Fic: All Night Long 9
Title: All Night Long - chapter eight..
Series: Damned If I Don't, Damned If I Do.
Rating: R
Pairings: Buffy/Faith
Summary: Curses can pass from one generation to the next, even without biology involved.
Chapter eight.
“Faith, your waters just broke.”
“They did not!”
“I’m pretty sure they did.”
“You’re lying! I have a week to go yet!”
Buffy was staying calm, not that Faith was making it very easy. “Okay, fine. You have crappy bladder control and pee’d yourself. Let’s keep going then.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time since the brat started bouncing around in there.”
Buffy’s nose wrinkled at the new information but she walked beside Faith, leaving the steaming patch in the snow behind. Well, she walked, Faith waddled because of her damp underwear.
“We’re on West 107th so we must have missed the motel on 105th, somehow, but there’s another on here that’s just . . .” Faith doubled over all of a sudden and Buffy rushed to put arms around her in case she needed to be held up. “Okay, what was that?”
Faith straightened up without help but didn’t shake Buffy off. Her hands were holding her swollen stomach tenderly. “A really hard kick?”
“Or a contraction!” Okay, trying to stay calm was out, panic was in. “Was it a contraction? Faith, you need to tell me and now! Was it?”
“I don’t fricken know! How am I supposed to know? Not like I’ve had a lot of babies before? Anyway it’s gone now, I’m fine.” She started to waddle on. “Let’s just find that motel because my pussy is freezing!”
“Can you not call it that!” she snapped.
“Why? Never bothered you before.”
It had actually, once upon a time, but now it just felt wrong when a baby was about to come out of it!
“Hurry up,” Faith called over her shoulder, still walking awkwardly away.
*****
“They’re contractions, Faith!” she snapped after the third one. “Stop trying to deny it.” She knew she should be timing them or something, but she had too much to deal with right now.
“Bull, it's indigestion.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, look! Told you we'd find one, B! This place is on the list! Number . . . three.” Why had she let Faith keep the list. “So not the worst. Says here it has eight double rooms.”
“Double as in they double as maternity rooms?” she asked hopefully as she checked out the black plaque bolted to the stone pillar beside the tall spike-topped wrought iron gates. Forbidding much? “'The Cleveland Requiem'. Odd name. Sounds like a churchy place.”
“Nah, it's a classy name. B&B's are always like that.”
“If you say so.” Faith had spent way more nights than she ever had in temporary accommodation so she should probably defer this one to her, but . . . “Wasn't number three one of the budget places though? How classy is it likely to be?”
“Would you stop looking for problems? It says 'Vacancies' in the window and that's all I need to know.”
Faith was right. No neon this time though. Just a handwritten word on a piece of card taped to the inside of the window. There was nothing in it to strike fear in even the faintest of hearts so Buffy didn’t get what was holding her back from the bulk-standard, boring front door. Unless it was just her ability to smell traps everywhere tonight.
“Faith are you sure you wouldn’t . . .”
“B, I’m having a baby not an operation so I don’t need a doctor or a hospital or a gown that leaves my ass cold or anyone trying to gas me. All I need is somewhere reasonably comfortable and out of this fucking snow.”
“Faith, you can’t just crawl into a corner to give birth. You’re not an animal.”
“No I’m a slayer and I’ve got this, B. All you need to worry about is catching the kid in a clean towel when he pops out.” With that she pushed the doorbell. It donged six times like a death toll, not improving Buffy's spirits one bit.
They didn't have to wait long before the door creaked inwards and Abraham Lincoln smiled down at them. “Good evening, ladies.”
“Great, a themed place,” Faith grumbled. “That's why it's budget.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Buffy eyed the top hat and the sparkly blood-red waistcoat beneath his black dinner jacket and was left with a 'huh?'
“Welcome to The Requiem. Please, come in out of the cold and make yourselves at home.”
Neither of them moved; Faith because of what she thought was going on and Buffy because she didn't know what was going on.
“Do we have more guests, George?” A woman, short and skinny, sidled around the man so that she was the one in front of the doorway. She took in their apprehension and smiled reassuringly. “Forgive my husband. He does get carried away on nights like this.”
“Uh huh,” Buffy said while contemplating the woman's bonnet, frilly apron, and sensible leather clogs.
“We need a room,” Faith said.
“No we don't,” she said.
“Then why did you ring the bell?” The woman asked.
“Because we need a room,” Faith said again.
