Micro kidfic
I don't seem to have a whole fic about Wesley and Illyria's smurf babies. I do have snippets. It's that kind of day.
They were perfectly normal children.
*
Viola walked at six months, and could give Lorne a decent fight at two.
Sebastian didn’t speak until he was four, but he read. His third sentence included the word ‘gustatory’.
*
It took almost a year to find a priest willing to baptise them. They cooed at the touch of the holy water.
Which was unusual, but not actually demonic.
*
Vee’s eyes flashed blue in the night. “Old ones do not sleep.”
“I’ve told you before, you’re not an old one. Also, your mother does in fact sleep. So in both respects, your argument lacks validity. Plus, you have school tomorrow.”
“I hate school. It’s just for ‘Bastian.”
Sebastian nodded, silently. He adored school. Except for the other students. Vee loved her classmates and hated the written word with fiery vengeance.
Perfectly normal.
*
“You know, sugar plum, there’s a chance your Viola’s a Slayer.” Lorne mopped his streaming brow as he spoke. “The runaround she gives us oldies... well, it’s not your average kid.”
Vee could be a Slayer, or the divine equivalent. Sebastian was practically born to be a Watcher. Wesley hoped they’d become engineers. Or acrobats. Or... well, almost anything but prostitutes or drug runners or heroes, frankly.
“There’s plenty of time to think about that when she’s older.” Much older. The fate of the world could take care of itself. Wesley was done.
*
Illyria and discipline were antithetical concepts. She applauded Vee’s fighting, pausing only occasionally to correct technique and never to defend the victim, however hapless or mercurially selected. Sebastian was harder for her to understand; she thought of him as Wesley, but shorter, and was frustrated by his immaturity. She wanted him to bestride continents. He wanted to be still.
She missed those moments of silent, total focus, when Sebastian couldn't have been more like her if he'd been an ageless immortal spending millennia awaiting his resurrection. Vee was a butterfly, changeable as her father, moving from conviction to conviction as life led her along her own path. Sebastian was immovably eternal. Stubborn as hell, frankly.
*
When Vee was ill, she burned with fever, cross and fidgety, never stopping to rest. Hellish for her nurses. When Seb was ill, he snuffled damply, curling away from the light, snuggling into the side of his carer and whining when abandoned.
Equally hell, but opposite.
*
Cohabiting with an Old One and her godlings was never normal. Wesley was an idiot.
*
They were perfectly normal children.
*
Viola walked at six months, and could give Lorne a decent fight at two.
Sebastian didn’t speak until he was four, but he read. His third sentence included the word ‘gustatory’.
*
It took almost a year to find a priest willing to baptise them. They cooed at the touch of the holy water.
Which was unusual, but not actually demonic.
*
Vee’s eyes flashed blue in the night. “Old ones do not sleep.”
“I’ve told you before, you’re not an old one. Also, your mother does in fact sleep. So in both respects, your argument lacks validity. Plus, you have school tomorrow.”
“I hate school. It’s just for ‘Bastian.”
Sebastian nodded, silently. He adored school. Except for the other students. Vee loved her classmates and hated the written word with fiery vengeance.
Perfectly normal.
*
“You know, sugar plum, there’s a chance your Viola’s a Slayer.” Lorne mopped his streaming brow as he spoke. “The runaround she gives us oldies... well, it’s not your average kid.”
Vee could be a Slayer, or the divine equivalent. Sebastian was practically born to be a Watcher. Wesley hoped they’d become engineers. Or acrobats. Or... well, almost anything but prostitutes or drug runners or heroes, frankly.
“There’s plenty of time to think about that when she’s older.” Much older. The fate of the world could take care of itself. Wesley was done.
*
Illyria and discipline were antithetical concepts. She applauded Vee’s fighting, pausing only occasionally to correct technique and never to defend the victim, however hapless or mercurially selected. Sebastian was harder for her to understand; she thought of him as Wesley, but shorter, and was frustrated by his immaturity. She wanted him to bestride continents. He wanted to be still.
She missed those moments of silent, total focus, when Sebastian couldn't have been more like her if he'd been an ageless immortal spending millennia awaiting his resurrection. Vee was a butterfly, changeable as her father, moving from conviction to conviction as life led her along her own path. Sebastian was immovably eternal. Stubborn as hell, frankly.
*
When Vee was ill, she burned with fever, cross and fidgety, never stopping to rest. Hellish for her nurses. When Seb was ill, he snuffled damply, curling away from the light, snuggling into the side of his carer and whining when abandoned.
Equally hell, but opposite.
*
Cohabiting with an Old One and her godlings was never normal. Wesley was an idiot.
*