and i never wanted anything from you except everything you had
WHO || Faith Lehane (watcherless) and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (marlborocousin)
WHAT || Faith thinks that everyone selling their souls to Wolfram & Hart was the world's dumbest life choice. Also, Spike stays dead, and Cleveland sucks.
WHERE || Los Angeles, CA.
WHEN || Angel 5.01
HOW || Prose.
Heading back to L.A. wasn't the smartest plan she'd ever had. Usually when people did the whole break-out thing, they tended to keep pretty far from the city they'd, y'know, broken outta. But Faith wasn't always the best with the bright ideas, and who could blame her? She's been the last to know on a lot of crap -- most of it due to coma or prison, but y'know. Live and let whatever.
But, Angel rolling up to the Hellmouth without so much as a howdy-doo so he could plant one on Buffy was a pretty big thing to miss for a chick who sorta had herself figured she was further in the friend department than the pet project one.
'Course, it wasn't 'til she got to L.A. that she got the big freakin' news. Wolfram and Hart, big on the evil, low on the soul-saving, was host to the whole crew. Wolfram and Hart, the same corporate assholes who'd put Faith on the payroll to get her to off the broodmeister. So, who could blame her for being a little tee'd off? Well, she knew one guy who'd get it. Not that she'd say as much a couple years back, but the new and improved Wyndam-Pryce seemed a lot bigger on the Dark Side and not so much on the judgey.
Sneaking into Wolfram & Hart was, honestly, the easy part. Navigating the maze of executive offices, on the other hand … got kinda tricky. Didn't keep her from showing up in Wesley's, kicking the doors open and casually striding in, scoping it out and doing a little twirl to get the full view as she approached his desk, finishing her 360 just in time to plant both hands firmly on the edge of it and lean over, eyeing him.
"Apparently, these days, a chick doesn't even have to go unconscious in a big way to miss the memo. Or maybe you just didn't manage to send it out of the office. Don't blame you, even postage within this place has gotta be Hellish. Literally, I'm thinkin'." She shook her head, keeping casual but with unavoidable undertones of disapproval.
"Heard you guys had set up shop. Almost didn't wanna believe it, but here you are. Gotta say, Wes, not diggin' the sell-out look."
WHAT || Faith thinks that everyone selling their souls to Wolfram & Hart was the world's dumbest life choice. Also, Spike stays dead, and Cleveland sucks.
WHERE || Los Angeles, CA.
WHEN || Angel 5.01
HOW || Prose.
Heading back to L.A. wasn't the smartest plan she'd ever had. Usually when people did the whole break-out thing, they tended to keep pretty far from the city they'd, y'know, broken outta. But Faith wasn't always the best with the bright ideas, and who could blame her? She's been the last to know on a lot of crap -- most of it due to coma or prison, but y'know. Live and let whatever.
But, Angel rolling up to the Hellmouth without so much as a howdy-doo so he could plant one on Buffy was a pretty big thing to miss for a chick who sorta had herself figured she was further in the friend department than the pet project one.
'Course, it wasn't 'til she got to L.A. that she got the big freakin' news. Wolfram and Hart, big on the evil, low on the soul-saving, was host to the whole crew. Wolfram and Hart, the same corporate assholes who'd put Faith on the payroll to get her to off the broodmeister. So, who could blame her for being a little tee'd off? Well, she knew one guy who'd get it. Not that she'd say as much a couple years back, but the new and improved Wyndam-Pryce seemed a lot bigger on the Dark Side and not so much on the judgey.
Sneaking into Wolfram & Hart was, honestly, the easy part. Navigating the maze of executive offices, on the other hand … got kinda tricky. Didn't keep her from showing up in Wesley's, kicking the doors open and casually striding in, scoping it out and doing a little twirl to get the full view as she approached his desk, finishing her 360 just in time to plant both hands firmly on the edge of it and lean over, eyeing him.
"Apparently, these days, a chick doesn't even have to go unconscious in a big way to miss the memo. Or maybe you just didn't manage to send it out of the office. Don't blame you, even postage within this place has gotta be Hellish. Literally, I'm thinkin'." She shook her head, keeping casual but with unavoidable undertones of disapproval.
"Heard you guys had set up shop. Almost didn't wanna believe it, but here you are. Gotta say, Wes, not diggin' the sell-out look."