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Continued from Here“Bloody Slayers and their enthusiasm.” She’d jumped out of my arms, swayed and before I could grab her tumbled back against the wall. She must’ve hit her head or some such because she was out like a light. Muttering under my breath I picked her up and slide toward the exit. The voices behind us were getting louder and louder,
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Oh, sure. I had changed a lot over the years. Friends, family and other things influencing those changes. But the basics, the fundament which made Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was still the same. I would always be wanting to be proper, unable to forget over twenty years of upbringing to have the drilled into me. I’d always be wanting to do good, I’d always be wanting to get praise, though I’d never admit to that. And I’d always be annoying her from time to time in one way or the other.
“I just hope you can live with me.”
And wasn’t that the heart of the matter. I’d learned from the time sitting by her bedside. Mulling over things. Thinking about her and her faults and her mistakes. And my faults and my mistakes. And her many, many good qualities and had come to the realization a long time ago that she was very much worth it.
“You’re what?” My eyebrows rose at that remark and my hand involuntarily came up to rub the scar on my throat. “I think I can manage,” I said weakly. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I don’t want anyone near my throat ever again with something sharp. Sometimes not even myself. I guess there are some thing you can never get over.
Faith had already moved onto another subject altogether. Namely this vacation she was so dead set on. For Christmas. “Switzerland is very expensive,” I point out. “And I don’t think you’d like it there. Its’ very po-- Denmark?” Kinky sex things in Denmark? “What kinky s-- Kinky things in Denmark?”
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Even if he were my watcher, I watched his body language; usually his movements spoke volumes, so much more than his words ever did. In the beginning, our beginning, he’d been awkward, now he was skilled and graceful, he had evolved, not that he’d believe me, of course he’d die of shock at my using more than a one syllable word, but I’d learned a lot from him, more than I figured he’d learned from me.
Point was, he got me, and I hope one day, I’d get him.
Maybe one day, he’d allow me to shave him, I think I dreamed about it while I was under, just the idea of doing something that intimate, with something I could use as a weapon, just made me feel … how the fuck did it make me feel, I couldn’t put it in words, but it made him uneasy, he reeked of that, a fear deep inside, and I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, there would be other things.
“Okay, can we talk about where we’re going to go?” I began moving, excitedly. “Denmark was the only other country I could remember, I’m not so good with geography, well except where your body is concerned. I know where all your hills and valleys are.”
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“Well there are always some states over here. There’s… there’s Alaska,” I point out, a smirk growing on my face. I don’t think she’d get much Christmas joy out of going to Alaska. Maybe we should go to, I don’t know, New York? Not much snow there I think. Not in the city anyway. It’s not as though I know.
“Maybe we should get an atlas for this and see where there’s a lot of snow and Christmas activity, though I doubt they’d put any Christmas activity in Atlases. So maybe we should look up a travel agency instead?”
I actually have to breathe as this point, her excitement catching up with me. I never cared much about Christmas either way, but I care about her caring about it. Which probably makes more sense in my head so I’d better not say it out loud. Just like those hills and valleys of my body she knows so.. well?
My eyebrow raises at that and I look at her amused. We’ve made love twice before she fell in a coma and after that… it was nearly a year of my worrying about her. Taking care of her. Helping the nurses take care of her. I do know every crook and scar and valley and hill of her body. “I’m sure you’ve a lot more exploring to do before you can get away with saying that,” I point out innocently.
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Leaning in, I kiss it, “See, that’s changed. Bet I can have a lot of fun find the other differences. Guess I’ve kinda changed too,” I laugh a little as I pat my flatter than normal belly. Living on IV’s well, one does tend to lose some weight, “I need to get into fightin’ shape again. I’m sure you can help me … work out. But let’s figure out where to go.”
I want him so badly right now, but he’s not going to win on this one, we are going away for Christmas.
