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seldearThe Max Factor
"So," Buffy Summers said as she sat down in the leather-upholstered chair opposite the desk. "Evil law firm of doom, huh?"
Faith regarded the girl opposite her and reminded herself to hold onto her temper. It was saying a lot that they were in the same room and not taking big chunks out of each other. Mind you, it was saying a lot that Buffy had come to LA after hearing that Faith was working at Wolfram and Hart with not one, but two of Buffy's ex-squeezes.
The girl had serious control issues. Witness her behaviour after the Slaying spree that sent everything off wrong.
Faith, however, was working very hard to convince herself that Buffy wasn't here to chew her out, bite her head off, or accuse her of undermining her authority and stealing her boyfriends. Strangely enough, it wasn't working real well.
"It pays the rent," she said, mendaciously. It did a whole heap more things than just 'pay the rent' but she wasn't about to tell B the full range of perks that came with working at Wolfram and Hart's LA office. This was Faith's gig. Her very own, never-before-been-occupied-by-any-other-Slayer-let-alone-B gig, and she was just a leetle protective of it.
"And the whole 'I am wanted by the law' thing?"
"Gunn fixed it up."
"He fixed it up?"
"I'm out on parole, character witness by the CEO and two heads of department at a reputable law firm." Faith leaned forward as Buffy digested this. "Look, you don't like seeing me, here - fine, I can deal with that. Just get this business all over and done with and then you can get out of here and never have to see my face again."
Okay, so she was prickly. It wasn't like she didn't have reason. They weren't enemies anymore, but they weren't chums either. And they never would be.
Faith had never had siblings. She supposed that B was the closest thing to a sister - except for the fact that their relationship was all bitching and no giggles.
"I didn't come here to fight. Or argue. Or quarrel."
"Or beat the shit out of me for working with not one but two of your ex's and not being good and invisible in prison?" Faith asked acidly.
B barely hesitated. "Or do any of the things we're known for doing to each other."
Okay, so Faith wasn't going to have to get kung fu on B's ass. One relief, anyway, the office would remain pristinely intact. That didn't mean B could be trusted. "Okay, so what did you come here to do?"
*
"Anyway, Giles is trying to get the council up and running, and Willow said that you'd come down here to fight the good fight with Angel, and I figured..." Buffy fingered one of the half-dozen shot glasses that sat in front of her, and glanced over her shoulder at the snake-hipped Hispanic man who'd just sauntered past.
Faith grinned. It didn't look as though Buffy had been living the abstinent life while in Europe. Nice to have it confirmed. The old B would never have ogled a random man sidewise.
"Drink up, B," Faith advised, indicating the first of the six shots - a lurid blue colour with a creamy liqueur on top. "You'll need some alcohol in your stomach for when the enchiladas arrive."
In the spirit of 'hanging out' - as B put it, they'd come out to dinner - on the company account. Faith hadn't even had to argue much with the big Broody. Which was a relief. Demons, monsters and the undead she could handle in her sleep, but she freaked when Angel got into his role as CEO of 'the Law Firm of Doom' as Buffy had so charmingly phrased it.
"I'll need some alcohol...?"
"Don't look put-upon, B. Just drink it."
Instead of drinking it, B stared at her. "'Put upon'? What are you, Miss Manners or something?"
Oops. "Wesley-ism," she explained. "Drink up."
Buffy inspected the shot from all angles, but the look in her eyes was penetrating. "Don't think I'm not going to ask what's going on there..."
"B, there's nothing to tell," Faith said, exasperated. "Me, Slayer; him, Watcher. How much was there to tell about you and Giles?" When B glared at her, Faith rapped her fingers on the tabletop. "Drink!"
B frowned, but pursed her lips and drank the shot. The glass clattered on the brightly patterned wood as she dropped it and wheezed frantically. Faith grinned a Cheshire grin as Buffy waved a finger in her face, spluttering.
"Ugh! That was...utterly..."
"Next one's better." With her fingertips, she edged the next one towards B - a garish red, yellow, and green concoction.
"It would have to be," Buffy retorted. But she drank the next one, which was a good indicator that she was moderately willing to trust Faith - at least when it came to drink choices.
