as a kitten. How's your back?"
Concerned Faith made him tense up a little. Would he ever get used to her being on the side of good and sane? Insane, evil Faith was so much more realistic. The Faith on the bed in front of him seemed to be a million miles from the girl he knew from before. Just like the man he had become was a million times different from the one who knew her back then.
"I'm fine," he announced.
"Just don't fall down on the floor. I don't think I'd have the strength to straighten you up again."
"I won't, I assure you."
"Then no sleeping on that ratty chair."
Faith's body involuntarily shivered just then, making him wonder if this was the wrong course of action. Her slayer ability to heal may not be able to handle whatever toxin was coursing through her body.
"Now it's cold. Damn it."
Wesley tucked the blankets around her more securely. Her skin was now clammy and cooler to the touch. The look in her eyes told him that she was frightened of what was happening to her. This was something that she couldn't fight with her fists.
"I'll see if I can find some kind of Internet connection. Maybe research some things. If I leave for a few minutes, will you be fine?"
"Not going anywhere," she managed to get out, teeth chattering.
Grabbing his computer from inside the briefcase, he hurried out the door, pulling on his jacket along the way. In the office of the motel, he asked the clerk where he might plug his computer to access the Internet. The clerk did him one better and said that he could just use the office's computer, of course for a price. That would make what he was doing less traceable. Getting onto a few sites, he actually managed to track down a few facts about the creature that attacked Faith. He recognized the family of demon species it might belong to. But he was stumped on how its claws were toxic.
After working for another fifteen minutes, Wesley realized that he needed to get back to Faith posthaste. He didn't want to be gone for too long. Trying one more database at his disposal, it hit him as he looked at the creature on the screen. He knew of a method to cleanse Faith's body of the toxins. It wouldn't be pretty. And it would probably hurt like hell.
Chanting a little over the computer, he erased what he thought were all the traces and cookies, so it would be hard to find out that he had used this particular computer. It was all the energy he could spare at the moment, since his back was acting up on him again. Standing up gingerly, he gave the clerk a twenty for payment. What he didn't tell the clerk was he probably had erased all the website favorites on this computer, including all the porn sites the man had bookmarked. Nothing he could do about that now.
At the coffee shop next door, he ordered some soup and tea to go, since his stomach was just in knots and he'd need the strength for curing Faith. He hoped that Faith would have strength enough to eat a little soup before he tried the only method he knew of.
Going back into the motel room, Faith wasn't on the bed. He heard water running in the bathroom. She must have had enough strength to run a bath. Knocking on the door, he opened it just slightly to check on her.
"Faith?"
"Trying to warm up," she mumbled.
Going against his instincts of offending her modesty, he opened the door to see if she was all right. The room had steamed up considerably. Pulling back the torn shower curtain, Faith sat in the now full tub, arms crossed over her front, like she was still too cold. Reaching down, he turned off the flow of water before it went over the side.
"Not helping?"
"Not much. This just sucks."
"But it might help a little, cleaning out the wounds more."
"Find anything?" she asked, looking at him with those big, hopeful eyes of hers.
"Maybe. There's something that I would like to try."
He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but by the change of expression on Faith's face, she knew it probably was bad.
"But you don't think it will work," she answered, putting her chin on her drawn up legs.
Kneeling at the side of the tub, he looked at her, wanting her to know that he would try his best to see that she got rid of whatever had invaded her body.
"No, I'm not sure whether it will work. I think it has a shot though. But that's not what concerns me."
"It'll hurt like a bitch, won't it?"
Just like she could read his mind. Why did they think so much alike? If they had met as watcher and slayer with the personalities they had now, they would have been so much more successful in their working relationship. But they weren't in that kind of working relationship anymore. Which was a good thing, since he weaved her shaking handinto his.
"Unfortunately, yes."
Faith smiled a little at his proclamation. "No pain, no gain."
"It's good that you're getting clean. What I have in mind calls for it."
"Tell me what I have to do. Cuz this is really getting annoying."
Faith still shivered in the quite hot water in the tub. He would like to give her a little more time in the bath. But the sooner he did what he had to do, the better.
"Have you thoroughly cleaned the claw marks?" he asked.
"No. I've just been sittin' here, tryin' to get warm."
The hot steam gave Faith's face a rosy glow, unlike the pasty one she had when he left to use the computer. When she got out, the pastiness would probably return. At least now, her blood was pumping a little more. It might make what he was going to do a little easier.
Wesley reached over to grab the sliver of soap the motel provided.
"Eww. Don't you dare. Look in my bag. That stuff is just shit. Not on my skin, you don't."
"Discriminating?"
"After prison? The only thing I splurge on. The soap I used there could strip off your lily white hide."
