On All Suits (PG, four drabbles)
Author Brutti ma buoni
Title On All Suits
Rating PG
Setting season 5 BtVS to season 5 AtS (that last part is AU)
Words 400
Prompt Clubs, Diamonds, Spades, Hearts
First Person, North
I love that I can hurt him and it’s okay. He never comes back scared and questioning my strength, his weakness. He laughs, and urges me on. We pretend we’re enemies, but today we’re teacher and student and I’m not sure which of us is which sometimes.
He’s teaching me weaponry, taunting me with those fangs, running through clubs, quarterstaffs, pikes, anything hand-to-gut and bloody like he likes. Split his lip earlier with a billy club, watched him laugh and lick the blood. Didn’t make my grossed-out face.
I’m, just possibly, teaching him my weaknesses. That should scare me more.
*
Third Person, East
He brought Drusilla diamonds. She always wanted to know their provenance, and he’d tell her, lovingly, expanding on the death of innocents and blood spilled on the sparkling stones.
Now he’s brought the Slayer lesser birthday treasure. Technically, some Swarovski-type sparkly crystal crap that isn’t fit to grace her warrior’s throat. But she’ll want to know how he got it, just as demanding as Dru of old, though wanting to hear quite the opposite. He’s got a tale, today, of shoddy demonic favours, enough to afford this cheap trinket.
Bollocks, of course. He nicked the thing. Vamp’s got his pride.
*
Second Person, South
In the midst of devastation, you’re digging a pit. You’re probably in the wrong place. Whole town went down, and it’s not like you geo-referenced the high school with this in mind. So you may very likely be digging up the schoolyard, or McKinley Street, and nowhere near the Hellmouth.
It’s not important. You’re not really digging to find something. Someone. You’re digging to dig. You’re digging to show you didn’t just walk away and forget. You drove, you begged, you found a spade and ran back here, ignoring your friends.
Because despite all logic, there has to be something left of him.
*
Third Person Plural, West
Their hearts didn’t beat as one, that day in the rain, when the apocalypse and Buffy came to town and they were reunited. But only because Spike’s physical heart was still as dead as ever. In the cavity where his heart didn’t beat, where his soul sat, something leapt, stuttered, redoubled, just as Buffy’s heart did.
This was what had been missing. The fight, back to back in wordless synchrony. The exchange of looks before and after, promising (threatening?) no more silence and caution once the battle was done.
The kiss, at the end, that said they had survived. Together.
Title On All Suits
Rating PG
Setting season 5 BtVS to season 5 AtS (that last part is AU)
Words 400
Prompt Clubs, Diamonds, Spades, Hearts
First Person, North
I love that I can hurt him and it’s okay. He never comes back scared and questioning my strength, his weakness. He laughs, and urges me on. We pretend we’re enemies, but today we’re teacher and student and I’m not sure which of us is which sometimes.
He’s teaching me weaponry, taunting me with those fangs, running through clubs, quarterstaffs, pikes, anything hand-to-gut and bloody like he likes. Split his lip earlier with a billy club, watched him laugh and lick the blood. Didn’t make my grossed-out face.
I’m, just possibly, teaching him my weaknesses. That should scare me more.
*
Third Person, East
He brought Drusilla diamonds. She always wanted to know their provenance, and he’d tell her, lovingly, expanding on the death of innocents and blood spilled on the sparkling stones.
Now he’s brought the Slayer lesser birthday treasure. Technically, some Swarovski-type sparkly crystal crap that isn’t fit to grace her warrior’s throat. But she’ll want to know how he got it, just as demanding as Dru of old, though wanting to hear quite the opposite. He’s got a tale, today, of shoddy demonic favours, enough to afford this cheap trinket.
Bollocks, of course. He nicked the thing. Vamp’s got his pride.
*
Second Person, South
In the midst of devastation, you’re digging a pit. You’re probably in the wrong place. Whole town went down, and it’s not like you geo-referenced the high school with this in mind. So you may very likely be digging up the schoolyard, or McKinley Street, and nowhere near the Hellmouth.
It’s not important. You’re not really digging to find something. Someone. You’re digging to dig. You’re digging to show you didn’t just walk away and forget. You drove, you begged, you found a spade and ran back here, ignoring your friends.
Because despite all logic, there has to be something left of him.
*
Third Person Plural, West
Their hearts didn’t beat as one, that day in the rain, when the apocalypse and Buffy came to town and they were reunited. But only because Spike’s physical heart was still as dead as ever. In the cavity where his heart didn’t beat, where his soul sat, something leapt, stuttered, redoubled, just as Buffy’s heart did.
This was what had been missing. The fight, back to back in wordless synchrony. The exchange of looks before and after, promising (threatening?) no more silence and caution once the battle was done.
The kiss, at the end, that said they had survived. Together.