cuddlecity | If you want blood

CHARACTERS: Faith Lehane and You!
LOCATIONS: The Deviant
WARNINGS: Currently none, will update if that changes
SUMMARY: Faith and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Faith Lehane was having a day. It wasn't anything huge that marked the day in question as particularly awful. Instead, it was the myriad little things that kept piling up one on top of the other to create an avalanche of bullshit that was threatining to roll downhill at any minute. From the waitress that kept spilling drinks on paying customers, to the drunken idiot that had grabbed her ass before she'd tossed him on his... she was itching to punch something in the worst way.

Before the urge could overwhelm her she'd retreated to the manager's office and sat at her desk for a drink and a time out. The whiskey was strong but not strong enough as the burn of it barely took the edge off. She thought back to her time in prison, the things she'd done to get out of her own head and push the darker urges back into their boxes, and tried utilizing the methods that had worked then. Whatever calm she'd been working toward, small as it had been, was shattered when she heard a tray of glasses smash just beyond her door less than five minutes in to her cool down.

With a bitten off curse she stood to leave her temporary sanctuary so she could assess the damage. Her least favorite waitress was in the middle of the wreckage and Faith's eyes narrowed. Her fingers twitched into a fist, flexed once as she tamped down on the urge to let fly, and released.

Not trusting in her ability to resist a second time meant walking away with little more than a ground out order to clean up the mess. It was on her way up to the front that she decided it was in the best interest of everyone that she find a way to resolve the building tension sooner rather than later. Whether it was going to be a fight or something else was where she was still open to suggestion.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Things were escalating, tonight. Usually The Deviant was pumping with people dancing, happy, making connections and bonding with each other and becoming more to each other over a song and a drink. But tonight it felt more like there was something else underneath it all, like blood in the wine. Baby wasn't due for a set for another hour, had arrived early, and he was by the bar when he heard the smashed glasses, saw Faith, the tension in her body, the anger in her fists. He didn't even think before walking over, as determined as he could be. When he got to her, he put a hand on her shoulder, hoping she would react by throwing him bodily across the room.

"Hey. Wanna go for some fresh air?"

The hand on her shoulder had her base instincts screaming to break bone. To take hold and twist as penance for the audacity of assuming... at least until she realized who it was that had done the touching. Baby definitely needed both hands and wrists functional unless she wanted to add another managerial nightmare to her plate.

Which she decidedly did not.

"Want to punch someone in the face but fresh air is gonna have to do."

He gave Faith a gentle smile, guiding her towards the exit because she could do any damage - to the building, rather than herself. The two of them had a good enough relationship that Baby wasn't worried for any of his limbs, or his face, as he helped her outside, the air damp with rain that was about to fall.

"What's going on?"

The moment they stepped out, the quiet of the street made the buzzing in his ears flare up, and he focused on the thrum of the bass coming through the soles of his feet from the club behind them, trying to keep himself from getting dizzy. There were bigger issues at hand.

"I don't even know. If it hasn't been one thing, it's been another." Faith leaned back against the wall and ran a hand through her hair. She didn't care that she sounded like a petulant kid. She'd get her shit together tomorrow. For the moment she just needed to indulge in the irrational anger that came with a shitty day.

"You ever get that urge to run like an itch under your skin?" She looks at Baby when she asks, and for that split second she feels more tired than angry. "Except where do you run when this is the closest thing to paradise there is?"

There's a heavy sigh and self deprecating smirk. "Damn I wish I still smoked."

Baby let out a breath, tilting his head up to the night sky for a moment. Does he ever get the urge to run? All the time; it's what landed him here in the first place. Maybe he ought to admit that to someone else than just Izzy.

"I've always got that itch. Back home, I - I was stuck in kind of a shitty situation, and I ended up pulling the trigger." Literally and figuratively. "I ran. And it's how I ended up in Cadelle."

Another sigh, more like a deep exhale, long and steady, before he joined her, leaning against the wall. "It makes me think running is only ever a temporary solution. Whatever's chasing you will always find you. But in the meantime, you can go on joyrides," he finished with a slight smile, looking down at Faith.

"Looks like we got more in common than music." Faith has enough of a soft spot for the kid, even though he isn't that much younger than she is, that she actually dislikes the fact that she can say that.

"True story. Running never gets you all that far. Learned that lesson a thousand times over," Faith let out a small snort of a laugh. "Still learning it."

With a deep breath she pushed away from the wall to gently nudge Baby in the side. "You always been this smart or is the shitty situation to thank?"

Letting out a deep chuckle, Baby tilted his head towards the sky, looking at the night spread out ahead of them, reminding him how insignificant they are.

"Not that smart. maybe - maybe street smart, I guess. Grew up in the streets, mainly. Grew up trying to run from everything, all the time, and it got me nowhere fast."

Pushing his hands in his pockets, he turned back to Faith. There was something about her - something broken. His voice was soft when he asked:

"What were you running from?"

He'll never know how much she can relate to that, mostly because she's not sure she'll ever tell him. Depends on which way the wind blows. Depends on how masochistic she's feeling that day.

"That's a loaded question." It's not an answer and she knows it. She also knows she owes him something.

"A lot of things. Life. Didn't like my surroundings. Didn't like my ghosts. Hell, didn't much like myself." She smiles, and it's far more fliratious than it should be. Bad idea. Bad habits die hard.

The smile turns into something a little softer, a little less predatory.

"I should really start paying you more."

"Yeah, it is," he answered softly, knowing how much he would struggle, if the question was directed at him. Sometimes, it felt like he'd been running from a lot more than just Doc and his business. Running from everything, all the time, because it was easier than facing his feelings.

"For what it's worth, I think you're pretty cool," he added with a smile and a wink, more of a tease than anything else. If it's a little flirty on his end, well. Nobody has to know, and it doesn't have to mean anything. "I learned how to drive when I was 10 years old. I'm not very good at staying in one place myself."

Not that he really ever left, either - just moved through Atlanta like a shadow, the streets his domain.

He chuckled, tilting his head back again for a moment. "You pay me plenty."

If you want blood | OTA

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