Disclaimer: I do not own Wonderfalls and I do not own BTVS or ATS. I do not own the characters. I barely own the story idea, it was given to me at a drabble call by the amazing beer_good_foamy. Without him this would've never happened.
Her brother, atheist theologian, had somehow convinced her to keep the stupid little frog charm in her car. Some stupid Japanese thing that was supposed to ensure a safe trip. Jaye hated it. And now she hated it more than ever.
“Don’t drink and drive.” For the 10th time.
“It’s just a soda!” Jaye growled. “Nothing illegal here.” Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel.
“Don’t drink and drive,” the frog croaked as the car sped down the highway, passing a group of orange jumpsuit-clad convicts on community garbage service.
Jaye grumbled to herself as she rolled down the window. “Okay. I give, you win!” She dangled the can in front of the frog so it could see before hurling it out the window. “There? Are you happy now?”
“No littering.” The frog replied.
With a sound somewhere between a growl of hatred and a sob of true suffering, she spun the wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes, leaving a trail of skidmarks in her wake before the car came to a stop on the shoulder. She threw the car into park and threw the window open before storming out into the middle of the freeway to retrieve the discarded coke can.
The next bit’s a blur. She remembered leaning over to pick up the can, the blasting horn of a sixteen wheeler as it barreled towards her, a blur of orange, and a sharp pain as two bodies tumbled to the ground and rolled off to the side of the road. A voice broke through the fog. “Are you insane or somethin’?”
Jaye looked up at the brown-haired convict. “Actually, probably yes.”
Not expecting the answer, the Boston accented woman sat back. “What were you doin’?”
“The frog in my car told me not to litter.”
The woman stood up, “Right. Crazy. Check. You might wanna get that looked at.” She turned and started back to the rest of the road crew.
Jaye sat up, brushing gravel off her cheek. “Hey… uh… thanks for saving me.”
Faith didn’t look back. She just shrugged, not wanting to admit how good it felt to be thanked.