Trend Setta

[_badass_slayer_]

(Continued from here.)

I can't believe I'm doin' this. Faith, badass slayer extraordinaire, is puttin' on pink sweatpants. I think Hell just froze over, cuz ordinarily? You wouldn't catch me dead in a pair of these things. Why I agreed to take the fuckin' things is beyond me, yo. Didn't really have a choice either way, I guess. Seein' as how

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[watcher_pryce]

I was back to work while Faith was still wrestling her inner fashion police. Should I tell her that Cordelia hated that thing? Especially the color? Which was probably why she'd never really came over to get it back. Sometimes she used it here after we'd come back from a fight and we were all too exhausted to really move. During the day's Angel was to busy chasing Darla and Drusilla all over town. I'd never thought I'd' miss those days.

A ping from my computer signaling I had mail, made me look up. Hmmm, message from Brad. Didn't know the git even had a computer, let alone knew how to use on. Then again, he could've pushed one of his lackey's to do it for him. I clicked on the envelope and started to read the mail. It made my blood turn cold. Apparently Angel has been using black magic again, to try and get his son back. Had they not learned anything from the last incident with Fred? Good lord, that vampire is going to kill us all if he keeps this up.

I as about to mail Brad back when the door opened and Faith stormed out. Wearing pink sweats, and a far, far to big shirt. Why doesn't she wear that shirt over the sweats? At least they'd cover them up. A lot. I raise my eyebrow as she points a finger at me and give her a dry look. "Me? Say anything?" I look at her, glancing all the way down and then back up again. I don't have to say anything, I think the expression on my face says it all. She should be glad I'm not laughing. "Well, don't you look all pretty." Oops, I guess I can't help myself sometimes.

[_badass_slayer_]

"Well, don't you look all pretty."

If he hadn't just let me borrow the clothes, I would be wipin' the floor with him right now; wipe that smirk right off his smug face.

But, hey, I'm all big with the stayin' cool around Wes, so, I'll just pack up what I need on patrol, and go take it out on some poor, unsuspectin' vamp instead.

Rollin' my eyes at his bad attempt to keep from laughin', I grab a stake and make my way towards the door. "Very funny. Ha, ha, ha. All right, Funny Man, I'm gonna hit the streets, see what kind of nasties are out tonight. And you better not still be sittin' at your computer when I get back, cuz you need sleep wicked bad. With no Slayer in the house? You should sleep just fine."

I'm not stupid. I know he's buggin' over me being here and everything, and the way I figure it? I can work out my frustrations, and Wes can have some time to himself. Of course, I realize he's more than likely gonna sit on his ass all night, with his eyes glued to the screen, but it's worth a shot.

However, it's kinda hard to look imposing when you're wearin' hot pink sweatpants.

[watcher_pryce]

Shaking my head at her expression, I turn back toward the computer while she rummages around my weapons again. Of course her being a Slayer, she only grabs a stake. I'm not going to tell her to take some other weapon as well, I'm not her watcher. Besides, if one has to believe Council doctrine? She *is* the weapon.

"Hmmm?" Frowning, I look up at her, trying to make sense of what she's saying. I can't sit behind my computer when she gets back? Since when does she get to tell me what to do? I don't think so. Besides, I've to much work to do, to much research, to much...to make up for.

"Just be careful out there. Just because you had very little problem with those vampires in the warehouse, doesn't mean you're not rusty. And watch your footwork." Making some notes, I narrow my eyes at them and then look up at her again. "Happy Slayer, shouldn't be too hard to come up with some witty banter in those sweats." There is some poor demon or vampire out there tonight who's going to be in a lot of trouble. Poor sod.

[_badass_slayer_]

"Just be careful out there. Just because you had very little problem with those vampires in the warehouse, doesn't mean you're not rusty. And watch your footwork."

There he goes again...actin' all Watcherly towards me.

"I got it covered," I say, holdin' back the nasty retort that I want to say.

He scribbles some shit on his scratch pad, then addresses me again. "Happy Slayer, shouldn't be too hard to come up with some witty banter in those sweats."

Happy Slayer? The hell does he come up with this crap?

Grinnin' wolfishly at him, I walk back over to his desk, leanin' a hip on its edge. "Doesn't matter what I'm wearin', Wes. I always get the job done," I reply. Then, I get up and leave.

Time to slay.

[watcher_pryce]

Frowning, I give her arse a disapproving look as it parks itself on my desk. Really, we've chairs, why does she feel the need to sit on my desk? Or half sit, doesn't matter, it's still my desk. "I'm sure you do," I mutter, turning back to the work I was doing. Well, work, it's not as though I've really some work is it?

Then the door closes and I look up, blinking over at said door. I suppose now would be the perfect time to get up and get a drink. Since she's not around to give me those disapproving glares. Not that those bother me, I can do whatever the hell I want. She doesn't get to tell me what to do or what not. No matter how well meant.

There's a thought. Faith, meaning well. The girl who tied me to a kitchen chair and quite gleefully used my skin as carving canvas. She seems changed though. Only time will tell I guess, I'll be quite weary until then. Which, I suppose, is understandable. At least I think so.

Pursing my lips, I glance up from the computer screen and look over to the fridge. Then at the small cabinet which holds my liquor. Just one drink never hurt anyone, now did it? And she really doesn't get to tell me whether or not I can drink something. Right? Right. Nodding at that, I get over, grab a glass, a bottle of whiskey and pad back to my desk.

Putting both down, I move back to the screen and stare at the e-mails.