Plunge. Retract. Plunge. Retract. Plunge. Retract. Incendiary comment. Plunge. Retract. Plunge. Retract. At some point, it was all muscle memory. Buffy Summers was a machine. A well-trained killing machine, but a machine nevertheless. It was exactly the same, night after night. She just did it. Plunge. Retract. Plunge. Retract.
She had killed the last of them. All that was left was a residue of dust on the grass. She didn't want to go back-- the others were preparing for Parent-Teacher night. She didn't want to go and see Xander. Things were still mega-weird after he had told her off . . . all she wanted was a good time. And to make Angel jealous. She couldn't help it; she needed the attention. She was quick to blame it on her father, but she knew that that wasn't the only factor in her attention-hogging nature. And Angel . . . you couldn't get more Romeo and Juliet than that. The Slayer. The vampire. It was sad, in a very Buffy Summers sort of way. That was always how her life had gone. She was destined to be the freak in love with a freak. Prophecy-- ha. She had laughed in the face of prophecy. She had been dead, though, and there was no taking that away from her.
She sat down on a grave marker and sighed heavily. She was all alone now-- completely alone, lost in an emptiness. She wasn't unhappy, though. She just . . . was. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Angel . . . and Xander. Angel, the darkness. Xander, the security. As much as she hated to admit it, she was attracted to both of them. It wasn't fair to anyone-- not her, not Angel, not Xander, and not Willow. She just couldn't help it.
She touched the end of the stake in her hand, and felt it prick her just barely. She felt no pain.
She felt a presence in her head, sort of like a soft whisper preying at the corners of her cobwebbed brain. She stood and turned around. "Oh, come on. You guys could at least try and be inconspicuous. You do know that Billy Idol went out ten years ago, right?"
TBC: Spike
Spike:
Much as he disliked having to even consider it, there was no getting away
from the fact that she was in no fit condition to go out. Princess would
need to remain back at their new little love nest. She would be having fun
soon enough - he was seeing to that.
First things first though... Slayers were no fit prey for sickly girls. Even
the kind that ripped your throat out.
They needed a bit of lively stalking first...
Well of course, he waited until the dust had settled; be it metaphorical or
of a distinctly rather more physical nature. Not that he cared. Just so long
as he was not one.
Oh happy day... This one was a blonde.
All the same, it looked like she knew her stuff and it'd be a shame to see
her dead on the floor. Oh who was he kidding...? That's the reward! Your
silver platter... Your half a six pence.
She also knew the virtue of sarcasm by the sounds of things. At least that
made things half-way interesting.
"Sid Vicious is more my style, love," remarked her foe. The full height of
his figure now stepping from shadows; lighting a cigarette with confidence while doing so. Hands cupped around it to both shield from the wind and savour the flavour. "With the emphasis on 'vicious', I might add... But truth be told, I don't go in for all that cloak and dagger malarkey. I'm more of a let's-disembowel-'em-while-they're-still-standin' kinda' guy."
TBC: Buffy
Buffy Summers.
<<"Sid Vicious is more my style, love," remarked her foe. The full height of
his figure now stepping from shadows; lighting a cigarette with confidence
while doing so. Hands cupped around it to both shield from the wind and
savour the flavour. "With the emphasis on 'vicious', I might add... But
truth be told, I don't go in for all that cloak and dagger malarkey. I'm
more of a let's-disembowel-'em-while-they're-still-standin' kinda' guy.">>
She couldn't help admitting to herself that he was vaguely attractive . . . if you liked the platinum blond, vampire type. Which she didn't. Well, the first half of that, at any rate. The smoking, though . . . she didn't even know they breathed. She was mildly fascinated by that idea-- she had never seen a vampire smoke before, at least not that she had recalled. Mmmm, and leather . . .
Stop it, Buffy, she had to say to herself. It was the need for the bad boy. That was what it was.
"Should I just stake you now, or do we have to do the witticism exchange first?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. He looked wiry, but she could take him-- hands down. In fact, this might even be a little fun.
TBC: Spike
CORDELIA/GILES/XANDER/WILLOW: SCHOOL
Cordelia Chase:
"And which planet did you slip off? Planet loser?" Asked Cordelia, glaring at the guy who'd stood on her foot in his bumbling, three feet tall attempts at a conversation, "Run along."
His cheeks burned and she frowned, shaking her head, "Dork." She recognised him, from school - vaguely. His name was Jonathan, three feet tall of Cleavage-eyeing dorkness. Idiot.
The brunette was standing in the Espresso Pump, getting herself a variety of coffees. Okay, so why she was helping was completely BEYOND her recognition. She didn't even like the self-professed Scooby Gang. But tonight *was* Parents Night, and so far, she'd witnessed a couple of Buffy's 'expeditions' to realise that a... Little Miss Likes to Fight had screwed up to the point of dying and b... Well, wasn't 'a' enough?
"I'll have three regular coffee's and a tea..." Said Cordelia, glancing at the donuts and pointing to a variety of the sugared kind, feeling frivalous. Buffy was out on Slayage duty, leaving the rest of them to fill in for her while she 'gallavanted'...
Now Angel, there was a hottie if she'd ever seen one. Plus, attributes he owned... He had a pulse, was older and therefore smarter, sexier and wiser - and oh God could a brooding guy be sexy. He definitely brooded... He had the eyes for it, and the overhanging forehead. The man was a God... And currently not interested which made Cordelia want to dig her claws in even deeper. He'd also saved her from the dumpster episode last week, when she'd found a body... Or at least parts in the trash outside of school when Creepy Eric and his Creepier friend tried to cut her head off.
Her memory drifted back to that night, to how brave he was... How he'd sacrificed himself to save her and... Damnit, why the hell was she thinking of XANDER HARRIS? So, he'd saved her life, big deal... He wasn't hot in the league that Angel was hot... But... He did have a nice smile and kind eyes and...
*Okay, too, too weird, Cordy.* Thought the brunette, *Next, you're gonna be kissing him. Think of your social status... Your stock would plummet!!!*
That would *so* never happen. Never. Ever. Ever.
"Uh, Miss?"
Her head snapped up and she realised she'd been daydreaming. Of Angel... In total brood mood, damn but brooding guys were sexy. Taking the coffee and the donuts, Cordelia paid for them and gave a bright, 1,000 watt Cordelia Chase smile, before going back to the red corvette outside the Espresso Pump and slipping in it, laying her purchases next to her on the seat. Breaking almost every speeding law in Sunnydale, she went back to the school, armed with goodies for her 'friends'...
Smiling, she entered the library to where Giles, Willow and Xander sat - "Tea for Giles and a jelly donut. Coffee for Xander and Willow and a latté for me..." She set the other donuts down on the bench and hopped up onto the counter, grasping her beverage lightly, "So, what are we doing?"
She was telling herself that she was only helping because they'd helped her and she was... Honour bound or something...
Pretty easy to tell herself that though... Well, she believed it!
"And where's Little Miss Likes To Fight? Still out killing things?"
