FIC: Ain't No Sunshine (Part 3/?)
What: BtVS fanfic
Posted in: Summer of Giles 2012
Pairing: Faith & Giles
Rating: G, FRC
Setting: Post "Chosen," no comics. Any similarity to the comics is coincidence as I haven't read them, though I have read some synopses of them online.
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the BtVS universe and no one pays me for my fan fiction either (sadly).
Summary: Sometime after Sunnydale imploded, Faith has left Cleveland and Robin and come to England to find Giles. Giles has been working to rebuild the Council, and Faith is hoping she can be of some help to him.
Note: Recommend you read Part 1 and 2 first.
Giles slowly became aware of a strange sound. Sort of... a faint hissing. Gas leak? He sniffed. Don’t smell gas. Smells like... bacon? Someone frying bacon? Must be dreaming he thought, then consciousness slipped away again as sleep once more overtook him.
The next time he came to, he was sure he could smell toast. This time he ventured an eye open. Just one eye. God that light’s bright. He shut his eye. Then he squinted it open again. When his eye finally adjusted to the light and focused as well as it could without his glasses -- which was basically a fuzzy blur -- he thought he could see someone in his kitchen. Looked like a dark-haired woman. He frantically wracked his funky fried brain to figure out who that might be. And... nothing. Hard to bring two coherent thoughts together with the pounding in his skull anyway.
Then she was standing over him, startling him enough to make him jump slightly, which caused him to wince as the effects of his bender became painfully apparent to him. He groaned.
“G, chill man. Here.” The woman held out a glass of water and two pills. He squinted both eyes open now and peered at her face. Faith? He tried to say it out loud, but his thoat was dry as dust and no sound came out. Maybe water would be a good idea. He pushed himself up a bit so he could drink, wincing again at the effort, then steadying himself through a wave of nausea. When it passed, he took the water and sipped, testing his stomach. Then he took a proper drink, and cleared his throat.
“Faith?”
She smiled at him. “Take these, and chill. Explanations later.” He was using one arm to prop himself up and the other to hold his water glass, so he let her put the pills in his mouth, then downed the rest of the water to swallow them. Then he closed his eyes again, and laid his head back down slowly and gently. He felt too crappy to argue with her or push for explanations about why she was here, and when she got here.
A sudden panic hit him and made him snap one eye open. “Faith!” he called hoarsely, “Did something happen? Is anything wrong?” He was ready to heave himself from this couch if it was time for action, hangover be damned.
Hmmm, deja-vu much? Faith thought. “Nope!” She called back cheerily from the kitchen. “Your Watcher skills are not needed for anything in particular at this moment.” Guess I was right about him not remembering anything, she thought. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful or disappointed about that.
“Thank Christ,” he muttered and closed his eye again, relaxing his body which had gone rigid in anticipation of her telling him yet another apocalypse was pending. He immediately started to drift back to sleep.
“How do you like your eggs?” called Faith.
He only grunted, wanting just to sleep, perhaps for the rest of eternity. His nausea and headache was not whetting his appetite for breakfast.
“If you don’t answer, I’m scramblin’ ‘em!” she threatened.
He didn’t answer. He was asleep.
When Giles came round again, the pills had kicked in, and the water had helped some, so he felt a tiny bit better. The smell of the breakfast Faith had prepared made his stomach rumble, this time in a good way.
Faith walked into his line of vision, holding out his glasses to him. He took them gratefully, then allowed her to help him to his feet, his joints snap, crackle and popping. When he felt steady enough, he walked stiffly to the bathroom on his own steam. When he re-emerged, he had freshened up slightly, and Faith was amazed at how damn sexy he looked all rumpled and unshaven.
Get a hold of yourself Faith! she thought.
Giles walked slowly to the table and paused. Faith had found a table-cloth (somewhere?), and set two places with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice, and a steaming pot of coffee. It was incredibly simple, but it brought tears to Giles’ eyes just having someone demonstrate such care. For him. He looked up at her forcing the tears back inside. She was standing behind her chair, wearing his apron, watching him with a slight frown, probably worried he was going to hurl all over the table.
He waited another second so he could be sure his voice wouldn’t crack, then he said, still full of emotion, “Faith. Thank-you.”
“Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” she said softly, winking at him, and feigning her usual sass. “And if it’s burnt, or tastes like crap, too damn bad.”
He cleared his throat, smiling at her gentle teasing. “Smells great!” he added lightly.
Her face lit up with a warm smile, almost taking Giles’ breath away. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Faith so relaxed, her usual defenses down, allowing her genuine beauty to shine through. Her hair was pulled back loosely, she was dressed simply in a t-shirt and jeans, barefoot. He was so stunned by her, he nearly told her she was a vision, but caught himself before he made a complete ass of himself. He blushed at his own stupidity, covering it up by sitting down and busily tucking in.
They ate in comfortable silence. When they finished, Giles nearly felt like himself again.
“My God Faith, you are my angel,” he said sincerely. “Left to my own devices, it would have been hair of the dog, I’m sure.”
Faith looked at him, confused. “You don’t have a dog... do you? ‘Cuz, there was no dog here when I brought you home last night, I swear!” Faith said apprehensively.
He gaped at her. Then he saw the corner of her mouth quirk and knew she was teasing him. He burst out laughing. The complete absurdity of this moment suddenly struck him. He thought of the Faith he knew (or thought he knew), and then looked at this domesticated version in front of him. It was not a Faith he ever would have predicted seeing. The world felt completely topsy-turvey and he nearly reeled in his laughter. He felt as though he were living in a Monty Python sketch or something. He’d been so lonely, and suddenly a woman appears and treats him sweeter than anyone had for ages, and the woman is Faith! Hard, rebellious, loner Faith. Cooked for him! Shaking with laughter, eyes streaming tears, he wondered if perhaps he’d drunk himself looney, and this was all some bizarre hallucination.
Giles’ glee was infectious, and Faith couldn’t stop herself from laughing along with him. “For a second, you did think I was that stupid didn’t you?” Faith asked, still laughing. When Giles was able to catch his breath again, he said, still grinning but with a slight crinkling of his forehead, “I never thought you were stupid Faith.”
Looking in his eyes, she could see he was in a state of complete openness, no pretense, no angle... he wasn’t playing her. He meant it. He was regarding her with such open friendly affection, some of her old defensiveness sprang up of its own accord. She stood quickly, and began clearing the table, the moment lost.
They cleared up and did the dishes as the aftereffects of his inebriation continued to wear off. When full sobriety reared its inhibited head, Giles started to feel more and more embarassed about the previous night. Though he couldn’t remember anything at all, he now knew Faith had brought him home. The voice of resposibility in his head started berating him about what kind of example he was setting for a Slayer only recently back from the edge of darkness herself. What kind of Watcher was he? What kind of man was he? He decided to shower to wash away the smell, though he couldn’t erase his shame.
When he emerged this time, Giles was clean-shaven, in fresh clothes, and looked more like the Watcher Faith remembered. Sadly, some of the ease with which they’d interacted over breakfast seemed to have rinsed down the drain with the bathwater.
Giles was a at a loss for words for a minute, wanting to ask Faith a myriad of questions, but not knowing how to start. He wasn’t sure where exactly he stood with her. He couldn’t reassert his authority as a Watcher -- not after his behaviour the night before. Were they friends? Could he be a mentor to her? He took a breath. Stop over-thinking everything Rupert, he said to himself, running his hand through his hair -- everything doesn’t have to be determined this second. Faith has been a colleague, and she’s come here to visit. So, he decided to start simply by welcoming a guest into his home.
“Do you have a bag Faith? Let me show you to the guest room.”
“Huh?” she replied. “Oh. Uh, no. I... just left.” She hugged her arms around herself self-consciously, suddenly feeling stupid. Like some kind of freak. Who doesn’t travel with a bag?
But Giles looked impressed rather than put-off. “You travel like a true warrior, light and efficient,” he said softly with a smile.
He placed a hand ever so lightly on her shoulder and directed her down the hallway, past the bathroom and his bedroom to the spare room. It looked as though it had never been used.
“New sheets,” he said. “No one’s ever stayed here.”
His tone stopped her from making any protest about staying or expressing any fears about imposing on him. He clearly wanted to be imposed upon, and she wouldn’t make him beg her to stay. She sat on the bed and smiled awkwardly at him.
