Sarcastic me says she owns all of the Malcolm/Buffy characters. The normal
me, the one who understands about getting sued and stuff, grudgingly admits
that sarcastic me is not to be listened to. Here's a bit of a lull before
we get into a little stronger action, but I hope you enjoy! Review and let
me know!
* * * * *
Faith opened the shower curtain to see Dewey, sitting fully clothed in the bottom of the shower stall, glance up at her. A moment later, he turned his attention back to the cake he was eating. She closed the lid of the toilet and took a seat, watching her little brother with interest.
Finally, she had to ask, "Dewey, why are you eating cake in the shower?"
Dewey's nose wrinkled as he pondered her question. "I don't know. Nobody ever finds the cake in here, except for one time Malcolm did. . ."
Satisfied with the response he'd given, Dewey trailed off and resumed eating. Far from satisfied and now even more confused, Faith simply responded with, "Ok," and drew the curtain closed, allowing Dewey some privacy to finish up in the shower.
Faith came out of the bathroom and nearly bumped into Malcolm, trying to go in. "Dewey's in there," she said quickly, brushing past him to continue down towards the kitchen, where the phone was now ringing.
Malcolm's Aside: "Ok, I still don't get why Dewey insists on eating his cake in the shower."
Faith, meanwhile, was trying to explain to Reese's girlfriend, Alison, that he wasn't home. "Look, he's not here right now. He's out, as in elsewhere, unavailable, can't come to the phone."
"But... he lives there," Alison responded, seemingly confused by the term 'not here'.
Faith frowned to herself, quietly worried by the thought that not only was there someone in the world just as stupid, if not stupider than her brother, but also that he'd actually found her.
"Yes, he does live here, but at the moment, he isn't here, he's out."
"Where is he?" Alison asked, becoming frustrated.
"Are you blond?" Faith asked, now even more frustrated.
"Well, yes, but I don't see how that helps me finding out where Reese is, and why he isn't there. He's supposed to be here, I'm calling him here- I mean there- I mean...." having even confused herself, Alison went quiet for a moment.
"So... Is Reese there?"
A loud bang echoed throughout the kitchen as Faith slammed the phone down. She was surprised that, with her Slayer strength coupled with her current mood, she hadn't smashed the phone into a million pieces.
The phone rang again and Faith snatched it back up. "What are you, deficient? He's not here!"
"Who's not there?" Angel asked.
"Oh Angel it's just you," Faith sighed with relief.
Slightly hurt by her diminishing words, Angel's voice turned a little bitter. "Yeah, it's *just me*. Just wanting to see how you're going. Just wanting to say hi. Just wanting to keep in touch."
"I get it. Sorry. I just thought you were Reese's girlfriend calling back again. Girl has the brain capacity of a toaster. A broken one," Faith said by way of explanation.
"Oh. Ok. So, how are you Faith?" Angel asked, really not wanting to hear about the girl with the broken toaster.
"Strangeness of my family aside, I'm five by five. How's the Fang Gang? Hotel still standing with not one but two psycho-hormonal teens running around the place?"
Angel laughed. Little did Faith know, Connor and Dawn could be a handful at times. Their moods were surprisingly strong and unpredictable, and it seemed that under Dawn's tutelage, Connor was exploring the fun new world of single parental manipulation. "We're all ok here. Both the hotel and the office are still standing after almost a month and everybody says hi."
"Right back at them," as they talked, Faith moved over to the fridge with the cordless and began pulling out various foods to cook for dinner.
Angel's vampire hearing easily caught the rustling sounds as Faith began to prepare her meal. "What are you doing Faith?"
"Making dinner, Angel. You know dinner- humans eat it. It's like blood, only not. . . gross."
"Blood is not gross! Blood is a powerful source of-" Angel stopped himself before he could fully launch into his pro-blood soliloquy and altered the subject a little. "I didn't know you could cook."
"Can't really. Reese is teaching me. Of course in order to get these cooking lessons I had to make a pact with the devil, sold my soul and very possibly signed my own death warrant in the process. . ."
"Uh, Faith?"
"What? Oh, that. Yeah, I kinda made this deal with my brother where if he teaches me how to cook, I gotta teach him how to use weapons and stuff. Needless to say, if Mom finds out, we're both toast."