“I wanted to borrow your phone,” Buffy improvised, and as improvisations went it wasn't a bad one. A working phone would be awesome right now!
“Then come in, dear girls, and use our telephone. And perhaps warm yourselves a while. Would you like some wine?”
“Sounds good.” Buffy had to pull Faith back from entering, “I didn't mean the wine!”
“We're in kind of a hurry. My girlfriend is about to have a baby. Can you bring the phone to us?”
“A baby? Mmm.”
“I'm afraid the cable will not stretch so far. Will you not come in and make use of it?” The man said over the woman's head. “A warm break from the cold snow will surely make your onward journey more pleasant.”
“Exactly! Come in. Come in,” the woman urged.
“You guys are weird,” Faith finally realized.
“You guys are vampires,” Buffy said, getting straight to the crux of her particular problem with them.
Faith looked at her in surprise. “They're what?”
“Are you new at this?” she snapped as the hoteliers dropped their act to lunge at her unsuspecting girlfriend. Snap-kicking the woman back into the man brought them a few seconds and then Faith produced a short, thin stake from somewhere and Buffy snatched it and with a lunge turned the creepier one to dust.
With a roar of pain-filled rage the man with the mutton chop sideburns and the sparkly red waistcoat ran through his wife's dust to get to them and met Faith's small over-the-shoulder handbag ... fangs first.
He landed on his ass clutching his mouth and Buffy pulled Faith away from the house and back up the path to the road before she could charge in and claim a room for the night.
“How was I supposed to know it was run by vampires?” Faith snapped in an out of out of breath voice.
“You weren't,” she assured her. “I didn't know either at first.”
“But then you did. What's wrong with me?”
“Baby hormones?”
They were back on the pavement and several looks back showed that nothing was chasing them. Still Buffy walked as quickly as Faith could to put some distance between them and The Cleveland Requiem. After a while Faith stuck her thumb out, and figuring it couldn't hurt Buffy did the same. Several cars passed them with no luck.
“Show a little leg.”
“No! You show a little leg!”
“Okay, if you're happy with your pregnant girlfriend doing that . . .”
“No! No, I'm not. I'll do it!” She hiked her dress up and immediately cars started honking their horns.
She was feeling flattered until one guy shouted out of a passenger window, “Nice pussy! Wanna fuck?”
“Too high, B! Pull your fucking dress down a little, you ho!”
“What? Oh God!” In an embarrassed panic she pulled her dress down as far as it could go and there was no way she was trying that tactic again, ever. “Okay, so we need to . . .” Faith bent over to lean on someone's decorative brick wall. “Damn, are you okay?”
“Yuh, I'm fine,” Faith promised in a strangled voice.
Buffy gave her a minute before saying, “So hospital now, yes?”
“No, I'm ‘kay.”
“Faith, you can't even string a pair of syllables together. Do you want to have your baby out on the street?”
Faith walked on like she hadn't even heard her and, shaking her head, Buffy followed. What choice did she have?
“Got another.”
“What?”
“I don't think it's on the list, but it's a motel with a vacancies sign out front.”
“Hospital, Faith! You need a hospital.” Buffy sighed as the stubborn look reared in Faith’s eyes and saved her breath for the Lamaze breathing techniques she’d learned from a book. “Alright, let's knock on the door.”
It was another opportunity to use a phone at least.
This place was less grand than the last, but it looked nice from the outside. There were painted shutters over the windows and hardy winter shrubs were in flower along the path, battling the snow falling on them and - so far - winning.
They couldn't find a doorbell so Faith took the flimsy-looking knocker between finger and thumb and banged it down hard three times. In Buffy's opinion the sound it made wouldn't attract the attention of a Hearing Dog for the Deaf, but only seconds later the white painted door opened to reveal a middle-aged blonde woman. She was smiling widely and holding her hands out to draw them in before she even saw them.
Buffy did a quick check and noted the pink cheeks and rapid, excited breathing. Definitely not vampires. Possibly still weirdo's though.
“Come in, come in. It's so cold out there! Oh, you're pregnant! How nice. How far along are you? Is this your sister? Hello!”
She reached out to shake Buffy's hand. “I'm not her sister.”
“Apologies. Good friends are special, aren't they?” The woman beamed and then addressed Faith again while peering over their shoulders out into the snowy night. “Is your husband with you? We have parking at the rear if he has a car.”
