Who: Faith Lehane [Narrative/Closed] When: Yesterday Where: Manhattan Why: Because sometimes business needs to be taken care of. Warnings: Violence
Faith was grumbling as she kicked rocks down the empty New York City sidestreet. She knew that she screwed up with Emily and she knew she even deserved the blame from Solvei and Dean. It didn't take the sting away though and assholes like Sam Winchester were just begging to scratch below the surface, to bury their words underneath her skin and leave them there where she couldn't scrub them clean.
It was tempting to let Dean use Bruce for target practice. Tempting to sit around and wait for him to show up and take his best shot at her too. But Faith was never very good at sitting around and waiting on anything. She had this silly little idea about getting payback from the party who was actually to blame. The thing was, she wasn't exactly sure how to hurt him. She'd already beaten his face into a bloody pulp once and the only thing that got her was a message that included Emily's broken wrist.
Faith's favorite nickname for the Winchesters in London was sissy but at least they aimed for the right target most of the time. She didn't know how to hurt someone who would just aim at her friends instead. He was only human, she wasn't sure if she could justify killing him, which was exactly why she hadn't told Solvei or Dean who he was. Because she wasn't sure they would stop and make that same consideration.
"Where is he?" She demanded of security guard #1. He looked up from his booth in surprise and was about to open his mouth to shout when she grabbed him by the front of his stupid uniform and slammed his head into the booth. "Never mind. I'll just find him myself." She muttered.
It wasn't hard. He was sitting behind his desk exactly where she had found him before.
"You know what they say about all work and no play." She suggested playfully as she swaggered into his office for the second time in two weeks.
He stilled behind his desk and Faith smirked a little bit. No amount of money, no fancy suit was going to cover up that broken nose she gave him last week. This time she was planning on aiming a little bit higher. Her arm casually circled his wife's neck, pulling her closer so she could smell the conditioner she'd used in her hair that morning. She was a tiny little blond thing and Faith found that amusing considering he always went for the curvy brunettes.
His eyes flickered back and forth between Faith's face, and the big knife she was holding to his wife's cheek.
"Oh, reason went out the window the minute you touched what was mine. Now normally? I'd just beat the shit out of you and call it a day, but," She shook her head and tapped the blunt end of the knife against the blonde's face. "I tried that already and it didn't stick. I gotta get creative here. She's cute by the way. Nice choice."
The girl trembled in her grip and Faith held her tighter. Normally, she would probably try and muster up a little sympathy for her hostage since the only thing she did was marry the wrong asshole but this time she didn't even give herself the luxury of giving a shit. She just wanted this problem taken care of.
"What do you want? Money?" Mr. Badass Behind a Desk was looking pretty scared and it made the corner of Faith's mouth tilt up in a smirk. He was so lucky she hadn't met him a few years ago or else she'd be taking all of the shit Sam said to her out on this jackass right about now.
"I don't want your fucking money. I don't want anything to do with you, I don't want you anywhere near me or mine. You got me or do I need to cut an eye out to get the message across?" She asked, tightening her hold on the Missus and scraping the sharp end of the blade just underneath her eye. She screamed, freezing stalk still against Faith.
"You'll never hear from me again." He promised quickly, standing up from his desk.
"Where's your goons?" She asked him but only received a confused look from him. "Your thugs. Your homeboys? The guys who messed up my girl's face. I owe them too."
"Which ones?" He asked casually, his eyes still glued on Blondie's face.
Pulling the knife away from her face, Faith pushed his wife away from her and into his desk.
"Might wanna tell 'em I'm lookin' so they might wanna get out of town." Sauntering over to his desk she just cast one look at Blondie who shrieked and ran right out of the room. Too easy. With one swift easy movement she brought the knife down hard, burying it in the desk between his index and middle fingers.
"Who are you?" He asked her and she tilted her head at him.
"I'm nobody. Nobody you know." She told him before she turned and walked away. She didn't look back as she walked through the hallways in his palace and downstairs to the Manhattan street below.
When she was finally downstairs she picked up her phone and dialed Dean's number. She wasn't surprised when he didn't pick up and she got his voicemail instead.
"I took care of it."
That was the only thing she said as she heard the explosion behind her and the building she had just walked out of burst into flames. So she didn't really kill him technically. But the fire just might.