Disclaimers: If they were ours, things would quickly get bizarre.

Spoilers: Vague ones for Bad Girls. This takes place pre-Faith
evilness.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Summary: Blair Sandburg comes to Sunnydale.

Acknowledgments: Te wants to thank her delightful Webrain for
being them, and Pretty Pretty Pares for having *ideas*.

Feedback: Bring it on, baby. kormantic@yahoo.com,
teland793@sbcglobal.net

*

Steroids.

It's time to look into anabolic steroids.

It's time to get *this* little girly man pumped *up*.

Or else look into going into some additional serious debt and get a car
that actually runs.

Puffing, sweating and cursing, Blair Sandburg pushes his aging Volvo to the
side of the road.

Sunnydale.

That sounds friendly.

Tucking his hair behind his ears, he wipes his grease-stained hands on
his jeans.

All he needs is a diner, and a pay phone.

At least the Volvo had made it to the actual destination before giving
up the ghost.

He'd just make a credit card call and neglect to mention to Jim that
the cell phone battery had died, and ask for Rupert Giles' phone number.

That's what you get for trusting technology.  All he'd needed to do
was write it down on a scrap of paper, but ohhh, no, 'use the electronic
phonebook, Chief, that's what it's for...'

Grover's Diner is an uberclean and bright little burger joint.  The
kid behind the counter even has a jaunty little white paper cap.  He's
pallid and freckled and chinless, and he squints at Blair like he's
dropped his glasses in the deep fryer.

"Hey there.  You guys got a pay phone?"

The boy waves with the limp dishcloth in his hand, and Blair shambles
over to the strangely old fashioned pay phone.  Hell, it's got a rotary
dial.

Would his credit card even work?

The operator puts him through without a problem.

Shit.  The answering machine.

And if Jim was out and about, he wouldn't have the phone number on
hand anyway, so a cell call was out.

Well, maybe Mr. Giles was listed.

*

It takes Faith about 10 minutes to change out of her slayer gear and
get out the door again, but she knows from experience that Buffy
could be another half an hour. Faith never quite got that whole makeup
as art form thing. What was the point of having it on if no one could
tell, anyway?

So it's getting on toward evening, and there's vamp dust under
her nails -- painted last night while patrolling the cemetery, and
already nicely chipped -- and the dress is somewhere between falling off and
hugging her like a fratboy with a crush and Faith is *hungry*. All
over hungry.

Grover's got a nice greasy vibe to it despite being all clean. Like
somewhere, deep under all that cleanliness there's a layer of grime an
inch thick and invisible truckers bellied -- operative word -- up to the
counter chatting up some overblown sweet thing with big hair.

Cletus the slack-jawed local of a fry boy fits the motif, but Faith
would've preferred a Flo.

Or one of whatever that was juggling the phone book in the corner.

Hello, little cutie.

Short and squarish with a head full of hair. *Nice* hair.

Tight little ass, baby dyke boots... Faith checked her watch and her
stomach's needs. Everything said go, and Faith is not a girl to stand
on ceremony. Right on up to the pretty thing, slow and easy and she
just keeps on flipping pages, doesn't hear her, doesn't sense her until
Faith runs one finger right down the back of the baggy plaid shirt.

Except when she sort of yipes at Faith it turns out that the pretty
thing is still very pretty, all blue eyes and soft mouth and male.

Thank you, fashion whores, for androgyny.

"Well, you're kind of a surprise, sugar."

*

Blair laughs and drops the phone book, which swings on its little cord
with a squeak and knocks him in the thighs.

"Ow.  Hey.  Surprise?"

He smiles at her, and it's a nice view.

Sulky mouth, big doe eyes, and long dark hair like a curtain of silk.
Pretty foxy... for an undergrad.

She doesn't say anything to that, so he sticks his hand out and says,
"Blair Sandburg.  Did you need the phone?"

She ignores his hand, but smiles.  Dimples.

Dimples and *happening* body.   Ah, thank you Title Nine, thank you for
equal time for women's sports...

"I don't need the phone.  But you might have what I want."

