"Now, now," a voice drawled, coming in from just behind Peter and Faith, "if you think you're gettin' you're filthy little hands all over that there Slayer, you've obviously lost more of them brain cells than I thought."
The tall man stared off at Faith and smirked a little. Well. She didn't look so high and might now, did she? Mighty, anyway. He really didn't think he could argue the high part. Dark eyes shifting forward, he stared off at Glory and his smile broadened.
"The Slayer is mine, bitch. Now take your lil' friends and get up on outta here before someone gets hurt, ya hear?"