if your colours have started to run -- let them all run, run away from you
Who: univalent & a_slayer_slays
What: Can't find one punching bag? Go knock ondown the door of another.
When: Backdated to a few hours after this
Where: Spike's apartment.
Summary: When conversation with a certain pirate dredges up all kinds of bad for Buffy, she decides to play the aggro card and look for justice.
Rating: PG13ish
Buffy crumpled Jack Sparrow's hat in her hands, but it offered only a paltry piece of relief to her very upset and very bruised ego. Shortly after she had hung up on the pirate, Buffy had hastily thrown something non-sleepwear-related on and had hoofed it to the lake. That was were he had gone missing from, right? Perhaps he hadn't even been where he had said he was. Maybe he was still there. Maybe it was all made up. Just one more excuse for Buffy to give him a whole face full of knuckle-sandwich.
But Jack wasn't there. So now, pent up on aggro and indignation, she sought the increasingly familiar path back that would take her nearer Spike's building. It was late, but she did not bother with pussy-footing her way through the front door. And she did not bother with knocking, either. It would spoil the whole concept of a grand entrance. She took the hat and she tossed it onto the seat of a chair.
"That's it," she announced to the room--whether he was in it or not. "I have to kill him. There's pretty much no other solution."
Oh, drama. Thy name is Buffy Summers.
What: Can't find one punching bag? Go knock ondown the door of another.
When: Backdated to a few hours after this
Where: Spike's apartment.
Summary: When conversation with a certain pirate dredges up all kinds of bad for Buffy, she decides to play the aggro card and look for justice.
Rating: PG13ish
Buffy crumpled Jack Sparrow's hat in her hands, but it offered only a paltry piece of relief to her very upset and very bruised ego. Shortly after she had hung up on the pirate, Buffy had hastily thrown something non-sleepwear-related on and had hoofed it to the lake. That was were he had gone missing from, right? Perhaps he hadn't even been where he had said he was. Maybe he was still there. Maybe it was all made up. Just one more excuse for Buffy to give him a whole face full of knuckle-sandwich.
But Jack wasn't there. So now, pent up on aggro and indignation, she sought the increasingly familiar path back that would take her nearer Spike's building. It was late, but she did not bother with pussy-footing her way through the front door. And she did not bother with knocking, either. It would spoil the whole concept of a grand entrance. She took the hat and she tossed it onto the seat of a chair.
"That's it," she announced to the room--whether he was in it or not. "I have to kill him. There's pretty much no other solution."
Oh, drama. Thy name is Buffy Summers.