"Ohhhhh. I don't think so."  She's cute, definitely cute, but 10 years at
Ranier have taught him to spot, and tactfully avoid, the underage girl in any
crowd.  "It's flattering, though.  Really.  How about I treat you to a milk
shake?  I've been on the road and I could use some dinner."

She raises her eyebrows and cocks her head.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Look.  You're... not gonna be my type for about five years.  I'll give
you my card, you come back and see me then, and we'll see what we can do."

He gives her a little wave and makes his way past her to the counter,
where he knocks on the slick white Formica to get the soda jerk's
attention.

He's not really surprised when she takes the stool beside his.

*

And you know, you just don't wear a dress like this when you're trying
to get *rejected*. Faith has a brief but definite moment of wanting to
punt Mr. Blair Sandburg right through the door... but she contains
herself. Makes a point of watching his ass as he moves toward the
counter, making sure it's the kind of look he can feel.

And follows.

"Chocolate," she says, and returns Blair's little smile with one of her
own.  Damn, he's cute.

He adds the shake to his order and gives her an attentive look that
makes Faith want to rip his clothes off with her teeth. *Damn* but
look what slaying a whole nest of vampires did to her.

Gave her something to blame it on.

"So, you got any immoral brothers? Sisters? Aunts?"

"Well, there's my cousin Nathan, but he's in jail."

"Damn. Shame to lock him up if he looks anything like you."

Another smile, and Faith watches him try to decide whether or not
to scold her again. He doesn't, and Faith smiles wider. Shifts, twists
on the little leather seat and mmms at the feel of the dress' fabric
rubbing and brushing against her skin.

Bras were for slaying, panties were for the repressed.

Chances a look at Blair over her shoulder, whose giving her a look more
amused than appreciative. Which is just depressing.

"OK, so no family members around, no gettin' nasty with *you*, can
you at least point a girl to where she *can* get laid?"

Blair laughs so hard he spits a little water. "You know, I think the
world is gonna tremble in fear when you hit your sexual peak."

"Tremble with *something*." Chuckles when she realizes her voice came out
half-growl, and Blair still has that look on his face. 'Pretty pretty girl
who I will not have.' Sighs again. "Aw, c'mon, *help*."

"Why don't you just... take care of business?"

"Mmmm. Damn, that sounds nice... Will you watch? I promise, it doesn't
count off your nice guy points." Gives him her best smile.

*

He hopes he's not actually as flushed as he feels.

It's been a long time since a woman made a play this overt.  And let's face
it, no one's ever had to try this hard.  But this is obviously not a girl who
takes no for an answer.

"Look.  You live around here, right?  I'm sure there's some local hangout...
where a woman of your wiles can turn up a nice boy your own age."

"So... I have your blessing to have sex with any other guy I can pry
away from the PlayStation, but a fine, mature, nicely hung
gentleman like yourself, will *not* be giving me head in the bathroom
stall?"

"Hey.  Human beings are sexual animals.  But there's free will, and
sensuality, and then there are laws about statutory rape.  And even
if there *weren't*, it still wouldn't be fair to you."

She tips up an eyebrow and extends her leg... open-toed sandals...
her skirt riding... up...

She strokes his jeansclad shin with the toe of her shoe.

"Are you saying you give lousy head?"

Blair sighs.

"Is it me?  You prefer Barbie blondes?"

"I'm a man.  With a pulse.  You fall well within my preference margins,
believe me.  But you're too young.  Okay?"

"Want to see my I.D.?"

"No, I don't-- Come on.  What's your name?"

"Faith," she purrs, standing up and leaning against the counter.

"Faith.  I'm gonna level with you here.  I don't date underage girls."

At her moue of distaste, he rolls his eyes and continues.

"Fine, I don't *sleep* with underage girls, either.  And although you're
very cute, and the offer has its share of appeal, it's not gonna happen.
Besides, I'm supposed to be meeting someone in...  Damn it.  Half an hour
ago."

*

And, yes, Faith *is* aware that there's a point when you should just
give up, but... frankly, the last time she was rejected she hadn't had
*breasts*. She sighs.

"You know, *Giles* would be easier to seduce than you are." Which is
definitely a thought. Giles had that badass-under-his-clothes thing
going on, and you can always trust an older man to know what he's
doing. Well, more than the boys *her* age and Blair's talking.