Beyond the door was a long, dimly lit hallway. The electric lights were in low wall sconces and shed more light on the pictures hanging above them than the diamond patterned carpet or the way forward.
“She doesn't have a husband,” she said, distracted by the artwork. It was amateurish and there wasn't much variation on the theme but it wasn't that bad if you liked oil paintings of bearded men in robes with cherubs and/or sheep.
“Oh!” Buffy startled back when the proprietor clutched dramatically at her chest. “A widow so young. You poor girl.”
Faith finally stopped wincing at the pain she was trying to mask to set her straight. “I'm not a widow.”
“Running from domestic abuse?” the woman asked hopefully, hands wringing in front of her.
Faith gave a flat, “No.”
While Buffy mused on it and said, “Kinda.”
“B, no! Me and my man just had a difference of opinion when it came to having this baby, that's all. So we split.”
Buffy balked at Faith wordage, but when the owner of the place began with: “I understand pregnancy can be a very trying time, but a difference of opinion young lady is no . . .” she balked even more.
She could see Faith was about to let loose on the woman and believe her, Buffy wasn't thrilled with what they had unwittingly walked into here either, but at the very least she needed to use the telephone!
“You're so right and if it was down to me there would be wedding bells tomorrow,” she lied, cutting in optimistically. “So how much will our room be?”
It was in vain. “I'm afraid you won't be able to stay here tonight. I wish you well, dear, but our Lord is very clear on the importance of children being born within the sanctity of marriage; the fruit of a loving and committed union.”
They were being ushered back towards the door! “No, wait! My girlfriend's in labor. Please at least let me use your phone to call an ambulance?”
Sighing and smiling softly the woman looked about to relent, until the words sunk in. Buffy kicked herself as her expression hardened even more. “Girlfriend? Honestly! No wonder the father left you.” She shook her head in disgust. “Out you go, now please.”
“You're going to regret this!”
“B, just leave it and let's go.”
She didn't. She couldn't. “I mean it! The dad is a God too and he is going to be so pissed with you when he finds out you're the reason his precious son was born on the street!”
“Now you're making fun of me?” She opened the door in one violent pull . “Leave before I call the police.”
“And tell them what?” Buffy demanded. “You have a vacancies sign in your window! So it's hardly a crime to . . .” Shit, Faith was gone. Out of the door as soon as she'd heard the P of police probably but Buffy had been too incensed to notice right away. She stared out of the door, hesitating. “Please can I just use your telephone?”
“Out!” The pointed finger left no room for more argument.
“Awesome Christian spirit by the . . .” The door slammed in her face. “Faith! Faith, where are you? Oh, there you are. Why are you hiding in a bush?”
“I don't know; I might be giving birth,” Faith panted from the depths of the shrubbery.
*****
Thankfully Faith didn't give birth in the garden next door to the religious fanatic, although it was a good few minutes before she could make herself rise out of the squat the contraction had forced her in to.
“So where is the hospital?” Faith asked once they were moving again.
Buffy was overjoyed that Faith was finally on the same page as her, but she couldn't answer that. “How do I know? It's your hospital.”
“You're the one who did all the dummy runs!”
She had done a lot of them, but every time she and Xander - or sometimes she and Kennedy - had started from Wendigo Hollow and she was pretty sure that they had never passed through these particular streets.
“Cleveland Presbyterian right? Okay, that’s . . . maybe I should knock on a door or . . . or wave down a motorist?” Faith looked at her with sarcastic sympathy. “Fine, what do you suggest? Oh, I could find a cop, they’d have to help, right?”
“No cops! Are you kidding me? Do you want our kid born behind bars?”
“Better than being born in the snow!” she shouted back, but she wasn’t going to jump in front of police car now that she remembered Faith was still technically on the run. “Okay, I’ll get us a cab. Not like we have to worry about staying in a fleapit motel now anyway.”
“No, now we get to stay in a fleapit hospital instead. Come on, then. Might as well just keep going the way we were. Bound to hit a big road sooner or later where we can hail a cab or, you know, an ambulance.”
Buffy shrugged in compliance and trudged along beside her because what else could they do? It wasn't like they had options falling out of the sky and . . .
“Holy shit, dude! Where did you come from?”
Buffy looked up in alarm to see that something had just landed in their path and this was certainly no snowflake. It was as white as one though - except for the dark glasses.
“Buffy, nice to see you again.”
She groaned as she watched large feathery wings fold discreetly away and couldn't believe that she'd forgotten about this guy.
