~*~ The Mayor's Office ~*~
"You gotta give me something to do. There's no way I'm sleeping. Don't you need anyone dead? Or maimed? I can settle for maimed."
"You little firecracker."
"My mom used to call me that when I was little. I was always running around."
"Tomorrow, at the Ascension and all that, am I going to get to fight?"
"If everything goes smoothly, you won't have to. But how often do things go smoothly?"
"So you'll still need me in there."
~*~ The Mansion ~*~
"Wesley, go back to your Council and tell them, until the next Slayer comes along, they can close up shop. I'm not working for them anymore."
"Don't you see what's happening? Faith poisoned Angel to distract you, to keep you out of the Mayor's way, and it's working. You need a strategy."
"I have a strategy. You're not in it."
"This is mutiny."
"... I like to think of it as graduation."
~*~ The Library ~*~
Wesley hung up the phone on the checkout desk for the third time. It didn't matter that it was the middle of the night in England; the Council would want to know. Of course as far as Wesley was concerned, it really didn't matter. Travers had made it very clear in their last conversation that he was to,
*'Get that girl in line! Honestly, Wesley, you were given the opportunity of a lifetime--two slayers! The Council is evaluating your performance, and allow me to suggest that it is not inclined to be charitable.' *
Regardless of whether or not Buffy completely changed her mind, Wesley was becoming reasonably certain that his future contained a windowless desk in a London basement, stacked high with translations, and no hope of upward mobility. Buffy's lack of reason pushed to the forefront of his mind again. There bloody well had to be a way to stop the Ascension. Tossing his glasses on the checkout desk, Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a need to speak with someone, anyone, and with no one else to turn to, Wesley picked up the phone to call Cordelia.
God, Cordelia. Somehow he felt like he was letting her down with this apparent failure. But no, not really--it would be his parents that would take that attitude. Cordelia seemed much more interested in him than his work. She would understand. Realizing that some privacy might be in order, Wesley put the phone down for the fourth time and went to use the one in Giles' office.
~*~ Sunnydale High Courtyard -- Set for Graduation ~*~
Faith thought it was really amusing that Snyder had left all these carefully placed chairs and podiums unguarded. Leaning against the mike stand, she imagined all the bright shining faces in the audience in their dorky robes and stupid hats. Some little voice in the back of her head was a little pissed that there wasn't a chair for her out there.
But a much louder voice spoke up reminding Faith that it didn't matter. She was gonna be with the Big Guy on the Big Day, and it make her smile to think about all those dorky caps and gowns being part of the Mayor's lunch.
He'd told her to go home and technically, she was on her way. Keep her nose clean, that was what he wanted, and Faith was determined to do that. It was kinda like the pink dress the Mayor'd her put on today, not normally her style, but she could make it work. She could be mellow and dispassionate; there would be plenty of time later to satisfy her inner cravings. Faith was ready to test that idea now, as she headed to the library, looking for something she'd lost.
Wesley liked Cordelia, really he did. She was beautiful, vivacious and genuinely liked him. However, her worldview could be rather...limited. He hadn't been entirely successful in conveying the gravity of his situation with the Council. The image of the basement room in his worst fears swam to mind again. He didn't want to think about how much it would be like an oversized closet.
Right. Council, Cordelia, Buffy, Ascension--but not in that order. With any luck, Wesley hoped that he might die preventing the Ascension and not have to face any of it. Picking up some of the volcanologist's notes from Giles' desk, Wesley began looking for clues--must never give up. As he turned his head to the window that separated him from the main library, Wesley thought those were strange words indeed. Faith was strolling casually around the room, obviously looking for something. Very quietly, Wesley picked up a loaded crossbow from among the weapons stacked on the floor. If Wesley just waited for the right moment, she would walk in front of the door. Glasses or not, he couldn't miss. Rising, crossbow in hand, Wesley hoped that it wouldn't be necessary, hoped he could reason with Faith--mustn't give up.
Faith turned suddenly, having sensed movement. Wesley was on the opposite side of the table, pointing a crossbow at her. This could be fun - a lot of fun. Slowly, Faith allowed her big smile to subside into a more neutral one. This was also a good test of her new resolve--keeping up the attitude she thought the Mayor would like. "Well, well, well, I guess not everyone's at the mansion. What's the matter Wes, a little squicked by the vampire love? Or did they toss you out of the club?" Wesley was trying not to react, but Faith caught the involuntary flinch. Maybe they had tossed him out.