“Fuck the atlas,” I sigh, “too much like research. Let’s just go on a road trip, drive to the other coast, you know like New England like, or maybe Canada. We can fight demons on the way, and when a place feels all Christmas like we can stay for awhile, and I’d like to see New York at Christmas time, we can do all that, and then find some bed and breakfast place. Hell, I’ll even show you B’ town, show you where I grew up. Then we can travel overseas next year. Deal?”
As I spoke my palm had found its way to his warm stomach, rubbing absent-mindedly in slow circles.
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Isn’t that was Christmases are for, I think amused.
“Yes, I guess we’ve both changed,” I agree, glancing at her stomach when she pats it. One has to wonder though if the changes we’ve made had more impact physically or mentally. Knowing the two of us, we’ll get out physical changed sorted out sooner then any mental shifts. Neither of us deals well with those, but if we have each other now? Maybe, just maybe it’ll work out.
My eyebrow raises when she tells me to do something very indemnifying with my atlas. “Contrary to popular belief,” I murmur dryly, “I have not yet become so desperate at to make love to my books, Faith.” I smirk at her, one that grows into a soft smile when her enthusiasm returns with a vengeance. It’s addictive, the way she can get carried away, almost enough to throw caution in the wind and just do it. I’d not feel very comfortable though, I need to prepare, one annoying habit I’ve not been able to shed. One of many, no doubt.
“I’d like that,” I say, cupping her face and rubbing my thumb over her cheek. “To see Boston and New York. I’ve never been there.”
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“Like I meant that literally,” I shrugged in that boastful way one shrugs his or her body when they’ve done something great, I wanted him to see I could use big words as well.
“Yeah, well change, isn’t that what they say the only sure thing that and taxes, but then I’ve never paid taxes, speaking of taxes, slayers should get paid, I mean, watchers only watch and they get paid, so yeah, slayers should get paid cause we do all the hard work.”
With that I fell over laughing. “I’m working on channelling B’” I announced, referring to my last comment, although deep down I did believe we should get paid, but I was finally going to be the rouge slayer again, and he would be my rouge watcher, and he’d be ostracized.
“We could get paid for killing stuff,” I offered, knowing he was worry watcher about the cost of things, and didn’t want me stealing stuff.
Taking his hand, that had been on my cheek, in both of mine, I squeezed it.
“This ‘ill be the shit,” I began, “you and me on a road trip, slayin’ fuckin’,” I stopped, and blushed, “yeah, yeah, I know, but I’m just stoked. Now go do your watcher thing, and find us a place to go to kill a beastie, and then come back to bed,” I grinned patting the space beside me, “a watcher’s work is never done,” and it was about time I did my watcher.
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Bad in Sunnydale, then in a coma, then in jail and then in a coma again. They’ve outlined her life - and mine with it - often enough for me to drone it up with them should they do it again. After the not so nice chat I had with Travers though, I don’t think they will. My ‘suggestion’s came through loud and clear and I’ve no doubt that were I ever to set foot on Council property again, I’d be dead.
“If….that is what you want,” I murmur with some confusion. Of course she should be paid if she worked for the Council. Giles and I have been stating that for years now. “But then I wont be able too…” My confusion grows when she suddenly bursts out laughing and I’m starting to wonder if getting her out of that hospital was such a wise move.
“Killing stuff, yes.” Now we’re not working for the Council? And let me add an hooray here for that fact, but she’s still confusing me greatly. I was about to cut into her steamroller words, ask about what she wanted now, when I had to pause. Faith. Blushing. Dear lord, there’s a sight I’d never thought I’d see. A grin breaks out and I can’t help it, I have to touch it. Side my fingertips over soft, hot skin.
“Doing my watcher thing can wait,” I tell her, realizing she’s been ordering me around since she woke up. All fine and well, but now it was my turn. “killing those so called beasties can wait. And planning our trip can wait a little bit longer as well, Faith. I’m supposed to be resting too, as per Slayers orders, and I’m not moving from this bed until I feel fully rested. Just like you. Now, did you want to slip into something more comfortable and slide under the covers to rest, or did you have other things in mind? Mind you, if you do, they‘d better have something to do with ‘resting‘ also.”
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