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isthecouncilWho: Giles and Faith (no one in particular)
What: Giles revels in the stolen moments.
When: Season 8 comic canon.
Why: Because Joss Whedon sunk my ship.
Warnings: Spoiler warning for issue 33 if you squint.
She’s asleep now; on the bed curled up like a cat still wearing her blue jeans and tired hoodie with nothing underneath he’s almost certain of. Earlier in the evening, they had run through the Platz in the pouring rain and she had his jacket over her head like it’s done in a dozen American romances and it would have been sweet if she hadn’t gotten to the door first and held it open with that smirk on her face that let him know she’s pampering him.
When he spoke to the hotel clerk; she had her arms around him, chest pushed against his back and her hands in his trouser pockets. She’s short; and she had to step on her tip toes to rest her chin on his shoulder and smirk at the clerk. The clerk glanced between them once, twice and deciding they couldn’t be family turned his attention back to the computer. Giles’ comfortable with that, despite the pang of guilt or shame he can’t quite finger why- he can readily slide into the role of John with his girl. Even Faith seems comfortable with it; the thought the clerk has only seems to amuse her because she knows him and so she tugs one hand from his pocket and rubs it across his chest. She winks at the clerk and likes when he shoots a jealous look at Giles and he knows without a shadow of the doubt, the younger man takes comfort in the fact he’s paying for this.
He ran back into the rain to get her something from down the street, it wasn’t much; something to eat that could have one time resembled American cheeseburgers, four lambics and French fries. Last month; they spent a week and half in a four star Parisian hotel and in that con; he was her butler.
They play games; toe around words and they’re comfortable with it.
She’s asleep when he comes back. He didn’t tell her where he was going, she never asks and he wonders if she ever wonders if he’ll come back. He catches himself doing that; wondering, when she’s frustrated with the big stuff and disappears into street corners and alleys to find Vampires or grunt demons to keep her awake. And he’ll tell himself because he’s a Watcher and she’s a Slayer, because they’re partners and nothing else.
He didn’t wake her, she doesn’t get to sleep often and once she told him in passing her sleep was never restful. She doesn’t dream when she’s with him and he’s proud of it. He likes the idea he gives her some peace. He likes that she teases clerks about him, that she makes him uncomfortable, nurses his ego and holds doors open. She makes him feel young and he doesn’t know why that matters suddenly because he’s never regretted his age. He loves she can rest with him. That she stays, even though she doesn’t have to. That she has a home, with him.
Because they do have a life together. That’s what makes this part hard.
Because he loves her; wholly and deeply and he can admit it to himself even if he never has to say it to her and he knows that changes things. More importantly, it makes Faith expendable.
He’d sacrificed anything to protect Buffy. Hasn’t he already? His place at Buffy’s side is littered with dead friends from Ethan to Jenny, and thousands of Watchers long gone that haunt his nightmares. He can see them; even when he’s awake at times; the charred bodies of family and their sightless skulls peering up at him asking him what makes her so important. More important the hundreds of others. The dead are gone; there’s not a Watcher worth his sand that would try and convince him to honor them. But there are girls out there; and he made an oath to them. So what makes Buffy so important, why her above all the rest?
He can tell himself it’s because she is the general; because what’s to come will need her. Because she is still the Chosen One; because he could no more fight destiny then he can prevent. Because there’s a girl on the bed he gets a few months with before the war will tear them apart. He’ll betray her eventually. Despite himself. He’s betraying her now.
He could tell her, try and explain it. Lay it down and tell her what’s wrong and maybe she’d understand. If there’s one thing about Faith he knows more then anything else; she can see the gritty truth, she knows they aren’t the heroes. They’re just warm bodies on the line; holding it for the final charge. She might even understand that. But she’ll never forgive him for betrayal. She’ll understand why he chose Buffy over her. That’s the bitch of it. She’ll get it.
But that leaves the fact it’ll be done, and they’ll be done and all these nights will be gone.
So he plays the coward; because he’s good at cons and he can’t lose her, won’t lose her a second sooner then he has to. She’ll will wake up in a couple of hours and smile at him that teasing grin and they’ll be safe with each other.
