Spike/Ursula Fic: "The Cinnamon Hippo."
Title: The Cinnamon Hippo.
Author: fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/OC
Warnings: G. This is total fluff-fic. :D
Summary: This ficlet is for eilowyn who wanted a little interlude between Spike and my OC Ursula (from my still-not-finished comic- London Calling), so I decided to write how the two met.
The Cinnamon Hippo.
There was nothing quite as refreshing as preparing for a long night alone by stopping by one's local video rental store for a B-movie and junk food, unless, of course, one is already exhausted after a night of patrolling alleyways across London and doesn't fancy pushing through idiotic teenagers making out in the aisles while trying to scavenge for a half-way decent movie.
"Why are the floors always damned sticky in these places?" Spike thought to himself; but as he watched a kid try to hide his gum beneath a video shelf only to have it fall to the linoleum, the vampire had his answer.
The selection of titles at Press Play Video was pretty piss-poor, in Spike's opinion. He couldn't figure out why he kept coming in the shop every few days. Reasoning that it was the only rental place close to his rent-by-the-week flat, he settled on convenience. In all honesty, he had first stepped into the shop a month earlier believing it to be an adult bookstore as the logo on its marquee was a silhouette of a woman with her legs provocatively splayed with a "play" button in a very suggestive location. Turned out that it was just a normal shop with a very filthy logo. Still, he kept coming back for more VHS boxes mouldering in scratched plastic cases.
After a once-round the shop, Spike had narrowed down his choices to Clash of the Titans or Clue.
"Having deep thoughts, luv?" one of the shop-gals waved at him from behind the tall check-out counter.
It took Spike a moment to remember her name- Ursula, the one with dirty-blonde-leaning-towards-auburn hair. She worked on the Monday/Wednesday/Friday/weekend schedule along with a brunette girl named Trix. Spike had sort of gotten acquainted with them during his many visits to their store. They were a friendly bunch and sometimes let him get away with not paying late fees.
Ursula was leaning on her elbows on the counter as he walked up, holding the two VHS boxes. To prevent theft, the whole counter area was raised to about bust level, which provided some pleasant eyecandy all things considered.
"Ah, both excellent choices," she smiled, "but are you more in the mood for the unintentionally hilarious or the intentional sort?"
"They've both got great actors making fools of themselves," Spike set the boxes down on the yellowed formica, quirking a brow when he got an eyeful down the young woman's tank top when she leaned forward over the bust-height countertop to scan the labels on the plastic cases for each movie.
Ursula brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "Yeah, but only one has Tim Curry calling communism a red herring. You know there's only one way to solve this."
"You're going to make me get both, aren't you?" Spike sighed good-naturedly.
"Don't be silly," Ursula grinned, "I'm going to make you get both and a package of Red Vines to pay for my indispensable cinema advice."
"I'm startin' to think that you make all your bloody commissions off me," he shook his head, handing her his rental card, which she slipped into her cleavage while she typed in his account information into the computer.
Rolling her eyes, she replied, "Yeah, that commish on a bag of sweets is helping me live the high life." She smacked the side of the ancient desktop computer, "Stupid ruddy dial-up."
"You're getting boob-sweat on his card," Trix said huffily as she took the VHS boxes behind the counter to get the corresponding tapes from the lock-cabinet.
Ursula looked down and blushed, quickly handing Spike's card back to him, "Oh, sorry. It's force of habit. I sort of do that with my debit... at the grocery... and when I'm ordering things online."
"No harm done," Spike watched her clack away on the keyboard.
Her nail polish was a rather hideous shade of sea foam green, but something about it suited her. She had a very pleasant, pretty face and big grey doe eyes, and the ugly nail varnish and her need to give unwarranted movie advice gave her a kitschy kind of charm.
"It'll be ten even," she said bagging up his videos and licorice.
"Do you get off of work soon?"
The words had left Spike's mouth before he could stop them, and he was worried that she would think he was some sort of creeper.
"I mean," he stammered, not really sure how to ask someone out, having failed miserably the last few times he tried, "would you like to get a drink with me? Not necessarily now, of course, if you didn't want to-"
"I'm off from work right now," Ursula responded enthusiastically, hopping out-of-sight for a moment behind the counter, coming around to the latched swing-door.
Trix rapped a fist on the counter, "You better not be thinking of leaving me with the rest of your shift."
Ursula was grabbing her jacket, "Consider it a big I-owe-ya."
Pushing open the door separating the raised counter area and the main shop, Spike got his first look at what Ursula looked like below her bust-line- her visibly pregnant tummy tightly confined in the tank top featuring a cartoon hippo eating a cupcake with the words "The Cinnamon Hippo" emblazoned on it.
Spike took a step back, "Oh... That's..."
He watched her expression go from ecstatic to crestfallen.
"It's okay," Ursula tried to force a casual smile, "I understand."
"Wait, no," Spike stopped her from returning behind the counter, "I just was surprised; I thought we'd go grab drinks, but I guess pints are out of the question?"
She nodded, "I can drink other things. A lot of other things, in fact. We probably like the same kinds of non-alcoholic drinkable things."
Spike held his arm for her after she'd zipped her jacket closed with a little difficulty getting it over her baby-bump. Once he was close to him, Spike could feel the strong heartbeats of both Ursula and the bun in her oven. There was something warm and inviting about having her on his arm as they walked out of the video shop.
"Do you like hot chocolate? There's a nice place 'round the corner that's pretty good," he glanced over, finding that he rather enjoyed that Ursula was nearly his exact height.