"... expert on supernatural happenings?"

"Hunh?"

Blair snorts. "I'm guessing your Giles is pretty cute. But is he Rupert
Giles, an expert on the supernatural?"

Her Giles. As if. "He's definitely Rupert Giles, and he lives about
two blocks from here. Finish your burger, I'll walk you over."

"Faith..."

"Look, you're hot, but I *will* get my hands on something just as cute
tonight before I quit. Giles is... ah... he's kind of a teacher around here,
and I know him, and these streets aren't safe at night." Easy to get back
into Slayer mode, and Faith guesses that makes her mature or something.

"Ah... you want to chaperone me?"

And it's just too much right that moment. Exasperating. Screw secrecy --
if Buffy can have the whole Slayerette crew she can have Blair the
Long-Haired Moral Man. Takes the utensils from the next place setting,
all three, and bent and twists them into a nice little vaguely sharp ball.
Places it next to his ice water. "Yeah, I'll keep you safe, babe."

*

Blair stares at the tangled fork tines and now-curved butter knives.
And he can feel his palms sweat.

And it's not just fear.

He swallows hard, wipes his hands on his jeans, thinking he probably
should have washed the grease off before settling into his burger, but
hey, grease was grease and she fucking tied that iced tea spoon into a
*bow* and...

"Uh.  Thanks.  I think I'll take you up on that offer."

And he picks up his burger and takes a big bite, so he won't have to
say anything for a while.

He chews.  Really masticates.

*chew*

Telekinetic?

*chew chew*

hopped up on pcp?

*chew*

anabolic steroids...?

*weak chuckle*

Title nine?

*choked off hysterical giggle*

Get a grip, Sandburg.

Eventually, he runs out of burger.

Faith, for her part, has lapsed into a parody of SchoolGirl.

She crosses her legs at the ankles and swings her feet demurely.  She
dimples at him between long, concentrated drags on her shake straw.

She is a determined young woman, that's for sure.

Oh, man.

*

When all else fails, let them know that you could crush them like an egg?

It's a new rule, but one that can certainly work. Heh. Xander might
appreciate it. He certainly deserved a repeat performance and mmm.
Shake. Good. Real. Creeeeamy.

The first few buttons of Blair's shirt are unbuttoned, dark curls trying
to grow free... Faith wants to tug them, find the dark rose nipples
buried and protected by all that hair and make them sing.

Crosses her legs at the ankles and squeezes her thighs together in that
little subtle way all girls needed to know. She'd teach Buffy how to get
through a boring study hall and *squeeze* oh *yeah*.

Smiles at Blair who looks somewhere between terrified and... curious.
Fascinated maybe. C'mon baby, take a ride on Supergirl...

He makes the last few bites of his burger very, very small. Rabbit bites
that make Faith wish she had thought to bring along one or *two* toys at
least. Nice, slim, long toys designed to make boys twitch and sweat a
little like Blair is now. Beautiful.

"Ready to go?"

"What? I... uh... yes. Yeah. Just let me..." Trails off and drops a ten and
some change on the counter. "Lead the way, Faith."

Some of that calm smile back all of a sudden, something strong about
names and they're out. The sun always seems to set really fucking fast
in Sunnydale, like it doesn't want to wait around to see the pre-game
show.

Which starts up in earnest before they're even a block from the diner.
Three vamps rushing in from the street side and she shoves Blair back
against the furniture store, plate glass making that weird wub-wub
sound like she *almost* pushed too hard. But almost isn't did and she
is *damned* well gonna keep Blair in one piece. Give him a little touch
of Slayage.

Jumps up and rips a tree branch free, thick but not too long to use
and it's on.

Wide swing to the one coming in on her left, but he ducks it. Faith
uses the momentum to get in a good kick to his lowered head, jabs to
the right with the branch and gets a lucky break. The vamp in
cavariccis impales himself trying to rush her. Good deal.

Fakes a swing at the third vamp, and has that one awful moment where
she can *feel* that one of them has gotten behind her and she won't be
fast enough but she works through the moves anyway, using the branch
as a half-assed staff and kicking out hard from the side, sending the
third vamp flying and she's already waiting for the blow, turning quick
as she can and just in time to see Blair brain the vamp with a rock.

