avarielwings | (no subject)

Title: Sharpe's Slayer
Rating: PG

Angel was finally back to see her. It had been quite a while since his last visit, and Faith had been getting worried. Not that she'd ever admit that to him, of course.

She was surprised, and a little disappointed, to see that he wasn't alone. He'd brought someone new with him, a youngish-looking guy with light brown hair and a nice smile. Faith sized up the stranger suspiciously, then her eyes narrowed. There was something off about him. But what was it?

"Angel. Who's your friend? And is he human?"

"This is Richard Sharpe. I've known him for a very long time."

"Long like vampire long?"

"He's human, Faith. But he is effectively immortal. He was badly wounded once, when he was a soldier, and the healing magicks cast on him went a little wrong. Now, he'll recover from anything short of decapitation or the complete destruction of his body. And he doesn't age."

"So, when were you a soldier, Sharpe?"

The newcomer spoke for the first time, perfectly pleasantly, but with amusement in his eyes. "During the Napoleonic Wars. I was born in 1777."

Faith took that in. "Wow. You look good for your age."

Their gazes locked and held, each challenging the other to look away first. Angel, sensing the tension, hurried to defuse it.

"If I can't be there for you, for any reason, when you get out of here, Richard will come to find you in my place. He'll see to your every need."

Faith grinned. "My every need, huh? Sounds like fun." And it really did. Sharpe was a hottie, and was obviously a fighter. They could make a good pair. She gave him her best come-hither look, and was delighted when he responded simply with a raised eyebrow.

Not easily embarrassed, then. Good – Faith liked a challenge. She was determined now – she would have him blushing before they parted company for good. Oh, she was going to have fun with this one.