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It was, he liked to think, the one thing in his life that the senior partners didn't know about. Not that they didn't know that he visited her-he wasn't stupid. He went on Thursdays, at least once a month, ever month since she had been sentenced.
They didn't know that he liked her.
Hell, it had been a surprise even to him. That bitch had taken his money and his credibility, gone from under his thumb straight to Angel, that avenging motherfucker. He hadn't even liked her when she was out, free and working for him.
He had respected her. He had feared her. He had wanted to get rid of her as quickly as possible.
Now he never wanted to leave her side. Sure, he hated the environment he had to see her in. Surrounded by trashy trailer park families visiting Mommy the murderer and cops, breathing down his neck. Reminded him too much of his own childhood. It got to the point where he bribed them heavily, just so he could see her alone, someplace halfway decent.
It was someone's office. He had been sitting on the desk, waiting for her nervously, when she was shown in by a couple of officers. Still handcuffed, but looking totally cool, like she was on top of everything. And looking around the office with a small grin on her face, like the whole thing was somewhat baffling and entirely funny to her.
She had plopped down in the chair across from the desk, cuffed hands folded on top of her stomach. Legs spread, hips just on the edge of the chair. Consciously sexual, even in coveralls. "So. What's the what, Mr. McDonald?"
"Hello, Faith." Still in control, still ever the lawyer. Three-piece suit, and he could be alone at home or in front of a jury and still have this face on.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "You arrange all this?" He didn't answer, but she grinned at him anyway. "Coolness. I got out of laundry duty for this. But I'm still not going to come work for you." She stood up. "So you can just fuck off." She moved towards the door, ostensensibly to knock on it, but he stopped her.
"Are you sure? It'd get you out of this place." She stopped. Twitched, almost imperceptibly. "You can't enjoy being here."
His voice was soft, and sure, and sexy, and he knew it. But Faith just turned to face him, tossing her long brown hair, curly now without styling products. She laughed. "Have you been paying attention, Mr. Wolfram and Hart? Wow, and I thought you had to be intelligent to be a lawyer. I. Turned. My. Self. In."
He felt his own face twitch. He breathed in and out. Blinked.
And then he laughed.
She laughed with him. And if he looked back, that was the moment when she had really won him over. When he had really started to enjoy her company, when he started wanting to be around her.
When he started wanting to take her out of there so that he could take her home with him.
Before all that, she had still been an assignment to him. He had gone to visit her, to see if he could get her back for the firm, to prove that he hadn't been wrong about her. Yes, she had fucked him over. Yes, she had taken their money. But it wasn't about the money. If he got her back and working for them, he could maybe cut back some of the bad air surrounding him at Wolfram and Hart.
He had heard all the water-cooler talk about him. Lindsey McDonald, Holland's pet, was going soft. Was letting things slip by him, was working for the opposition.
The opposition being Angel. The good guy. They were the bad guys, and they knew it.
It had gotten especially harsh after he broke down and went to Angel. But he hadn't been able to help that. Those kids didn't deserve to die, just because they had a gift. He had seen his little sister Kelly's face in his head when Holland announce that he needed a defense for the murder of a child. Kelly, killed right in front of him in their tiny apartment, accidentally. Oops, Daddy had a bit too much to drink.
Well, now that was over. All of it, even the parts with Angel. The bastard had cut off his hand. Had fucked him in a thousand ways; every single time he made a move, Angel was there.
But not this time. He was pretty sure that Angel knew nothing about his little visits with his pet Slayer. Now reformed.
Yeah, as reformed as a tiger. He had seen other girls after they tried to fuck with Faith. Not much left of them.
Which made him never want to fuck with Faith. As it was, he wanted to take her away from the dirty, crowded place where she had forced herself to live and bring her to his apartment. Take off her dirty coveralls and put her in silk and satin. Or leather, or vinyl, or whatever the hell she wanted to wear. He just wanted her out of there.
More than anything, he wanted to hold her close and take that trapped look out of her eyes. It had just been a tiny glimmer when he had first started visiting her, but now all the time she had to spend in a tiny cell was getting to her. Lindsey could see it in the way she moved, the way she spoke with one eye on the door. The other eye fixed on him, begging.
But she still refused to let him take her out of there. She wouldn't even take him as representation, claiming that if Wolfram and Hart represented her, she really would be a monster.
Well, he couldn't exactly disagree with that.
So he shut his mouth. And he waited. And he talked to her, and he tried to be her connection to the outside world. The only problem with that was, his 'outside world' was evil and demons and murder, all the things she had come in here to escape.
Eventually she told him to stop. Stop coming to see her, stop tempting her with everything that she had given up. Stop staring at her like he was in love.
She was in love, too, she said. There was a girl at home whose name was B., and she was the reason that Faith was still in there.
When she left the small room, she kissed him on the forehead, softer than he ever imagined that her lips could be. He burned.
But when the door shut softly behind her, he didn't look up.
Don't ya love her madly
Wanna be her daddy
Don't ya love her face
Don't ya love her as she's walkin' out the door