Faith gives Blair a grin as she stakes the unconscious vamp, and turns
again. Three quick hits with the branch, spin move and quick shot to the
back of his knees. Holds him down with her foot and stakes him quick.

"Holy --"

And she doesn't give him any time to finish before pushing back up
against the window and shoving her tongue in his mouth.

*

Thrift.  Providence.  Prudence.

Adrenaline.

"What?"

She pulls back and licks her lips before giving him a wicked little grin.

He's hard now, has been since she nailed that freaky looking fanged guy
and he... exploded.

"What?"

She pulls back and licks her lips before giving him a wicked little
grin.

But that was fear.  Had been fear.  Originally.

This was... not a good idea.

"Adrenaline," he repeats, and finds he's licking his own lips as well.

She tips her head and lowers her lashes speculatively.

"That was a nice move.  With the rock."

"Thrift.  Making use of what's on hand.  That's...  I've gotten pretty
good at it.  And yet... in Cascade, mortal combat isn't usually so..."

"Undead?" Faith finishes for him. "So.  I'm a big girl, Blair.  Wanna play
in my sandbox now that you know I can take care of myself?"

She rocks against him, slowly, an obscenely pleasant grinding of cloth
and flesh against cloth and flesh and ohhh, *his* flesh was enjoying this
way too much and he'd just seen her... uh, was *kill* the word? And her
tongue.. is in his mouth... again...

That's what you get for standing around with your mouth open, Blair,
my friend.

He gives up.

He lets his hands slide into the sleek fall of her hair and draws her up
against him, her breasts plush and crushed against his chest, her mouth
hot and soft against his.

This girl is all woman.  She knows what she wants, and she can very
obviously take care of herself.

"You convinced me.  Although... maybe we should get somewhere... less
full of guys with fangs."

*

And Faith has to snicker at that. "Boy are you *ever* in the wrong town.
But there is *one* place I can think of..."

Hard not to just throw Blair over her shoulder and *run* there because
Jesus. This has to be a daily slay *record* for her and her whole body
was yelling. Singing. Wanting. Something.

Wants it up against the wall, fast and dirty and *twice* and they're
there.

Not the first time she's broken into a church, but the first time was
only a dare. This has purpose. *Meaning*. Something. Just a little
desecration to get the evening going right.

"Oh, man, I can't even *count* the number of levels this is wrong
on."

"Good boy."

Inside and it's dark and incense-y and *good* in a way Faith doesn't want
to examine too closely. Too much like admitting something that she
probably should have done the second she got the Call. It just puts too
many damned rules on things.

Quick check to make sure they're alone but the thought of getting away from
Blair's hot little body and sweet-smelling hair and rock hard cock...  too
much to even think about doing an actual patrol.

Or anything other than just pressing him to the dark wood of the
church's back wall and kissing him again. Soft and hard mouth, sharp
little teeth and wicked tongue.

Hands in her hair again, chills to her scalp and her whole body. Moving,
roving over her back and down. Tickling her thighs just under the hem
of her dress and suddenly it's just not working. She throws them both to the
floor, and Blair lands on top.  Whoofing loss of air and no time to get it
back before Blair is *licking* her. Short, sharp laps at the corners of her
mouth, a collar around her neck and Faith wraps her legs around his waist
and humps up and oh God that's his jeans and hot hard cock behind them
*grinding* into her sex.

Blair back up to face her, he's smiling now. Dark, knowing thing like
suddenly they're on his turf and he's about to show Faith how it's
done.

She darts up and nips him on the chin. "More."

*

More.

More skin, more hot sweet kisses, more of her long legs wrapped
around him...

He nods and dips his head to suck at the soft skin beneath the point of her
chin. He skims a hand up the outside of her thigh and then leans back on his
heels to get enough space to...

Hello... commando?

A girl with no panties...  She's a menace to society!  Definitely a
menace to his composure.  Jesus.

And she won't. stop. moving...

He's aching now, and he'd like nothing better than to get out of these
jeans and into her...

But.

He hadn't planned on doing Mr. Rupert Giles, no matter how cute Faith
thinks he is, and no way no how is he going to ride an 18 year old girl
bareback, vampire guys or no vampire guys.

