snippet-a-thon!
Jan. 3rd, 2003 08:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
burntcopperokay, maybe just the one snippet. Same universe as Black as a Lifestyle Choice.
The door goes. Someone probably left the door downstairs off the latch again. Faith bets
it's the plumber in Flat 1. Useful guy when something goes wrong with your taps, but
absent-minded as hell when it comes to doors and locks. She refuses to look up from this
week's copy of Heat, aka how much really sad celebrity gossip can you fit in one magazine.
Utter trash but kinda absorbing. It's not like she cares who D-lists celebs are going out
with, but, like she said, kinda magnetic. Like a train wreck. Wes sighs when it becomes
obvious she's not going to answer the door, so he puts down his book and goes to open
the door.
The silence after makes her look up. Not even a greeting, and that's weird, because
though Wes' automatic politeness that normally sounds so fucking stuffy sometimes goes
down the plughole - she's been thinking way too much about the plumber for her brain to
be thinking in terms of plugholes - he normally gives people some kind of greeting. She
puts down the magazine and goes to see who it is at the door. Christ, even someone from
the Council would get an icy "And what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" from him. Real
meaning "State your business, then you can fuck off."
Big black guy at the door, dressed in American street gear. Not British. Wes registers her
interest, and says icily "Faith, this is Charles Gunn."
Okay, him she's heard of. One of Wes' old buddies from LA, who dropped him like a hot
potato when he was laid up in hospital. Wes told her what the circumstances were and his
own shitty part in them, but it reminds her a bit too much of the snobbery of the Sunnyhell
gang. Faith smiles, wide and welcoming. "Fuck off out of here."
Gunn looks surprised, then snarls. "Hey, no-one asked your opinion." He looks back at Wes.
"Faith? Ain't that the name of that bitch who carved you up?"
"That's the name of the bitch who's got more right to be here than you." Faith replies,
tensing her muscles and just spoiling to kick this guy's ass into the street so hard he
bounces. No big nasties for a week, and this guy's just right for her to take some of the
tension out on.
Wes sighs. It's the pained sigh that gets people who know him's attention. It snaps
Faith's attention back from potential fight to the situation. Gunn reacts the same too, so
the urge to take notice of Wes hasn't diminished since he dumped his ass. "If you two
would kindly put the little show of egos away? Gunn, what is it?"
Gunn deflates a bit, looking defeated. "Angel's disappeared."
Wes raises an eyebrow. "And what gives you the impression I would know anything about
it? There's a rather large ocean and landmass separating us."
Gunn slumps some more. "You're the knowledge guy."
"Gunn, these days I tend to concern myself more with my immediate situation and
surroundings and the occasional world threat. Amazingly, one single souled vampire
doesn't tend to loom very large on my horizons. No matter what Wolfram and Hart in LA
might think. I've found apocalypses tend to be somewhat localised."
There may be more. Am not sure.
The door goes. Someone probably left the door downstairs off the latch again. Faith bets
it's the plumber in Flat 1. Useful guy when something goes wrong with your taps, but
absent-minded as hell when it comes to doors and locks. She refuses to look up from this
week's copy of Heat, aka how much really sad celebrity gossip can you fit in one magazine.
Utter trash but kinda absorbing. It's not like she cares who D-lists celebs are going out
with, but, like she said, kinda magnetic. Like a train wreck. Wes sighs when it becomes
obvious she's not going to answer the door, so he puts down his book and goes to open
the door.
The silence after makes her look up. Not even a greeting, and that's weird, because
though Wes' automatic politeness that normally sounds so fucking stuffy sometimes goes
down the plughole - she's been thinking way too much about the plumber for her brain to
be thinking in terms of plugholes - he normally gives people some kind of greeting. She
puts down the magazine and goes to see who it is at the door. Christ, even someone from
the Council would get an icy "And what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" from him. Real
meaning "State your business, then you can fuck off."
Big black guy at the door, dressed in American street gear. Not British. Wes registers her
interest, and says icily "Faith, this is Charles Gunn."
Okay, him she's heard of. One of Wes' old buddies from LA, who dropped him like a hot
potato when he was laid up in hospital. Wes told her what the circumstances were and his
own shitty part in them, but it reminds her a bit too much of the snobbery of the Sunnyhell
gang. Faith smiles, wide and welcoming. "Fuck off out of here."
Gunn looks surprised, then snarls. "Hey, no-one asked your opinion." He looks back at Wes.
"Faith? Ain't that the name of that bitch who carved you up?"
"That's the name of the bitch who's got more right to be here than you." Faith replies,
tensing her muscles and just spoiling to kick this guy's ass into the street so hard he
bounces. No big nasties for a week, and this guy's just right for her to take some of the
tension out on.
Wes sighs. It's the pained sigh that gets people who know him's attention. It snaps
Faith's attention back from potential fight to the situation. Gunn reacts the same too, so
the urge to take notice of Wes hasn't diminished since he dumped his ass. "If you two
would kindly put the little show of egos away? Gunn, what is it?"
Gunn deflates a bit, looking defeated. "Angel's disappeared."
Wes raises an eyebrow. "And what gives you the impression I would know anything about
it? There's a rather large ocean and landmass separating us."
Gunn slumps some more. "You're the knowledge guy."
"Gunn, these days I tend to concern myself more with my immediate situation and
surroundings and the occasional world threat. Amazingly, one single souled vampire
doesn't tend to loom very large on my horizons. No matter what Wolfram and Hart in LA
might think. I've found apocalypses tend to be somewhat localised."
There may be more. Am not sure.
