punch_kicker15 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
punch_kicker15) wrote2016-08-27 08:54 am
punch_kicker15) wrote2016-08-27 08:54 am
Entry tags:
Warmth, Faith/Kennedy, PG-13
Title: Warmth
Author: punch_kicker15
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Relationships: Faith/Kennedy
Summary: Kennedy and Faith, Post-Chosen, on a cold night in Cleveland.
Word count: 801
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash_minis, for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
carlyinrome, who wanted the pairing, born under a bad sign, fire, and the color red and didn't want boys or an unhappy ending.
Faith brushes snow from her hair and hurries inside. All of her years in So-Cal must have made her soft. Even after a night of running down demons, the Midwestern chill bites into her bones, making her fingers and toes ache. She can’t remember even noticing the snow and cold in back in Boston.
Kennedy’s sitting at the kitchen table by the fireplace, looking at something on her laptop. The firelight gives her pale skin a reddish glow. “There’s pizza on the counter. And I bought more beer.”
Faith goes to the kitchen and grabs a few slices. Sausage and mushroom, her favorite. It’s been six months since she moved in, and it’s still kind of freaky to have someone notice what she likes. Between that and the swanky apartment, sometimes it feels a little too close to the Bad Old Days.
She doesn’t bother looking in the fridge because she knows exactly what will be there: Keystone and some kind of fancy super-bitter beer because that’s how Kenn rolls. But a cold beer is the last thing she needs right now. She grabs a bottle of Jack D and a glass.
She sits down next to Kenn, angling as close as she can to the fire.
Kenn scowls at the laptop. “The Council updated the Slayer Handbook. They want all of us to learn astrology.”
If this is the biggest complaint about The Council, then B and the Scoobies are doing ok with it. But Kenn takes this Slayer stuff seriously, so Faith keeps her mouth shut. She contents herself with the simple pleasures of booze and pizza and looking down Kenn’s sweater. Today it’s the red sports bra, and her cleavage is wicked hot.
Kenn grumbles, “I mean, I know that some of the mystical crap works. But half of this stuff is just plain wrong.” She glances down at the screen again. “Your birthday’s October 28th, right?”
“Yep.” Wait, how did Kenn know that?
“You’re a Scorpio. It says here that Capricorns and Scorpios are unlucky.”
Faith laughs. “Mom always said I was born under a bad sign.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but your mom was full of shit. And so are the astrologers. I’m a Capricorn and there’s no way I’m unlucky.”
Kenn’s right about that. She won the parental lottery. Instead of having superpowers sprung upon her, the way Faith and B did, she got a Watcher to prepare her. She didn’t get called until there were thousands of other girls to share the burden of Slayerhood. It’s like she’s got a hoard of rabbits’ feet or horseshoes or those Chinese restaurant cats hidden in a vault somewhere.
Faith downs some whiskey, welcoming the slow burn down her throat. “That all? They tell you two signs are unlucky, and that’s it?”
Kennedy taps the keyboard. “No, there are personality blurbs, too. ‘Scorpios are known for their tenacity and ambition. They refuse to let anything stand in the way of accomplishing their goals. They’re also known for the intensity of their true feelings, which they keep hidden under a cool and calm demeanor--”
Faith laughs. “Calm? Aw, and they were doing so well up to there. See what you mean about the wrongness.” She takes another swig of whiskey, lets it burn her mouth a little before she swallows.
Kennedy scrunches up her face in disgust. “Ugh, Listen what it says about Capricorns. ‘Known for their stability, Capricorns excel at tasks that require reliability and laser-sharp focus. They can be trusted with a great deal of independence.’”
She pushes the laptop away. “This makes it sound like I’m as boring as Sam Finn.”
“You’re wilder in the sack,” Faith says, with a lilt in her voice that makes it sound like a joke. It’s true, but she’s not ready to explain how she knows that.
Kenn just rolls her eyes at her. ”Well, duh.”
“Cheer up. We can’t all be non-stop fun machines. Someone’s got to keep the home fires burning. If it was up to me we’d be surviving on pixie sticks and Cheetos and sleeping in a ditch somewhere.” Between the fire and the whiskey, her hands are finally starting to warm up; they’re just chilly now, not painful. She runs a cold finger along Kenn’s neck.
Kenn yelps and grabs Faith’s hand, moves it down to her thigh. Faith grins. Kenn’s one of the least subtle women Faith knows. But Faith can be even less subtle. She strokes the inside of Kenn’s thigh, feeling heat through the rough denim.
Kenn slams the laptop closed, and turns and kisses her hard. “Ok, whiskey-breath, I’ve had enough work for tonight. I think we should go to bed now.”