"It's too bad..."

And her lust glazed eyes flutter a little. "Wha....?"

"It's too bad there are no bathroom stalls around here."

"Why...?"

"I have some manly pride, you know.  I guess I'll just have to give you head
here on the floor..."

And she makes a happy almost laughing growly sound and he hitches her
hips up on his splayed thighs, so close, tauntingly close to his
hard, ow, throbbing, yeah, cock...

He presses two fingers in his mouth against his tongue, and her wide dark
eyes are *glowing*, and she's panting a little, although she hadn't been
while she was kicking ass and taking names with the three undead kids
from before...

"That's... a nice touch," she murmurs, eyes drinking him in as he sucks on
his first two fingers.

He grins at her and takes his fingers out and drops his hand down and
inches the pads of those two fingers up under the flimsy fabric of her
skirt.

His fingertips are cool and wet against her hot belly... and he can feel
the fine flutter of muscle there before he takes his hand, pressing
lightly, lightly, against her belly, and then her springy hair... and then
her mound... and then...

He takes his hand away again.

Her eyebrows tense up and there's a suggestion of pout.

"Relax, there.  It's okay."  And her pops his first two fingers in his
mouth again and she lets her head fall back with a little frustrated/
titillated groan.

He chuckles a little and she lifts her head again to meet his eyes and
he figures it's probably not wise to tease a lioness.

So he slips his hand up her dress again, and *this* time, he gently,
gently prods past the slick swollen parting of skin and *presses*...
and again.

Faith writhes against him, her legs locking around his hips, and she
bites her lip with a sexy little whimper.

"That's it.  That's it.  Let yourself feel it..."  And he sets a soft
rhythm, letting her rock and wriggle, but never letting her actually
shift close enough to increase the pressure... only spread it around.

*

Let her *feel* it? Is he even listening to the sounds she's making?
And oh, OK, hopes not because... God. Spreading waves of it, breaking
like water all over he body, making her toes curl and he's just... Just
a little pressure, like something... oh, she can suddenly see Buffy
doing this to herself. Just... this. Constant maddening tease. Naked in
the bath, one leg thrown over the side and the mouth suddenly on hers
is nothing resembling female and that's... just fine.

Interestingly prickly stubble, has to rub against, little circles of
feeling. Of what Blair is making her feel, the way the orgasm is like an
oasis in the hottest, purest desert you could find. Crystal clear on the
horizon and way too far away.

Careful shift above her, around her, jarring spike of need as Blair's
fingers slip for a moment and then back into it, the spike integrating
into the whole, something, *something* and the kiss is just... God,
perfect part of it all, slow, not too gentle and rolling. Soft sense of
*round*. Curves and softnesses and wet heat. Humid little place
between their mouths, sweet sweet and Blair tastes like fries.

Going on forever, and Faith is moaning continuously into Blair's mouth
now, writhing a little, trying to get more and also more of just *this*.
Too sexy lack and when Blair suddenly slips his fingers down and *in*
Faith screams.

One thrust and she's coming, clamping probably much too hard on
Blair's fingers and she's yelling his name and arching up and just not
there. One instant of pure nothing where it's all OK and then she's
back to herself again. Panting.

*

Blair nods a little and he can smell her, that beautiful estuary smell...
that sea salt meets fresh water scent that said, "Come and get it."

She's still flexing, weakly, around his two fingers and he's smiling
again, because there's a lot of satisfaction in a job well done.

And if it's not *quite* the satisfaction his dick had in mind, well, he
was completely for equality on all fronts, thumbs up for ERA, but still,
still, it was 'ladies first'.

She smiles at him, her soft mouth curly with satisfaction.

"You're even more fun than I thought you'd be..."

"I graciously accept all compliments... but save them for later.  Please
folks," he murmurs, as he leans forward and scoots her back so her hips met
the carpet covering the dusty poured concrete floor of the Church again, "no
flash photography," and he flicks his tongue out to slip against the sweat
damp skin of her belly, "no autographs until the end of the show..."

Soft kisses, and she's gasping now, his fingers still inside, his mouth
against her skin.

"Your fucking mouth--" she mutters, and she sounds nearly angry, but
he knows she has nothing on her mind but pleasure.

