Fic for still_grrr
January's prompts for still_grrr are all about time; this week I chose "hours".
Title: Good Hours and Bad Hours
Word Count: 413
Characters/Pairing (if any): Ensemble with Spuffy overtones.
A/N: S6, the party that wouldn't end. Very slight tweaking of the order of arrivals.
Good Hours and Bad Hours
The first hour of the party was rather slow. Sophie-from-work wasn't the world's best mixer. She was nice, though. She smiled a lot.
In the second hour Tara arrived, which added interest. She had a moment for a brief word of sympathy with Buffy, and handled meeting her was-she-really-ex-girlfriend-or-what? with care and sensitivity.
Some time during the next hour the vampire who had sworn he'd be dusted rather than turn up to such a dull, predictable affair did turn up. With his baggy friend in tow.
In the next hour Richard arrived. The potential throat-throttling motivation, Xander and Anya's idea of a good idea. Which, as ideas went, really wasn't. Richard, though nice, was oddly bland. Bland was good. Bland was not spicy. Bland was not dangerous.
Bland didn't look at you with blue eyes you could drown in. Bland said nice, safe, bland things. Which was good. Very good.
In the next hour there were presents, which was good. Xander trumped everyone with a magnificent weapons chest. Willow presented her with a massager which she tried to pretend was for sore backs and knotted thigh muscles. Spike's expression told her he had other ideas. Which were bad. Very bad.
Dawn had a beautiful coat. The money for that must have taken months to save.
The hours started to blur into each other after that. Wherever she went either there was Spike, leering and making suggestions with his bedroom eyes. Or there was no Spike and everything was unaccountably dull.
In the end even Buffy worked out that the party was going on too long. Then came the excitement of entirely the wrong kind, with the fighting and the trying to escape, and the failing, and the injured civilian, and the double demon birthday treat and the klepto kid. Typical Buffy birthday after all, then.
In the final hour everyone went, leaving Buffy to comfort Dawn, which was tricky, and clean up, which was icky. It took two more hours before Dawn would stop sniffling and apologising. And an hour after that before she went to sleep.
Buffy had two hours before she was due at work. She kissed Dawn's sleeping head and tucked her in. She left the house quietly and strolled in no particular direction. Really.
She had a clear hour to help her vampire with his cramp before she left to serve burgers. And that hour wasn't bland, or dull, or interminable. That hour was the shortest of them all.
Title: Good Hours and Bad Hours
Word Count: 413
Characters/Pairing (if any): Ensemble with Spuffy overtones.
A/N: S6, the party that wouldn't end. Very slight tweaking of the order of arrivals.
Good Hours and Bad Hours
The first hour of the party was rather slow. Sophie-from-work wasn't the world's best mixer. She was nice, though. She smiled a lot.
In the second hour Tara arrived, which added interest. She had a moment for a brief word of sympathy with Buffy, and handled meeting her was-she-really-ex-girlfriend-or-what? with care and sensitivity.
Some time during the next hour the vampire who had sworn he'd be dusted rather than turn up to such a dull, predictable affair did turn up. With his baggy friend in tow.
In the next hour Richard arrived. The potential throat-throttling motivation, Xander and Anya's idea of a good idea. Which, as ideas went, really wasn't. Richard, though nice, was oddly bland. Bland was good. Bland was not spicy. Bland was not dangerous.
Bland didn't look at you with blue eyes you could drown in. Bland said nice, safe, bland things. Which was good. Very good.
In the next hour there were presents, which was good. Xander trumped everyone with a magnificent weapons chest. Willow presented her with a massager which she tried to pretend was for sore backs and knotted thigh muscles. Spike's expression told her he had other ideas. Which were bad. Very bad.
Dawn had a beautiful coat. The money for that must have taken months to save.
The hours started to blur into each other after that. Wherever she went either there was Spike, leering and making suggestions with his bedroom eyes. Or there was no Spike and everything was unaccountably dull.
In the end even Buffy worked out that the party was going on too long. Then came the excitement of entirely the wrong kind, with the fighting and the trying to escape, and the failing, and the injured civilian, and the double demon birthday treat and the klepto kid. Typical Buffy birthday after all, then.
In the final hour everyone went, leaving Buffy to comfort Dawn, which was tricky, and clean up, which was icky. It took two more hours before Dawn would stop sniffling and apologising. And an hour after that before she went to sleep.
Buffy had two hours before she was due at work. She kissed Dawn's sleeping head and tucked her in. She left the house quietly and strolled in no particular direction. Really.
She had a clear hour to help her vampire with his cramp before she left to serve burgers. And that hour wasn't bland, or dull, or interminable. That hour was the shortest of them all.