“So, I guess we should go shopping then,” he said.
She cocked her head at him. “Wha?”
“If you’re staying here, you’ll need... things. And clothes.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess.” Faith really hadn’t thought about anything practical like that. And she didn’t really have any money to buy stuff since she’d blown most of her money on the plane ticket to get here. Her sudden perplexed and anxious look drew Giles over to her. He sat down beside her wanting to comfort her, but not sure how.
“Faith. I... uh, w-what I mean, is... l-look...” he sighed in frustration, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. He stood, cleaned his glasses, then took a deep breath. Standing in front of Faith, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Faith, my family is quite wealthy. I’d be more than pleased to take you shopping today, my treat.” She hadn’t met his eyes, so he tilted her chin so she was looking at him. He smiled. “Think of it as sticking it to the Council who treated you so badly. I come from a long line of Watchers, so our wealth is tied to that legacy.” He shrugged. “Or think of it as long overdue payment for your service as a Slayer.” He let go of her face, but held her eyes with his.
She seemed to relax a bit at these words. It was like he'd read her thoughts. She'd suddenly felt afraid when he'd mentioned shopping, having no idea how she'd pay for anything without any money, but not wanting to cause any trouble for Giles by shoplifting. “I always thought it should have been a paying gig,” she said to lighten the moment. Then she turned serious again, and looked down at her lap. “Wilkins paid me you know. Workin’ for him, I could live decent, and not have to steal.” There remained a note of resentment in her voice.
Giles said nothing. He couldn’t help but feel that much of Faith’s resentment of the Council was justified.
Faith looked at him nervously, afraid of rebuke, but Giles had reflected upon Faith’s relationship with the Mayor since the battle that destroyed Sunnydale High (and Giles’ career as a High School Librarian with it). He thought he could understand that she had gotten something from that relationship that no one else was able to give her at the time. Giles regretted somewhat that he couldn’t have supported Faith better. But, he couldn’t change the past. All he could do is give what he could to her now.
He waited, not wanting to pressure Faith in any way. After weighing the pros and cons, and searching Giles’ eyes for a hidden agenda, and finding none, finally she agreed, and they went shopping.
Part 4
Posted in: Summer of Giles 2012
Pairing: Faith & Giles
Rating: G, FRC
Setting: Post "Chosen," no comics. Any similarity to the comics is coincidence as I haven't read them, though I have read some synopses of them online.
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the BtVS universe and no one pays me for my fan fiction either (sadly).
Summary: Sometime after Sunnydale imploded, Faith has left Cleveland and Robin and come to England to find Giles. Giles has been working to rebuild the Council, and Faith is hoping she can be of some help to him.
Note: Recommend you read Part 1 and 2 first.
Giles slowly became aware of a strange sound. Sort of... a faint hissing. Gas leak? He sniffed. Don’t smell gas. Smells like... bacon? Someone frying bacon? Must be dreaming he thought, then consciousness slipped away again as sleep once more overtook him.
The next time he came to, he was sure he could smell toast. This time he ventured an eye open. Just one eye. God that light’s bright. He shut his eye. Then he squinted it open again. When his eye finally adjusted to the light and focused as well as it could without his glasses -- which was basically a fuzzy blur -- he thought he could see someone in his kitchen. Looked like a dark-haired woman. He frantically wracked his funky fried brain to figure out who that might be. And... nothing. Hard to bring two coherent thoughts together with the pounding in his skull anyway.
Then she was standing over him, startling him enough to make him jump slightly, which caused him to wince as the effects of his bender became painfully apparent to him. He groaned.
“G, chill man. Here.” The woman held out a glass of water and two pills. He squinted both eyes open now and peered at her face. Faith? He tried to say it out loud, but his thoat was dry as dust and no sound came out. Maybe water would be a good idea. He pushed himself up a bit so he could drink, wincing again at the effort, then steadying himself through a wave of nausea. When it passed, he took the water and sipped, testing his stomach. Then he took a proper drink, and cleared his throat.
“Faith?”
She smiled at him. “Take these, and chill. Explanations later.” He was using one arm to prop himself up and the other to hold his water glass, so he let her put the pills in his mouth, then downed the rest of the water to swallow them. Then he closed his eyes again, and laid his head back down slowly and gently. He felt too crappy to argue with her or push for explanations about why she was here, and when she got here.