Lush, fresh girl pleasure.

He nudges her tensing thighs apart and she sighs...

"Mmm, good *boy*..."

Let's see how good, Blair thinks.

Every willing woman is a chance to set a new personal best.

And this girl is going to go off like a pipe bomb if he can just figure
out--

Her hips snap with his first testing lap, and her pubic bone knocks
into his chin.

"Oh shit-- Blair--"

"No, no, it's okay."  He has to laugh.  "That's actually not the first
time that's happened."

She curls up and grabs his free hand, sets it against her hip.

"You can hold on tight as you want."

"Good," he smiles.  "Lay down, Faith."

*

And, oh, yeah, she can do it. Lay back on the thin carpeting -- way thicker
than her own, though -- and let the man do his thing 'cause his thing is
just... *fuck*.... "Just wait 'til I get you on your back."

Grinning wide when there's a distinctly unsmooth hitch in the way he
touches her. Just half a heartbeat, but enough to restore a *little*
confidence and then he's fucking her.

Great hands, strong knuckly hands that hit her everywhere but *fuck*
she would *kill* for his dick. Right now, deep inside and oh. Jesus. He's
down again and lapping at her. Licking long straight strokes with the
rough part of his tongue, scraping and pressing and moving in rhythm to
the steady fuck and --

"*Harder* --"

Doesn't tease this time, just gives it to her. One more finger inside
and stretching and *thrusts* in again and again and it hits that spot.
That one spot that's like... some kind of freakish *there* button. Touch
me there and I'll echo like a bell, just... just fucking *vibrate* and his
tongue won't quit and she can smell her sweat and sex all twined with
the incense and just wants to *rut* and fucks herself down and down
on his fingers.

Let him know what he's getting. What she craves and she wants to try
to slow down, keep from hurting him, bruising that incredible mouth
that's given up on the fancy stuff and is *sucking* her. Too soft too
soft just right, just a little scratch of the teeth everytime Faith
bucks too hard. Punishment and tease, all in one and her back is gonna
be one big rugburn and she's twisting on it now.

Moving on it, losing herself to it and she comes again with a long,
tenor wail, whipping her head back and forth and bucking like a
landed fish and doesn't give herself any time to regroup. Just.
Pounces.

*

Blair blinks up at her flushed, intent, weirdly sweet face and
wants to laugh again.

He's giving her that big eyed look, that "hey, don't hit me" look he
always uses on Jim, and god it's weird to be with someone who's younger
than he is. There's been quite a few older women... very few younger
ones.

"I'm ready to *go*," she purrs.

"Um.  I'm not."

"Bullshit," she pronounces, and rocks, nicely seated in the saddle of
his hips.

Blair clenches his eyes shut.

"I'm not going to do *anything* without a condom."

"You're *such* a pussy," Faith sighs.

And Blair laughs out loud.

"You're pretty hard to please, Faith."

"Oh, I don't think so.  Now, if you'd just *fuck* me..." and she pinches
his nipple, gives it a hot little twist and his cock sits up and begs but
Blair is in. Control.

"Look.  Come on.  Give me break, here.  I helped you out.  It's all good.
I don't have to fuck you--"

"Nobody has to do anything but die, Blair.  Jeez, come on, live a little.
Fuck me.  You know you want to..."

He lifts his head and kisses her, quick sweep of tongue against her
smooth teeth.

"You're right.  We both know you're right.  But it's just not gonna
happen."

She frowns at him, then tosses her head, rears back, so he's right
*there*, could be in her if he could just get the zipper down...

"Let me suck you off, then,  One good turn deserves another..."

"Jesus!"  He bucks a little and she falls forward, her tough little hands
squaring on his belly, shoving some of the air right out of him.

Taking a shaky breath, he says, "Look, I'll tell you what... You just...
stay... right where you are, and... kiss me.  Okay?  I swear, I'll come,
and we'll be even."

She laughs then and drops her head to brush her lips against his.

"You're the weirdest fuck I've ever had, Mr. Sandburg."

"Yeah, well.  It's been a very weird night."

