![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
garnigalJeez, I hope someone out there in interwebnet world is reading. I signed up for a ficathon - a fanfiction writing challenge. Actually, to be totally honest, I signed up for three, but the first one, the Giles Ficathon, is due on Mar 7. I started off well, about a month ago, but I slowed down rapidly. Since I was home sick today, I worked on it a bit. I got the first part down.
The challenge I was assigned was Giles and Faith (pairing or not, writer's choice). Different points in time (this can be different seasons, post-Chosen, whatever; just more than one moment in time) and a bit of humor. Due Mar 7th, 750 word minimum. So far I've done the first of the different points in time (Season three, just after Faith, Hope and Trick). My plan is that part two will be Giles visiting Faith in prison, and the last part will be post-Not Fade Away. There may be something in between part two and the last part, set during Season seven, depending on how much time I get at work.
Big problem - I've never written Faith before. I need to, for Guardian, which is still in the planning stages, but I haven't to date. (This is why I wanted you to read this, married_n_michigan) Anyway, I hoped to post part one here (taking a page from your book, minor_ramblings) and get some quick feedback on what needs to be changed. As I finish (start) the other parts, I'll put them up too, if anyone cares.
Anyway, here's part one. Warning! It's freaking long.
“Yo, Giles!”
As soon as the doors swung shut behind her, Faith called out loudly for Giles. Her voice echoed in the Thursday afternoon silence.
She waited by the desk for Giles to show up from wherever he was hiding. She hadn’t been in town long, and she was trying to make a good impression. Patience wasn’t her strong suit however, and she was soon bouncing from one foot to the other, eyes roving the large room in search of something interesting.
The desk she stood by was bare. The wood was unmarked, not even a knot to look at. She started to turn her head to look restlessly around the rest of the room, but her eye was caught by her own reflection in the shiny varnish. Briefly, she examined herself. In her dark clothes and dark, loose hair, her face seemed to float, bodiless and pale, in nothingness. Her lips, covered in blood-red lipstick, were the only things that really stood out; even her dark eyes were lost in the background. ‘Like a vampire,’ she thought, ‘the better to eat you with.’ Shuddering, she strode across the room to pull a tissue from the box precariously perched atop a pile of papers and books on the large table and wiped the lipstick off.
With perfect grace, Faith spun on her toes to throw the Kleenex in the garbage can. A glint, mostly hidden by the papers, caught her eye. She stumbled slightly, but recovered enough to still send the crumpled tissue into the trash, bouncing it off the wall on the way. Garbage disposed of, Faith’s glance returned to the table, and she pushed papers aside until the hilt of a sword was revealed.
Giles was ensconced in his office, with his feet propped on the desk, a cup of tea on his right and was well into the latest Ian Rankin mystery when he heard Faith call out his name. Quickly he tossed the novel into a drawer and pushed it closed, grabbed an appropriately heavy and serious-looking tome and walked out to greet the slayer.
He spotted Faith by the table, hefting a sword and giving it a few experimental swings. He set his tea on the desk, and leaned back against the wall to watch her form. He noted her stability, a solidity that Buffy lacked. Her attack was strong and confident. A frown crossed his face as he continued to watch. As she moved through the motions of an attack, Giles noticed that Faith often failed to defend herself, leaving her open to attack. She kept pushing forward, failing to protect her back, relying on her own superior strength to survive. With a final flourish, Faith ended her swordplay. She turned towards Giles with a toss of her dark hair and a challenging smile on her lips, confident in her ability to attract a man’s attention and certain that Giles would be impressed with her fighting skills.
“That sword is a piece of crap,” Faith said, tossing it back on the table. “The steel is weak, the balance is way off and whoever made it paid much more attention to the decoration on the hilt than the actual killing edge.” Faith flashed Giles her killer smile again. “I said we’d talk weapons.”
Giles picked up his mug to hide a smile. Her brash, overt sexuality might work on most of the men she met, but Giles wasn’t most men. As Ripper, Giles was an expert in the use of sex to manipulate and lure. As a Watcher, he’d been trained to deal with the sexual tension that working with the Slayers could generate. Watchers were as much taught to be psychologists as researchers and martial trainers.
Giles led the way to the cage without speaking. Resisting the temptation to open the weapons chests with the same drama as Faith employed in her demonstration, Giles simply lifted the lids and stepped aside. Giles didn’t bother to hide the smile that escaped this time. Faith’s enthusiasm for the weaponry was genuine, leaving her oblivious to Giles’ indulgent look. Like a hungry puppy, Faith wriggled past him, falling to her knees to sort through the weapons displayed.
