"Wrecked" fic, 2 of 2
Feb. 28th, 2007 11:59 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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lateseasonloveTitle: And So This is Christmas
Characters: Buffy, Dawn, Spike
Rating: PG-13, for innuendo
Timing: After "Wrecked," which was apparantly right before Christmas during S6. Warning: Shameless happification imposed here.
Summary: It was so much easier to just sit back and let it be Christmas. Just for a half-hour.
Maybe there was a book for this. A book about trying to parent your little sister, who wasn’t that little really, and wanted to hang out with undead ill-influences. Or something. Some sayings. Like that one, give them an inch…
Because it was dark. Really dark. Killed two vamps on the way over dark. And Dawn? Not so much home.
At least there would be no Hunt for the Missing Sister this time around. Nope. She was probably still hanging out with the rude, crude, horrible, evil undead in the third crypt on the left.
The door squeaked open slowly. Spike never came out, and certainly not so carefully. God. Dawn. What if she was hurt? What if there had been another kidnapping? She reached back for her stake, coiled up. Just one more step…
She sprang, pinned whatever it was against the wall. “Christ almighty, Slayer,” it hollered, sliding an arm down around her. “Up for a second tumble if you are, luv, but I was just trying to stop you from making your usual charming entrance.”
“What!” Ew. Just, ew. First she was just another slayer to fuck, and now she was a second tumble and ewww. Maybe this was a stake first, questions later kind of thing.
A raised eyebrow, and he was kinda sneering at her, too. “The stomping, the slamming.” He reached down, fished a lighter out of the front pocket of his jeans. So not looking at it. “You’ll wake kid sis.”
Dawn. Asleep. Buffy just stood there, kind of blinking at him. Should be mad. Should be parental.
“Give the poor kid a break, slayer.” He reached an arm back behind his head. Oh, not fair. It made her look at the lines of him, remember how they’d bend and what they felt like doing it. Think Dawn thoughts. “Think she’s been staying up nights making a present for you.”
A good “mom” would be mad anyway. Rules are rules. But if she was asleep… Probably hadn’t meant to get home so late. Accidents happen, right? “Ok.”
Spike snorted, and then his face… melted. Ok, melted was the wrong word. Nothing out of Indiana Jones here. Still, faces weren’t supposed to do this. It was like everything hard in it got soft, right down to the color of his eyes. “Speaking of presents…”
“Yeah.” All of a sudden it was kinda hard to look at him. Stupid swingy moods, with your… swinging. “I was gonna pop by this evening.”
“Yeah?” He sounded eager. Maybe hopeful? God, this would be easier if she was looking at him. But then she’d have to, you know, look at him.
“Yeah. I thought I might hear about that respectable job.”
“’s Willie. Giving me a few drinks and a buck or two a night to get rid of the bodies ‘round his place.” Wait. Bodies! “Demon bodies, Slayer.”
Deep breaths, Buffy. You’re gonna get wrinkles if you don’t stop making that face. “Not that I mind if demons lend me a helping hand. It’s just… Respectable. Willy. Miles apart.”
“What you got against poor ol’ Willie? Not a bad bloke, once you get past the sneaking and the sniveling.”
Grech. It still creeped her out to think of it. “He asked to take naked pictures once. He wanted to turn me into Playdemon Playmate of the Year.”
His tongue curled. “You’d be a helluva pinup.” Oh no. The face. He was making that face. “Lighten your slaying load, too.” And all of a sudden he was close, too close. “Cuz naturally I’d have to kill any bloke who bought one.”
It almost hurt, to laugh this hard. Her ribs weren’t used to it, but she couldn’t stop, especially with Spike’s Official Face of Injured Dignity. “That was the worst come-on ever.”
An injured huff. “You’ll wake the niblet.”
And the sort-of parental responsibilities come crashing back down. “Maybe I should.”
“Bollocks. Poor kid’s worn out, and my crypt’s comfy enough.”
Dumb sighs. They made everything feel so heavy. “I kinda doubt she’s done. her homework.”
Spike sighed, too. Since when did he sigh? “I s’pose I’m to be the bad guy, too.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the winner and still champion there.”
“Yeah, most teens wear themselves out makin' pretties for the oppressor."