The enchilada platter was made for four. It served the two Slayers more than adequately as they picked through meat and vegetable bits, dared each other to eat the jalapenos, and made fun of the table of businessmen who were getting seriously smashed over in the corner. And discussed Slayer stuff. Like demons and Watchers and Councils, Buffy's Slayerettes and Angel's gang, boiling seas and eclipses and other signs of the Apocalypse, and whether the guys in Europe really were more romantic than the guys in America.
It was kinda nice to sit with B and talk shop. The good old times that had never been in Sunnydale.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that B had come to LA, after all. Even if the job with the Evil Law Firm of Doom was Faith's and it was going to stay that way.
When they finally got out of the restaurant, they were full and cheerfully tipsy and 'the bestest buds' as Dawn would have put it. Or so B averred.
"Bestest buds?" Faith questioned, aware that she was laughing a little more freely because of the large amounts of alcohol in her system. "Dawnie said that?"
"No," B scolded. "Dawnie would say that if she was here. But she's not. So she can't." She took a deep breath. "Okay, we've had dinner. What's next?"
That was easy.
Faith dug around in Fred's Hello Kitty backpack. For some inexplicable reason this morning, she and Fred had decided to swap backpacks. No, actually, exasperating Wes might have had something to do with Faith's cheerful upending of her Angst Kitten backpack on his office floor. Fred had spotted a Pez dispenser that led to a discussion of the contents of backpacks, which led to a discussion of the actual backpacks, which led to a swap of the backpacks...
Except that now she couldn't find which zippered pocket she'd stuffed the makeup into... Aha!
Faith brandished the item before Buffy's eyes.
Buffy took the small black cylinder from her. "Max Factor Liquid Eyeliner. Black, double-zero." She looked up, "And now that I've read that, what are we going to do?"
Faith rolled her eyes and snatched the eyeliner back. She stepped aside as the drunken businessmen from the restaurant ambled, staggered, or stumbled their way out of the restaurant. "We're going clubbing. No teenybopper stuff..."
"Says the girl with the Hello Kitty backpack."
"Hey, you asked what's next, I'm telling you. We'll dance until dawn. And stake any vamps we come across along the way."
"Slayage and partyage," B approved. "I like. Lead the way."
They went.
*
The curtains in Angel's office were wide open, allowing the morning sun to stream through them with burning intensity.
Wesley frowned. Although the vampire no longer had to beware of the sunlight when inside the building, it was usual for him to shut the curtains at night. Puzzled, he took two steps into the room, intending to leave the translation on the desk since neither CEO, nor secretary, appeared to be in the office yet.
A giggle caught his attention, and he moved around the desk, blinking at the sight before him.
Two young women lay on the floor behind the desk, one blonde, and one brunette, sunbathing in the office as though it were a beach. They were dressed in bikinis that left nothing to the imagination, spread out on brightly coloured beach towels, and wore dark sunglasses, hiding their eyes.
"Damn," Faith uttered, regarding him with a pout. "Wrong one."
"I'm surprised at you, Buffy," Wesley managed after his heart started beating again. Either one of the two girls would have caused a temporary arrhythmia. Together, they were dynamite.
"Me? It was Faith's idea!"
"That's right," Faith chimed in, mock-disgustedly. "Blame the ex-con."
He rubbed a hand over his mouth as he regarded them, reminding his libido that they were Slayers and quite capable of doing him significant damage if he put a finger wrong. Or a word wrong. Possibly even an eyeball.
"I realise you're doing the view a favour, Faith," he began.
"And it's a very nice view, isn't it, Wes?" Faith tilted her head back enough so he could see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Damn the girl and her innuendos!
"...but I believe you had training this morning?"
One hand waved languidly in the air. "Skippit-dot-com!"
"Faith..."
"Wes," she whined, "I can spar against Buffy later this morning when we've finished getting our rays."
"You could get your rays at a proper beach instead of turning Angel's office into Playboy Mansion," Wesley told her dryly. Vaguely, he was aware of Buffy's stare at the exchange between him and Faith and hoped his flush was not too visible to her. Or his body's instinctive reaction to the sight of the two athletic young women 'flaunting it' before him. "This is LA. There are beaches everywhere."