Faith pulled out axes, swords, knives, and crossbows, rapidly emptying the boxes holding the weapons collection. As always, her eyes were particularly drawn to the brightest and sharpest weapons. Giles noticed her glance returning again and again to a short throwing axe and a bright silver hunting knife.
“Go ahead and take whatever weapons you prefer, Faith. Buffy already has a collection at home. It’s dangerous to walk around Sunnydale without weapons, even for slayers.” Faith glanced up at Giles through dark lashes, and, apparently deciding he was genuinely offering, grabbed the axe and knife, somehow secreting them in her skintight outfit. “We have an hour or two before Buffy is out of class; why don’t we train a bit? If I’m going to be your watcher, I need to get to know your fighting style.” Giles asked this casually, somehow sure that any attempt to pressure or guilt Faith as he did Buffy would send the skittish brunette running. Giles walked into the center of the library, snatching up kicking and punching targets on the way.
Faith followed hesitantly. “You train here? Aren’t you worried about getting caught?”
“Really, Faith,” Giles said sardonically. “This is a high school library. Who’s going to come here?”
Faith let out a surprised laugh at Giles sarcastic comment. Snapping her foot out at the target in a perfectly executed roundhouse and following it up with a reverse punch she said, “I didn’t know the British had sarcasm.”
“My dear, we invented the concept. Don’t let your leg drop on that kick.”
Watcher and watched fell into an easy rhythm. Giles ran Faith through kicking and punching, warming her up gently then ending up with a series complex combo kicks, both praising and correcting as they went. By the end, they were both breathing heavily.
Only a few minutes remained before the bell rang, the bell that would signal the imminent arrival of Buffy, Willow and Xander. Faith and Giles sprawled in chairs around the table, still covered in papers, but now stacked with weapons as well. They sipped at water bottles, for long moments too tired to speak.
Shortly however, Faith jumped up. “Well, thanks for the workout, Giles.” She headed for the door.
Giles was stunned by her sudden departure, and Faith made it almost to the door before he found words. “Aren’t you going to stay? I was hoping you and Buffy would work out together, get used to each others moves.” He struggled to sound nonchalant, despite his weariness and worry about Faith’s abrupt exit.
“Maybe next time, Giles. Got shit to do, you know? Thanks for the workout.” The door swung shut behind her.
Giles stared at the still swinging door, willing Faith to come back. He had things to teach her, things that could help keep her alive. He had to get her to trust him, to trust Buffy. The door stayed stubbornly shut. With a sigh, Giles delved into the pile of papers, coming up with his Watcher’s journal from the bottom. Opening to a clean page, he started making a list of things his new slayer needed to work on.
Thanks bunches in advance!
The challenge I was assigned was Giles and Faith (pairing or not, writer's choice). Different points in time (this can be different seasons, post-Chosen, whatever; just more than one moment in time) and a bit of humor. Due Mar 7th, 750 word minimum. So far I've done the first of the different points in time (Season three, just after Faith, Hope and Trick). My plan is that part two will be Giles visiting Faith in prison, and the last part will be post-Not Fade Away. There may be something in between part two and the last part, set during Season seven, depending on how much time I get at work.
Big problem - I've never written Faith before. I need to, for Guardian, which is still in the planning stages, but I haven't to date. (This is why I wanted you to read this, married_n_michigan) Anyway, I hoped to post part one here (taking a page from your book, minor_ramblings) and get some quick feedback on what needs to be changed. As I finish (start) the other parts, I'll put them up too, if anyone cares.
Anyway, here's part one. Warning! It's freaking long.
“Yo, Giles!”
As soon as the doors swung shut behind her, Faith called out loudly for Giles. Her voice echoed in the Thursday afternoon silence.
She waited by the desk for Giles to show up from wherever he was hiding. She hadn’t been in town long, and she was trying to make a good impression. Patience wasn’t her strong suit however, and she was soon bouncing from one foot to the other, eyes roving the large room in search of something interesting.
The desk she stood by was bare. The wood was unmarked, not even a knot to look at. She started to turn her head to look restlessly around the rest of the room, but her eye was caught by her own reflection in the shiny varnish. Briefly, she examined herself. In her dark clothes and dark, loose hair, her face seemed to float, bodiless and pale, in nothingness. Her lips, covered in blood-red lipstick, were the only things that really stood out; even her dark eyes were lost in the background. ‘Like a vampire,’ she thought, ‘the better to eat you with.’ Shuddering, she strode across the room to pull a tissue from the box precariously perched atop a pile of papers and books on the large table and wiped the lipstick off.
With perfect grace, Faith spun on her toes to throw the Kleenex in the garbage can. A glint, mostly hidden by the papers, caught her eye. She stumbled slightly, but recovered enough to still send the crumpled tissue into the trash, bouncing it off the wall on the way. Garbage disposed of, Faith’s glance returned to the table, and she pushed papers aside until the hilt of a sword was revealed.