Angel was just launching into his very long responsibility lecture, one Faith had heard more times than she cared to remember, when Dewey walked into the kitchen, cake crumbs dotting his mouth and chin. With a wicked grin, Faith waved him over to her.
"Oh, look Angel I gotta go help Mom with the groceries," she lied. "I'll be back in a sec. Here- talk to Dewey." Ignoring Angel's yells of protest, she thrust the phone at Dewey and mouthed 'Angel' to him.
"Hi Angel!" Dewey cried down the phone. "I made a list of all the toys I want so far."
While Dewey began reciting all his Christmas requests to Angel, Faith slipped out the back and lit up a cigarette.
In the solitude of the dishevelled backyard, Faith allowed herself five minutes to relax. She took long, slow drags of her smoke and grinned mischievously to herself as she heard Dewey's light chatter wafting through the open back door. When she was certain Angel had suffered enough and she'd finished her smoke, she ground the butt of her cigarette into the dirt and headed back inside.
Relieving her brother of the phone, she pushed him off in the direction of his room and listened to the pained groans floating down the line. "Hope you wrote all that down, Santa Boy."
"Faith, I have never, ever wished Angelus upon anyone. Until now. I just want you to know that if, for some awful reason, I ever lose my soul again, you'll be the first person I come looking for," Angel threatened. His voice was so dead even that Faith actually almost believed him.
"Looking forward to it. I gotta go, Angel, I'll see you later."
"Yeah, bye Faith."
Faith hung up the phone, smirking. She was a few minutes into making the one meal Reese had successfully taught her so far; potato bake, when the phone rang again. She chuckled to herself as she answered it.
"If you don't stop calling here all the time I'm gonna start making Dewey answer the phone," she said, without waiting to see who was on the other end of the line. "And no Angel, I haven't fallen off the wagon yet and I'm really not planning on it."
"Um... I think we got cut off before. Is Reese there?"
The smirk was wiped off Faith's face by the sound of Alison's voice.
* * * * *
. . Apologies to any Alison fans out there, I just like making fun of her is all. Well, there's that wonderful little review button, just beneath us here, don't forget to hit it! ~Anoron
* * * * *
Faith opened the shower curtain to see Dewey, sitting fully clothed in the bottom of the shower stall, glance up at her. A moment later, he turned his attention back to the cake he was eating. She closed the lid of the toilet and took a seat, watching her little brother with interest.
Finally, she had to ask, "Dewey, why are you eating cake in the shower?"
Dewey's nose wrinkled as he pondered her question. "I don't know. Nobody ever finds the cake in here, except for one time Malcolm did. . ."
Satisfied with the response he'd given, Dewey trailed off and resumed eating. Far from satisfied and now even more confused, Faith simply responded with, "Ok," and drew the curtain closed, allowing Dewey some privacy to finish up in the shower.
Faith came out of the bathroom and nearly bumped into Malcolm, trying to go in. "Dewey's in there," she said quickly, brushing past him to continue down towards the kitchen, where the phone was now ringing.
Malcolm's Aside: "Ok, I still don't get why Dewey insists on eating his cake in the shower."
Faith, meanwhile, was trying to explain to Reese's girlfriend, Alison, that he wasn't home. "Look, he's not here right now. He's out, as in elsewhere, unavailable, can't come to the phone."
"But... he lives there," Alison responded, seemingly confused by the term 'not here'.
Faith frowned to herself, quietly worried by the thought that not only was there someone in the world just as stupid, if not stupider than her brother, but also that he'd actually found her.
"Yes, he does live here, but at the moment, he isn't here, he's out."
"Where is he?" Alison asked, becoming frustrated.
"Are you blond?" Faith asked, now even more frustrated.
"Well, yes, but I don't see how that helps me finding out where Reese is, and why he isn't there. He's supposed to be here, I'm calling him here- I mean there- I mean...." having even confused herself, Alison went quiet for a moment.
"So... Is Reese there?"
A loud bang echoed throughout the kitchen as Faith slammed the phone down. She was surprised that, with her Slayer strength coupled with her current mood, she hadn't smashed the phone into a million pieces.