Stripping off his sweater, Wesley dug around in Faith's bag and found her toiletries. Rolling up his sleeves, he knelt back down by the tub. As he opened the bag, he rooted around until he found the soap she had asked for. That was why Faith smelled like she did.
"Hey, quit smelling my soap and get this over with."
He hadn't realized that he had held the bar up to smell. Faith just gave him a little smirk in return.
"Can you stand?"
"One, you can't hold on to me all slippery. Two, you drop me with that bad back and I'll crack my head open on the tub. Just let some of the water out, but not too much. It's helping the cold."
Faith still had her arms wrapped around her legs, shielding herself from his view. But she'd have to expose herself totally if he was going to help her. He knew she could sense his discomfort. In fact she grabbed his hand to tell him that she was going to be fine with it.
The shaking had started anew, so he plugged the tub back up again, not wanting her to get any colder.
"Leg first," he announced.
Faith straightened her leg out so he could reach the wound. Swallowing slightly, he touched it, soaping up his hands to clean it thoroughly. She winced a little at his hands touching it, closing her eyes as he performed the task twice to make sure it was clean.
"Stomach?" he now asked, knowing this would be a little more uncomfortable for her.
Faith unfolded her arms and slid her legs down to the bottom of the tub. She wasn't embarrassed by her state of undress. Her stomach was still too far under the water to be washed thoroughly.
"The leg's the worst one. I don't think I'm gonna be able to get out of the water enough so you can get to it."
Wesley couldn't get out of his mind how beautiful she was. He wanted to reach out and stroke every part of her, to feel every plane and angle, to see if she really was as soft as she looked. But he needed to stifle all thoughts about that right that instant if he was to help her out of her predicament.
"You'll have to stand," he implored her.
"Help me up," she asked him.
Taking her arm, he slowly helped her stand in the tub. Water went everywhere, especially all over the front of his shirt. He kept his gaze totally focused on her face, trying to show her that he was there to help, not ogle her body like some schoolboy. She managed to grin back at him. Her legs shook, so he grasped the soap and went to work. Her stomach felt hard and flat as she stood there, him making circles to clean the claw marks. It clenched even more, probably because of the pain she had to endure at his touch. Faith hung on for dear life until he finished cleaning it.
"Sit," he ordered.
Faith almost slipped, but he caught her in time. She sighed her pleasure as the warmth surrounded her again. By the time he was done helping with her bath, his shirt was soaked down the front he where he was holding her up, plus on the one side because of the soap that had run down his arm.
"Much better," she groaned. "And quit acting like a saint, Wes. One or two looks aren't gonna harm anyone."
Wesley swallowed hard and turned to gather a towel up to get her out and dried off.
"Ready?" he asked finally, after catching his breath.
He wasn't a saint like Faith just called him. He realized how tantalizing she was right then. But she was ill. And he would do his damnedest to help her get better. Then he would think about all the looks and touches that seemed to be happening between them.
"Since I practically had to crawl in here, you sure you can handle this? What if I fall?"
"I'll catch you."
This promise Wesley could keep, unlike when she fell into evil after all that happened in Sunnydale. He was much more prepared to catch her now. Setting the towel on the toilet, he reached his arm out again to take hers as she levered herself out of the tub.
"Injured leg can't take any weight," Faith ground out as he helped her over the rim.
Leaning her against his chest, Wesley reached down to grab the towel. At least her skin was now warm and red. He hurriedly wrapped her up in the small towel, not only to get her dry, but also to take away all the temptation that she presented by her nakedness. Before he could lead her back to the bed, her strength gave out. Catching her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way.
Faith had snaked a hand around his neck to hold on. He couldn't help but look down to make sure he wouldn't trip and fall over with her in his arms. But she had her eyes closed, concentrating on overcoming the pain in her body. Standing over the bed, his back twinged in revolt at her weight, although slight for a human, that he was carrying.
"Faith, you're going to have to slide down off of me the rest of the way. If I bend over to place you on the bed, I won't get up."
Faith opened her eyes to nod her acceptance of what she needed to do. Sliding down off of him, he almost groaned at her closeness, but figured that wouldn't be such a great idea.
"I can't stop shaking," Faith replied as she sunk down onto the bed.
She quickly pulled all the blankets over herself as Wesley gathered up the supplies that he needed. Going outside one last time, he brought in a bottle of clear liquid that had been sitting in the snow, keeping it cold.
"Faith, I want you to listen. The demon that attacked you, freezing holy water can hurt it. I'm going to try and extract some of the toxin by using it on your wounds."
"Now why would that hurt?" she chattered out.
