dragonyphoenix (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonyphoenix) wrote2011-05-12 12:31 am
dragonyphoenix) wrote2011-05-12 12:31 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Lotus in Muddy Water 3: Tar Baby 1/?
Title: Tar Baby
Series: Lotus in Muddy Water
Fandom: BtVS
Characters/Pairing: Faith, Wesley
Rating: PG
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.
Warnings/Squicks: None
Summary: Faith starts seeing a vamp who isn't there.
Notes: Thanks for ideas on what Wesley might wear to a picnic go out to obiwahn, quoshara, and Kivrin. Sadly he never made it to the picnic; I tried writing him there at least twice, but it just wasn't working.
Wesley, sitting in the living room, waited while the girls got ready for the picnic, a process that seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. After all he'd managed to prepare himself in less than half an hour. Donning his baby blue shirt, the one that went so well with his cream colored summer suit, had reminded him of his mother and last Christmas when she'd given it to him. Dressing casually had taken less time than putting on his usual Watcher's suit and he'd started wondering if he could forgo the formality of his usual outfits when Aidan stepped into the room. As the man's appearance reminded him of Grace's comment at breakfast, when she'd called him Aidan's evil twin, Wesley pinched his lips together. When he'd asked her to explain, she'd muttered something about their color schemes, how Aidan's silver hair and dark clothes contrasted with Wesley's dark hair and pale suit. He didn't see how that made him evil. If anything they were mirror images of each other or more along the lines of those tricks with photographic film that switched colors to their opposites.
“Do you have a minute? I've got a question,” Aidan said.
Glancing toward the stairs that led to the bedrooms where the girls were getting ready, Wesley said, “Apparently I have a good number of minutes. We were supposed to have left ten minutes ago, but Claire, Grace, and Faith haven't even made it downstairs yet. I'm not sure what's taking them so long. I'd thought they were appropriately dressed this morning.”
“Good,” Aidan said. “My study.” Leading the way, Aidan added, “I understand you're thesis was on daemoniogenesis?”
Wesley, who'd been wondering why people seemed to ignore half of everything he said, glanced up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Yes,” he agreed, a hint of a smile replacing the frown he hadn't been able to keep at bay as he'd sat there waiting. “My focus was on the creation of werewolves. While some of the more modern researchers, such as Collins, believe the transformation is caused by purely physical, that is chemical, changes in the blood, I agree with DeRosa that there is a more mystical component, the prima daemoni, a pure demonic energy, that is the true cause of the changes. If we could only learn more of it's nature, werewolves might not need to change at all. The curse could be completely negated.”
“I'm more interested in the Hellborn.”
Wesley, who'd been leaning forward, engaged in the discussion, sat back. “But that's nothing more than a myth.”
“I've been told DeRosa's On Demons devotes three chapters to the Hellborn with at least two dozen pages theorizing how daemonion can be made human again.”
“But, but Evans discounted those theories over fifty years ago,” Wesley said.
Aidan waved that aside. “Evans was an idiot. What do you recall of DeRosa's theories?”
Before Wesley could reply, there was a short knock on the door and then Brigit stepped in. “Sorry for the interruption, but if you want to come to the picnic, we need to go now before Grace decides to change again.”
“He's busy,” Aidan said, his voice sounding so firm that Wesley was surprised when Brigit said his name and missed her question.
“What?” Wesley asked.
“I said are you sure you'd rather stay here?” Brigit replied.
Wesley glanced around the book filled room. “Actually, yes,” he said, trying to sound apologetic. “I so rarely get an opportunity to discuss my thesis, you see.”
“The Hellborn?” Brigit asked.
“Well, they weren't my specific focus, but I do have a good understanding of them. How did you know?”
While Brigit was shutting, not replying to Wesley's question, Aidan said, “Back to those theories, I don't suppose you took any notes?”
* * *
Brigit's Subaru inched along, stuck in the long line of traffic. “Geez,” Faith complained. “I think we could have walked faster.”
Brigit shrugged. “We could park it here, right in the middle of the road, and hope the car doesn't get towed. Of course that means you'd have to carry the cooler all the way to the beach.”
“We could always catch another ride back,” Grace chimed.
“Sure,” Brigit agreed. “Aunt Milly has that boat of a car. I'm sure she'd be happy to give you a lift in return for a bit of light work around the house. She's been saying her curtains need washing, and while you're there I'm sure her tub needs to be scrubbed out. You know she hasn't been able to clean properly since she started needing that walker.”
“That's not funny. Mom had me there all day last week,” Grace complained as Claire laughed.
“Hey,” Faith said as Brigit pulled into the left lane, moving around the line of cars exiting for the beach. “Shouldn't we be heading that way?”
