I'm Here for the Party

By PaBurke

Summary: Heard the song-Thought of Faith. The song-fic I swore I wouldn't do, but see? No sap.

Disclaimer: I own neither Faith nor the song. Faith is Joss Whedon's and the song is Gretchen Wilson's, the X-Men are someone else's too. I get no money, therefore I have no money to take. For pleasure only.

Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth

Crossover: X-Men

Spoilers: BtVS- could be just about anytime that Faith is not in jail and not in Sunnydale. Same could be said for the X-Men only for Westchester

Rating: PG-15 for Faith, maybe higher, Faith is a hard-core type of girl

A honky-tonk wasn't quite Faith's preference, but the alcohol was normally good and the cowboys were normally frisky at a place like this. She could hear the music half way down the street. The local cemetery only had one wandering vamp, which was now dust. Even the undead considered this to be a one-horse town.

So Faith had a bored itch and not a post-slayin' horniness. She walked into the joint like she owned the place.

Well I'm an eight ball shooting double fisted drinking son of a gun
I wear My jeans a little tight
Just to watch the little boys come undone

She was noticed.

The first guy to notice her was playing pool. He scratched and the pool stick embedded itself in the table and bounced back and knocked the guy in the temple. The second guy to notice her poured his beer down his front. The third guy tried to play it cool. He set down his drink and offered an interested smirk. He missed the barstool he was aiming for and landed on the floor.

One would think that they had never seen a female in tight jeans and a strapless leather corset before.

I'm here for the beer and the ball busting band
Gonna get a little crazy just because I can

Faith sidled up to the bar. She pinched a butt cheek of the nearest guy, whose breath was a little too strong and ordered a beer for starters.

The band wasn't half-bad, in the middle of an instrumental. Country-not her thing. But she could get into drums and guitars, just as long as they kept their mouths shut.

She looked at the crowd behind her through the mirror at the back of the bar. Most eyes were on her, so she wiggled her hips to the music.

Jaws dropped.

This was going to be fun.

You know I'm here for the party
And I ain't leavin' 'til they throw me out
Gonna have a little fun, gonna get me some
You know I'm here, I'm here for the party

Bad Breath got a little too close so Faith shoved him over a barstool and onto the floor. She picked up her beer and stepped over the prone drunk. She was looking for her prey.

The poker game in the middle of the room seemed like a prime hunting ground. Four decent-looking guys, all under the age of thirty, watching her approach.

She sauntered up. "Is this seat taken?"

There was no extra chair, but that never stopped her. One of the cowboys stammered, 'no' and all four stood to invite her to join them. Ah, gentlemen. One was reaching for a chair from another table.

Faith pushed the nearest man on her left-unknown hair color, his hat was black- back into his chair and straddled him. "Thanks, I think I'll take this one."

I may not be a ten but the boys say I clean up good
And if I gave 'em half a chance for some rowdy romance you know they would
I've been waiting all week just to have a good time
So bring on them cowboys and their pick up lines

He looked startled at her forwardness. He was trying to ignore the skin and cleavage she deliberately positioned at eye-level.

Faith took the opportunity to study him. He was shorter than the other men and had muscles upon muscles and not just the type you got from living in a gym. He had noticed her early in the game but had just studied her; no jaw dropping, no panting. From her new vantage point she could tell that he had black hair. He seemed to have a streak of the un-tamed in him.

Perfect.

"Darling," he rested his hands carefully on her hips, "you're a stranger to these parts."

Faith leaned back, letting him hold her as she took a swig from her drink. "Just passin' through."

"Lookin' for fun?" He was testing her limits.

Faith used her free hand to get a good hold of his hair. She pulled his face close. "Oh, yeah."

You know I'm here for the party
And I ain't leavin' 'til they throw me out
Gonna have a little fun, gonna get me some
You know I'm here, I'm here for the party

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Faith leaned back again and gulped down the last of her beer. "Sounds good to me."

He waved down a waitress. "What it'll be?"

She dropped her beer bottle on the table and ignored it as it rolled toward the floor. Her new prey moved quickly and placed it on the waitress' platter. "Jack Daniels on the rocks." Her eyes narrowed. He moved too fast but she could feel his hot breath and his pulse in her bones.

He paid the waitress from his winnings. Then he looked her over.

"I'm Logan."

Faith snorted. "What do they really call you?"

He smirked. "Wolverine."

Don't want no purple hooter shooter just some jack on the rocks
Don't mind me if I start that trashy talk

Faith trailed a hand down his chest, enjoying every defined muscle. "Wolverine, do you have a den near-by?"

He handed her her drink to shut her up. "Do you have a name?"

"Faith."

"What do they really call you?" he shot back.

"Slayer."

He didn't look surprised and he didn't make an off-color joke. If anything he looked a little wary. "Whatcha huntin'?" His tone was a little too casual.

By this time her hand had reached the waistband of his jeans. "Just one thing."

He nodded. "Then darlin', I think we can accommodate you."

"Then I'm five by five."

You know I'm here for the party
And I ain't leavin' 'til they throw me out
Gonna have a little fun, gonna get me some
You know I'm here, I'm here for the party