Title: A Lack of Belief
Summary: At first glance, things aren’t always what they seem.
Notes: Set after Buffy Season Seven and Pre-Series Supernatural
Disclaimer: "A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend." - I do not own any of the characters in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and/or Angel the Series, they belong to Fox, the WB/UPN, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. The characters of Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke, The WB, The CW, etc. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
Written for: silentflux
who requested SPN/Buffy – when Faith meets John.
Faith tensed, fingers tightening against the bottle in her hand, as she heard the unmistakable scuff of a boot on the wood floor behind her. Her knife was strapped to her left ankle, close enough for her to easily reach in her half-kneeling position. Her fingers itched to reach for it, to spin on her knee and confront the stranger behind her, but she silently remained as she was.
“There isn’t anything of value in here,” a gruff voice crawled over her as the stranger finally spoke. Faith’s fingers relaxed slightly around the bottle she was holding. So the parishioner thought she was a thief, better that than the truth of why she was here raiding Pastor Jim’s holy water stash.
“Go on and stand up slowly,” he ordered her and she gave a slight nod before she rose to her feet, slowly turning with the bottle of holy water still clutched in her hand.
The 9mm easily held in the man’s hand was the first thing she saw. Her heart sped up as she realized she wasn’t dealing with a member of Pastor Jim’s congregation. She forced herself to look up past the gun trained on her and to the face of the man standing between her and the exit.
He was older, old enough to be her father at least, gray peppering his dark facial hair and creeping back from his temples. She wanted to kick her libido for thinking he was hot enough to do even with the gun trained on her. He was curiously eyeing the bottle in her hand before his gaze dropped to the knapsack that she’d left at her feet.
“What else do you have in there?”
“Two bottles of holy water,” she answered honestly. “If you’d be willing to put the gun away, I’d be happy to show you,” she added keeping her eyes on his face, trying to judge his reaction.
“Faith?” Pastor Jim’s voice called out from the center of the church and the man’s stance visibly relaxed. Hunter
immediately sprung to mind and she was angry at herself for not recognizing it sooner. She’d never run into one before, but Pastor Jim insisted they were out there as well.
Pastor Jim’s soft footsteps preceded his appearance in the doorway. “Put the gun down, John,” Pastor Jim immediately scolded the man.
John hesitated for a second before he flicked the safety on and lowered the gun to his side. “She’s stealing your holy water,” he explained, and she could have sworn he sounded petulant about it.
“Faith came to refill her supply,” Pastor Jim answered and pushed his way around John
to join her in the room. “It’s been too long, my child,” he addressed her and easily pulled her into a hug.
Faith immediately tensed at the endearment and physical contact. She didn’t enjoy coming here, not because she disliked Pastor Jim, but because she never felt comfortable in the Church.
“First time I could make it this way in a couple of months,” she offered a weak explanation accompanied by a small, awkward shrug after he pulled back.
“She does know she can make her own, right?” John blurted out. Pastor Jim looked back at him and John cleared his throat. “I mean, you taught me, so it can’t be that hard,” he quickly amended.
Pastor Jim turned his head back to face Faith and she frowned at the pity she saw staring back at her. It was a never-ending issue between herself and Pastor Jim. He had assured her that she had atoned for her sins, and she couldn’t believe that she would ever be forgiven. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and stared down John. “It is if you don’t believe,” she calmly replied before she turned her back on both men and resumed stocking up her bag.
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