“No,” Grace said. “That's Higsbee beach. We're down the road, but we've got dune buggies if you want to check out Higsbee later.”
“Higsbee is the main town beach, over by the boardwalk,” Brigit added. “The kids go back and forth all day.”
“Hey! I'm not a kid,” Grace called out, complaining from the back seat.
Five minutes later, Brigit made a right, driving onto a two lane road where two-storied houses with weathered paint jobs were scattered to each side. Nodding at a group of parked cars, about two or three dozen, Brigit said, “That's where I'll be parking after I've dropped you off.”
Less than a minute later the road ended in a large outcropping of rocks. A stretch of sand led to the beach where five dune buggies sat.
To the right, in the shade made by a canopy of trees that had been planted in a semi-circle with an open meadow in the middle were eight picnic tables, grouped in sets of two. Three grills were set up at the far end with a dozen men gathered around. The rest of the adults mostly stayed in the shade, where it was slightly cooler, while kids ran around in the meadow, aiming water guns at each other. Grace and Claire headed straight for the group of teens, hanging out as close to the beach as they could while still protected by the shade trees.
Two young men, detaching themselves from one of the closer picnic tables, raced each other over, making a game of who was the fastest. As they ran in, slowing down at they approached the car, Faith had to look up. “Damn you're tall.”
As they laughed, Brigit introduced them as her cousins. Faith could see the resemblance; there was something in their faces that looked alike and they each shared Brigit's dark hair although Tom's was short, cut in a windswept style that probably took an hour to achieve, while Dave's hair hung down to his shoulders in soft waves. As the guys picked up the cooler, the one Faith had carried by herself, grunting at the weight, each taking one end, Brigit said, “They think heavy lifting impresses the girls.”
“No,” Dave, the taller of the two said, “we think Grandma Lucy will kick our butts if we don't drag your heavy ass cooler over to the tables.”
“What the hell?” Tom asked. “You fill this up with bricks?”
“Ha, ha. If you didn't eat so much, I wouldn't have to make so much,” Brigit replied.
“Of course we're going to finish it off. Better than lugging it back.”
Rolling her eyes, Brigit asked Faith, “Are you coming back with me to park the car?”
Faith smiled at Brigit's cousins. “I think I can make do with the boys.”
Blushing, Tom glanced back toward the table they'd just come from, but Dave smiled at Faith. As the two men started carrying the cooler toward the tables, Faith stood there, her eyes glued on the guys, her head tilted to one side, smiling as she said, “Oh Momma.”
Brigit, coming round Faith's side, bumped their hips together. “Their brains are up a little higher up than that.”
“Are you sure?” Faith asked, “Because most guys I've met have their brains in their dicks.”
Skipping backward to the car, Brigit added, “Try not to have too much fun.”
“No such thing,” Faith shouted back.
As the car pulled off, scattering gravel behind, a voice called out, echoing her name around her, “Faith. Faith. Faith.” It was a voice that belonged in darkness.
Shifting into a fighting stance, Faith scanned the tree line, looking for him in the shade. He was standing there, right behind the teens, not two feet from Grace and Claire. “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Faith muttered to herself, racing toward the trees, certain she wouldn't make it in time. Running into the center of the kids, Faith grabbed Grace, throwing her into the sunshine. As Claire took a step back, out of Faith's reach, Faith shouted, “Sunlight. Now.”
“Huh?” some guy asked.
“Into the sun now,” Faith shouted, shoving kids out of her way. “Where'd he go?”
Claire took three steps into the meadow, until she was covered in sunlight. “Who?”
Her head darting around, Faith said, “There was a guy here, light brown hair, a scar across his cheek.”
“No way,” a tall beanpole of a guy said.
“He's right,” Claire said, nodding at all the dark heads. “Someone we didn't know would stand out.”
“I just saw him,” Faith said, still scanning the area.
“Are you OK?” Grace asked. “You're as pale as a ghost.”
“Oh, like you've seen a ghost,” a girl scoffed.
“I could have,” Grace said. “My great-aunt Avis...”
“Our great-aunt Avis,” the girl interrupted.
“Faith, who did you see?” Claire asked.
“You're not the sharpest stick, are you Slayer?”
Faith whirled around. Ten feet out, standing in direct sunlight, Kakistos smirked at her, looking as deadly as the night he'd killed her Watcher. “I'm coming for you Slayer.”
She blinked and he was gone.
“Are you all right?” Claire asked.
“I gotta go,” Faith said, almost shouting the words as she raced toward the beach.
Series: Lotus in Muddy Water
Fandom: BtVS
Characters/Pairing: Faith, Wesley
Rating: PG
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.