Giles was ensconced in his office, with his feet propped on the desk, a cup of tea on his right and was well into the latest Ian Rankin mystery when he heard Faith call out his name. Quickly he tossed the novel into a drawer and pushed it closed, grabbed an appropriately heavy and serious-looking tome and walked out to greet the slayer.
He spotted Faith by the table, hefting a sword and giving it a few experimental swings. He set his tea on the desk, and leaned back against the wall to watch her form. He noted her stability, a solidity that Buffy lacked. Her attack was strong and confident. A frown crossed his face as he continued to watch. As she moved through the motions of an attack, Giles noticed that Faith often failed to defend herself, leaving her open to attack. She kept pushing forward, failing to protect her back, relying on her own superior strength to survive. With a final flourish, Faith ended her swordplay. She turned towards Giles with a toss of her dark hair and a challenging smile on her lips, confident in her ability to attract a man’s attention and certain that Giles would be impressed with her fighting skills.
“That sword is a piece of crap,” Faith said, tossing it back on the table. “The steel is weak, the balance is way off and whoever made it paid much more attention to the decoration on the hilt than the actual killing edge.” Faith flashed Giles her killer smile again. “I said we’d talk weapons.”
Giles picked up his mug to hide a smile. Her brash, overt sexuality might work on most of the men she met, but Giles wasn’t most men. As Ripper, Giles was an expert in the use of sex to manipulate and lure. As a Watcher, he’d been trained to deal with the sexual tension that working with the Slayers could generate. Watchers were as much taught to be psychologists as researchers and martial trainers.
Giles led the way to the cage without speaking. Resisting the temptation to open the weapons chests with the same drama as Faith employed in her demonstration, Giles simply lifted the lids and stepped aside. Giles didn’t bother to hide the smile that escaped this time. Faith’s enthusiasm for the weaponry was genuine, leaving her oblivious to Giles’ indulgent look. Like a hungry puppy, Faith wriggled past him, falling to her knees to sort through the weapons displayed.
Faith pulled out axes, swords, knives, and crossbows, rapidly emptying the boxes holding the weapons collection. As always, her eyes were particularly drawn to the brightest and sharpest weapons. Giles noticed her glance returning again and again to a short throwing axe and a bright silver hunting knife.
“Go ahead and take whatever weapons you prefer, Faith. Buffy already has a collection at home. It’s dangerous to walk around Sunnydale without weapons, even for slayers.” Faith glanced up at Giles through dark lashes, and, apparently deciding he was genuinely offering, grabbed the axe and knife, somehow secreting them in her skintight outfit. “We have an hour or two before Buffy is out of class; why don’t we train a bit? If I’m going to be your watcher, I need to get to know your fighting style.” Giles asked this casually, somehow sure that any attempt to pressure or guilt Faith as he did Buffy would send the skittish brunette running. Giles walked into the center of the library, snatching up kicking and punching targets on the way.
Faith followed hesitantly. “You train here? Aren’t you worried about getting caught?”
“Really, Faith,” Giles said sardonically. “This is a high school library. Who’s going to come here?”
Faith let out a surprised laugh at Giles sarcastic comment. Snapping her foot out at the target in a perfectly executed roundhouse and following it up with a reverse punch she said, “I didn’t know the British had sarcasm.”
“My dear, we invented the concept. Don’t let your leg drop on that kick.”
Watcher and watched fell into an easy rhythm. Giles ran Faith through kicking and punching, warming her up gently then ending up with a series complex combo kicks, both praising and correcting as they went. By the end, they were both breathing heavily.
Only a few minutes remained before the bell rang, the bell that would signal the imminent arrival of Buffy, Willow and Xander. Faith and Giles sprawled in chairs around the table, still covered in papers, but now stacked with weapons as well. They sipped at water bottles, for long moments too tired to speak.
Shortly however, Faith jumped up. “Well, thanks for the workout, Giles.” She headed for the door.
Giles was stunned by her sudden departure, and Faith made it almost to the door before he found words. “Aren’t you going to stay? I was hoping you and Buffy would work out together, get used to each others moves.” He struggled to sound nonchalant, despite his weariness and worry about Faith’s abrupt exit.
“Maybe next time, Giles. Got shit to do, you know? Thanks for the workout.” The door swung shut behind her.
Giles stared at the still swinging door, willing Faith to come back. He had things to teach her, things that could help keep her alive. He had to get her to trust him, to trust Buffy. The door stayed stubbornly shut. With a sigh, Giles delved into the pile of papers, coming up with his Watcher’s journal from the bottom. Opening to a clean page, he started making a list of things his new slayer needed to work on.
Thanks bunches in advance!
