Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine.
Summary: Traditions: a glance into The Council
A/N: Takes place about 5 years after Chosen. All other cross over time-lines are out of cannon to suit this story.
The title of this is taken from a Carl Sandburg poem “Woman with a Past”
2/7: There was a woman spoke six short words
And quit a life that was old to her
For a life that was new.
Dean smirked at Sam across the room. Little Brother was chatting up a girl in the corner and if Dean was a betting man, which he was, he’d bet they were talking about something brainy that was sure to put him to sleep quicker that he could say hello.
“Sugar, stop scowling. A girl’s bound to think you ain’t glad to see her.”
He turns to smile at her and ends up whistling. She smirks appreciating his speechlessness.
“Damn girl, you clean up nice.”
She leans to hug him and kiss him on the cheek with those red lips.
“Why thank you, sugar.” She preens at his befuddlement. “It’s nice to know this old hag still got a few tricks up her sleeve to leave a man wordless. Even if it’s you.”
He scowls back genially.
“Why thank you Faith. You always know just what to say to a fella.”
But she does look amazing in her red dress. He can even see she’s put on heels and her painted toes peek out under the hem of her dress. Unsurprisingly they’re the same colour red as her lips. He believes that she had once told him the colour is called Harlot. It’s her favourite. He’s startled out of his thoughts by a thud on his shoulder and his eyes focus on a proffered drink.
“My man. Glad you guys made it.”
Xander is there and he’s put on a tux and Dean can’t help but agree with the mini slayers who’ve been whispering that he looks like Bond tonight. They shake hands and half hug like the real men that they are.
“Xander. Good to see you. I was just giving my compliments to the lady but she was having none of it.”
Xander laughs and smiles as Faith wraps a proprietary arm around his waist.
“I keep tellin’ the fool I’m a one man woman now. He’s like slow on the uptake, ya know?”
Xander grins comfortably and Dean shrugs. Faith plants a kiss on Xander and Dean is left a little uncomfortable at the heat of the thing. Grinning like the Cheshire cat she leans away.
“I’ll leave you two fine looking gents to chat. Gotta make the rounds, make with the glad-handing or I won’t hear the end of it.”
They watch her saunter off into the crowd appreciating the sway of her walk.
“You’re a lucky man Xander.”
Xander raises his glass to that and they drink.
Side by side they watch the crowded ballroom and Dean fidgets with his tie.
“Thanks for the tip last month. Really helped us out.”
“As promised. Glad it worked out. Where’s your brother?”
Dean shrugs towards the corner across the room. Sam and the girl are still deep into their conversation.
“He’s found something more entertaining than me tonight.”
“That’s Hermione. She’s a brainy type. Met her people couple of years back, helped them out of a jam.”
Dean tips his head in acknowledgment.
“Don’t you always.”
They raise their glasses again. Xander is laconic.
“That’s the gig.”