milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Faith comes in from outdoors, looking quietly pleased, and acquires dinner and coffee, then curls up in front of the fireplace.

Tomorrow, there will be blood and violence and possibly all manner of woe. Tonight...tonight was good.

As Alain would say, it is well.

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Faith meets his rock-god eyes with her most effective 'Oversexed Slayer' look.

"Oo baby," he says softly, then chuckles. "Be nice, Faithful. I'm trying to be a good boy."

"You are good. You're the best."

He beams at her. "Thank you, darling."

She smiles back at him, warm and soft. "Anytime, love."

He hugs her and kisses her cheek.

She returns both hug and kiss, leaning against his shoulder with a little sigh.

He holds her gently.

"I saw you when you were a little kid, and I still have wicked thoughts involving you, champagne, strawberries and copious amounts of whipped cream," Faith says into his shoulder. "I'm a sick, sick girl."

He laughs. "Sixteen is not a little kid. And I like strawberries."

"You were sixteen? You looked about twelve."

"I looked about twelve until I was twenty-two," he says dryly.

Faith blinks.

Then grins.

"So, about a week before we met, then?"

"I'm twenty-six!"

Faith looks very dubious.

"I'd show you my driver's license if I hadn't lost my wallet in the crash. But you can ask Liam. He's two years and six months older than me, almost exactly.

"But, my love, I want to say good night to Sethie and give Bartleby pleasant dreams, so adieu, parting is such sweet sorrow." He kisses her cheek again. "Good night."

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