I don't own any of the characters from Buffy/ATS. I don't own characters from Highlander or SG-1, the shows that I currently plan to cross. This disclaimer will be edited to reflect any further crosses that the muse may indicate. All characters must return to their rightful owners after their cameos.
“Stupid, fucking bike!” Faith stood over the Harley-Davidson motorcycle with her hands on her hips and frustration plastered all over her face. “Dammit all. Eighteen miles from my destination, and you decide to dump me out in the middle of fucking nowhere.”
Fucking nowhere was a cliff side overlooking a pristine view of the rocky outcroppings of the Pacific Ocean roughly halfway up the Oregon coastline. Faith had no patience for the view that tens of thousands of other tourists flocked every year to see. Eighteen miles away was a six year old slayer that Faith was responsible for working with two weeks every quarter-year. Giles had found a martial arts instructor in her tiny town and paid him to train her privately, three hours a week. Faith met with her eight weeks a year for intensive weapons training, since the master did not teach weapons. Faith trained eighteen other slayers ranging in age from three to fifty-eight years in six cities and towns up and down the Pacific Coast. Her beloved Harley had been her constant companion for the four years she had done this job – starting from the day she had found her now ex-husband Robin Wood screwing Olivia in their bed in Cleveland. It was the first time her faithful Blue – her name for the electric blue bike – had cheated her.
Faith had started to dial triple-A on her cell when she heard the tell-tale rumble of another Harley pulling up behind her. She dropped the knife in her arm sheath into her hand and turned to face the newcomer. Most of the bikers she ran into were friendly and helpful, but every so often she ran into men who looked on a lone female biker as potential victim, not a fellow traveler. She had disabused all of them of that notion, leaving most of them with aching nuts and broken bones. Then there were the biker demons and transient vamps – they were the real problems – but it being broad daylight, most of the unfriendly demon sorts were down in their caves and sewers.
The man hopped off his bike and approached and Faith felt a tingling up her spine – not the icy cold that warned her of a vamp or the warm flush that announced a mini-me. It felt more like a brush of cool silk across her back. She shrugged it off – most unfriendly demons felt like icy chills to her slaydar – this was either a were, a neutral demon, or something else altogether. When the man pulled off his helmet, she was struck by his sandy reddish-blond hair and blue-green eyes. He looked more like a late-teenage boy than a man. There was no hint of subterfuge in his warm smile. He was pulling off black riding gloves as he approached and clearly held no weapon in his hands. “Bike trouble, ma'am?”
Reviews appreciated. I'm trying my hand at ficlets since I have a newborn. Encouragement will lead to more shorts.