[fic] Future Sculpts; Watchmen+Buffy; Laurie/Buffy
Title: Future Sculpts
Fandoms: Watchmen, Buffy
Pairing: Laurie/Buffy
Rating: PG?
Warnings: None
Summary: Post-squid. Tomorrow, they'll look for their friends. Today, it's just them.
Originally written 8/8/09 on the KM for the crossover captcha prompt challenge. YES IT'S A CROSSOVER WHAT HAVE I DONE FEEL FREE TO LOSE ALL RESPECT FOR ME NOW. :|
Thick yellow stripes of sunset pour in where the blackout drapes aren't wide enough for the window. The light burns on their bedsheets (it's harder to notice how dingy they are this way) and the bare inside of her thigh. She was leaning up against the headboard, but now she's staring at Laurie.
"You mean to tell me," Buffy says, "that thing wasn't a demon."
Laurie grimaces, tugging at her pinkie toe in discomfort (there's a tiny bruise there, when did she get a bruise?), glad that the bed was shoved up against the wall so she had something to lean against. "Not in the traditional sense."
"Someone made that thing."
It's not a question. The look in her eyes is hard and sharp and confused and all the things Laurie feels about Veidt and it's nice, strangely, to have some outside confirmation that it's all as fucked-up as she knows it is. It's not as nice to worry how much of that anger is reserved for her.
Buffy's leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes, messy hair sweeping her collarbones.
Laurie remains where she is, three feet away with her legs updrawn and pressing against her breasts.
"So. Who is this twerp?" Because I'd like to kick his ass and throw him into the ocean, her tone says.
"You don't know him. When everything ripped," when his fucking brilliant plan tore holes leading to other New Yorks and a Hellmouth and- "I don't know where he went. If he was here, we'd know it."
"Flashy type."
"Mm." There's a long silence, too long. Laurie doesn't like silence anymore. "I'm gonna smoke. You wanna smoke?"
Buffy grimaces too, like that particular subject reminds her of too many people. She'd never tell Laurie she shouldn't, though. She's like that. "Mn, no thanks. I can't figure out those," she twirls her finger in a circle, a rough pantomime for a ball-pipe, "things anyway."
A smoke would be nice, but a minute later she still hasn't moved from exactly where she's been since she started telling her very summarized and heavily edited version of the whole damn tale. Her whole body just feels heavy.
"Hey." One foot adorned with perfect toenail polish (Buffy doesn't lose sight of her priorities) pokes at Laurie's knee. She wonders how much Buffy has to hold her strength back to keep from hurting her. "Mind telling me why you're all the way down there?"
Laurie shrugs one shoulder.
"...You think I'd be mad at you," and maybe it's a good thing that she sounds incredulous.
"Well, I mean. You've been researching it all this time. You were there for cleanup." And that had meant so much, that she hadn't been alone, that someone had been there to tell her it was all just "slime 'n grime" so don't think about it too hard, "I didn't say anything."
"Yeah, well. I know what it feels like to have secrets. Forgiveness is golden." She's got that look again, but Laurie won't ask, just like Buffy won't ask when Laurie can't sleep at night and crawls up the fire escape to look at the city.
Laurie just uncurls her posture and stretches out beside her. Tomorrow, they could find a version of Buffy's friends she recognizes, or a version of Laurie's friends she recognizes (she hopes Dan will be just as forgiving). Tomorrow.
It's all a small comfort, but she'll take it.
Fandoms: Watchmen, Buffy
Pairing: Laurie/Buffy
Rating: PG?
Warnings: None
Summary: Post-squid. Tomorrow, they'll look for their friends. Today, it's just them.
Originally written 8/8/09 on the KM for the crossover captcha prompt challenge. YES IT'S A CROSSOVER WHAT HAVE I DONE FEEL FREE TO LOSE ALL RESPECT FOR ME NOW. :|
Thick yellow stripes of sunset pour in where the blackout drapes aren't wide enough for the window. The light burns on their bedsheets (it's harder to notice how dingy they are this way) and the bare inside of her thigh. She was leaning up against the headboard, but now she's staring at Laurie.
"You mean to tell me," Buffy says, "that thing wasn't a demon."
Laurie grimaces, tugging at her pinkie toe in discomfort (there's a tiny bruise there, when did she get a bruise?), glad that the bed was shoved up against the wall so she had something to lean against. "Not in the traditional sense."
"Someone made that thing."
It's not a question. The look in her eyes is hard and sharp and confused and all the things Laurie feels about Veidt and it's nice, strangely, to have some outside confirmation that it's all as fucked-up as she knows it is. It's not as nice to worry how much of that anger is reserved for her.
Buffy's leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes, messy hair sweeping her collarbones.
Laurie remains where she is, three feet away with her legs updrawn and pressing against her breasts.
"So. Who is this twerp?" Because I'd like to kick his ass and throw him into the ocean, her tone says.
"You don't know him. When everything ripped," when his fucking brilliant plan tore holes leading to other New Yorks and a Hellmouth and- "I don't know where he went. If he was here, we'd know it."
"Flashy type."
"Mm." There's a long silence, too long. Laurie doesn't like silence anymore. "I'm gonna smoke. You wanna smoke?"
Buffy grimaces too, like that particular subject reminds her of too many people. She'd never tell Laurie she shouldn't, though. She's like that. "Mn, no thanks. I can't figure out those," she twirls her finger in a circle, a rough pantomime for a ball-pipe, "things anyway."
A smoke would be nice, but a minute later she still hasn't moved from exactly where she's been since she started telling her very summarized and heavily edited version of the whole damn tale. Her whole body just feels heavy.
"Hey." One foot adorned with perfect toenail polish (Buffy doesn't lose sight of her priorities) pokes at Laurie's knee. She wonders how much Buffy has to hold her strength back to keep from hurting her. "Mind telling me why you're all the way down there?"
Laurie shrugs one shoulder.
"...You think I'd be mad at you," and maybe it's a good thing that she sounds incredulous.
"Well, I mean. You've been researching it all this time. You were there for cleanup." And that had meant so much, that she hadn't been alone, that someone had been there to tell her it was all just "slime 'n grime" so don't think about it too hard, "I didn't say anything."
"Yeah, well. I know what it feels like to have secrets. Forgiveness is golden." She's got that look again, but Laurie won't ask, just like Buffy won't ask when Laurie can't sleep at night and crawls up the fire escape to look at the city.
Laurie just uncurls her posture and stretches out beside her. Tomorrow, they could find a version of Buffy's friends she recognizes, or a version of Laurie's friends she recognizes (she hopes Dan will be just as forgiving). Tomorrow.
It's all a small comfort, but she'll take it.