And he can push back goodbye for another day. He hates them anyways.
What: Giles revels in the stolen moments.
When: Season 8 comic canon.
Why: Because Joss Whedon sunk my ship.
Warnings: Spoiler warning for issue 33 if you squint.
She’s asleep now; on the bed curled up like a cat still wearing her blue jeans and tired hoodie with nothing underneath he’s almost certain of. Earlier in the evening, they had run through the Platz in the pouring rain and she had his jacket over her head like it’s done in a dozen American romances and it would have been sweet if she hadn’t gotten to the door first and held it open with that smirk on her face that let him know she’s pampering him.
When he spoke to the hotel clerk; she had her arms around him, chest pushed against his back and her hands in his trouser pockets. She’s short; and she had to step on her tip toes to rest her chin on his shoulder and smirk at the clerk. The clerk glanced between them once, twice and deciding they couldn’t be family turned his attention back to the computer. Giles’ comfortable with that, despite the pang of guilt or shame he can’t quite finger why- he can readily slide into the role of John with his girl. Even Faith seems comfortable with it; the thought the clerk has only seems to amuse her because she knows him and so she tugs one hand from his pocket and rubs it across his chest. She winks at the clerk and likes when he shoots a jealous look at Giles and he knows without a shadow of the doubt, the younger man takes comfort in the fact he’s paying for this.
He ran back into the rain to get her something from down the street, it wasn’t much; something to eat that could have one time resembled American cheeseburgers, four lambics and French fries. Last month; they spent a week and half in a four star Parisian hotel and in that con; he was her butler.
They play games; toe around words and they’re comfortable with it.
She’s asleep when he comes back. He didn’t tell her where he was going, she never asks and he wonders if she ever wonders if he’ll come back. He catches himself doing that; wondering, when she’s frustrated with the big stuff and disappears into street corners and alleys to find Vampires or grunt demons to keep her awake. And he’ll tell himself because he’s a Watcher and she’s a Slayer, because they’re partners and nothing else.
He didn’t wake her, she doesn’t get to sleep often and once she told him in passing her sleep was never restful. She doesn’t dream when she’s with him and he’s proud of it. He likes the idea he gives her some peace. He likes that she teases clerks about him, that she makes him uncomfortable, nurses his ego and holds doors open. She makes him feel young and he doesn’t know why that matters suddenly because he’s never regretted his age. He loves she can rest with him. That she stays, even though she doesn’t have to. That she has a home, with him.
Because they do have a life together. That’s what makes this part hard.
Because he loves her; wholly and deeply and he can admit it to himself even if he never has to say it to her and he knows that changes things. More importantly, it makes Faith expendable.
He’d sacrificed anything to protect Buffy. Hasn’t he already? His place at Buffy’s side is littered with dead friends from Ethan to Jenny, and thousands of Watchers long gone that haunt his nightmares. He can see them; even when he’s awake at times; the charred bodies of family and their sightless skulls peering up at him asking him what makes her so important. More important the hundreds of others. The dead are gone; there’s not a Watcher worth his sand that would try and convince him to honor them. But there are girls out there; and he made an oath to them. So what makes Buffy so important, why her above all the rest?
He can tell himself it’s because she is the general; because what’s to come will need her. Because she is still the Chosen One; because he could no more fight destiny then he can prevent. Because there’s a girl on the bed he gets a few months with before the war will tear them apart. He’ll betray her eventually. Despite himself. He’s betraying her now.
He could tell her, try and explain it. Lay it down and tell her what’s wrong and maybe she’d understand. If there’s one thing about Faith he knows more then anything else; she can see the gritty truth, she knows they aren’t the heroes. They’re just warm bodies on the line; holding it for the final charge. She might even understand that. But she’ll never forgive him for betrayal. She’ll understand why he chose Buffy over her. That’s the bitch of it. She’ll get it.
But that leaves the fact it’ll be done, and they’ll be done and all these nights will be gone.
So he plays the coward; because he’s good at cons and he can’t lose her, won’t lose her a second sooner then he has to. She’ll will wake up in a couple of hours and smile at him that teasing grin and they’ll be safe with each other.
And he can push back goodbye for another day. He hates them anyways.
