Title: Two Hours Left
Author: Clannadlvr (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Rating: R (for language and implied sexual situations)
Spoilers: General Highlander, Buffy season 7
Feedback: Feedback is yummy…so please feed me! This is the first fic I’ve written specifically for TTH…I’d love to know what you think!
Synopsis: A response to the “20 minutes with Faith” Challenge. A slayer’s sojourn turns interesting…
A/N: I do not own ANYTHING from BtVS or Highlander…so please don’t sue! This is just for fun!
Her blood sings as she parries and thrusts, fencing reduced to the primal level of blood, bruises, grunts, and sweat.
She surprises her opponent with a right cross, nimbly shifting her blade to the opposite hand to make the strike. Her victory is only momentary as he recovers quickly, a well placed roundhouse kick delivering her to the opposite wall with a sickening thud.
Damn, she could get used to this.
In the corner of her mind, separate from the battle before her, she lets herself think about her situation and she’s surprised to find regret that it’s almost over. Two weeks at a dojo in “where-the-fuck-is-Seacouver-anyway?-Washington,” getting her ass handed to her on a silver platter 5 times a day-
-and loving every minute of it.
For the first time since Sunnydale sank into the ground, Faith is having fun
. Who knows how the hell it happened, but Giles’ suggestion that she go meet some friends of his for extra training sessions- now that there were more Potentials than her ex fuck-buddies, her absence from the new Hellmouth isn’t a big deal- has actually turned out to be a good one. For two weeks, she hasn’t needed to coddle a bunch of kids on how to be a Slayer. Damn difficult job considering she’s really only figured out how to truly be a Slayer herself in the past few months.
Nancy-Scottish-fuck just threw her down AGAIN!
Well, serves her right for thinking when she should be just moving.
Faith watches as his grin turns Cheshire, then quickly schools itself into that aggravating Miyagi-wax-on-wax-off-shit he loves to throw in her face. It’s frustrating as hell…
…especially since all she wants to do is screw that smug smile off his beautiful mug as she grips his damn ponytail and rides both of them into ecstasy.
Hey, she’s hot for teacher, what can she say?
And then there’s that regret again…their two weeks are moments from being “up” and she still hasn’t gotten a bite of the Scottish shortbread that has challenged, aggravated, and aroused her since her plane landed in Washington.
But…she still has two hours before the cab comes to pick her up and take her to the airport…to the plane that will deliver her back to the new Hellmouth…to the potentials…and responsibility…and girl talks at 3 am with a group of newly activated Slayers whose eyes burn with violence, fear, need, and love…
Might as well use those two hours well.
Besides, Faith thinks to herself and she throws down the borrowed katana and advances on her opponent, hips swaying from side to side- he’s yet to see her best moves.
She bites back a grin as she watches the awareness and acceptance seep into his eyes…subdues the look of triumph in her gaze as he too throws down his blade and advances toward her on the mat, his intent meeting hers, agreeing to the terms.
Suddenly two hours looks like not enough time at all.