For Ms. Tweed
Requested by Tweedisgood
Character/Pairing: Faith (and Draco snuck in here too)
Prompt: detention
Word: liquid
Faith was quite proud of herself.
This meeting had been dragging on for ages and she wasn’t drumming her nails on the table, she wasn’t staring at the clock, she wasn’t even doodling.
She was, however, doing a rather tricky soft-shoe routine under the table. She was allergic to sitting still this long and at least this way no one could see her fidgeting.
Strike that. The hand pressing down on her thigh and the quick sideways glare from Rupert said at least one person had noticed.
Forty minutes of agonizing stillness later and they were breaking for lunch.
It was a wonder she didn’t run anyone over as she bolted from the stuffy conference room.
She managed to drag Rupert through the lobby, across the street, and had already ordered a double shot of tequila before he had a chance to get a word in.
“I’m sorry - I gather the future of the Council and the possible fate of the world is boring you?” he asked, taking a seat on a bar stool.
Her drink came and she tipped the liquid down her throat before answering. “More like I am suddenly remembering why I dropped out of high school - This is like detention, only worse. At least in detention they let you take a nap.”
Giles rolled his eyes and ordered a scotch. “You didn’t have to come.”
Faith shrugged and nodded to the bartender to send another double her way. “I know and it was cool of you to include me as the official “Voice of the Slayers”, but you can’t tell me you are enjoying these negotiations. You’d think a bunch of people who could turn themselves into newts or fly around the room on broomsticks wouldn’t be so damned dull. Hey, you think they have some sort of mind-numbing magic? That would totally explain it!”
They both turned at the sound of a soft snort behind them and turned to find one of the Wizarding representatives looking amused. “I was about to ask the same about Mr. Wells' presentation - Powerpoint was it? Ten minutes in and I could have sworn you’d somehow worked a Knockout Hex into those ridiculous animations.”
Faith snickered. “Well not all of us can just shoot sparkles and light out of our little pet sticks. Do all wizards favor curlicue gold sparkling text or is that just Fudge? ‘Cause that would really explain why there are so few of you, what with the total lack of interest in propagating the species and all?”
Giles sucked in a breath and held it, waiting for Draco Malfoy’s response.
The corners of Draco’s mouth twitched as he fought to keep a straight face. Finally, he gave up the struggle and chuckled, his lips curving to a Faith-worthy smirk. “Oh yes, WE are the backwards ones. If I understand correctly, you fight evil by poking it with a sharp bit of wood until it dies?”
“Well, sometimes we just cut of its head.”
“Very civilized.”
Giles could almost see months of carefully worded letters and long-distance negotiations evaporating before his eyes.
“Civilized? YOU turn people into newts!”
“Rarely - and only very special people. Besides, most of the time they get better…”
“Most of the time?”
“Well, I did turn a classmate into a semi-aquatic salamander once…”
“That’s what a newt IS, Magic Boy. Also, stop stealing material from Monty Python.”
“Oh, ho - the Colonial isn’t as dumb as she looks. She’s experienced a little culture - or at least been in the same room as it.”
“Ha ha. She hits pretty hard too - wanna test that one out?”
Their drinks arrived, along with a second scotch which Draco claimed. He and Faith studied each other for a long moment before laughing and clinking their glasses together in a mock-toast.
Draco turned to Giles, “That seals it. We have to work out some sort of cooporative agreement. Most of that lot in there never see the front lines, which is a pity because they could totally bore our enemies to death. So Faith, are all Slayers like you?”
Faith tipped back her second drink, setting the glass down with a thunk. “Oh don’t you wish. All wizards like you?”
Draco smirked, “Only in their pathetic little dreams. Now, I hear there’s a decent curry house at the end of this street. We have some serious planning to do if we are going to usher in a new age of amity and brotherhood between the Ministry and the Watcher’s Coucil.”
He offered Faith his arm and she rolled her eyes before accepting. “I’m not so sure about that brotherhood bit.”
“Merely metaphorical I assure you. Though I did hear such interesting things about relations between siblings in the American South…”
“Watch that shit.” Faith elbowed him in the ribs and turned to look back towards the bar. “Giles? You coming?”
Giles sighed and gulped down his drink. It was going to be a very long day.