She carefully watched the crossbow, while taking a few slow steps towards the table in order to get a little closer. As Faith was about to plant both hands on top of the table, Wesley pointed the crossbow a bit more deliberately. "That's more than close enough. I've helped train you and that table would make an excellent pommel horse, no doubt. Take a step back."
Faith smiled big; definitely fun.
Taking just half a step back, Faith slowly dragged a finger along the back of a chair. "Look at you, all manly...for a change. I've watched you practice too. You're pretty good with flying objects." She gave him her best concerned frown, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I wonder exactly how good your eyesight is without the specs?" Watching Wesley's face, Faith didn't see any reaction to her speculation, but she did notice that Princess Margaret had some damn pretty eyes.
* Very carefully trying to control his breathing, Wesley fought the flight-or-flight instincts in this predator/prey situation. He felt the heat rise to his face as Faith dragged her tongue slowly along her lower lip. Actually, Wesley could feel the heat rushing to more than just his face. She was bloody well trying to entrance him like a snake. While the crossbow never wavered, the fight to remain nonplussed was not a complete success as Wesley shuffled his feet and cleared his throat.
"Faith, why are you here? I don't suppose it is to tell me that you've seen the error of your ways and you are ready to fight the Mayor?"
Her laughter was somewhat intimidating, but Faith took a step back, leaving Wesley some breathing room. "Nope, that's not why I'm here. Lost something and thought I'd try and get it back. Say, you're just the guy to ask. I lost my knife the other night killing the spider that was going to eat your face. By the way, don't I get a thank you for saving your life?"
Wesley couldn't quite keep the anger from his voice. "I'm inclined to believe that the knife went past my head, and not through it, purely by chance." He debated moving closer to the checkout desk so that he could potentially pick up the phone. That would place him between Faith and the door, which was probably a colossally bad idea. "The knife isn't here. I believe I saw Buffy with it last. Perhaps you would like to go to the mansion to retrieve it?"
"That's it, Wes?" She spread her arms wide and turned in a circle. "I come all this way and the best you can do is tell me to get lost? I'm hurt." Not bothering to control her sarcasm, Faith took a few steps towards the corner of the table, almost getting between Wesley and the door. "I don't know." She glanced behind her. "If I turn my back on you, you might just shoot." That got him. Faith could see the red rising in his face.
"I'm not in the habit of stabbing people in the back, Faith."
Tipping her head sideways onto her shoulder, she smiled. "Me neither - I usually go for the gut." There were fidgets here and there, but that wasn't the fun that Faith had been looking for. She wanted him on his knees begging for his life just like his first big mission in Sunnydale.
"Messy and inefficient. For instance, at this range, glasses or not, it would be wise for me to aim at the heart. Even if I miss, there's a reasonably good chance I would hit a lung or a major blood vessel." Wesley pointed out those facts to bolster his courage, because he was beginning to get the real sense that he wasn't going to live through the night.
"Hey, can't argue with a Watcher, can I?" Faith frowned. "Except for the part where I'm really good at it." Wesley cursed himself as he tensed and held the crossbow more tightly. Smiling, Faith shook her head, slid out a chair and sat down. "Tell you what, Wes, my boss told me to stay out of trouble, get some rest - cut back on the mayhem and murder. We're at kind of an impasse 'cause even though I'm sure I could kick your scrawny English ass, I might get a bolt in my jacket or be sore tomorrow."
Relieved only for a moment, Wesley felt his stomach roll and was aware of his heart pounding. "Yes, that's all well and good, but it doesn't fill me with a sense of trust."
Faith couldn't blame him for that one as she leaned forward and shoved one of the other chairs across the floor, knocking him off balance. The son of a bitch fired at her and it was only slayer reflexes that made sure that the crossbow bolt whizzed past her ear and not through it. Pissed at the near miss, she bounded over the chair and slammed Wesley into the floor.
