Fic: Theory and Practice (Faith/Giles)

Sep 27, 2009 17:05

Title: Theory and Practice
Pairing: Faith/Giles
Rating: PG13 (barely)
Summary: five important conversations in one relationship
Words: 1500
Genre: still with the fluff.
A/N: This is it: all the domestic fluff I never write, in a single package. And the obsession ends here. After this, when I write more F/G, there will be plot. And blood loss. It’s a solemn vow (because we know how well that worked last time). In terms of timing, this starts shortly after Breaking the Rules and covers at least two years, probably closer to three. New Worlds of Fear fits between 1 and 2 here.



1.
“And so, I wanted to tell you all that Faith has done me the very great honour of agreeing to marry me.” Giles paused, smile at semi-beam, watching the core Slayer Council and waiting for the expected avalanche of-

-creaking snowbank up above-

-here it came-

“Oh my God! You guys are getting married!”

“Hey, congratulations!”

“Giles! That’s such great news!”

“Have you set a date?”

“Will you get married here?”

-bridesmaids-venues-menus-rings-page boys-flowers-tiaras-guest list-

When the avalanche swept up to “Who’s going to give Faith away?” (and everyone tried a little too hard not to look at Xander), Faith finally opened her mouth.

“No.”

Collective “Huh?”

“Not happening.”

Their faces started to fall, as though some terrible rebuff were coming. The fact that Giles was still smiling should perhaps have been a clue that it wasn’t.

Faith raised a brow at the assembled group: “This stuff you’ve just been...”

“Helpfully bringing to the fore,” Giles supplied. In lieu of “babbling about”, which was probably what Faith had had in mind.

“Yeah... We thought about that. And- No.”

Giles tried to soften it. “In fact, we’re not at the planning stage, so much as accomplishment.”

Faith translated for the baffled crowd: “We did it already. Got married. Today.”

Luckily, they had laid on a lot of booze to celebrate, so they were forgiven in the end.

2.
“You did what?” Giles could actually feel his eyeballs bulging with rage. This might be the death of him.

“I did my job, G.” Faith was right in his face, scowling.

“You’re seven months pregnant! You can’t just run around Europe killing bear-demons for fun anymore!” Giles, even through the fury, had a feeling that had been the wrong thing to say.

He was correct. “Fun? You think it’s FUN to save a whole region’s population from a brand new demonic species? Which fucking stinks, let me tell you, ‘specially close up. It’s my fucking destiny.”

“You didn’t have to do it personally.”

“Yeah? Right. I’ve just pulled every string in the book (and since my damn husband runs this show that’s some pretty strong strings), and I’ve sent their chief off to Mongolia so’s I can have some nice homey posting in Tromsø (and these girls have been together as a unit for four years G) and all because we got careless - and I got knocked up - and then I just leave them there when this big new thing comes up?”

It was tangled, but Giles got the gist. “Yes. Because the point of the fucking string-pulling was for you to survive long enough to give birth and - ideally - to be a mother. Can you even run anymore?”

Um. That might have been another false step. Faith’s eyes narrowed. “I can run faster than you ever could, Old Man. And I could kick your ass, both hands behind my back. Wanna watch me?”

Giles looked at her, beautiful woman, as slim and muscled as ever bar the bulge of her pregnancy, and pictured her bound, full-bellied and still kicking out at him. She’d do it, too. Don’t laugh. Don’t. This is serious. His mouth was twitching involuntarily. She might actually kill you if you laugh now. He turned towards the office window, taking a soothing look at the misty hills. “Did you talk to Dr Ward?”

“Yes. Before and after.”

There went the moral high ground. Unless- “And he said killing bear-monsters counted as moderate physical exertion?”

“Pretty much, for Slayers. It’s not like I’m the first he’s seen. It’s getting like we’ll need a kids’ club soon.” It was true. Buffy had already proved that an unforeseen hazard in combining Slaying with motherhood was getting the breast pump entangled with a crossbow at a critical juncture.

“I know. Sorry. I just... I hate you being in danger. Especially now.” Giles had to admit, it was time to grovel.

Faith was still shut off, though. “It’s what I do. Nothing’s changed. I’ll be glad when this is over.”