End.
Character/Pairing: Faith (and Draco snuck in here too)
Prompt: detention
Word: liquid
Faith was quite proud of herself.
This meeting had been dragging on for ages and she wasn’t drumming her nails on the table, she wasn’t staring at the clock, she wasn’t even doodling.
She was, however, doing a rather tricky soft-shoe routine under the table. She was allergic to sitting still this long and at least this way no one could see her fidgeting.
Strike that. The hand pressing down on her thigh and the quick sideways glare from Rupert said at least one person had noticed.
Forty minutes of agonizing stillness later and they were breaking for lunch.
It was a wonder she didn’t run anyone over as she bolted from the stuffy conference room.
She managed to drag Rupert through the lobby, across the street, and had already ordered a double shot of tequila before he had a chance to get a word in.
“I’m sorry - I gather the future of the Council and the possible fate of the world is boring you?” he asked, taking a seat on a bar stool.
Her drink came and she tipped the liquid down her throat before answering. “More like I am suddenly remembering why I dropped out of high school - This is like detention, only worse. At least in detention they let you take a nap.”
Giles rolled his eyes and ordered a scotch. “You didn’t have to come.”
Faith shrugged and nodded to the bartender to send another double her way. “I know and it was cool of you to include me as the official “Voice of the Slayers”, but you can’t tell me you are enjoying these negotiations. You’d think a bunch of people who could turn themselves into newts or fly around the room on broomsticks wouldn’t be so damned dull. Hey, you think they have some sort of mind-numbing magic? That would totally explain it!”
They both turned at the sound of a soft snort behind them and turned to find one of the Wizarding representatives looking amused. “I was about to ask the same about Mr. Wells' presentation - Powerpoint was it? Ten minutes in and I could have sworn you’d somehow worked a Knockout Hex into those ridiculous animations.”
Faith snickered. “Well not all of us can just shoot sparkles and light out of our little pet sticks. Do all wizards favor curlicue gold sparkling text or is that just Fudge? ‘Cause that would really explain why there are so few of you, what with the total lack of interest in propagating the species and all?”
Giles sucked in a breath and held it, waiting for Draco Malfoy’s response.
The corners of Draco’s mouth twitched as he fought to keep a straight face. Finally, he gave up the struggle and chuckled, his lips curving to a Faith-worthy smirk. “Oh yes, WE are the backwards ones. If I understand correctly, you fight evil by poking it with a sharp bit of wood until it dies?”
“Well, sometimes we just cut of its head.”
“Very civilized.”
Giles could almost see months of carefully worded letters and long-distance negotiations evaporating before his eyes.
“Civilized? YOU turn people into newts!”
“Rarely - and only very special people. Besides, most of the time they get better…”
“Most of the time?”
“Well, I did turn a classmate into a semi-aquatic salamander once…”
“That’s what a newt IS, Magic Boy. Also, stop stealing material from Monty Python.”
“Oh, ho - the Colonial isn’t as dumb as she looks. She’s experienced a little culture - or at least been in the same room as it.”
“Ha ha. She hits pretty hard too - wanna test that one out?”
Their drinks arrived, along with a second scotch which Draco claimed. He and Faith studied each other for a long moment before laughing and clinking their glasses together in a mock-toast.
Draco turned to Giles, “That seals it. We have to work out some sort of cooporative agreement. Most of that lot in there never see the front lines, which is a pity because they could totally bore our enemies to death. So Faith, are all Slayers like you?”
Faith tipped back her second drink, setting the glass down with a thunk. “Oh don’t you wish. All wizards like you?”
Draco smirked, “Only in their pathetic little dreams. Now, I hear there’s a decent curry house at the end of this street. We have some serious planning to do if we are going to usher in a new age of amity and brotherhood between the Ministry and the Watcher’s Coucil.”
He offered Faith his arm and she rolled her eyes before accepting. “I’m not so sure about that brotherhood bit.”
“Merely metaphorical I assure you. Though I did hear such interesting things about relations between siblings in the American South…”
“Watch that shit.” Faith elbowed him in the ribs and turned to look back towards the bar. “Giles? You coming?”
Giles sighed and gulped down his drink. It was going to be a very long day.
End.