Another stupid sigh. Yep, here comes bad-guy Buffy. Just when things were going so good with Dawn, too. Spike looked like he was gonna do that thing, with the half hug, any second and she just wasn’t up to it. Too confusing, and hey. Still holding onto the mad, here. Buffy dodged him, ducked into the crypt. Dawn was splayed out all over the chair, one leg over an arm rest, long arms flung out wide. Too bad, almost, to wake her up – at least without getting a picture. This was definite blackmail material. Still, had to be done. Buffy grabbed one shoulder – when did Dawn get so bony?- and gave a little shake. Dawn blinked slowly, a cute little-girl grin growing on her face.
Pop! Up, faster than any vamp. “Buffy, I didn’t mean it, I swear, I was just tired and…”
“It’s ok, Dawnie.” The little hairs on her neck were standing up. So weird, doing this with Spike watching. She smoothes a hand over her sister’s hair. “These things happen.” A grin, a bounce. “But they better not happen often.” There. Good use of the Stern Voice. And the Dawn-smile was still going strong. Maybe this whole bad guy thing could be sidestepped.
Geez, Dawn was tall. Her stretch was at least two Buffys long. “Man. I think I slept through the Grinch.”
“Nah.” How did someone with hair like Spike’s sneak up on you like that? “It only started a couple minutes ago.”
Oh no. There they were. The Dawn Eyes. The big, pleading “I’m Young and Vulnerable and In Your Care” eyes. Worse, the Melty Spike Eyes were launching a joint offensive.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to be here. Maybe she ought to yell at Spike, and be mad, and march Dawn home and make her do her homework. But it was so much easier to just sit back and let it be Christmas. Just for a half-hour.
“OK.” And then there was the life-threatening experience of the Dawn Hug – she was way too tall to jump up in your lap like that still. Spike was fiddling with the tv, and pretty soon the two of them were down on the floor in front of the couch, singing along with Boris Karloff and arguing about something or other.
It was wrong, maybe, to hang around here. But really? Not so bad.
Characters: Buffy, Dawn, Spike
Rating: PG-13, for innuendo
Timing: After "Wrecked," which was apparantly right before Christmas during S6. Warning: Shameless happification imposed here.
Summary: It was so much easier to just sit back and let it be Christmas. Just for a half-hour.
Maybe there was a book for this. A book about trying to parent your little sister, who wasn’t that little really, and wanted to hang out with undead ill-influences. Or something. Some sayings. Like that one, give them an inch…
Because it was dark. Really dark. Killed two vamps on the way over dark. And Dawn? Not so much home.
At least there would be no Hunt for the Missing Sister this time around. Nope. She was probably still hanging out with the rude, crude, horrible, evil undead in the third crypt on the left.
The door squeaked open slowly. Spike never came out, and certainly not so carefully. God. Dawn. What if she was hurt? What if there had been another kidnapping? She reached back for her stake, coiled up. Just one more step…
She sprang, pinned whatever it was against the wall. “Christ almighty, Slayer,” it hollered, sliding an arm down around her. “Up for a second tumble if you are, luv, but I was just trying to stop you from making your usual charming entrance.”
“What!” Ew. Just, ew. First she was just another slayer to fuck, and now she was a second tumble and ewww. Maybe this was a stake first, questions later kind of thing.
A raised eyebrow, and he was kinda sneering at her, too. “The stomping, the slamming.” He reached down, fished a lighter out of the front pocket of his jeans. So not looking at it. “You’ll wake kid sis.”
Dawn. Asleep. Buffy just stood there, kind of blinking at him. Should be mad. Should be parental.
“Give the poor kid a break, slayer.” He reached an arm back behind his head. Oh, not fair. It made her look at the lines of him, remember how they’d bend and what they felt like doing it. Think Dawn thoughts. “Think she’s been staying up nights making a present for you.”
A good “mom” would be mad anyway. Rules are rules. But if she was asleep… Probably hadn’t meant to get home so late. Accidents happen, right? “Ok.”
Spike snorted, and then his face… melted. Ok, melted was the wrong word. Nothing out of Indiana Jones here. Still, faces weren’t supposed to do this. It was like everything hard in it got soft, right down to the color of his eyes. “Speaking of presents…”
“Yeah.” All of a sudden it was kinda hard to look at him. Stupid swingy moods, with your… swinging. “I was gonna pop by this evening.”
“Yeah?” He sounded eager. Maybe hopeful? God, this would be easier if she was looking at him. But then she’d have to, you know, look at him.
“Yeah. I thought I might hear about that respectable job.”
