The clang of metal on metal was the only sound in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel. If you'd come around the corner at the right moment, you would have seen a young woman in leather and an older man with heavy stubble fighting ruthlessly with a pair of foils. The man had the upper hand; the woman was beginning to struggle.
"Damn it, Wes," Faith shouted as she tripped on the edge of a rug and strumbled backwards. "Fuck you, okay? FUCK YOU!"
"Later, darling," Wesley replied. "When I'm done with you here." He lunged in her direction, she tumbled further off-balance and landed, unceremoniously, in a heap at the foot of the stairs. Wes snaked the tip of his sword to her throat.
"Damn, Wesley, you know I do. And now, if you haven't gotten your rocks off enough by finally beating me, can we go upstairs and fuck?"
Wes grinned. He wrapped his arm around the Slayer's waist as they walked up the stairs and murmured into her hair. "Thank you for finally letting me win."