Series: Damned If I Don't, Damned If I Do.
Rating: R
Pairings: Buffy/Faith
Summary: Curses can pass from one generation to the next, even without biology involved.
Chapter eight.
“Faith, your waters just broke.”
“They did not!”
“I’m pretty sure they did.”
“You’re lying! I have a week to go yet!”
Buffy was staying calm, not that Faith was making it very easy. “Okay, fine. You have crappy bladder control and pee’d yourself. Let’s keep going then.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time since the brat started bouncing around in there.”
Buffy’s nose wrinkled at the new information but she walked beside Faith, leaving the steaming patch in the snow behind. Well, she walked, Faith waddled because of her damp underwear.
“We’re on West 107th so we must have missed the motel on 105th, somehow, but there’s another on here that’s just . . .” Faith doubled over all of a sudden and Buffy rushed to put arms around her in case she needed to be held up. “Okay, what was that?”
Faith straightened up without help but didn’t shake Buffy off. Her hands were holding her swollen stomach tenderly. “A really hard kick?”
“Or a contraction!” Okay, trying to stay calm was out, panic was in. “Was it a contraction? Faith, you need to tell me and now! Was it?”
“I don’t fricken know! How am I supposed to know? Not like I’ve had a lot of babies before? Anyway it’s gone now, I’m fine.” She started to waddle on. “Let’s just find that motel because my pussy is freezing!”
“Can you not call it that!” she snapped.
“Why? Never bothered you before.”
It had actually, once upon a time, but now it just felt wrong when a baby was about to come out of it!
“Hurry up,” Faith called over her shoulder, still walking awkwardly away.
*****
“They’re contractions, Faith!” she snapped after the third one. “Stop trying to deny it.” She knew she should be timing them or something, but she had too much to deal with right now.
“Bull, it's indigestion.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, look! Told you we'd find one, B! This place is on the list! Number . . . three.” Why had she let Faith keep the list. “So not the worst. Says here it has eight double rooms.”
“Double as in they double as maternity rooms?” she asked hopefully as she checked out the black plaque bolted to the stone pillar beside the tall spike-topped wrought iron gates. Forbidding much? “'The Cleveland Requiem'. Odd name. Sounds like a churchy place.”
“Nah, it's a classy name. B&B's are always like that.”
“If you say so.” Faith had spent way more nights than she ever had in temporary accommodation so she should probably defer this one to her, but . . . “Wasn't number three one of the budget places though? How classy is it likely to be?”
“Would you stop looking for problems? It says 'Vacancies' in the window and that's all I need to know.”
Faith was right. No neon this time though. Just a handwritten word on a piece of card taped to the inside of the window. There was nothing in it to strike fear in even the faintest of hearts so Buffy didn’t get what was holding her back from the bulk-standard, boring front door. Unless it was just her ability to smell traps everywhere tonight.
“Faith are you sure you wouldn’t . . .”
“B, I’m having a baby not an operation so I don’t need a doctor or a hospital or a gown that leaves my ass cold or anyone trying to gas me. All I need is somewhere reasonably comfortable and out of this fucking snow.”
“Faith, you can’t just crawl into a corner to give birth. You’re not an animal.”
“No I’m a slayer and I’ve got this, B. All you need to worry about is catching the kid in a clean towel when he pops out.” With that she pushed the doorbell. It donged six times like a death toll, not improving Buffy's spirits one bit.
They didn't have to wait long before the door creaked inwards and Abraham Lincoln smiled down at them. “Good evening, ladies.”
“Great, a themed place,” Faith grumbled. “That's why it's budget.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Buffy eyed the top hat and the sparkly blood-red waistcoat beneath his black dinner jacket and was left with a 'huh?'
“Welcome to The Requiem. Please, come in out of the cold and make yourselves at home.”
Neither of them moved; Faith because of what she thought was going on and Buffy because she didn't know what was going on.
“Do we have more guests, George?” A woman, short and skinny, sidled around the man so that she was the one in front of the doorway. She took in their apprehension and smiled reassuringly. “Forgive my husband. He does get carried away on nights like this.”
“Uh huh,” Buffy said while contemplating the woman's bonnet, frilly apron, and sensible leather clogs.
“We need a room,” Faith said.
“No we don't,” she said.
“Then why did you ring the bell?” The woman asked.
“Because we need a room,” Faith said again.