Faith sighed and did his instincts no favours as she rolled over, presenting him with a view straight down her cleavage. "Wesley, tell me one thing?"
"Yes." At least he managed the monosyllable, even if it was forced out between clenched teeth.
"Why would I go to a beach and miss the chance to get a rise out of you?" She cocked a finger at his groin, and this time he did flush. His body definitely had a mind of its own.
Buffy chuckled. "Bad Watcher. No biscuit!"
Faith snorted and twisted around to look at the blonde. "Now who's picking up Britishisms from their Watcher?"
Very well. If she was going to dish it out, so would he. "If you want a rise out of me, Faith," he retorted, "There are more opportune times to get it." He waited long enough to catch her startled expression, and to enjoy the way Buffy's mouth dropped open. "Up! Out!"
"He's bossy," Faith sighed in mock-annoyance.
"I'll say!"
They sighed, pulled themselves off the floor, dusted each other off with exaggerated care, and tossed their towels over their shoulders. All at a very leisurely pace.
He intercepted more than one sly glance from Faith. The little bint enjoyed getting under his skin, and no mistake. He glared at her, and she became all innocence.
Then they put on their shoes.
Buffy, at least, had chosen flat-soled beach sandals for this venture. Not so Faith. Faith had stilettos; black, strappy ones that accentuated the curve of her legs.
Dear God, sweet Jesus, and holy Mary...
He wasn't usually one for blasphemy, but it came so easily... With a saunter that mocked Wesley with every sway of the hips, the girls walked to the door and pulled it open.
One very surprised vampire stared back at them.
Faith never missed a beat.
"Good morning, Mr. Angel," she carolled sweetly.
"Hey, Angel," Buffy added.
They kept walking. Angel's jaw was wide open, but no sound was coming out as the two girls sashayed past him and out into the antechamber beyond.
Wesley noticed that the vampire's eyes followed the girls - probably specifically Buffy - out into the corridor beyond Harmony's office before he turned back to his colleague. He looked only about as poleaxed as Wesley felt as Wesley dropped into the chair opposite Angel's desk and put his head in his hands.
"Should I ask?"
"Please don't."
* fin *
"So," Buffy Summers said as she sat down in the leather-upholstered chair opposite the desk. "Evil law firm of doom, huh?"
Faith regarded the girl opposite her and reminded herself to hold onto her temper. It was saying a lot that they were in the same room and not taking big chunks out of each other. Mind you, it was saying a lot that Buffy had come to LA after hearing that Faith was working at Wolfram and Hart with not one, but two of Buffy's ex-squeezes.
The girl had serious control issues. Witness her behaviour after the Slaying spree that sent everything off wrong.
Faith, however, was working very hard to convince herself that Buffy wasn't here to chew her out, bite her head off, or accuse her of undermining her authority and stealing her boyfriends. Strangely enough, it wasn't working real well.
"It pays the rent," she said, mendaciously. It did a whole heap more things than just 'pay the rent' but she wasn't about to tell B the full range of perks that came with working at Wolfram and Hart's LA office. This was Faith's gig. Her very own, never-before-been-occupied-by-any-other-Slayer-let-alone-B gig, and she was just a leetle protective of it.
"And the whole 'I am wanted by the law' thing?"
"Gunn fixed it up."
"He fixed it up?"
"I'm out on parole, character witness by the CEO and two heads of department at a reputable law firm." Faith leaned forward as Buffy digested this. "Look, you don't like seeing me, here - fine, I can deal with that. Just get this business all over and done with and then you can get out of here and never have to see my face again."
Okay, so she was prickly. It wasn't like she didn't have reason. They weren't enemies anymore, but they weren't chums either. And they never would be.
Faith had never had siblings. She supposed that B was the closest thing to a sister - except for the fact that their relationship was all bitching and no giggles.
"I didn't come here to fight. Or argue. Or quarrel."
"Or beat the shit out of me for working with not one but two of your ex's and not being good and invisible in prison?" Faith asked acidly.
B barely hesitated. "Or do any of the things we're known for doing to each other."
Okay, so Faith wasn't going to have to get kung fu on B's ass. One relief, anyway, the office would remain pristinely intact. That didn't mean B could be trusted. "Okay, so what did you come here to do?"
