Yes, I know I don't own any of these guys. I know that, you know that, we
all know that, so why do you keep rubbing it in? It's not fair!
.
.
* * * * *
Francis and Piama ended up staying for five days, before they said their goodbyes. They really had to get back to the Grotto to work. In that time, Lois was pleased with Faith's progress at becoming domesticated. Faith had no problem handling the washing, after all, she'd been visiting Laundromats since she was sixteen, and housework she discovered was a lot simpler than it sounded. Step one; bundle everything into the closet and secure. Step two; dust and vacuum wherever it is impossible to slide mess under the rug, or the couch. Step three; make sure the closet doesn't explode under the pressure.
While she had been at home, Lois took care of the cooking, and it was only when she went back to work that Faith realised she didn't know how to make anything more advanced than a bowl of fruit loops.
On the first night she was left to cook alone, Faith decided to try something simple. She began with steak, potato and vegetables, and finished with the charred remains of a kitchen fire and a mental note to replace the curtains in the kitchen window. She ordered pizza.
On her second night of cooking, Faith decided she would cook chicken, and keep all flammable objects well away from the stove. She took one look at the finished product: a chicken burnt on the outside, yet frozen on the inside, and a pot full of shrivelled up greens and started scanning the Chinese take-out menu.
On the third night she decided to try the steak option again. With a stern reminder to herself that she was almost out of money for the week and she couldn't afford take-out again, Faith set to work. She washed the potatoes and picked up the vegetable peeler to skin them when Reese wandered into the kitchen to watch the show.
"So what are you 'cooking' tonight?" he smirked, leaning against the counter.
"Steak," Faith responded testily.
"Ah, must be pizza night again," Reese joked.
Frustrated, the Slayer threw the potato and the peeler into the sink. "Look, Reese- tell me to stake this thing, fine. Tell me to decapitate, eviscerate, or in any other way maim dinner, no problem-"
"Well, you've got incineration down," he casually remarked.
After a split second of pure rage clouding her senses subsided, Faith had to conceal a smile. Reese was absolutely right. She shook her head. "Fine then, Martha Stewart. You think you could do better?" she challenged.
With a broad grin, Reese shoved his sister out of the way. "Watch and learn."
The family sat down to dinner, all of them secretly surprised that they hadn't had to resort to fast food... again.
"Faith, this is wonderful!" Hal exclaimed. "I guess that cooking ability may be in the blood after all," he gestured to Reese, whose eyes lit up. What Hal didn't notice, however, was that Faith had just slipped Reese five dollars under the table.
As the meal ended, Faith cast an eye out the window. It had gotten dark. Also, Reese had made a huge mess with the cooking and she didn't want to have to clean it up. She stood up, making ready to leave. "Well, I really should get out there, start kicking some Undead ass."
She was half way to the door when Hal called out to stop her. "Uh, sweetie? Home by midnight, please."
Faith's jaw dropped. She gaped at her father. Whoever heard of a twenty-one year old Slayer, a rogue one at that, with a curfew? Not to mention her current fugitive status.
"Dad-" she began to protest, but was cut off by his hand coming up to forestall her.
"Don't 'Dad' me. I mean it, young lady, home by midnight or no patrolling for a week."
Instead of responding and starting a completely pointless and insane argument, the kind her father was best at, Faith snapped her mouth shut and nodded. She just hoped that evil was planning on an early night. She went out and patrolled, luckily finding it a relatively quiet night, and was home with five minutes to spare. She found Hal passed out on the couch in front of some Mexican Soap Opera, obviously trying in vain to wait up for her.
She tried shaking him awake, but when he refused to stir, she lost patience and gave him a swift shove off the couch.
Hal hit the floor and awoke with a girlish yelp. He looked up through his hazy vision to see his daughter staring down at him, fake concern barely masking the amusement twinkling in her eyes.
"Dad?"
"I'm ok," he scrambled to his feet, trying to maintain a shred of dignity. "It's late sweetie. You should get to bed." He kissed her temple and walked off in the direction of his and Lois' room, absently rubbing his hip where he had landed awkwardly on it.
Faith returned to her own room. She closed the door and turned around, only to find a figure perched silently on the edge of her bed, gazing up at her expectantly.
"What? I gave you five for dinner, and that's all you're getting," Faith told Reese immediately, guessing he had come to her for more adequate remuneration for his work in the kitchen earlier.
"It's not about the money," Reese protested.
"It's not?"
"No. It's a little more creative than that. You have skills I want... I have skills you need..."
Faith groaned. Stupid as he was, her brother could still be diabolical at times. Either way here, she was screwed and he knew it. If she didn't learn how to cook, she'd lose a fortune she didn't even have ordering take-out. On the other hand, if their mother caught her imparting her weapons and combat knowledge with Reese, they'd both be killed. And Faith wasn't even very good with the imparting.
"Talk fast little brother."
"Simple. If you teach me how to use your weapons and stuff, I'll make sure you can cook a meal and the house will still be standing after."
"If Mom finds out about this, you're dust," Faith half-warned, half- threatened.
Reese smirked. He was ready for Faith's veiled suggestion that she could easily dob him in. "True, but I doubt she'll be finding out. After all, it wouldn't be just me getting busted."
At length, Faith extended her hand. "Deal."
"Awesome," Reese accepted the outstretched hand, and the agreement was sealed.
* * * * *
Hmm- throwing some weapons into the mix, this should be fun! Don't forget to review [begs] pleeeeeeeease. ~Anoron
.
