QUE SERA, SERA (9/?)
 

Faith pushed past the people, glaring at them as they cursed her in Italian.
They had better be glad that she didn't know what they were saying or she
might just have to kick some ass. She hurried after Wesley, wondering what
the hell had happened to him. He had kissed her. Sure, it had been a kiss
full of irritation and was intended to shut her up, but it had been a kiss.
Wesley was not supposed to kiss and especially not a brief heated, searing
kiss that made her want more. That was definitely not part of the watcher job
description. Well, she honestly had never seen a watcher job description but
doubted that it would include kissing slayers.
 

Wesley heard more cursing, biting back a smile as he heard a man go off on
Faith after having bumped into her. He heard his slayer growl at the man as
she continued to follow him through the throng of people in the small pub he
had entered. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, frowning at Faith.
"What?"
 

"Hold up," she said, glaring at him. "What's the big hurry? Running some race
I was unaware of?"
 

"Trying to get away from you," he said sweetly.
 

"Fine. Fuck you then," she said, the tingle on her lips from his kiss
disappearing rapidly as anger and something too close to disappointment
filled her.
 

"Can you speak without cursing?" he asked dryly.
 

"What bug flew up your ass?" she demanded.
 

"And again you demonstrate your mastery of the English language," he said,
looking heavenward.
 

"I get it. You don't want me around. I can take the hint," she said, her eyes
flashing. "Maybe we can swtich with the others. You can have Miss Perfect
Slayer, the stupid dyed blond bitch. I bet Giles wouldn't hate me."
 

"There will be no switch," Wesley said, glaring at her. "You are my slayer,
so deal with it."
 

"As if I couldn't handle you," she shot back, moving closer to him as the
crowd became larger. "That's a laugh."
 

"You couldn't even come close, little girl," Wesley said smoothly, not
allowing her to lead him into another argument. He turned, finally seeing a
table near the back. He moved towards it, leaving her standing in the middle
of the floor looking after him like a stunned fish.
 

"Wait just a minute," Faith said, sitting down beside him. "What the fuck do
you mean, little girl? I've had more experiences in my eighteen years than
you have in your however old you are years!"
 

Wesley looked at her, his expression lofty, "I can assure you that you have
not."
 

Faith snorted, "Whatever, Wussy. Keep telling yourself that you've actually
had a life."
 

"You know nothing about me," Wesley said sharply. "And somehow I think that
if we delved into the truth behind your *experiences* we'd know exactly who
the little girl was."
 

"What exactly are you insinuating?" Faith demanded.
 

"I'm not suggesting anything," Wesley said, seeing the waitress on her way
over. "I'm flat out calling you a liar. I wouldn't be surprised if you were a
virgin."
 

Before Faith could respond to his smug little grin, the waitress was there to
take their order. Faith glared at him, wishing she could just slap that smile
of his handsome face. Wait a minute. Wesley is not handsome, Faith. You hate
the arrogant little priss, she scolded herself. She found her eyes drawn to
his mouth as he read over the menu, remembering what it felt like against
hers. She scowled, hating him even more for suddenly finding a spine and
becoming so rude and intriguing and attractive.
 

Next