"Yeah, fuck you too, Wes." She waits until he's out the door to spit that out, at least, her voice sharp and angry. It doesn't matter what happens, this is where they always end up. She's a rabid dog and he's the one who slipped her loose the choke chain. "Always a freaking pleasure."

Slumping back into the couch and closing her eyes, Faith swallows a few times, convulsively. "Okay, whatever." Her feet sting when she stands up, but it's good, distracting. "I need more booze."