He watched her leave the office. Oh Faith. It never will be over. I hope you know that.

3.
“Tad. Dusty. Jed. Sparkle. Madison.”

Giles didn’t even look up from his book. “Now you’re just trying to torture me.”

Faith chuckled, then flinched as she shifted her bulk into a less comfortable position. “Yeah, but still, come on. Names are important.”

“We’ll work something out.”

“Seriously, G. There’s a reason why no one calls you Rupert. It’s just not a good name. We need a good name.”

“And that’s something that would have been greatly facilitated had you allowed us to know what the relevant gender is. All this effort is 50% wasted, you know.”

“I wanted a surprise. You know I love surprises.”

“Nothing’s ready. Couldn’t buy anything because we don’t know what colours to get.”

“Two words, G. Gifts. And gender-stereotyping. Or is that three words? Whatever. We’ve got, like, forty Slayers lining up to buy presents, plus Willow has the scariest collection of babywear catalogues I’ve ever seen...”

“And I assume she’s the one worried about gender-stereotyping too?”

“Well, the actual words, yeah. But G, there’s a lot of pink crap out there for girls. You wouldn’t want that for little Betsy-Lou, would you?”

Faith had a point. Names were important. Giles tried to imagine himself calling for Baby Betsy-Lou in the park. It was a bad moment.

“Anyway, we’re stuck here for, like, hours. Unless this happens real fast, and I’m thinking not, cuz this brat’s been damn lazy so far. So let’s get going.”

And so, that night the maternity unit rang to the sound of:

“Aloysius?”

“Over my cold, dead body.”

“Jojo?”

“Sounds like a chimpanzee. Not a bright one, at that.”

“William?”

“My first boyfriend was a Billy. Stupid ears.”

Wistfully. “Andrew’s a good name, you know.”

“I know, but... we just can’t.”

And so forth.

4.
“This is literally the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Faith’s voice was tiny and grey. Giles tried his best to distract her

“Harder than saving the world from Angelus?”

“Way harder.” She leant back against him.

“Harder than killing a man? No, don’t answer that.”

“Actually, yes. After the first one.”

Giles shifted slightly, to settle her more comfortably. “That’s deeply disturbing.”

“You asked.” She was losing consciousness. Giles went for the big one.

“Harder than giving birth to him?”

“Yes. Though I’ll deny that if asked in public.”

Oh Faith. I’m sorry. “They do say the two-hourly feeds get easier with time.”

“They lie, G. They lie, or no one would ever go through with this hell. I’m thinking formula sounds pretty good right now. And you can do all the night feeds. I’ll get in a little restful Slaying instead. Right Mike?”

The baby rolled one uninterested eye in his mother’s direction, before resuming his 3am snack. “See? He’s with me.”

5.
“You’ve got his blankie? And the Metanium? Don’t forget about the ducks at bathtime: he likes both of them, and he’ll want one to take to bed. And-”

Giles put both hands on her shoulders. “Faith. I’ve known Michael as long as you. I think we’ve got the routine sorted out. And I can always call if I have to.”

“Yeah, but... c’m on. It’s a big deal.” Faith was looking past him at the closed door of the nursery.

“Yes, it is. So it’s my turn. Do you have the Klaver? And the Natalis Pyx? And that flying ointment for Asbjørg?”

“Check check check. It’s okay G. I’m rusty, but I’m not brain-dead.”

“No, I don’t imagine you are. But if you think I’m not going to fret about you this time, you’re an idiot. This is a serious mission, and it’s not what I would call ideal for your first time away. But I hope you have a marvellous time killing demons, and, obviously, save the world and all that.”

“Do my best. Should be about a week if it goes clockwork.” Faith hitched her mission pack on one shoulder, kissed Giles thoroughly. “If he likes the banana, try him with steamed squash, okay? Tastes like crap to me, but it’s next in the book. Dragon’s teeth for the incantation: 100% definite, not the snakeshead?” And left, while he was still confirming the last.

Giles watched her out of sight. Back to waiting for the phone to ring. Michael started to fuss in the nursery.

“It’s no use grizzling, old thing. She’s a Slayer.”

***

rulesverse

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