*
"Anyway, Giles is trying to get the council up and running, and Willow said that you'd come down here to fight the good fight with Angel, and I figured..." Buffy fingered one of the half-dozen shot glasses that sat in front of her, and glanced over her shoulder at the snake-hipped Hispanic man who'd just sauntered past.
Faith grinned. It didn't look as though Buffy had been living the abstinent life while in Europe. Nice to have it confirmed. The old B would never have ogled a random man sidewise.
"Drink up, B," Faith advised, indicating the first of the six shots - a lurid blue colour with a creamy liqueur on top. "You'll need some alcohol in your stomach for when the enchiladas arrive."
In the spirit of 'hanging out' - as B put it, they'd come out to dinner - on the company account. Faith hadn't even had to argue much with the big Broody. Which was a relief. Demons, monsters and the undead she could handle in her sleep, but she freaked when Angel got into his role as CEO of 'the Law Firm of Doom' as Buffy had so charmingly phrased it.
"I'll need some alcohol...?"
"Don't look put-upon, B. Just drink it."
Instead of drinking it, B stared at her. "'Put upon'? What are you, Miss Manners or something?"
Oops. "Wesley-ism," she explained. "Drink up."
Buffy inspected the shot from all angles, but the look in her eyes was penetrating. "Don't think I'm not going to ask what's going on there..."
"B, there's nothing to tell," Faith said, exasperated. "Me, Slayer; him, Watcher. How much was there to tell about you and Giles?" When B glared at her, Faith rapped her fingers on the tabletop. "Drink!"
B frowned, but pursed her lips and drank the shot. The glass clattered on the brightly patterned wood as she dropped it and wheezed frantically. Faith grinned a Cheshire grin as Buffy waved a finger in her face, spluttering.
"Ugh! That was...utterly..."
"Next one's better." With her fingertips, she edged the next one towards B - a garish red, yellow, and green concoction.
"It would have to be," Buffy retorted. But she drank the next one, which was a good indicator that she was moderately willing to trust Faith - at least when it came to drink choices.
The enchilada platter was made for four. It served the two Slayers more than adequately as they picked through meat and vegetable bits, dared each other to eat the jalapenos, and made fun of the table of businessmen who were getting seriously smashed over in the corner. And discussed Slayer stuff. Like demons and Watchers and Councils, Buffy's Slayerettes and Angel's gang, boiling seas and eclipses and other signs of the Apocalypse, and whether the guys in Europe really were more romantic than the guys in America.
It was kinda nice to sit with B and talk shop. The good old times that had never been in Sunnydale.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that B had come to LA, after all. Even if the job with the Evil Law Firm of Doom was Faith's and it was going to stay that way.
When they finally got out of the restaurant, they were full and cheerfully tipsy and 'the bestest buds' as Dawn would have put it. Or so B averred.
"Bestest buds?" Faith questioned, aware that she was laughing a little more freely because of the large amounts of alcohol in her system. "Dawnie said that?"
"No," B scolded. "Dawnie would say that if she was here. But she's not. So she can't." She took a deep breath. "Okay, we've had dinner. What's next?"
That was easy.
Faith dug around in Fred's Hello Kitty backpack. For some inexplicable reason this morning, she and Fred had decided to swap backpacks. No, actually, exasperating Wes might have had something to do with Faith's cheerful upending of her Angst Kitten backpack on his office floor. Fred had spotted a Pez dispenser that led to a discussion of the contents of backpacks, which led to a discussion of the actual backpacks, which led to a swap of the backpacks...
Except that now she couldn't find which zippered pocket she'd stuffed the makeup into... Aha!
Faith brandished the item before Buffy's eyes.
Buffy took the small black cylinder from her. "Max Factor Liquid Eyeliner. Black, double-zero." She looked up, "And now that I've read that, what are we going to do?"
Faith rolled her eyes and snatched the eyeliner back. She stepped aside as the drunken businessmen from the restaurant ambled, staggered, or stumbled their way out of the restaurant. "We're going clubbing. No teenybopper stuff..."
"Says the girl with the Hello Kitty backpack."
"Hey, you asked what's next, I'm telling you. We'll dance until dawn. And stake any vamps we come across along the way."