The phone rang again and Faith snatched it back up. "What are you, deficient? He's not here!"
"Who's not there?" Angel asked.
"Oh Angel it's just you," Faith sighed with relief.
Slightly hurt by her diminishing words, Angel's voice turned a little bitter. "Yeah, it's *just me*. Just wanting to see how you're going. Just wanting to say hi. Just wanting to keep in touch."
"I get it. Sorry. I just thought you were Reese's girlfriend calling back again. Girl has the brain capacity of a toaster. A broken one," Faith said by way of explanation.
"Oh. Ok. So, how are you Faith?" Angel asked, really not wanting to hear about the girl with the broken toaster.
"Strangeness of my family aside, I'm five by five. How's the Fang Gang? Hotel still standing with not one but two psycho-hormonal teens running around the place?"
Angel laughed. Little did Faith know, Connor and Dawn could be a handful at times. Their moods were surprisingly strong and unpredictable, and it seemed that under Dawn's tutelage, Connor was exploring the fun new world of single parental manipulation. "We're all ok here. Both the hotel and the office are still standing after almost a month and everybody says hi."
"Right back at them," as they talked, Faith moved over to the fridge with the cordless and began pulling out various foods to cook for dinner.
Angel's vampire hearing easily caught the rustling sounds as Faith began to prepare her meal. "What are you doing Faith?"
"Making dinner, Angel. You know dinner- humans eat it. It's like blood, only not. . . gross."
"Blood is not gross! Blood is a powerful source of-" Angel stopped himself before he could fully launch into his pro-blood soliloquy and altered the subject a little. "I didn't know you could cook."
"Can't really. Reese is teaching me. Of course in order to get these cooking lessons I had to make a pact with the devil, sold my soul and very possibly signed my own death warrant in the process. . ."
"Uh, Faith?"
"What? Oh, that. Yeah, I kinda made this deal with my brother where if he teaches me how to cook, I gotta teach him how to use weapons and stuff. Needless to say, if Mom finds out, we're both toast."
Angel was just launching into his very long responsibility lecture, one Faith had heard more times than she cared to remember, when Dewey walked into the kitchen, cake crumbs dotting his mouth and chin. With a wicked grin, Faith waved him over to her.
"Oh, look Angel I gotta go help Mom with the groceries," she lied. "I'll be back in a sec. Here- talk to Dewey." Ignoring Angel's yells of protest, she thrust the phone at Dewey and mouthed 'Angel' to him.
"Hi Angel!" Dewey cried down the phone. "I made a list of all the toys I want so far."
While Dewey began reciting all his Christmas requests to Angel, Faith slipped out the back and lit up a cigarette.
In the solitude of the dishevelled backyard, Faith allowed herself five minutes to relax. She took long, slow drags of her smoke and grinned mischievously to herself as she heard Dewey's light chatter wafting through the open back door. When she was certain Angel had suffered enough and she'd finished her smoke, she ground the butt of her cigarette into the dirt and headed back inside.
Relieving her brother of the phone, she pushed him off in the direction of his room and listened to the pained groans floating down the line. "Hope you wrote all that down, Santa Boy."
"Faith, I have never, ever wished Angelus upon anyone. Until now. I just want you to know that if, for some awful reason, I ever lose my soul again, you'll be the first person I come looking for," Angel threatened. His voice was so dead even that Faith actually almost believed him.
"Looking forward to it. I gotta go, Angel, I'll see you later."
"Yeah, bye Faith."
Faith hung up the phone, smirking. She was a few minutes into making the one meal Reese had successfully taught her so far; potato bake, when the phone rang again. She chuckled to herself as she answered it.
"If you don't stop calling here all the time I'm gonna start making Dewey answer the phone," she said, without waiting to see who was on the other end of the line. "And no Angel, I haven't fallen off the wagon yet and I'm really not planning on it."
"Um... I think we got cut off before. Is Reese there?"
The smirk was wiped off Faith's face by the sound of Alison's voice.
* * * * *
. . Apologies to any Alison fans out there, I just like making fun of her is all. Well, there's that wonderful little review button, just beneath us here, don't forget to hit it! ~Anoron