"The toxin is part of the demon. Which means that part is now in you. It'll burn, just like it does a vampire or any other demon that can be hurt by it. It won't scar you or permanently harm you, if I do it correctly."
"Do it correctly?" Faith squeaked out.
"I have to use a particular spell. But I don't know if I have enough energy to perform it."
"Will it hurt you?"
"I'm not sure. I don't know what else to try, frankly."
As Faith nodded her head yes, he could see the tears escape from her eyes.
"Just get it the fuck over with."
Wesley uncovered her injured leg only. The ghostly cast to her skin was starting to return quickly. Slowly he started the chant that he had remembered from long ago. He just hoped his memory would serve him well this time. As gently as he could, he poured a few drops of the holy water on her wound. He wasn't expecting a sizzle, but got one. His spell was obviously working. A muffled scream escaped from Faith. The wound glowed a little from the heat that the spell had begun generating, which was why he had refrigerated the holy water.
"I'm going to have to do this several times to make sure all the toxin is out. Ready to go again?"
He knew he should just do it to save her even more agony. But he wanted her to know that if at any time she wanted to stop and breathe that she could. Another nod from her had him pouring on a little more. It practically hissed as it struck her skin. He could feel the spell drain his energy more quickly than he had expected. He would have to work faster if he were to succeed in curing her.
The next time he poured, he used a little more. Faith was clutching the bedsheets so hard, he thought that she might be dying.
"Don't die, Faith," he commanded of her.
"It just fucking hurts," she managed to answer him.
"One more time, love. Just hold on."
One more time chanting, one more flow of liquid. The wound didn't hiss as much and most of the secretions coming out were now clear and fluid, not sticky. He cleaned away the excess moisture, but left the healing wound open to the air.
"OK, on to the next one," he wanted her to know.
He came around to the other side of the bed and crawled on with her. His back protested some at bending over to do the climb, but he ignored it. He probably wouldn't be able to move in the morning, but it was worth the price to make Faith healthy again. Covering her leg with the blanket, he then looked down at her face. Her face held a tight grimace, like she was still fighting so much pain.
"Are you in much pain?" he asked.
"Yeah. It burns all over now. Not so bad as the first time you did that though."
"Good. Progress. Let's hope since these were not as deep, then it will not hurt as much."
"Just do it," she said to him, opening her eyes.
He just wished that he could take her hurt inside of himself and spare her the pain she was going through. Placing a quick kiss on her forehead, he moved the blankets down until she was uncovered to the waist. Her body had started to sweat after the first chanting session. He hoped that would help her heal even more.
"That's all I get?" she said shakily, trying to keep a brave face.
He moved down to her lips and placed a light kiss there also. Through the mask of pain, Faith smiled at him.
"Promise me somethin'?" she asked.
"Yes?"
"When we get through this, I want to see what's underneath that exterior shell you have."
"I don't understand," he replied, not knowing what she was referring to.
Their faces were mere inches from touching. He could feel her breath against his neck, making him shiver just a little. Her hand snaked around the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss her again. Only this time it wasn't a light kiss. She acted like she wanted to devour him.
"Get it now?" she said against his lips.
"Maybe," he replied, still not exactly knowing, but guessing it had something to do with less clothes and more skin-to-skin contact.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his spell once again, not wanting her eyes to distract him from completing what he had started. Slowly he poured the liquid again, hearing it sizzle on contact. Faith almost wailed loudly, only to stop herself. His head was becoming dizzy from performing the spell so many times. He just needed one or two more tries, and he thought that should do it. Hands shaking, he performed it once more, this time watching the wound to see if it looked different. It still had some toxins present.
"One last time," he whispered.
Chanting, he poured again, this time much more than the last two times. Everything looked clear, just like the last wound. Faith had screamed a little after this last one, almost hurting him in the process with her powerful arms. He hadn't thought about how much damage she could potentially do if she wanted. But he had lucked out in the end that she had held herself still.
His limbs were shaking with exertion after the last one. Looking down at Faith, he noticed that the look on her face eased somewhat. The pain was receding. He groaned in relief, hoping that he took away all the toxins for good. He slowly lowered his body beside her, curling himself into a ball, and drifted off to sleep.
Faith awoke with a start. It was dark in the room, but not close to dawn just yet. Her body felt like it had been put through the ringer a few times. The shakes had gone. Her body was quite toasty under the blankets. Wes must have somehow gotten rid of all the bad stuff in her wounds from the demon. Then she figured out why she was so warm. Wes had snuggled up against her back after whatever spell he had pulled out of that big brain of his exhausted him. His hand was possessively resting on her hip. She vaguely remembered the bathtub and moving back into the bed. The rest was just a blur.