*

God, how middle school. Half-dry hump and both just *wanting* and not
having and Faith just feels so guilty about it. Two mind-blowing orgasms
and she makes the guy come in his pants. Her slut reputation will be
damaged forever... though the whole church thing probably adds a few
points.

Thank you, God, wherever you are.

But, whatever, because Faith thinks she'd maybe need a crowbar to get
that dick out of Blair's pants and that would probably have just killed
the mood. So they're out here again, and Giles' condo complex thingie
is right around the corner and she's still got plenty of time to meet
B at the Bronze.

B is for Bronze Buffy Babe. Giggles a little. God *damn* but a good fuck
makes things all right.

Hums a little and ignores Blair's little chuckle. She supposes he has a
right to walk around just *knowing* he's good.

Gooses him on the ass just on general principles and earns an arm
around the waist. Just this random little sweetness that makes her
feel so warm she has to shiver. Tighter hold and a look she chooses not
to see in the dimness.

Silent for the last few hundred yards, and comfortable.

One last kiss just outside Giles' little courtyard and then to the
door. Gives Giles a wink and a wave and motors on.

Good, weird night.

*

Standing in the doorway is a tall, tweedy, sedate looking man.  One look and
Blair can tell this guy's a bookworm to the bone.

And then a second glance shows the man's wary posture, and his broad,
straight shoulders.

Bookworm with a blackbelt, maybe.

"So.  You're Rupert Giles.  Blair Sandburg.  It's an honor to meet you.  I
read your article in Plantagenet --"

"Ah, Mr. Sandburg.  I was... concerned when you didn't arrive at 5:30."

"Sorry I didn't call.  My car died... and uh... there were... other things."
He makes a vague gesture with his hand and Giles nods, staring past him to
follow Faith's lone form as she makes her way to the Bronze.

It's astonishingly hard not to give in to the impulse to turn around and
watch her walk away as well.  At least his shirt tails are long enough to
cover any embarrassing... stains.

"I can imagine.  Well, I'm glad you've arrived safely.  Please, won't you
come in?  Would you care for tea?"

"Tea would be good."

Giles nods at a fine boned red haired boy, who moves to the kitchen.

"Ah, how rude of me.  This is Oz.  Oz, this is Professor Blair
Sandburg --"

And Oz lifts his head, large brown eyes mild.  Sandburg sends a
smile his way, and the boy doesn't quite return it.  Instead his eyes
widen a fraction, and Blair sees his nostrils flare.

And in that moment, Blair and Oz stare at one another, and they each
know the other *knows*...

Blair finds himself taking a few steps toward the kitchen bar, about to
open his mouth and speak, but Oz just nods gravely, bows his head a
moment to fill the tea kettle at the tap, and lifts his eyes again.

"It's cool.  That's... Faith."

And his voice is slightly raspy, and yet Blair feels as if he's been
granted a brand of Red Haired Boy non-papal indulgence.

"Okay....  Uh.  Thanks."

"Not a problem.  Giles?  I'm meeting Will in ten."  And he sets the
kettle on the stove and wanders outside without another word.

Blair turns to find Giles' eyes on him, some light, focused color he
can't quite make out, and knows he's being measured.

"Look, Mr. Giles, I've had... a very weird night.  But maybe you can tell
me... is there something in the water here?  Genetic testing in this
town?  Because... I don't mind telling you, I'm getting a freaky vibe."

"Faith is --"

"Some kind of wonder woman.  And that Oz guy... does he have heightened
senses or what?"

Giles eyebrows climb a bit and he almost smiles.

"One might say that."

"Okay.  Okay then.  And might one also say that this is some kind of
engineered colony of Nietzchean supermen, or what?"

"That, I can safely assure you, is not the case, Mr. Sandburg."

"Uh, just Blair is fine."

"Blair it is, then."

"So..."

"You have questions."

"Yes.  Yes I do."

"Well, I'll see what I can tell you.  But I must ask for your silence on
any of the matters we discuss here."

"That I can guarantee."

The kettle whistles and that comfortable, shrill sound relaxes Blair.

He drops down on a chair without waiting for an invitation.

"I'll take your word, Mr. -- Blair.  I've done some research.  I
believe you're trustworthy."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome.  Now... Irish Breakfast or Earl Gray?"

END