Spamming with Fluff (Ficlet: F/G)
Title: New Worlds of Fear
Words: 290
Pairing: Faith/Giles
Genre: Fluff. Sugar-sweet. Though note contrasting warning below.
Sequel: to Breaking the Rules
Warnings: implied references to abortion. Which in my country is (within limits) legal and acceptable. Please go elsewhere if that disturbs or angers you.
A/N: I did not write this. I’m blaming drugs, fever, tonsillitis, deird1 and the hijacking of my brain by a sentimental hedgehog (“Call me Edgar!”). He’ll be hibernating soon, and we shall speak of this no more. Unless I’m not cured of domesticity by then. Help me.
Giles was shaking slightly; just a tremor. But he couldn’t look away. “What have we done?”
Faith’s hand crept over his. “C’m on G, it was an accident. No blame...”
“Shared responsibility, though. And if only we’d realised sooner, this need never have happened...” Faith's comforting hand suddenly froze over his, nails digging into his skin.
“Damn! That’s ugly. That can’t be good.”
Giles’s turn to reassure. “Well, I’m no expert on this either - this is outside my professional experience to date, thank God. But I think it’s relatively normal at this stage. You know, before it’s fully fledged. I’ll consult the relevant texts when we get out of here.”
The nurse smiled at them. “Mr Giles? Ms Lehane? Everything’s quite normal, I assure you. Twelve weeks along and perfectly healthy judging by the ultrasound.”
*
Faith’s hand was still frozen on his. “Shit. G... this is really happening, isn’t it?” She looked trapped and horrified.
“Apparently so.” Giles looked one last questioning time at her; a look composed of you’ll hate not Slaying for months - I’m just too old for this - we said this wasn’t an option - you’ll go out into danger leaving me more terrified than ever. With it. And more: the product of weeks of fruitless debate so far.
She shook her head. “This is happening.” She still looked trapped, horrified and all the rest. And sure.
“Okay.” Giles stood up, decisively.
Then sat down again, as all the blood drained from his head. “Jesus fucking Christ. We’re having a baby.”
The nurse, clearly not expecting such language from this quiet gentleman, tried to look tolerant of parental vagaries.
Faith tutted at him, shocked. “Hey G? Stop stealing my best lines.”
***
Words: 290
Pairing: Faith/Giles
Genre: Fluff. Sugar-sweet. Though note contrasting warning below.
Sequel: to Breaking the Rules
Warnings: implied references to abortion. Which in my country is (within limits) legal and acceptable. Please go elsewhere if that disturbs or angers you.
A/N: I did not write this. I’m blaming drugs, fever, tonsillitis, deird1 and the hijacking of my brain by a sentimental hedgehog (“Call me Edgar!”). He’ll be hibernating soon, and we shall speak of this no more. Unless I’m not cured of domesticity by then. Help me.
Giles was shaking slightly; just a tremor. But he couldn’t look away. “What have we done?”
Faith’s hand crept over his. “C’m on G, it was an accident. No blame...”
“Shared responsibility, though. And if only we’d realised sooner, this need never have happened...” Faith's comforting hand suddenly froze over his, nails digging into his skin.
“Damn! That’s ugly. That can’t be good.”
Giles’s turn to reassure. “Well, I’m no expert on this either - this is outside my professional experience to date, thank God. But I think it’s relatively normal at this stage. You know, before it’s fully fledged. I’ll consult the relevant texts when we get out of here.”
The nurse smiled at them. “Mr Giles? Ms Lehane? Everything’s quite normal, I assure you. Twelve weeks along and perfectly healthy judging by the ultrasound.”
*
Faith’s hand was still frozen on his. “Shit. G... this is really happening, isn’t it?” She looked trapped and horrified.
“Apparently so.” Giles looked one last questioning time at her; a look composed of you’ll hate not Slaying for months - I’m just too old for this - we said this wasn’t an option - you’ll go out into danger leaving me more terrified than ever. With it. And more: the product of weeks of fruitless debate so far.
She shook her head. “This is happening.” She still looked trapped, horrified and all the rest. And sure.
“Okay.” Giles stood up, decisively.
Then sat down again, as all the blood drained from his head. “Jesus fucking Christ. We’re having a baby.”
The nurse, clearly not expecting such language from this quiet gentleman, tried to look tolerant of parental vagaries.
Faith tutted at him, shocked. “Hey G? Stop stealing my best lines.”
***