Warnings/Squicks: None
Summary: Faith starts seeing a vamp who isn't there.
Notes: Thanks for ideas on what Wesley might wear to a picnic go out to obiwahn, quoshara, and Kivrin. Sadly he never made it to the picnic; I tried writing him there at least twice, but it just wasn't working.
Wesley, sitting in the living room, waited while the girls got ready for the picnic, a process that seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. After all he'd managed to prepare himself in less than half an hour. Donning his baby blue shirt, the one that went so well with his cream colored summer suit, had reminded him of his mother and last Christmas when she'd given it to him. Dressing casually had taken less time than putting on his usual Watcher's suit and he'd started wondering if he could forgo the formality of his usual outfits when Aidan stepped into the room. As the man's appearance reminded him of Grace's comment at breakfast, when she'd called him Aidan's evil twin, Wesley pinched his lips together. When he'd asked her to explain, she'd muttered something about their color schemes, how Aidan's silver hair and dark clothes contrasted with Wesley's dark hair and pale suit. He didn't see how that made him evil. If anything they were mirror images of each other or more along the lines of those tricks with photographic film that switched colors to their opposites.
“Do you have a minute? I've got a question,” Aidan said.
Glancing toward the stairs that led to the bedrooms where the girls were getting ready, Wesley said, “Apparently I have a good number of minutes. We were supposed to have left ten minutes ago, but Claire, Grace, and Faith haven't even made it downstairs yet. I'm not sure what's taking them so long. I'd thought they were appropriately dressed this morning.”
“Good,” Aidan said. “My study.” Leading the way, Aidan added, “I understand you're thesis was on daemoniogenesis?”
Wesley, who'd been wondering why people seemed to ignore half of everything he said, glanced up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Yes,” he agreed, a hint of a smile replacing the frown he hadn't been able to keep at bay as he'd sat there waiting. “My focus was on the creation of werewolves. While some of the more modern researchers, such as Collins, believe the transformation is caused by purely physical, that is chemical, changes in the blood, I agree with DeRosa that there is a more mystical component, the prima daemoni, a pure demonic energy, that is the true cause of the changes. If we could only learn more of it's nature, werewolves might not need to change at all. The curse could be completely negated.”
“I'm more interested in the Hellborn.”
Wesley, who'd been leaning forward, engaged in the discussion, sat back. “But that's nothing more than a myth.”
“I've been told DeRosa's On Demons devotes three chapters to the Hellborn with at least two dozen pages theorizing how daemonion can be made human again.”
“But, but Evans discounted those theories over fifty years ago,” Wesley said.
Aidan waved that aside. “Evans was an idiot. What do you recall of DeRosa's theories?”
Before Wesley could reply, there was a short knock on the door and then Brigit stepped in. “Sorry for the interruption, but if you want to come to the picnic, we need to go now before Grace decides to change again.”
“He's busy,” Aidan said, his voice sounding so firm that Wesley was surprised when Brigit said his name and missed her question.
“What?” Wesley asked.
“I said are you sure you'd rather stay here?” Brigit replied.
Wesley glanced around the book filled room. “Actually, yes,” he said, trying to sound apologetic. “I so rarely get an opportunity to discuss my thesis, you see.”
“The Hellborn?” Brigit asked.
“Well, they weren't my specific focus, but I do have a good understanding of them. How did you know?”
While Brigit was shutting, not replying to Wesley's question, Aidan said, “Back to those theories, I don't suppose you took any notes?”
* * *
Brigit's Subaru inched along, stuck in the long line of traffic. “Geez,” Faith complained. “I think we could have walked faster.”
Brigit shrugged. “We could park it here, right in the middle of the road, and hope the car doesn't get towed. Of course that means you'd have to carry the cooler all the way to the beach.”
“We could always catch another ride back,” Grace chimed.
“Sure,” Brigit agreed. “Aunt Milly has that boat of a car. I'm sure she'd be happy to give you a lift in return for a bit of light work around the house. She's been saying her curtains need washing, and while you're there I'm sure her tub needs to be scrubbed out. You know she hasn't been able to clean properly since she started needing that walker.”
“That's not funny. Mom had me there all day last week,” Grace complained as Claire laughed.
“Hey,” Faith said as Brigit pulled into the left lane, moving around the line of cars exiting for the beach. “Shouldn't we be heading that way?”
“No,” Grace said. “That's Higsbee beach. We're down the road, but we've got dune buggies if you want to check out Higsbee later.”
“Higsbee is the main town beach, over by the boardwalk,” Brigit added. “The kids go back and forth all day.”
“Hey! I'm not a kid,” Grace called out, complaining from the back seat.
