ljs
in
giles_shorts
Merry Gentleman
For the prompt "carol singers," a double-drabble.
TITLE: Merry Gentleman
AUTHOR: LJS
LENGTH: 200 words
RATING: G
CHARACTERS: Giles, Anya
SUMMARY: It's the first Christmas season in his own magic shop, and Giles is feeling the Christmas spirit.
Giles was feeling remarkably merry (considering it was Sunnydale and a mysterious hell-god was running about, not to mention the worry over Joyce). It was his first Christmas season in his own magic shop. The cash register was all but smoking.
The almost empty shelves here in the shop cellar told the tale. He would sleep happily tonight dreaming of pounds and pence -
Or at least he would once he got these candles upstairs.
As he shifted the boxes, he found himself singing. “God rest ye, merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay….”
In fact, the more he sang, the more cheerful he became. He felt the holiday spirit welling in his heart. He felt his hands tingling with power.
“God rest ye, merry gentlemen,” he sang again -
Until the cellar door slammed, and Anya said, very soprano indeed, “Giles, don’t!”
He stopped. The music didn’t.
“Oh no, you’ve awakened the mandrake roots!” she said, just as he worked that out for himself. “Hand, please.”
Together they spoke the right incantation, and the mandrakes quieted.
Then she squeezed his hand. “Money makes me happy, too. But mind the merchandise.”
He found himself laughing. Anya, too, was part of this merry season.
TITLE: Merry Gentleman
AUTHOR: LJS
LENGTH: 200 words
RATING: G
CHARACTERS: Giles, Anya
SUMMARY: It's the first Christmas season in his own magic shop, and Giles is feeling the Christmas spirit.
Giles was feeling remarkably merry (considering it was Sunnydale and a mysterious hell-god was running about, not to mention the worry over Joyce). It was his first Christmas season in his own magic shop. The cash register was all but smoking.
The almost empty shelves here in the shop cellar told the tale. He would sleep happily tonight dreaming of pounds and pence -
Or at least he would once he got these candles upstairs.
As he shifted the boxes, he found himself singing. “God rest ye, merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay….”
In fact, the more he sang, the more cheerful he became. He felt the holiday spirit welling in his heart. He felt his hands tingling with power.
“God rest ye, merry gentlemen,” he sang again -
Until the cellar door slammed, and Anya said, very soprano indeed, “Giles, don’t!”
He stopped. The music didn’t.
“Oh no, you’ve awakened the mandrake roots!” she said, just as he worked that out for himself. “Hand, please.”
Together they spoke the right incantation, and the mandrakes quieted.
Then she squeezed his hand. “Money makes me happy, too. But mind the merchandise.”
He found himself laughing. Anya, too, was part of this merry season.