“’s Willie. Giving me a few drinks and a buck or two a night to get rid of the bodies ‘round his place.” Wait. Bodies! “Demon bodies, Slayer.”
Deep breaths, Buffy. You’re gonna get wrinkles if you don’t stop making that face. “Not that I mind if demons lend me a helping hand. It’s just… Respectable. Willy. Miles apart.”
“What you got against poor ol’ Willie? Not a bad bloke, once you get past the sneaking and the sniveling.”
Grech. It still creeped her out to think of it. “He asked to take naked pictures once. He wanted to turn me into Playdemon Playmate of the Year.”
His tongue curled. “You’d be a helluva pinup.” Oh no. The face. He was making that face. “Lighten your slaying load, too.” And all of a sudden he was close, too close. “Cuz naturally I’d have to kill any bloke who bought one.”
It almost hurt, to laugh this hard. Her ribs weren’t used to it, but she couldn’t stop, especially with Spike’s Official Face of Injured Dignity. “That was the worst come-on ever.”
An injured huff. “You’ll wake the niblet.”
And the sort-of parental responsibilities come crashing back down. “Maybe I should.”
“Bollocks. Poor kid’s worn out, and my crypt’s comfy enough.”
Dumb sighs. They made everything feel so heavy. “I kinda doubt she’s done. her homework.”
Spike sighed, too. Since when did he sigh? “I s’pose I’m to be the bad guy, too.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the winner and still champion there.”
“Yeah, most teens wear themselves out makin' pretties for the oppressor."
Another stupid sigh. Yep, here comes bad-guy Buffy. Just when things were going so good with Dawn, too. Spike looked like he was gonna do that thing, with the half hug, any second and she just wasn’t up to it. Too confusing, and hey. Still holding onto the mad, here. Buffy dodged him, ducked into the crypt. Dawn was splayed out all over the chair, one leg over an arm rest, long arms flung out wide. Too bad, almost, to wake her up – at least without getting a picture. This was definite blackmail material. Still, had to be done. Buffy grabbed one shoulder – when did Dawn get so bony?- and gave a little shake. Dawn blinked slowly, a cute little-girl grin growing on her face.
Pop! Up, faster than any vamp. “Buffy, I didn’t mean it, I swear, I was just tired and…”
“It’s ok, Dawnie.” The little hairs on her neck were standing up. So weird, doing this with Spike watching. She smoothes a hand over her sister’s hair. “These things happen.” A grin, a bounce. “But they better not happen often.” There. Good use of the Stern Voice. And the Dawn-smile was still going strong. Maybe this whole bad guy thing could be sidestepped.
Geez, Dawn was tall. Her stretch was at least two Buffys long. “Man. I think I slept through the Grinch.”
“Nah.” How did someone with hair like Spike’s sneak up on you like that? “It only started a couple minutes ago.”
Oh no. There they were. The Dawn Eyes. The big, pleading “I’m Young and Vulnerable and In Your Care” eyes. Worse, the Melty Spike Eyes were launching a joint offensive.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to be here. Maybe she ought to yell at Spike, and be mad, and march Dawn home and make her do her homework. But it was so much easier to just sit back and let it be Christmas. Just for a half-hour.
“OK.” And then there was the life-threatening experience of the Dawn Hug – she was way too tall to jump up in your lap like that still. Spike was fiddling with the tv, and pretty soon the two of them were down on the floor in front of the couch, singing along with Boris Karloff and arguing about something or other.
It was wrong, maybe, to hang around here. But really? Not so bad.
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 06:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 11:43 am (UTC)His tongue curled. “You’d be a helluva pinup.” Oh no. The face. He was making that face. “Lighten your slaying load, too.” And all of a sudden he was close, too close. “Cuz naturally I’d have to kill any bloke who bought one.”
It almost hurt, to laugh this hard. Her ribs weren’t used to it, but she couldn’t stop, especially with Spike’s Official Face of Injured Dignity. “That was the worst come-on ever.”
Hee! Very sweet.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 09:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 12:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 06:21 pm (UTC)Hee!
I loved this when i read it before; it's nice to have a good excuse for a re-read.
And how can anyone not love the mental picture of Spike and Dawn singing the Grinch theme song? :D
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:46 am (UTC)*snicker* Would that I had art skill, because it's a fun mental picture indeed!
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Date: 2007-03-08 04:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 08:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 01:34 am (UTC)Oh yes. Very nice.
Lovely fluffy - just suits my mood tonight.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 06:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:53 am (UTC)