Five minutes later, Brigit made a right, driving onto a two lane road where two-storied houses with weathered paint jobs were scattered to each side. Nodding at a group of parked cars, about two or three dozen, Brigit said, “That's where I'll be parking after I've dropped you off.”
Less than a minute later the road ended in a large outcropping of rocks. A stretch of sand led to the beach where five dune buggies sat.
To the right, in the shade made by a canopy of trees that had been planted in a semi-circle with an open meadow in the middle were eight picnic tables, grouped in sets of two. Three grills were set up at the far end with a dozen men gathered around. The rest of the adults mostly stayed in the shade, where it was slightly cooler, while kids ran around in the meadow, aiming water guns at each other. Grace and Claire headed straight for the group of teens, hanging out as close to the beach as they could while still protected by the shade trees.
Two young men, detaching themselves from one of the closer picnic tables, raced each other over, making a game of who was the fastest. As they ran in, slowing down at they approached the car, Faith had to look up. “Damn you're tall.”
As they laughed, Brigit introduced them as her cousins. Faith could see the resemblance; there was something in their faces that looked alike and they each shared Brigit's dark hair although Tom's was short, cut in a windswept style that probably took an hour to achieve, while Dave's hair hung down to his shoulders in soft waves. As the guys picked up the cooler, the one Faith had carried by herself, grunting at the weight, each taking one end, Brigit said, “They think heavy lifting impresses the girls.”
“No,” Dave, the taller of the two said, “we think Grandma Lucy will kick our butts if we don't drag your heavy ass cooler over to the tables.”
“What the hell?” Tom asked. “You fill this up with bricks?”
“Ha, ha. If you didn't eat so much, I wouldn't have to make so much,” Brigit replied.
“Of course we're going to finish it off. Better than lugging it back.”
Rolling her eyes, Brigit asked Faith, “Are you coming back with me to park the car?”
Faith smiled at Brigit's cousins. “I think I can make do with the boys.”
Blushing, Tom glanced back toward the table they'd just come from, but Dave smiled at Faith. As the two men started carrying the cooler toward the tables, Faith stood there, her eyes glued on the guys, her head tilted to one side, smiling as she said, “Oh Momma.”
Brigit, coming round Faith's side, bumped their hips together. “Their brains are up a little higher up than that.”
“Are you sure?” Faith asked, “Because most guys I've met have their brains in their dicks.”
Skipping backward to the car, Brigit added, “Try not to have too much fun.”
“No such thing,” Faith shouted back.
As the car pulled off, scattering gravel behind, a voice called out, echoing her name around her, “Faith. Faith. Faith.” It was a voice that belonged in darkness.
Shifting into a fighting stance, Faith scanned the tree line, looking for him in the shade. He was standing there, right behind the teens, not two feet from Grace and Claire. “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Faith muttered to herself, racing toward the trees, certain she wouldn't make it in time. Running into the center of the kids, Faith grabbed Grace, throwing her into the sunshine. As Claire took a step back, out of Faith's reach, Faith shouted, “Sunlight. Now.”
“Huh?” some guy asked.
“Into the sun now,” Faith shouted, shoving kids out of her way. “Where'd he go?”
Claire took three steps into the meadow, until she was covered in sunlight. “Who?”
Her head darting around, Faith said, “There was a guy here, light brown hair, a scar across his cheek.”
“No way,” a tall beanpole of a guy said.
“He's right,” Claire said, nodding at all the dark heads. “Someone we didn't know would stand out.”
“I just saw him,” Faith said, still scanning the area.
“Are you OK?” Grace asked. “You're as pale as a ghost.”
“Oh, like you've seen a ghost,” a girl scoffed.
“I could have,” Grace said. “My great-aunt Avis...”
“Our great-aunt Avis,” the girl interrupted.
“Faith, who did you see?” Claire asked.
“You're not the sharpest stick, are you Slayer?”
Faith whirled around. Ten feet out, standing in direct sunlight, Kakistos smirked at her, looking as deadly as the night he'd killed her Watcher. “I'm coming for you Slayer.”
She blinked and he was gone.
“Are you all right?” Claire asked.
“I gotta go,” Faith said, almost shouting the words as she raced toward the beach.
no subject
I had the worst time writing this story. It just didn't go where I had planned so I kept rewriting it, trying to get it to bend to my will. I gave up on that and gave it a long break, and now I'm back. I've got most of the penultimate draft written, but I do have a few sections to write still.
The section I was thinking through today (that still needs to be written) has gotten much longer than I anticipated, before I'd even got to the main point of the scene, although it is adding subtle (I hope!) bits of exposition. I'm hoping to post about once a week with this story.