Hi,
been a while, but today; yesterday afternoon by the time I get this finished and posted and dedicated, I wrote a new story. Strictly speaking not the first this last week, but those will not be posted for a while.
(In recent news this fic has been nominated at both the Sunnydale Memorial Awards and the No Rest for the Wicked Awards; suffice to say I am reacting in a rather calmer fashion than when another fic was nominated in the previous round of the SunnyD's)
The Female Husband; Best Pairing Unconventional; Best Quickie Fic; Best Romance
Check out all the nominees:
http://sunnydawards.dragonydreams.com/nominees.html Also got nominated at the
http://wicked-awards.livejournal.com/43097.html.
The wonderful button/banner you see was made for me by
red_satin_doll Title: The Female Husband
Fandom/Pairing: BtVS, Faith/Tara
Word Count: 916
URL:
http://kerkevik-2014.livejournal.com/35761.html Categories: Guise Will Be Guise, I Was Made To Love You
This is the morning of the day led to, specifically by
http://kerkevik-2014.livejournal.com/25762.htmland
http://kerkevik-2014.livejournal.com/26143.htmland referred to directly by these
http://kerkevik-2014.livejournal.com/2723.htmland these
http://kerkevik.livejournal.com/183503.htmlwritten for
deird1 very soon after she'd announced her engagement, also here
http://kerkevik.livejournal.com/182506.html, where it was mentioned, I think for the very first time. There's also this one
http://kerkevik.livejournal.com/186531.html, where I realise now that I first mentioned which of the happy couple, would become a mother-to-be.
Phew! That was a longer list than I remembered.
Anyway, to the tale...
TITLE: The Female Husband
AUTHOR:
kerkevik_2014 CHARACTERS: Faith (Tara & others, by implication & mention)
'SHIPS: Faith/Tara,
LENGTH: I'll count'em later; tired (to be said in a whiny voice)
A/N: Dedicated to
red_satin_doll and
deird1 and
elisi ~ the whys of the dedications? First is because this is directly related to the needs-to-be completed Relish collection of fics; second is because well, the idea of Tara and Faith getting wed came directly from her upcoming married life, and third is because there has been no-one, bar none, who has supported my writing more.
Somewhere magical in the west of Ireland...
It was very late for Faith to be getting out of bed, or early; being just after dawn.
It felt unbearably strange not having her wife-to-be there beside her. But Tara, a card-carrying finger plugger of dutch sea walls; not a "very talented amateur who should turn pro", which she loved to say out loud in the voice of the future mom to the child she was carrying.
She smiled; grinned actually, as she opened her eyes and felt appreciative that she felt no need to visit the bush served as a 'lavvie'; she even thought that word in the accent of that Gardai who'd checked up on her last night after she'd left the door open.
They'd decided on where they were marrying when, admittedly, they'd got blind drunk celebrating the referendum vote, and it hadn't taken the moving of many mountains to get everyone here for it, but it hadn't been far off.
Whatever, she was still smiling at the thought that Tara had wanted as traditional a wedding as she could; apparently she was infected with that stereotype, though whether it counted as a stereotype when Tara was...
She got out of bed and walked to the kitchen table; all of five steps, past the comfortingly familiar, in that it only worked as a source of light. Picking up the cold bottle of home brew that Slayer who was sweet on Andrew; who was sweet right back, actually she wasn't too sure that he knew anything about it, but they were getting married today as well, though they were coming down from a joint party at a gay bar in Derry; no spending time apart for them, though Faith had taken to the idea when it had come to her how she wanted she wanted to spend the nights apart from...
Anyway, two steps back to the kitchen table/TV and a large slice of leftover pizza; mozzarella; garlic; pineapple, mushroom and banana ("don't ask!") with extra garlic, was in her hand and, hungrily eating her own stereotype she went and sat on the porch; it could have been a not too clean cold and paint-flakingly uncomfortable step down from the door to the trailer she'd insisted on using as her 'stag hunting lodge to bring her final flings to.
This was the third, and last, morning she was sitting her, eating cold pizza and drinking cold home brew; unsatisfyingly free of actual alcohol, for breakfast; bed empty, except for herself and her thoughts; reflections; incumremembrances.
It was almost as spartan as that motel room in Sunnydale; spacious and empty compared to the cell she'd spent so many hours in, and positively clean compared to the trailer she'd survived in.
She felt a kick and remembered what had made her grin before.
After all what could be more traditional than a spouse carrying a child, visibly, to the altar?
True it was usually the wife and she was more the... another kick, and she; who'd never imagined a day like this one coming, had wanted to make this day as much Tara's as she could; as magical for the woman who'd saved her from everything this trailer step; freezing her tattooed ass, reminded her of.
The face she would make her vows to; the face that had never left her thoughts these past seventy-two hours, belonged to someone who'd just smile as she'd say, "But we have to do something for you. It's your day too."
That woman was going to have a day as happy as she could make it; especially with the sex after days apart, and in that lay the - no nothing to do with the screwing; the smile that she wanted to see on Tara's face at the wedding; weddings, there were going to be three of them, in that smile lay the real magic for her.
Real magic, as Tara was wont to comment, lay in the intangible; momentary; the heart of the eye and breath of breeze that could carry new life on the wind.
The thought of that woman's smile made Faith's very soul smile.
There was nothing more magical than what Tara had done for her, though her talent for warming Faith's behind would come in handy, she reflected as her ass began to lose feeling to the metal step she was going through her vows on.
A testament to everything that Tara had saved her from. Tara had just been looking for a fuck to escape; she helped her escape the bottle, but what Tara had done for her; tending her like a rare plant; nurturing her; caring for her (turning out not to be alone in that, she'd been shocked to find); teaching her to see and experience the world's real magic.
Just as she was finishing the pizza slice, there was a squawk from inside the trailer; followed by a cry, from her wedding present to her intended of, "Get in here and put some clothes on, you brazen hussy!"
Chuckling at the memory of the Gardai's expression when she'd heard the language the creature used, she finished her breakfast and obeyed, as was only right and proper, her indoors.
Faith glanced up at the rising, and fast warming, sun; mooned it, and went inside, the thought on her mind that this, the longest day of the year, was going to be a warm and sunny one.
She could still not believe how it had come to be.
Had to be magic.
Goddess watch over us all,
kerk tehkek