NOTE: This chapter is rated FR18

Quick Stop

Disclaimer: Joss, ME and some other corporate entities own Faith, Andrew, Dawn, and Rona. Kevin Smith (and probably some other people) own Jay, Silent Bob, CLIT, and the Quick-Stop.

Author’s Notes: Not my best work, but I wanted to pick up writing again and I saw this pairing on the FFA list and couldn’t resist. I mean the tie in is so obvious. Spoilers for Clerks II and one line shamelessly bastardized from the same.


“Faith, can we stop please? I really gotta go,” Andrew whined from the cargo hatch of the black Ford Explorer the slayer was currently driving.

“You just went like 45 minutes ago Andrew,” Dawn replied from the front passenger seat as she tried to keep Faith from reaching the throwing knives she kept in the dashboard.

“That was to get rid of the water from the last gas stop. But I had a Big Gulp at the 7-11 we stopped at for directions and now I have to go again.”

Dawn and Rona exchanged nervous glances in the rear view mirror. Andrew was annoying then, and no one would ever mistake Faith for “restraint girl,” except for in a dominatrix-y kind of way and ew…

After a few more moments of tense silence, Faith ground out, “There’s a town called Red Bank not too far from here. We’ll stop and get gas and you can pee, but if I even see you so much as glance toward a water fountain you’re riding on the roof until we stop for the night.”

Dawn and Rona both released sighs of relief. Blood is so difficult to get out of leather interiors. Fifteen minutes later, the vehicle pulled up in front of the Quick-Stop. Rona went in to pay for the gas, Dawn started pumping the fuel and Faith let Andrew out of the cargo hold before stretching.

Jay and Silent Bob, financial backers and sanctioned loiterers of the newly reopened establishment were in their usual places despite the December weather: Jay dancing around the boom box and Bob leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. Noticing the new arrivals, Bob smacked Jay in the back of the head to get his attention.

“What the fuck fatty?” Jay exclaimed before following Bob’s pointing finger. “What? So the bitch is hot? There’s plenty of hot bitches that come through here, that doesn’t mean you,” he trailed off. “Wait a second. It’s that bitch from CLIT that my old lady snitched on. What’s she doing outta the big house?”

Bob shrugged.

“Nothing profound to say fat ass?” Jay asked.

At that moment, Faith decided to walk over, “You holding?” she asked.

“Everything but coke, heroin, and each other’s cocks. But what the fuck are you doing out of jail?”

“What the fuck are you doing out of rehab?” she replied. “I don’t even know you.”

“The hell you don’t. You tried to frame me and my hetero-lifemate here for a monkey theft and got my old lady sent up river with you.”

Faith raised an eyebrow, “Only girl I steered toward a life of crime was B and you don’t look like her type.”

Jay rolled his eyes and looked toward Bob with a “can you believe this bitch” look. Bob just shrugged and lit another cigarette. “You got amnesia or something Sissy? You, Missy, Chrissy and Justice with the leather cat suits and armed robbery?”

Faith just shook her head, “I think you need to lay off the merchandise sampling screw boy. The name is Faith, not Sissy. And if you’re holding I need something to either mellow me out or knock someone else out because I got an annoying passenger, a long ass drive ahead of me and the Garden State Parkway doesn’t have a lot of places to hide a body.”