A sudden panic hit him and made him snap one eye open. “Faith!” he called hoarsely, “Did something happen? Is anything wrong?” He was ready to heave himself from this couch if it was time for action, hangover be damned.
Hmmm, deja-vu much? Faith thought. “Nope!” She called back cheerily from the kitchen. “Your Watcher skills are not needed for anything in particular at this moment.” Guess I was right about him not remembering anything, she thought. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful or disappointed about that.
“Thank Christ,” he muttered and closed his eye again, relaxing his body which had gone rigid in anticipation of her telling him yet another apocalypse was pending. He immediately started to drift back to sleep.
“How do you like your eggs?” called Faith.
He only grunted, wanting just to sleep, perhaps for the rest of eternity. His nausea and headache was not whetting his appetite for breakfast.
“If you don’t answer, I’m scramblin’ ‘em!” she threatened.
He didn’t answer. He was asleep.
When Giles came round again, the pills had kicked in, and the water had helped some, so he felt a tiny bit better. The smell of the breakfast Faith had prepared made his stomach rumble, this time in a good way.
Faith walked into his line of vision, holding out his glasses to him. He took them gratefully, then allowed her to help him to his feet, his joints snap, crackle and popping. When he felt steady enough, he walked stiffly to the bathroom on his own steam. When he re-emerged, he had freshened up slightly, and Faith was amazed at how damn sexy he looked all rumpled and unshaven.
Get a hold of yourself Faith! she thought.
Giles walked slowly to the table and paused. Faith had found a table-cloth (somewhere?), and set two places with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice, and a steaming pot of coffee. It was incredibly simple, but it brought tears to Giles’ eyes just having someone demonstrate such care. For him. He looked up at her forcing the tears back inside. She was standing behind her chair, wearing his apron, watching him with a slight frown, probably worried he was going to hurl all over the table.
He waited another second so he could be sure his voice wouldn’t crack, then he said, still full of emotion, “Faith. Thank-you.”
“Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” she said softly, winking at him, and feigning her usual sass. “And if it’s burnt, or tastes like crap, too damn bad.”
He cleared his throat, smiling at her gentle teasing. “Smells great!” he added lightly.
Her face lit up with a warm smile, almost taking Giles’ breath away. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Faith so relaxed, her usual defenses down, allowing her genuine beauty to shine through. Her hair was pulled back loosely, she was dressed simply in a t-shirt and jeans, barefoot. He was so stunned by her, he nearly told her she was a vision, but caught himself before he made a complete ass of himself. He blushed at his own stupidity, covering it up by sitting down and busily tucking in.
They ate in comfortable silence. When they finished, Giles nearly felt like himself again.
“My God Faith, you are my angel,” he said sincerely. “Left to my own devices, it would have been hair of the dog, I’m sure.”
Faith looked at him, confused. “You don’t have a dog... do you? ‘Cuz, there was no dog here when I brought you home last night, I swear!” Faith said apprehensively.
He gaped at her. Then he saw the corner of her mouth quirk and knew she was teasing him. He burst out laughing. The complete absurdity of this moment suddenly struck him. He thought of the Faith he knew (or thought he knew), and then looked at this domesticated version in front of him. It was not a Faith he ever would have predicted seeing. The world felt completely topsy-turvey and he nearly reeled in his laughter. He felt as though he were living in a Monty Python sketch or something. He’d been so lonely, and suddenly a woman appears and treats him sweeter than anyone had for ages, and the woman is Faith! Hard, rebellious, loner Faith. Cooked for him! Shaking with laughter, eyes streaming tears, he wondered if perhaps he’d drunk himself looney, and this was all some bizarre hallucination.
Giles’ glee was infectious, and Faith couldn’t stop herself from laughing along with him. “For a second, you did think I was that stupid didn’t you?” Faith asked, still laughing. When Giles was able to catch his breath again, he said, still grinning but with a slight crinkling of his forehead, “I never thought you were stupid Faith.”
Looking in his eyes, she could see he was in a state of complete openness, no pretense, no angle... he wasn’t playing her. He meant it. He was regarding her with such open friendly affection, some of her old defensiveness sprang up of its own accord. She stood quickly, and began clearing the table, the moment lost.