* * * * *
Francis and Piama ended up staying for five days, before they said their goodbyes. They really had to get back to the Grotto to work. In that time, Lois was pleased with Faith's progress at becoming domesticated. Faith had no problem handling the washing, after all, she'd been visiting Laundromats since she was sixteen, and housework she discovered was a lot simpler than it sounded. Step one; bundle everything into the closet and secure. Step two; dust and vacuum wherever it is impossible to slide mess under the rug, or the couch. Step three; make sure the closet doesn't explode under the pressure.
While she had been at home, Lois took care of the cooking, and it was only when she went back to work that Faith realised she didn't know how to make anything more advanced than a bowl of fruit loops.
On the first night she was left to cook alone, Faith decided to try something simple. She began with steak, potato and vegetables, and finished with the charred remains of a kitchen fire and a mental note to replace the curtains in the kitchen window. She ordered pizza.
On her second night of cooking, Faith decided she would cook chicken, and keep all flammable objects well away from the stove. She took one look at the finished product: a chicken burnt on the outside, yet frozen on the inside, and a pot full of shrivelled up greens and started scanning the Chinese take-out menu.
On the third night she decided to try the steak option again. With a stern reminder to herself that she was almost out of money for the week and she couldn't afford take-out again, Faith set to work. She washed the potatoes and picked up the vegetable peeler to skin them when Reese wandered into the kitchen to watch the show.
"So what are you 'cooking' tonight?" he smirked, leaning against the counter.
"Steak," Faith responded testily.
"Ah, must be pizza night again," Reese joked.
Frustrated, the Slayer threw the potato and the peeler into the sink. "Look, Reese- tell me to stake this thing, fine. Tell me to decapitate, eviscerate, or in any other way maim dinner, no problem-"
"Well, you've got incineration down," he casually remarked.
After a split second of pure rage clouding her senses subsided, Faith had to conceal a smile. Reese was absolutely right. She shook her head. "Fine then, Martha Stewart. You think you could do better?" she challenged.
With a broad grin, Reese shoved his sister out of the way. "Watch and learn."
The family sat down to dinner, all of them secretly surprised that they hadn't had to resort to fast food... again.
"Faith, this is wonderful!" Hal exclaimed. "I guess that cooking ability may be in the blood after all," he gestured to Reese, whose eyes lit up. What Hal didn't notice, however, was that Faith had just slipped Reese five dollars under the table.
As the meal ended, Faith cast an eye out the window. It had gotten dark. Also, Reese had made a huge mess with the cooking and she didn't want to have to clean it up. She stood up, making ready to leave. "Well, I really should get out there, start kicking some Undead ass."
She was half way to the door when Hal called out to stop her. "Uh, sweetie? Home by midnight, please."
Faith's jaw dropped. She gaped at her father. Whoever heard of a twenty-one year old Slayer, a rogue one at that, with a curfew? Not to mention her current fugitive status.
"Dad-" she began to protest, but was cut off by his hand coming up to forestall her.
"Don't 'Dad' me. I mean it, young lady, home by midnight or no patrolling for a week."
Instead of responding and starting a completely pointless and insane argument, the kind her father was best at, Faith snapped her mouth shut and nodded. She just hoped that evil was planning on an early night. She went out and patrolled, luckily finding it a relatively quiet night, and was home with five minutes to spare. She found Hal passed out on the couch in front of some Mexican Soap Opera, obviously trying in vain to wait up for her.
She tried shaking him awake, but when he refused to stir, she lost patience and gave him a swift shove off the couch.
Hal hit the floor and awoke with a girlish yelp. He looked up through his hazy vision to see his daughter staring down at him, fake concern barely masking the amusement twinkling in her eyes.
"Dad?"
"I'm ok," he scrambled to his feet, trying to maintain a shred of dignity. "It's late sweetie. You should get to bed." He kissed her temple and walked off in the direction of his and Lois' room, absently rubbing his hip where he had landed awkwardly on it.
Faith returned to her own room. She closed the door and turned around, only to find a figure perched silently on the edge of her bed, gazing up at her expectantly.
"What? I gave you five for dinner, and that's all you're getting," Faith told Reese immediately, guessing he had come to her for more adequate remuneration for his work in the kitchen earlier.
"It's not about the money," Reese protested.
"It's not?"
"No. It's a little more creative than that. You have skills I want... I have skills you need..."
Faith groaned. Stupid as he was, her brother could still be diabolical at times. Either way here, she was screwed and he knew it. If she didn't learn how to cook, she'd lose a fortune she didn't even have ordering take-out. On the other hand, if their mother caught her imparting her weapons and combat knowledge with Reese, they'd both be killed. And Faith wasn't even very good with the imparting.
"Talk fast little brother."
"Simple. If you teach me how to use your weapons and stuff, I'll make sure you can cook a meal and the house will still be standing after."
"If Mom finds out about this, you're dust," Faith half-warned, half- threatened.
Reese smirked. He was ready for Faith's veiled suggestion that she could easily dob him in. "True, but I doubt she'll be finding out. After all, it wouldn't be just me getting busted."
At length, Faith extended her hand. "Deal."
"Awesome," Reese accepted the outstretched hand, and the agreement was sealed.
* * * * *
Hmm- throwing some weapons into the mix, this should be fun! Don't forget to review [begs] pleeeeeeeease. ~Anoron