Title: Welcome to the Hellmouth Now Go Home!
Summary: This is a sequel to Capture. You don't really need to read it to understand this. Post chosen Wes left LA with Faith when she went to Sunnydale. It's my happy little world where no one I like has died. But this won't be all hugs puppies!
Disclaimer: This is done for fun and I'm not making money off what is not mine.
Rating: I'm going to call this "Adult" Faith has a mouth on her and I don't know what they'll get up to later.
Faith took the last stick of gum and threw the empty pack away. It was a good thing that the trip was almost over and her ears had finally stopped popping. Wes had gone quiet so she watched the scenery pass by. It was like an Easter basket or something. The trees had bright new leaves and a lot of them had pink and white blossoms. There were dogwood, azaleas, and who knows what kind of flowers growing along the road. She'd read some stuff on gardening in prison but she wasn't the flowery type. The idea of being in the sun with her hands in the dirt might appeal to her, but not for the sake of putting something pretty in a vase to die.
She really wished Wes had timed it so that they'd hit town at night. The prettiness was making her itch; especially because she knew it was a sham. Beneath it all was a gate to hell. That and all the traveling had her feeling tense and confined; it would be good to get out and stretch her legs. Slay something.
Wes had spent a lot of the trip trying to convince her, and himself, that being sent to Nowhere, North Carolina was not a punishment for their sins. The truth was that Faith didn't give a shit where she lived. Rio might've been fun, especially with Wes for company, but Buffy and Spike could keep Rome; she figured anyplace that close to the Pope couldn't be much fun. All she really needed was a job to do, and according to the coven Nowhere had the friskiest Hellmouth going. She'd be fine, Wes would be the first one climbing the walls. Under all the sexy new scruffy he was civilized; the lack of anything but country on the radio was bound to make him crazy.
"I think we're almost there, but it might be a good idea to stop and get some gas," Wes said. The gas station he pulled into was called Pete's and it did triple duty as a gas station, convenience store and produce stand.
"They've got green stuff here I never even heard of. What's a ramp?" Faith picked up a bundle and wrinkled her nose, "I mean, besides stinky and green."
Without even looking up from the piece of wood he was whittling, the old guy that who was working there explained, "Tastes like a cross between onion and garlic. A touch strong for some, but a girl like you ought to like it."
"I don't know. Do you think it'll keep away the vamps, Wes?" Faith joked.
"It's the garlic flowers that are supposed to repel the demons. Makes a bit of sense, a bulb of garlic doesn't see the sun until it's dug up, but a flower belongs in the light." Then the old man looked up so that Faith could see his cataract covered eyes shaded by the John Deere cap he wore. "Course I'd rather trust a nice, sharp piece of wood. Listen here, some things that come out at night you can scare away, others you need to kill. If you're not prepared to do that it's best you stay home nights."
Most people would have been creeped out by this, but Faith was only surprised. She and Wes had agreed to keep a low profile so Faith kept it casual, "Yeah well, the streets probably roll up at nine around here anyway."
He gave one rusty laugh and said, "You might be surprised, missy."
"What we really need, sir," Wes asked. "Are directions to Stairway Road. We're renting the McCray place for a few months." This effectively changed the subject as it took the old man fifteen minutes to give directions for an eight-mile trip.
After they got back into the car Faith said, "That was different, sort of like that bumper sticker- welcome to the Hellmouth, now go home!"
"Yes, and I wonder if all the locals are this aware of the Hellmouth or if it's just him."
"He didn't feel like a demon. Maybe he just likes to scare the tourists?" Faith asked doubtfully.
"Faith, he was carving a stake."
"Oh," Faith laughed and Wes joined her. It really wasn't that funny, but she laughed hard enough to be gasping for air. When Faith could breath again, and it looked like Wes had wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes Faith asked, "Was that first turn at the old oak or the barn?"
Wes said, "I have no idea."
"You didn't need his directions, did you?"
"Of course not." Wes sounded a little insulted at the idea. As if she should've trusted that he would plan ahead.
"What're you waiting for then? Take us home, babe."
"Babe?" Wes asked with a smirk. "I thought you told Buffy we had a working relationship?"
"Well yeah, it works don't it?" The night before Sunnydale became a sinkhole Wes had collected that backrub she owed him. She ended up rubbing a whole lot more. She should've wanted to run, and maybe if he'd said he loved her loved her she would've. He was the first man Faith had ever fucked that she knew deep down wouldn't fuck her over. The betrayal had already played out on both sides. The trust might not make sense to anyone else but it was solid. And honestly, they did work great together.
"I think it works very well indeed."
Someday, Faith promised herself, she would have him read the phonebook in bed to see if it would get her hot. When they passed a trailer with two dishes in the front yard she decided it would be a good idea to change the subject, "So, Watcher-babe, does this rental have satellite?"
"I think the realtor said it did. I hope I wasn't misled. I'm not very demanding about where I stay but I wanted it to have space for us to train, and a place to research. "
Thirty miles back they'd had lunch in a mid-sized town outside a ski resort. Wes had said there was a college there too. So the Hellmouth had a steady diet of students and tourists. But around Nowhere itself most of the homes not on wheels looked like they'd been there since the first settler decided his mule couldn't make it up any higher.
At the top of Stairway Road was a log home. Calling it a cabin would have been a lie, it was more like a mansion made of life-sized Lincoln Logs. "Wes, you blackmailed Giles? I'm impressed!"
"How did you get him to spring for this place then?"
"I convinced him the extra room and the indoor pool was necessary for the job," Wes said, avoiding her eyes. Faith figured that meant he was paying for it and didn't want to admit it. "This promises to be a very active Hellmouth. It will be beneficial after patrol."
"Is there anything saying we have to wait until after patrol?"
"Nothing in writing, no."
"And it's clean and ready to use?"
"It should be."
Faith unbuttoned her top as soon as she was in the door. "I'd say the last one in is a rotten egg. But I don't know where I'm going, and you probably have the blueprints memorized."
"I'll give you a head start."