Wesley moved in his sleep, moving his hand to her stomach. His head lay next to her shoulder blades, so every time he breathed in and out, it tickled a little. She heard him moan a little as she shifted around, trying to find a better position.
What she didn't expect was for him to be in the middle of a nightmare. He groaned again, tightening his hold on her. Turning over to face him, she shook his shoulder lightly to bring him out. He was mumbling something about not hurting someone and then he started to shake his head no as he said the very word over and over again.
"Wes, it's a dream. Wake up. Come on."
"I'm so sorry," he murmured in response, obviously not awake at all.
"God, he even apologizes in his sleep," she said to herself.
She never thought that he would be the touchy, feely kind of guy. But as he slept on, he literally wrapped himself around her, settling his head against her breasts. No one ever clung to her in her life. And here he was doing just that. It kind of made her uncomfortable for a second, but then he settled down. Stroking the back of his head, she lay in peaceful silence for some time. It felt good to actually comfort someone and not involve sex. Her thoughts strayed to that area, since he was the one that plastered himself all over her. So she'd blame him when he woke up the next morning.
She gathered up her courage and snuck her hand up his shirt in the back just to feel what his skin was like. Since her hands were always callused from fighting, his back felt smooth and oh so touchable underneath that shirt. She wondered what other parts of him were soft and others hard.
Working her hand around the front, she found crisp hair on his belly and chest. Her breathing sped up a little as she decided to use both hands to explore. How the man made her hot and horny and he wasn't even awake floored her. She found his neck exposed, so she tasted there a little.
"Faith," she heard him say finally.
"Oops. Busted," she said to him.
"You must feel somewhat better," he replied, hands tightening around her back.
"Yeah, you could say that."
"I don't know if I have the energy. That spell took a lot out of me," he mumbled.
"Shh. Then don't talk."
Man, he talked way too much. But she liked the sound of his voice most times, unless he was lecturing her. Then she mostly tuned him out. Faith placed light kisses along his jawline. He sighed as her hands roamed his chest and back. She almost came unhinged as she tried to unbutton his shirt, popping the last buttons.
Pushing Wes over onto his back, she leaned onto him, and then realized that his back must still hurt.
"Your back?" she inquired.
"It's fine," he whispered back.
Lying flat against him, she was now skin-to-skin with him. She vaguely remembered promising him something like this, and she aimed to deliver on that promise. Licking and biting, she managed to undress him more without his help. At that point she couldn't tell whether he had drifted off to sleep again because he wasn't moving. So she bit down on his chest lightly just to get a reaction.
"That bloody hurt," he got out finally.
"Just wanted to make sure you're awake for this."
"I do believe that I am."
She thought she heard a snort of laughter in there somewhere. Since she didn't need any more foreplay and he obviously didn't have the strength to lift so much as a finger, she took things into her own hands and slid home. He moaned a little, but still let her do whatever she so pleased. And she did whatever she wanted until she had him moaning more. He even moaned her name as he finished with his pleasure. Damn, she knew she should have waited until he could participate more actively, because there was no joy for her right then. His fingers responded to her groan of disappointment though seconds later, helping her release the last of the tension in her bones. Settling herself on top of Wes, she drifted off to sleep again as his arms came up to hold her.
TBC
Next: Morning after. Back on the road again for the two. And in the future, someone asks Faith to do something she doesn't want to do.
Author notes: OK, this chapter was really difficult to write because one, it was long, which is fine normally, but there is so much going on; two, I still had to make it R rated, which isn't really as easy as it sounds. And I really don't know how far to go before it goes over the top on the rating.
Thanks: Wow, lots of reviews! I didn't think I'd get so many since this isn't exactly mainstream stuff. Thanks a whole bunch, everyone. Thanks to Illyria639, shahid, AllenPitt, Wav, Tariq, pari106, tp96 and everyone else at this site. I really am going to do a more risqué version of this puppy.
Answers to questions:
Illyria639—thanks for the pimping. Did I really just type that? I guess I'm just old or something. Don't know the lingo.
Shahid—happy ending? Did I say that? I haven't decided yet (Yeah, I know, I like them too, but ….). Yeah, there will be some more Scoobie action later.
AllenPitt—I'm not telling. My timeline? I think everything works. Please don't tell me it doesn't work. I'll cry.
Wav—Hey, when I started this crazy stuff of fic writing, I was not a Wes/Faith writer. Now I can't seem to get enough of it. I know a few authors that are really good. I can e-mail if you like. Just sayin' that I'm not the best out there.
Tariq—longer chapters? That I can do.
Pari106—Sort of that When Harry Met Sally vibe, not that I believe it for one minute about guys and gals not being able to be friends.
Tp96—a little more stuff between them. Not done yet.