“I wanted to borrow your phone,” Buffy improvised, and as improvisations went it wasn't a bad one. A working phone would be awesome right now!
“Then come in, dear girls, and use our telephone. And perhaps warm yourselves a while. Would you like some wine?”
“Sounds good.” Buffy had to pull Faith back from entering, “I didn't mean the wine!”
“We're in kind of a hurry. My girlfriend is about to have a baby. Can you bring the phone to us?”
“A baby? Mmm.”
“I'm afraid the cable will not stretch so far. Will you not come in and make use of it?” The man said over the woman's head. “A warm break from the cold snow will surely make your onward journey more pleasant.”
“Exactly! Come in. Come in,” the woman urged.
“You guys are weird,” Faith finally realized.
“You guys are vampires,” Buffy said, getting straight to the crux of her particular problem with them.
Faith looked at her in surprise. “They're what?”
“Are you new at this?” she snapped as the hoteliers dropped their act to lunge at her unsuspecting girlfriend. Snap-kicking the woman back into the man brought them a few seconds and then Faith produced a short, thin stake from somewhere and Buffy snatched it and with a lunge turned the creepier one to dust.
With a roar of pain-filled rage the man with the mutton chop sideburns and the sparkly red waistcoat ran through his wife's dust to get to them and met Faith's small over-the-shoulder handbag ... fangs first.
He landed on his ass clutching his mouth and Buffy pulled Faith away from the house and back up the path to the road before she could charge in and claim a room for the night.
“How was I supposed to know it was run by vampires?” Faith snapped in an out of out of breath voice.
“You weren't,” she assured her. “I didn't know either at first.”
“But then you did. What's wrong with me?”
“Baby hormones?”
They were back on the pavement and several looks back showed that nothing was chasing them. Still Buffy walked as quickly as Faith could to put some distance between them and The Cleveland Requiem. After a while Faith stuck her thumb out, and figuring it couldn't hurt Buffy did the same. Several cars passed them with no luck.
“Show a little leg.”
“No! You show a little leg!”
“Okay, if you're happy with your pregnant girlfriend doing that . . .”
“No! No, I'm not. I'll do it!” She hiked her dress up and immediately cars started honking their horns.
She was feeling flattered until one guy shouted out of a passenger window, “Nice pussy! Wanna fuck?”
“Too high, B! Pull your fucking dress down a little, you ho!”
“What? Oh God!” In an embarrassed panic she pulled her dress down as far as it could go and there was no way she was trying that tactic again, ever. “Okay, so we need to . . .” Faith bent over to lean on someone's decorative brick wall. “Damn, are you okay?”
“Yuh, I'm fine,” Faith promised in a strangled voice.
Buffy gave her a minute before saying, “So hospital now, yes?”
“No, I'm ‘kay.”
“Faith, you can't even string a pair of syllables together. Do you want to have your baby out on the street?”
Faith walked on like she hadn't even heard her and, shaking her head, Buffy followed. What choice did she have?
“Got another.”
“What?”
“I don't think it's on the list, but it's a motel with a vacancies sign out front.”
“Hospital, Faith! You need a hospital.” Buffy sighed as the stubborn look reared in Faith’s eyes and saved her breath for the Lamaze breathing techniques she’d learned from a book. “Alright, let's knock on the door.”
It was another opportunity to use a phone at least.
This place was less grand than the last, but it looked nice from the outside. There were painted shutters over the windows and hardy winter shrubs were in flower along the path, battling the snow falling on them and - so far - winning.
They couldn't find a doorbell so Faith took the flimsy-looking knocker between finger and thumb and banged it down hard three times. In Buffy's opinion the sound it made wouldn't attract the attention of a Hearing Dog for the Deaf, but only seconds later the white painted door opened to reveal a middle-aged blonde woman. She was smiling widely and holding her hands out to draw them in before she even saw them.
Buffy did a quick check and noted the pink cheeks and rapid, excited breathing. Definitely not vampires. Possibly still weirdo's though.
“Come in, come in. It's so cold out there! Oh, you're pregnant! How nice. How far along are you? Is this your sister? Hello!”
She reached out to shake Buffy's hand. “I'm not her sister.”
“Apologies. Good friends are special, aren't they?” The woman beamed and then addressed Faith again while peering over their shoulders out into the snowy night. “Is your husband with you? We have parking at the rear if he has a car.”
