When Demon Musicmen get the Blues (One shot)
Title: When Demon Musicmen get the Blues
Author: Tabitha
Rating: PG (for talk of violence towards babies)
Word Count: 573
Prompt: 005, Sweet on
still_grrr
Characters/Pairing (if any): Sweet, oc: Sour, oc: Gwen
Author's Note: I got the idea for this when I was waking up so it's half-dream, half-first thought of the morning. So if it's bad - I blame it on that.
The bar was quiet. Just a couple of vamps, a Brachen demon and, of course Sweet and his best friend Sour. Don't make fun of the names though, I doubt you'll last the experience. I was watching this all from the bar of course, I'm Gwen. I'm not a vamp or a demon, just plain old human, but I follow the steampunk lifestyle, so I fit in pretty darn well if you ask me.
Sweet looked lower than the Mayor's belly on graduation day and Sour was, for the first time since I've known the pair, trying to cheer him up. Usually it was the other way around.
"Come on Sweet, somethings wrong, you look depressed." Sour's expression was concerned, well as concerned as his face could allow. I guess the concern mostly shown through his eyes. I know, I'm getting soft, but you work around the underworld long enough you learn they've got feelings too. Well, except Faral demons, they just like to break things.
"We all know where depression leads," Sour's tone was now like that of a mother half-scolding, half-warning her child of the dangers of sex before marriage. "Depression leads to snappy attitudes, long dark brooding nights and the next thing you someone's gonna offer you a human baby in some ceremony and you're gonna refuse." Sour's hand gripped the shot glass in his hand and he shook his finger at Sweet. "And we all know where that leads."
"But she was so pretty." Everything Sweet said sounded musical. Granted I wasn't much with talking about eating babies or Sweet's love of making people combust, but I'm sure if I were a cow in a bar full of people, I wouldn't much like them talking about hamburgers now would I?
"You're pining over the girl?!" Sour threw back his head and slammed the shot glass on the bar. "Another one Gwen, I need to wash that taste out of my mouth."
I walked closer over and picked up the bottle of Dragon.... well, I don't think you want to know what it was, suffice to say - demons love it and it smells gross.
"She was beautiful," Sweet mumbled into his glass as he took another sip. "Just something about her, some weird attraction, almost like I had to have her."
"If I may say," I offered with a kind smile. The two looked at me, they actually were pretty nice to me and liked when I gave them insights into the human perspective of things. Plus, they tipped really well. "The Slayer isn't just a killer of demons and vamps, she's slain quite a few hearts as well."
Sweet waved his hand back and forth with a distinct, "Bah!" He gulped down the rest of his shot and banged it on the table as well. I started to fill it when he put his hand over the glass. "Not her. The younger one."
"Dawn?" I said. See, being the barkeep, you hear a lot about Buffy Summers and her family. Lots of rants and raves. Spike was the worst, that poor thing had such a jones for the Summers girl.
"Yeah." His hand relaxed and slid off the glass. "Dawn. What a queen she would have been."
I guess there's no accounting for demon taste.
Author: Tabitha
Rating: PG (for talk of violence towards babies)
Word Count: 573
Prompt: 005, Sweet on
still_grrr
Characters/Pairing (if any): Sweet, oc: Sour, oc: Gwen
Author's Note: I got the idea for this when I was waking up so it's half-dream, half-first thought of the morning. So if it's bad - I blame it on that.
The bar was quiet. Just a couple of vamps, a Brachen demon and, of course Sweet and his best friend Sour. Don't make fun of the names though, I doubt you'll last the experience. I was watching this all from the bar of course, I'm Gwen. I'm not a vamp or a demon, just plain old human, but I follow the steampunk lifestyle, so I fit in pretty darn well if you ask me.
Sweet looked lower than the Mayor's belly on graduation day and Sour was, for the first time since I've known the pair, trying to cheer him up. Usually it was the other way around.
"Come on Sweet, somethings wrong, you look depressed." Sour's expression was concerned, well as concerned as his face could allow. I guess the concern mostly shown through his eyes. I know, I'm getting soft, but you work around the underworld long enough you learn they've got feelings too. Well, except Faral demons, they just like to break things.
"We all know where depression leads," Sour's tone was now like that of a mother half-scolding, half-warning her child of the dangers of sex before marriage. "Depression leads to snappy attitudes, long dark brooding nights and the next thing you someone's gonna offer you a human baby in some ceremony and you're gonna refuse." Sour's hand gripped the shot glass in his hand and he shook his finger at Sweet. "And we all know where that leads."
"But she was so pretty." Everything Sweet said sounded musical. Granted I wasn't much with talking about eating babies or Sweet's love of making people combust, but I'm sure if I were a cow in a bar full of people, I wouldn't much like them talking about hamburgers now would I?
"You're pining over the girl?!" Sour threw back his head and slammed the shot glass on the bar. "Another one Gwen, I need to wash that taste out of my mouth."
I walked closer over and picked up the bottle of Dragon.... well, I don't think you want to know what it was, suffice to say - demons love it and it smells gross.
"She was beautiful," Sweet mumbled into his glass as he took another sip. "Just something about her, some weird attraction, almost like I had to have her."
"If I may say," I offered with a kind smile. The two looked at me, they actually were pretty nice to me and liked when I gave them insights into the human perspective of things. Plus, they tipped really well. "The Slayer isn't just a killer of demons and vamps, she's slain quite a few hearts as well."
Sweet waved his hand back and forth with a distinct, "Bah!" He gulped down the rest of his shot and banged it on the table as well. I started to fill it when he put his hand over the glass. "Not her. The younger one."
"Dawn?" I said. See, being the barkeep, you hear a lot about Buffy Summers and her family. Lots of rants and raves. Spike was the worst, that poor thing had such a jones for the Summers girl.
"Yeah." His hand relaxed and slid off the glass. "Dawn. What a queen she would have been."
I guess there's no accounting for demon taste.