The Office/BtVS: Embraced or Subsumed (Dwight)
annakovsky and kyrafic organized festschrift. I was given the prompt, Buffy crossover: The Schrutes have known about Slayers for a long time.
Title: Embraced or Subsumed
Author: voleuse
Fandoms: The Office/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character: Dwight Schrute
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: In his 150-year-old prose there is only one word you might recognize as archaic.
Notes: Set after BtVS S7 and The Office 3.16
The Schrute family has known about vampires for a while, so when Dwight knocked Jim over in the parking lot and poured holy water down his throat, it was a little disappointing when Jim only choked for a minute before shoving Dwight away, yelling, "What is wrong with you?"
Dwight propped himself up on his elbows, then yanked a cross out from his pocket. "I knew that woman wasn't a legitimate nun!"
Jim stared at Dwight for a minute, then reached out, deliberately wrapped his fingers around the cross. "I'm glad you didn't try stabbing me first."
For a second, Dwight stared at the way the edges of the wood bit into Jim's skin, but he didn't detect any smoke. He pursed his lips, shifted and felt the stake tucked into his belt, poking against his ribs.
"Don't be ridiculous, Jim," he said. "That would be murder."
*
One morning, the heel on one of Kelly's shoes broke. She stumbled as she walked past Dwight in the break room, and when she put her arms out to steady herself, her palm went through door with a sudden smash.
The room went silent as Kelly pulled her hand back, shook it with a frown. "Freaky," she finally declared, and then tossed her shoes in the trash.
That night, as Dwight closed up the office, he tried punching the opposite side of the door.
Luckily, he kept a first aid kit in the bottom drawer of his desk, because three fingers ended up needing a splint.
*
He cornered Creed in the warehouse the next morning, turned his back to the room in order to keep the others from reading his lips. "We have a situation."
Creed's eyes darted back and forth, and he put a hand to his left jacket pocket. "Whatever Mary Beth said is a lie. That drawer was empty when I found it."
Dwight blinked. "I do not know who Mary Beth is." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I believe a new player has been chosen," he muttered.
Something flickered in Creed's eyes, a shuttering of black, white, black before Dwight could properly quantify it. "Chosen," he whispered, then he shook his head. Patted his right hip, then his left jacket pocket again. "Not my department," he announced. He turned his back, kicked a barrel of shredded paper and peered inside.
Dwight sighed, and left Creed to his foraging.
*
At night, he watched Angela braid her hair back, watched her hesitate before she began to say her prayers. When she was done, she slid under the blanket on her side of the bed, and she began to read her Bible.
He touched her shoulder, and she spoke aloud, finger tracing the onion-skin paper as she recited the story of Eden.
When she finished, Dwight folded his hands together. "They have the story wrong," he said.
She scowled at him, and turned her shoulder.
"There's something you should know," he tried, again.
"Good night, Dwight," she interrupted.
Dwight sighed, and checked the ward on his window before he switched off the lights.
###
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Jane Hirshfield's Poe: An Essay (I). Link courtesy of breathe_poetry.
Linked on festschrift.
Title: Embraced or Subsumed
Author: voleuse
Fandoms: The Office/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character: Dwight Schrute
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: In his 150-year-old prose there is only one word you might recognize as archaic.
Notes: Set after BtVS S7 and The Office 3.16
The Schrute family has known about vampires for a while, so when Dwight knocked Jim over in the parking lot and poured holy water down his throat, it was a little disappointing when Jim only choked for a minute before shoving Dwight away, yelling, "What is wrong with you?"
Dwight propped himself up on his elbows, then yanked a cross out from his pocket. "I knew that woman wasn't a legitimate nun!"
Jim stared at Dwight for a minute, then reached out, deliberately wrapped his fingers around the cross. "I'm glad you didn't try stabbing me first."
For a second, Dwight stared at the way the edges of the wood bit into Jim's skin, but he didn't detect any smoke. He pursed his lips, shifted and felt the stake tucked into his belt, poking against his ribs.
"Don't be ridiculous, Jim," he said. "That would be murder."
*
One morning, the heel on one of Kelly's shoes broke. She stumbled as she walked past Dwight in the break room, and when she put her arms out to steady herself, her palm went through door with a sudden smash.
The room went silent as Kelly pulled her hand back, shook it with a frown. "Freaky," she finally declared, and then tossed her shoes in the trash.
That night, as Dwight closed up the office, he tried punching the opposite side of the door.
Luckily, he kept a first aid kit in the bottom drawer of his desk, because three fingers ended up needing a splint.
*
He cornered Creed in the warehouse the next morning, turned his back to the room in order to keep the others from reading his lips. "We have a situation."
Creed's eyes darted back and forth, and he put a hand to his left jacket pocket. "Whatever Mary Beth said is a lie. That drawer was empty when I found it."
Dwight blinked. "I do not know who Mary Beth is." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I believe a new player has been chosen," he muttered.
Something flickered in Creed's eyes, a shuttering of black, white, black before Dwight could properly quantify it. "Chosen," he whispered, then he shook his head. Patted his right hip, then his left jacket pocket again. "Not my department," he announced. He turned his back, kicked a barrel of shredded paper and peered inside.
Dwight sighed, and left Creed to his foraging.
*
At night, he watched Angela braid her hair back, watched her hesitate before she began to say her prayers. When she was done, she slid under the blanket on her side of the bed, and she began to read her Bible.
He touched her shoulder, and she spoke aloud, finger tracing the onion-skin paper as she recited the story of Eden.
When she finished, Dwight folded his hands together. "They have the story wrong," he said.
She scowled at him, and turned her shoulder.
"There's something you should know," he tried, again.
"Good night, Dwight," she interrupted.
Dwight sighed, and checked the ward on his window before he switched off the lights.
###
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Jane Hirshfield's Poe: An Essay (I). Link courtesy of breathe_poetry.
Linked on festschrift.