"Slayage and partyage," B approved. "I like. Lead the way."
They went.
*
The curtains in Angel's office were wide open, allowing the morning sun to stream through them with burning intensity.
Wesley frowned. Although the vampire no longer had to beware of the sunlight when inside the building, it was usual for him to shut the curtains at night. Puzzled, he took two steps into the room, intending to leave the translation on the desk since neither CEO, nor secretary, appeared to be in the office yet.
A giggle caught his attention, and he moved around the desk, blinking at the sight before him.
Two young women lay on the floor behind the desk, one blonde, and one brunette, sunbathing in the office as though it were a beach. They were dressed in bikinis that left nothing to the imagination, spread out on brightly coloured beach towels, and wore dark sunglasses, hiding their eyes.
"Damn," Faith uttered, regarding him with a pout. "Wrong one."
"I'm surprised at you, Buffy," Wesley managed after his heart started beating again. Either one of the two girls would have caused a temporary arrhythmia. Together, they were dynamite.
"Me? It was Faith's idea!"
"That's right," Faith chimed in, mock-disgustedly. "Blame the ex-con."
He rubbed a hand over his mouth as he regarded them, reminding his libido that they were Slayers and quite capable of doing him significant damage if he put a finger wrong. Or a word wrong. Possibly even an eyeball.
"I realise you're doing the view a favour, Faith," he began.
"And it's a very nice view, isn't it, Wes?" Faith tilted her head back enough so he could see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Damn the girl and her innuendos!
"...but I believe you had training this morning?"
One hand waved languidly in the air. "Skippit-dot-com!"
"Faith..."
"Wes," she whined, "I can spar against Buffy later this morning when we've finished getting our rays."
"You could get your rays at a proper beach instead of turning Angel's office into Playboy Mansion," Wesley told her dryly. Vaguely, he was aware of Buffy's stare at the exchange between him and Faith and hoped his flush was not too visible to her. Or his body's instinctive reaction to the sight of the two athletic young women 'flaunting it' before him. "This is LA. There are beaches everywhere."
Faith sighed and did his instincts no favours as she rolled over, presenting him with a view straight down her cleavage. "Wesley, tell me one thing?"
"Yes." At least he managed the monosyllable, even if it was forced out between clenched teeth.
"Why would I go to a beach and miss the chance to get a rise out of you?" She cocked a finger at his groin, and this time he did flush. His body definitely had a mind of its own.
Buffy chuckled. "Bad Watcher. No biscuit!"
Faith snorted and twisted around to look at the blonde. "Now who's picking up Britishisms from their Watcher?"
Very well. If she was going to dish it out, so would he. "If you want a rise out of me, Faith," he retorted, "There are more opportune times to get it." He waited long enough to catch her startled expression, and to enjoy the way Buffy's mouth dropped open. "Up! Out!"
"He's bossy," Faith sighed in mock-annoyance.
"I'll say!"
They sighed, pulled themselves off the floor, dusted each other off with exaggerated care, and tossed their towels over their shoulders. All at a very leisurely pace.
He intercepted more than one sly glance from Faith. The little bint enjoyed getting under his skin, and no mistake. He glared at her, and she became all innocence.
Then they put on their shoes.
Buffy, at least, had chosen flat-soled beach sandals for this venture. Not so Faith. Faith had stilettos; black, strappy ones that accentuated the curve of her legs.
Dear God, sweet Jesus, and holy Mary...
He wasn't usually one for blasphemy, but it came so easily... With a saunter that mocked Wesley with every sway of the hips, the girls walked to the door and pulled it open.
One very surprised vampire stared back at them.
Faith never missed a beat.
"Good morning, Mr. Angel," she carolled sweetly.
"Hey, Angel," Buffy added.
They kept walking. Angel's jaw was wide open, but no sound was coming out as the two girls sashayed past him and out into the antechamber beyond.
Wesley noticed that the vampire's eyes followed the girls - probably specifically Buffy - out into the corridor beyond Harmony's office before he turned back to his colleague. He looked only about as poleaxed as Wesley felt as Wesley dropped into the chair opposite Angel's desk and put his head in his hands.
"Should I ask?"
"Please don't."
* fin *