Beyond the door was a long, dimly lit hallway. The electric lights were in low wall sconces and shed more light on the pictures hanging above them than the diamond patterned carpet or the way forward.
“She doesn't have a husband,” she said, distracted by the artwork. It was amateurish and there wasn't much variation on the theme but it wasn't that bad if you liked oil paintings of bearded men in robes with cherubs and/or sheep.
“Oh!” Buffy startled back when the proprietor clutched dramatically at her chest. “A widow so young. You poor girl.”
Faith finally stopped wincing at the pain she was trying to mask to set her straight. “I'm not a widow.”
“Running from domestic abuse?” the woman asked hopefully, hands wringing in front of her.
Faith gave a flat, “No.”
While Buffy mused on it and said, “Kinda.”
“B, no! Me and my man just had a difference of opinion when it came to having this baby, that's all. So we split.”
Buffy balked at Faith wordage, but when the owner of the place began with: “I understand pregnancy can be a very trying time, but a difference of opinion young lady is no . . .” she balked even more.
She could see Faith was about to let loose on the woman and believe her, Buffy wasn't thrilled with what they had unwittingly walked into here either, but at the very least she needed to use the telephone!
“You're so right and if it was down to me there would be wedding bells tomorrow,” she lied, cutting in optimistically. “So how much will our room be?”
It was in vain. “I'm afraid you won't be able to stay here tonight. I wish you well, dear, but our Lord is very clear on the importance of children being born within the sanctity of marriage; the fruit of a loving and committed union.”
They were being ushered back towards the door! “No, wait! My girlfriend's in labor. Please at least let me use your phone to call an ambulance?”
Sighing and smiling softly the woman looked about to relent, until the words sunk in. Buffy kicked herself as her expression hardened even more. “Girlfriend? Honestly! No wonder the father left you.” She shook her head in disgust. “Out you go, now please.”
“You're going to regret this!”
“B, just leave it and let's go.”
She didn't. She couldn't. “I mean it! The dad is a God too and he is going to be so pissed with you when he finds out you're the reason his precious son was born on the street!”
“Now you're making fun of me?” She opened the door in one violent pull . “Leave before I call the police.”
“And tell them what?” Buffy demanded. “You have a vacancies sign in your window! So it's hardly a crime to . . .” Shit, Faith was gone. Out of the door as soon as she'd heard the P of police probably but Buffy had been too incensed to notice right away. She stared out of the door, hesitating. “Please can I just use your telephone?”
“Out!” The pointed finger left no room for more argument.
“Awesome Christian spirit by the . . .” The door slammed in her face. “Faith! Faith, where are you? Oh, there you are. Why are you hiding in a bush?”
“I don't know; I might be giving birth,” Faith panted from the depths of the shrubbery.
*****
Thankfully Faith didn't give birth in the garden next door to the religious fanatic, although it was a good few minutes before she could make herself rise out of the squat the contraction had forced her in to.
“So where is the hospital?” Faith asked once they were moving again.
Buffy was overjoyed that Faith was finally on the same page as her, but she couldn't answer that. “How do I know? It's your hospital.”
“You're the one who did all the dummy runs!”
She had done a lot of them, but every time she and Xander - or sometimes she and Kennedy - had started from Wendigo Hollow and she was pretty sure that they had never passed through these particular streets.
“Cleveland Presbyterian right? Okay, that’s . . . maybe I should knock on a door or . . . or wave down a motorist?” Faith looked at her with sarcastic sympathy. “Fine, what do you suggest? Oh, I could find a cop, they’d have to help, right?”
“No cops! Are you kidding me? Do you want our kid born behind bars?”
“Better than being born in the snow!” she shouted back, but she wasn’t going to jump in front of police car now that she remembered Faith was still technically on the run. “Okay, I’ll get us a cab. Not like we have to worry about staying in a fleapit motel now anyway.”
“No, now we get to stay in a fleapit hospital instead. Come on, then. Might as well just keep going the way we were. Bound to hit a big road sooner or later where we can hail a cab or, you know, an ambulance.”
Buffy shrugged in compliance and trudged along beside her because what else could they do? It wasn't like they had options falling out of the sky and . . .
“Holy shit, dude! Where did you come from?”
Buffy looked up in alarm to see that something had just landed in their path and this was certainly no snowflake. It was as white as one though - except for the dark glasses.
“Buffy, nice to see you again.”
She groaned as she watched large feathery wings fold discreetly away and couldn't believe that she'd forgotten about this guy.