They cleared up and did the dishes as the aftereffects of his inebriation continued to wear off. When full sobriety reared its inhibited head, Giles started to feel more and more embarassed about the previous night. Though he couldn’t remember anything at all, he now knew Faith had brought him home. The voice of resposibility in his head started berating him about what kind of example he was setting for a Slayer only recently back from the edge of darkness herself. What kind of Watcher was he? What kind of man was he? He decided to shower to wash away the smell, though he couldn’t erase his shame.
When he emerged this time, Giles was clean-shaven, in fresh clothes, and looked more like the Watcher Faith remembered. Sadly, some of the ease with which they’d interacted over breakfast seemed to have rinsed down the drain with the bathwater.
Giles was a at a loss for words for a minute, wanting to ask Faith a myriad of questions, but not knowing how to start. He wasn’t sure where exactly he stood with her. He couldn’t reassert his authority as a Watcher -- not after his behaviour the night before. Were they friends? Could he be a mentor to her? He took a breath. Stop over-thinking everything Rupert, he said to himself, running his hand through his hair -- everything doesn’t have to be determined this second. Faith has been a colleague, and she’s come here to visit. So, he decided to start simply by welcoming a guest into his home.
“Do you have a bag Faith? Let me show you to the guest room.”
“Huh?” she replied. “Oh. Uh, no. I... just left.” She hugged her arms around herself self-consciously, suddenly feeling stupid. Like some kind of freak. Who doesn’t travel with a bag?
But Giles looked impressed rather than put-off. “You travel like a true warrior, light and efficient,” he said softly with a smile.
He placed a hand ever so lightly on her shoulder and directed her down the hallway, past the bathroom and his bedroom to the spare room. It looked as though it had never been used.
“New sheets,” he said. “No one’s ever stayed here.”
His tone stopped her from making any protest about staying or expressing any fears about imposing on him. He clearly wanted to be imposed upon, and she wouldn’t make him beg her to stay. She sat on the bed and smiled awkwardly at him.
“So, I guess we should go shopping then,” he said.
She cocked her head at him. “Wha?”
“If you’re staying here, you’ll need... things. And clothes.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess.” Faith really hadn’t thought about anything practical like that. And she didn’t really have any money to buy stuff since she’d blown most of her money on the plane ticket to get here. Her sudden perplexed and anxious look drew Giles over to her. He sat down beside her wanting to comfort her, but not sure how.
“Faith. I... uh, w-what I mean, is... l-look...” he sighed in frustration, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. He stood, cleaned his glasses, then took a deep breath. Standing in front of Faith, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Faith, my family is quite wealthy. I’d be more than pleased to take you shopping today, my treat.” She hadn’t met his eyes, so he tilted her chin so she was looking at him. He smiled. “Think of it as sticking it to the Council who treated you so badly. I come from a long line of Watchers, so our wealth is tied to that legacy.” He shrugged. “Or think of it as long overdue payment for your service as a Slayer.” He let go of her face, but held her eyes with his.
She seemed to relax a bit at these words. It was like he'd read her thoughts. She'd suddenly felt afraid when he'd mentioned shopping, having no idea how she'd pay for anything without any money, but not wanting to cause any trouble for Giles by shoplifting. “I always thought it should have been a paying gig,” she said to lighten the moment. Then she turned serious again, and looked down at her lap. “Wilkins paid me you know. Workin’ for him, I could live decent, and not have to steal.” There remained a note of resentment in her voice.
Giles said nothing. He couldn’t help but feel that much of Faith’s resentment of the Council was justified.
Faith looked at him nervously, afraid of rebuke, but Giles had reflected upon Faith’s relationship with the Mayor since the battle that destroyed Sunnydale High (and Giles’ career as a High School Librarian with it). He thought he could understand that she had gotten something from that relationship that no one else was able to give her at the time. Giles regretted somewhat that he couldn’t have supported Faith better. But, he couldn’t change the past. All he could do is give what he could to her now.
He waited, not wanting to pressure Faith in any way. After weighing the pros and cons, and searching Giles’ eyes for a hidden agenda, and finding none, finally she agreed, and they went shopping.
Part 4