"That depends," Ursula smiled, leaning her head towards his shoulder, "Will there be little marshmallows?"
Author: fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/OC
Warnings: G. This is total fluff-fic. :D
Summary: This ficlet is for eilowyn who wanted a little interlude between Spike and my OC Ursula (from my still-not-finished comic- London Calling), so I decided to write how the two met.
The Cinnamon Hippo.
There was nothing quite as refreshing as preparing for a long night alone by stopping by one's local video rental store for a B-movie and junk food, unless, of course, one is already exhausted after a night of patrolling alleyways across London and doesn't fancy pushing through idiotic teenagers making out in the aisles while trying to scavenge for a half-way decent movie.
"Why are the floors always damned sticky in these places?" Spike thought to himself; but as he watched a kid try to hide his gum beneath a video shelf only to have it fall to the linoleum, the vampire had his answer.
The selection of titles at Press Play Video was pretty piss-poor, in Spike's opinion. He couldn't figure out why he kept coming in the shop every few days. Reasoning that it was the only rental place close to his rent-by-the-week flat, he settled on convenience. In all honesty, he had first stepped into the shop a month earlier believing it to be an adult bookstore as the logo on its marquee was a silhouette of a woman with her legs provocatively splayed with a "play" button in a very suggestive location. Turned out that it was just a normal shop with a very filthy logo. Still, he kept coming back for more VHS boxes mouldering in scratched plastic cases.
After a once-round the shop, Spike had narrowed down his choices to Clash of the Titans or Clue.
"Having deep thoughts, luv?" one of the shop-gals waved at him from behind the tall check-out counter.
It took Spike a moment to remember her name- Ursula, the one with dirty-blonde-leaning-towards-auburn hair. She worked on the Monday/Wednesday/Friday/weekend schedule along with a brunette girl named Trix. Spike had sort of gotten acquainted with them during his many visits to their store. They were a friendly bunch and sometimes let him get away with not paying late fees.
Ursula was leaning on her elbows on the counter as he walked up, holding the two VHS boxes. To prevent theft, the whole counter area was raised to about bust level, which provided some pleasant eyecandy all things considered.
"Ah, both excellent choices," she smiled, "but are you more in the mood for the unintentionally hilarious or the intentional sort?"
"They've both got great actors making fools of themselves," Spike set the boxes down on the yellowed formica, quirking a brow when he got an eyeful down the young woman's tank top when she leaned forward over the bust-height countertop to scan the labels on the plastic cases for each movie.
Ursula brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "Yeah, but only one has Tim Curry calling communism a red herring. You know there's only one way to solve this."
"You're going to make me get both, aren't you?" Spike sighed good-naturedly.
"Don't be silly," Ursula grinned, "I'm going to make you get both and a package of Red Vines to pay for my indispensable cinema advice."
"I'm startin' to think that you make all your bloody commissions off me," he shook his head, handing her his rental card, which she slipped into her cleavage while she typed in his account information into the computer.
Rolling her eyes, she replied, "Yeah, that commish on a bag of sweets is helping me live the high life." She smacked the side of the ancient desktop computer, "Stupid ruddy dial-up."
"You're getting boob-sweat on his card," Trix said huffily as she took the VHS boxes behind the counter to get the corresponding tapes from the lock-cabinet.
Ursula looked down and blushed, quickly handing Spike's card back to him, "Oh, sorry. It's force of habit. I sort of do that with my debit... at the grocery... and when I'm ordering things online."
"No harm done," Spike watched her clack away on the keyboard.
Her nail polish was a rather hideous shade of sea foam green, but something about it suited her. She had a very pleasant, pretty face and big grey doe eyes, and the ugly nail varnish and her need to give unwarranted movie advice gave her a kitschy kind of charm.
"It'll be ten even," she said bagging up his videos and licorice.
"Do you get off of work soon?"
The words had left Spike's mouth before he could stop them, and he was worried that she would think he was some sort of creeper.
"I mean," he stammered, not really sure how to ask someone out, having failed miserably the last few times he tried, "would you like to get a drink with me? Not necessarily now, of course, if you didn't want to-"
"I'm off from work right now," Ursula responded enthusiastically, hopping out-of-sight for a moment behind the counter, coming around to the latched swing-door.
Trix rapped a fist on the counter, "You better not be thinking of leaving me with the rest of your shift."
Ursula was grabbing her jacket, "Consider it a big I-owe-ya."
Pushing open the door separating the raised counter area and the main shop, Spike got his first look at what Ursula looked like below her bust-line- her visibly pregnant tummy tightly confined in the tank top featuring a cartoon hippo eating a cupcake with the words "The Cinnamon Hippo" emblazoned on it.
Spike took a step back, "Oh... That's..."
He watched her expression go from ecstatic to crestfallen.
"It's okay," Ursula tried to force a casual smile, "I understand."
"Wait, no," Spike stopped her from returning behind the counter, "I just was surprised; I thought we'd go grab drinks, but I guess pints are out of the question?"
She nodded, "I can drink other things. A lot of other things, in fact. We probably like the same kinds of non-alcoholic drinkable things."
Spike held his arm for her after she'd zipped her jacket closed with a little difficulty getting it over her baby-bump. Once he was close to him, Spike could feel the strong heartbeats of both Ursula and the bun in her oven. There was something warm and inviting about having her on his arm as they walked out of the video shop.
"Do you like hot chocolate? There's a nice place 'round the corner that's pretty good," he glanced over, finding that he rather enjoyed that Ursula was nearly his exact height.
"That depends," Ursula smiled, leaning her head towards his shoulder, "Will there be little marshmallows?"