Faith smirks. “Why? You feeling lucky?”
“Always.” Kenn flashes her a feral grin in response. “Always.”
Author: punch_kicker15
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Relationships: Faith/Kennedy
Summary: Kennedy and Faith, Post-Chosen, on a cold night in Cleveland.
Word count: 801
Notes: Written for
femslash_minis, for carlyinrome, who wanted the pairing, born under a bad sign, fire, and the color red and didn't want boys or an unhappy ending.Faith brushes snow from her hair and hurries inside. All of her years in So-Cal must have made her soft. Even after a night of running down demons, the Midwestern chill bites into her bones, making her fingers and toes ache. She can’t remember even noticing the snow and cold in back in Boston.
Kennedy’s sitting at the kitchen table by the fireplace, looking at something on her laptop. The firelight gives her pale skin a reddish glow. “There’s pizza on the counter. And I bought more beer.”
Faith goes to the kitchen and grabs a few slices. Sausage and mushroom, her favorite. It’s been six months since she moved in, and it’s still kind of freaky to have someone notice what she likes. Between that and the swanky apartment, sometimes it feels a little too close to the Bad Old Days.
She doesn’t bother looking in the fridge because she knows exactly what will be there: Keystone and some kind of fancy super-bitter beer because that’s how Kenn rolls. But a cold beer is the last thing she needs right now. She grabs a bottle of Jack D and a glass.
She sits down next to Kenn, angling as close as she can to the fire.
Kenn scowls at the laptop. “The Council updated the Slayer Handbook. They want all of us to learn astrology.”
If this is the biggest complaint about The Council, then B and the Scoobies are doing ok with it. But Kenn takes this Slayer stuff seriously, so Faith keeps her mouth shut. She contents herself with the simple pleasures of booze and pizza and looking down Kenn’s sweater. Today it’s the red sports bra, and her cleavage is wicked hot.
Kenn grumbles, “I mean, I know that some of the mystical crap works. But half of this stuff is just plain wrong.” She glances down at the screen again. “Your birthday’s October 28th, right?”
“Yep.” Wait, how did Kenn know that?
“You’re a Scorpio. It says here that Capricorns and Scorpios are unlucky.”
Faith laughs. “Mom always said I was born under a bad sign.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but your mom was full of shit. And so are the astrologers. I’m a Capricorn and there’s no way I’m unlucky.”
Kenn’s right about that. She won the parental lottery. Instead of having superpowers sprung upon her, the way Faith and B did, she got a Watcher to prepare her. She didn’t get called until there were thousands of other girls to share the burden of Slayerhood. It’s like she’s got a hoard of rabbits’ feet or horseshoes or those Chinese restaurant cats hidden in a vault somewhere.
Faith downs some whiskey, welcoming the slow burn down her throat. “That all? They tell you two signs are unlucky, and that’s it?”
Kennedy taps the keyboard. “No, there are personality blurbs, too. ‘Scorpios are known for their tenacity and ambition. They refuse to let anything stand in the way of accomplishing their goals. They’re also known for the intensity of their true feelings, which they keep hidden under a cool and calm demeanor--”
Faith laughs. “Calm? Aw, and they were doing so well up to there. See what you mean about the wrongness.” She takes another swig of whiskey, lets it burn her mouth a little before she swallows.
Kennedy scrunches up her face in disgust. “Ugh, Listen what it says about Capricorns. ‘Known for their stability, Capricorns excel at tasks that require reliability and laser-sharp focus. They can be trusted with a great deal of independence.’”
She pushes the laptop away. “This makes it sound like I’m as boring as Sam Finn.”
“You’re wilder in the sack,” Faith says, with a lilt in her voice that makes it sound like a joke. It’s true, but she’s not ready to explain how she knows that.
Kenn just rolls her eyes at her. ”Well, duh.”
“Cheer up. We can’t all be non-stop fun machines. Someone’s got to keep the home fires burning. If it was up to me we’d be surviving on pixie sticks and Cheetos and sleeping in a ditch somewhere.” Between the fire and the whiskey, her hands are finally starting to warm up; they’re just chilly now, not painful. She runs a cold finger along Kenn’s neck.
Kenn yelps and grabs Faith’s hand, moves it down to her thigh. Faith grins. Kenn’s one of the least subtle women Faith knows. But Faith can be even less subtle. She strokes the inside of Kenn’s thigh, feeling heat through the rough denim.
Kenn slams the laptop closed, and turns and kisses her hard. “Ok, whiskey-breath, I’ve had enough work for tonight. I think we should go to bed now.”
Faith smirks. “Why? You feeling lucky?”
“Always.” Kenn flashes her a feral grin in response. “Always.”