Kat Lee (katleept) wrote in giles_shorts,
Kat Lee

Late Night Ride (Giles/Faith; R/M; Hitchhiking)

Title: Late Night Ride
Author: Kat Lee
Characters/Pairing: Giles/Faith
Rating: R/M for nudity and implied sexual content
Challenge/Prompt: Hitchhiking
Word Count: 416
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners, not the author.

The night is dark. The only thing on the road he can see is a young woman standing underneath a street light, her lean leg and thumb sticking out in an obvious sign she's looking for a ride. He shouldn't stop. He knows the danger. He knows she could easily be a Vampiress or any other number of evil things, and yet, against his better judgement, he pulls over to the curb any way.

A ball forms in his throat. He's never seen any one so beautiful. That's another sign of danger, but still, he doesn't flee. She's covered in blood, and still, he doesn't turn away but rather reaches to open his door.

He needn't have bothered. She takes the initiative, pulls his door open wide, and puts one bare foot onto his floorboard. He swallows hard. She was dressed in tight, black leather; now she's naked except for the blood dripping down her fresh, nubile body. Something thuds behind her, and he looks back to see a dead alligator whose scaly tail alone seems half as big as his car.

He has no time to think about the beast she's killed, however, for she's already climbing in to join him. She smirks up at him. There's a fire in her dark eyes that he finds utterly beguiling. Time stops. Her hand slides up his leg. The world spins.

The car is gone; so's the gator. They're in his flat back in London, instead, and she's still just as naked and bloody as when he picked her up. Her hands run over his face. His glasses are gone; he no longer needs them. He can see her clearly, every inch of her, as big and bold as the night and magic that wraps around them.

She's smirking at him again. She touches him like no one else ever has. "I knew you'd get a hard for me, G," she whispers against his mouth. And then her tongue's plunging down his throat, and she's making him his.

Rupert Giles moans. Sweat pours down his body. He turns over, gropes an empty bed, and somewhere in his mind, he thinks he really shouldn't stop watching ignorant, late night American TV. That had to be from whence he garnered the image of the gator, but these moments with Faith come from something else, something deep and dark within him, something he's utterly forbidden himself for years. He knows they're wrong, but in his dreams, the Watcher doesn't care.

The End
Tags: giles/faith, rating: r/frm

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