Post-Chosen, not comics compliant. Faith goes to visit Wes at Wolfram and Hart
"You ever take your nose out of that book, Wes?" She finally spoke. She was getting antsy standing in his doorway, waiting for him to notice someone was staring holes into him.
Wes looked up from his book. More research for Angel. He didn't mind since he had an entire department and mystical books from several dimension to assist him. He was slightly taken aback at the sight in his office. "Faith?"
"In the sexy flesh. What's shakin'?" Faith said as she sauntered into his office. She kicked the door shut behind her before dropping into the seat across from him, a wide grin on her face. The florescent lights seemed to make the bruises across her face darker, the circles under her eyes more pronounced, and the wounds across her face pop out of her skin.
"What are you doing here?" Wesley was stunned to see his former charge. She looked like she had been in the fight of her life. News from Sunnydale had been scarce. He wasn't sure if that was Wolfram and Hart's doing or if it was that the news was so grim. He could imagine that Faith would have been the only one to survive. That is what she did. Survive.
"I'm interviewing for your personal assistant job. I can't type for shit. Can't file either. But I got no problem wearing tight clothing and sitting on the edge of your desk." She grinned like the cat that ate the canary, wanting to see his reaction to her words. She loved that shook up look he would sometimes get, his face showing a mix of surprise and confusion.
And there it was. It passed quickly over Wesley's face, but he was not the same man he had been in Sunnydale. She knew that. He had seen the darkness in himself and he hadn't fought it. He wondered if she could admire that in him. "Well, the position has been filled." He replied, sounding as if he took her seriously.
"Damn, that sucks. What with Sunnydale being a big ol' crater of nothing and Buffy taking little sis off to who the hell knows where, I need something to keep me off the streets, keep me out of trouble." She picked the letter opener up off his desk and started cleaning under her nails.
"I am sure Angel can get you a job in the mail room since you seem to be so fond of my letter opener." He watched her as she played with it, toyed with it, spinning it between her fingers. He could never tell if she wanted to fuck him or kill him. In a way, that was exciting.
"Oh yeah, already stopped by to see him. Brooding in his office, muttering about ghosts or some shit. Still can't get over the Manilow thing. Or the puppy thing." She pushed her foot against his desk to make her chair lean back as she chuckled to herself.
"I don't think Wolfram and Hart is the place for you." He wasn't sure it was the place for any of them. He was having his doubts but he would keep those to himself. There was something about this place. He just knew they would never get out alive.
She gave him a lascivious grin. She hadn't invented the look, but she damn near perfected it. "Oh come on, I bet you got a position for me. Something you can fill. How about we get a couple of beers, a couple of steaks, and we can talk about me giving you a raise?"
Wesley looked across his desk at her for several long moments. He closed the book with a loud thud and got up. He grabbed his coat off the rack, slipping it on. "I think I have a few positions to put you into."