And what do you know? Watcher boy was rock hard. In Faith's book, this was priceless. All prim and proper on the surface and jonesin' like a pervert for his *sacred charge*. She could see Wesley trying to put on a stiff upper lip, as he struggled in her hold. Hands above his head, she could feel him giving his all, but he didn't stand a chance against slayer strength. Wesley's breathing was becoming just a bit harsh as he finally started to calm down. In response, Faith decided to reward him. Getting up on her knees, she slowly dragged her clit over his hard cock, getting a thrill even though there were too many layers of clothing between them.
"Choices, choices." Faith pretended to think. "I could just kill you, but I think I could have more fun than that. There's always torture, but to do it right might take a while, and we wouldn't want the Scoobies coming by to rescue you. I could let you go..." She paused and watched the anger rise up in his face. "If I did that then you'd be there tomorrow to face my boss, which would be fun to watch. What do you think we should do, Wes?" Faith squirmed over him and squeezed his wrists too hard.
Wesley froze. It bloody well hurt, and he couldn't stop his teeth from gritting or the occasional gasp. But he was done begging for mercy -- it was not like it had done him any good in Sunnydale or, for that matter, anywhere else. Closing his mouth tightly, Wesley opted to be mute in whatever proceedings she was going to orchestrate.
"Oh, icy stare. Watcher has some balls." Wesley stared fixedly at her, trying not to react. Making a sound of disappointment, Faith released his hands, resting them lightly on her own thighs.
"See, this just confirms to me that you're no fun." Wesley weighed his chances of pushing Faith off and getting away--they were abysmal. "Uh-uh-uh." Faith wagged a finger in front of his face. "Just because I let those arms go doesn't mean you get to move them. If you think otherwise, there could be breaking."
Wesley remained still and didn't say anything.
"I want to hear you scream, Wes. Here's the deal--well, not really a deal, just how it's gonna be. You don't move, and I give it my best shot to make you scream. Doesn't matter if you scream or not, I let you go. You fight me, and you die." And she'd keep the deal, proving the new kind of person that she was. She could see him weighing the options and then finally nod. It wasn't like he actually had much of a choice.
"Good boy." Faith was smiling wickedly, and she could see Wesley trying to brace himself for whatever pain was coming. That was okay, because Faith felt pretty confident that her plan was probably the last thing he was expecting. Sliding back a little, she had his pants open in less than five seconds and got the pleasure of watching those big blue eyes get bigger. Letting her fingers trail up and down the cotton briefs, Faith watched his face go stony. Upping the stakes, she pulled him out.
"Not bad, Wes--not porn star sized like Xander--but not bad at all." She fisted his cock while letting the fingers of her other hand play lightly over his sac. She thought the shade of red on Wesley's face was really pretty.
It had rather been a while since Wesley had felt a hand other than his own where Faith's was. Undeniably, Wesley didn't hate the experience so far. However, there was a scene from "The Serpent and the Rainbow" that kept playing in him mind--a scene where another man with his balls in a precarious position needed to scream for a sociopath, a scene that also involved a spike and a hammer.
"So Wes, do you know how strong a slayer really is?" Wesley locked his jaw, but couldn't keep his eyes from getting wider. Faith's fingers were playing delightful games. Trying to remain calm, Wesley was waiting for the opportunity to shove her off.
Oh shit. The thought ran through his head as Faith slid back his foreskin and took the head of his cock into her mouth. She was watching him, obviously waiting for a bigger reaction, which Wesley denied her. Then there were teeth, and Wesley couldn't help an involuntary gasp.
"Not good enough, Wes. I want a scream; give it to me and this can end right now."
Absently, Wesley wondered what the Council would advise in a situation like this. As the Watchers' Diaries did not cover circumstances such as these, Wesley decided to devise his own solution. "Coward."
* Faith was trying to remember why she wasn't plunging a knife into his gut. Applying some serious force to the base of his cock, she watched him suck in a breath. "Want to try that again?"
"I'm just suggesting that if you want this to be a real contest of wills perhaps you should drop your trousers and turn around." Faith couldn't believe that he had said that with a completely straight face. Realizing that surprise must be written over her own, she laughed and got up on her knees, unzipping her tight pants, slowly pushing them down. Wesley was still playing stoic and didn't react to the view.
Sliding one leg out of the confining material, Faith smirked. "Just in case you were getting any stupid ideas of trying to flip me while my pants were down."
* Wesley would deny to anyone that that was what he'd had in mind, but it wasn't like he had time for any actual thought. Faith had rearranged herself so that her knees were on either side of his head. As she leaned forward to take his cock into her mouth again, he detected the heady smell of a woman aroused. Lifting his head, Wesley ran his tongue over swollen lips, and lavished attention on Faith's clit. He smiled when she gave an involuntary buck and then lowered herself closer to his ministrations. Unable to suppress his own groan, Welsey tried to remain still as she slowly took the length of him into her mouth.
Faith was surprised, in a good way. All those fancy words and languages had been good exercise for Wesley's tongue. He was mind numbingly slow, but putting pressure in the right places, driving her crazy. Realizing that she might get into this and lose the bet, Faith began to speed up her own motions, intent on sending him over first.
While he should have been wishing not to be in this situation at all, Wesley found himself wishing for less clothing on the both of them. The blood was rushing through his body, making him sweat. Wesley was taking pleasure in both Faith's actions and reactions. She was undulating above him, while her head bobbed up and down his length. It was arousing and frustrating at the same time, because he could only raise his head so much to pleasure her. Ignoring the ban against the use of his hands, Wesley reached up and pulled Faith's hips down, only allowing her to move back and forth as he went to work with lips, tongue and teeth.
It fucking pissed Faith off that Wesley was good with his mouth. She couldn't help but writhe under the attention. Who'd have thought any woman would have let him get this close? Cheating was in order since she could feel things moving faster inside herself. While one hand stroked the base of his cock, the other began gently massaging his balls and her tongue dug into the slit on the head of his cock. Faith could feel Wesley fighting to the urge to push up his hips and fuck her mouth--always the gentleman, her watcher. She didn't feel the same compunctions as she moved her own hips faster.
His attention squarely divided between that which he was giving and that which he was receiving, Wesley became more aggressive, sucking hard on Faith's clit and gently scraping with his teeth. The hand on his sac was beginning to undo him. Turnabout was fair play. Snaking a hand up Faith's side, he sought and found a full breast still trapped beneath layers of clothing. With thumb and forefinger, Wesley began pinching the swollen nipple.
"Oh Fuck!" Faith let out a series of gasps as her body writhed uncontrollably as she came. The bastard didn't let her go. With slow hands and mouth, he was pushing her again. She knew she had lost the bet, but she still wanted that scream. Returning to the task at hand, she pulled Wesley deep into her throat, swallowing around the head. Faith felt him pause, and give a little gasp. As soon as she began to hum, she was tasting and swallowing hot salt, holding his bucking hips, but not hearing a sound other than a low grunt.
"Faith... " It was a low and tender whisper. Wesley had not intended it that way, but he was trapped in the momentary bliss. He could feel her stiffen above him and roll off.
Her face was filled with something between fear and rage, which he didn't understand at all. "Faith, it's not too late. You don't have to go back to the Mayor--"
"Shut the fuck up!" Wesley was pinned to the floor again, her hand mercilessly squeezing his windpipe. He tried to gasp out a word or two to calm her, but she was shouting at him.
* "Shut the fuck up!" She needed control of this situation, right now. Maybe cool and collected wasn't her thing. No fucking way did she just lose to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. She wondered how victorious he was gonna feel when she snapped his neck.
There was a sound--one of the big outside doors slamming shut down the hall. Could be fun watching the Scoobies find her with Wesley's head in her hands. The footsteps were still faint, but getting louder. Jumping up, Faith pulled on her pants and started heading for the exit behind the stacks. "Looks like you won tonight, Wes. I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow to hear you scream--Ascension and all. Tell Buffy I want my knife back."
* Wesley's heart was still pounding for a full minute after she left, and then he heard the footsteps. Still covered in the physical signs of Faith's pleasure, he glanced down at his open trousers and disheveled clothes. Jumping up, Wesley dashed behind the counter, pulling up his zipper. With a last minute thought, he reached up and snatched his glasses.
"I'll start some coffee," Xander said.
"Yes, that would be good. I've got to start on the volcanologist's notes." Giles replied.
With relief, Wesley heard the other men go into the small office, and he made his way quietly around the counter and out of the library. He didn't understand Faith's reaction at all, but he was beginning to understand what he needed to do.
Buffy spoke without turning around. "The council is not welcome here. I have no time for orders. If I need someone to scream like a woman I'll give you a call."
"I'm not here for the council. Just tell me how I can help."