Spuffy vs. the Zombie
Title: Spuffy vs. the Zombie
Rating: PG
Setting: Post-series
Summary: For Week 1’s prompt, Vampires vs. Zombies. 500 words
Buffy stared in horror at her daughter’s white face, baggy eyes, stitched cheek, jaggedly-cut forehead, and bloody teeth, and then at Spike.
“What is this?”
“I’m a zombie,” piped up the nine-year-old, with a face-splitting grin. Fake blood trickled down her chin.
“I said she wasn’t allowed to be anything undead!” said Buffy indignantly.
Spike held up his hands. “No, you said she wasn’t allowed to be a vampire. Big difference between zombies and vampires, luv. Entirely different diets. And I don’t rot and have parts fall off, you may have noticed.”
Buffy glared at him, unappeased. “I think most people would agree that “no vampires” implicitly means nothing undead.”
“Next year you can spend three hours at Party City the weekend before Halloween, then,” said Spike. “And this was entirely her decision. I tried to get her to go for the princess or fairy costumes, but in the end I was just Mr. Wallet.”
“And my chauffeur,” said the zombie.
“Right, and her chauffeur,” said Spike.
Buffy knelt on the floor so she was eye-level with her daughter and took her hands. She half-expected them to be clammy. Up-close, she could see the plastic tape of the stitches and smell the face paint.
“Aly, sweetie, don’t you want to be something a little less dead? I mean dressing up as a monster is kind of uncreative for our family-”
“No, it’s ironic,” said Aly. “That’s what Aunt Anya said. She said I should be a vengeance demon, but I don’t know what that is-”
“What’s Danny going as?” asked Buffy quickly. “Why don’t you do something matching with him?”
“He’s going to be a werewolf,” said Aly. “Like Uncle Oz.”
“Oh, that’s cute!” said Buffy. “Like father, like son. Wait, no, not cute, I mean, you should dress up as something not supernatural. Something wholesome. ‘Cause you never know when an evil warlock has cursed the costumes.”
“I dunno, if someone did curse the costumes, I think I’d rather she be a zombie than a princess,” said Spike. “Being a noblewoman didn’t work out too well for you, I recall-”
Buffy’s lips thinned. Her eyebrow arched.
“On that thought, you should listen to your mum, Nibblet,” said Spike hastily. “Why do you want to be a zombie anyway?”
“Because being a vampire is so 2019. No offense, Dad. Eating brains is way cooler than drinking blood. And this way I’ll be prepared for the zombie apocalypse.”
“There’s no zombie apocalypse,” said Buffy. “And if there is, I’ll stop it.”
“You can’t stop a zombie apocalypse, Mom. It’s a plague.” Aly patted her on the arm. “Don’t worry. When we go trick-or-treating, we’re going to be the perfect monster family. I’ll eat people’s brains, Dad can drink their blood, and you can do the clean-up.”
She gave her parents another wide, red-toothed grin and skipped down the hallway to her bedroom, her plastic bag of makeup supplies swinging at her side.
“Clean-up?” choked Buffy as Spike, smiling slightly, pulled her into a hug, and kissed the top of her head.
Buffy mumbled her next words into his chest. “That’s it. Next year, she has seven options: Belle, Ariel, Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Jasmine, or Tiana.”
Rating: PG
Setting: Post-series
Summary: For Week 1’s prompt, Vampires vs. Zombies. 500 words
Buffy stared in horror at her daughter’s white face, baggy eyes, stitched cheek, jaggedly-cut forehead, and bloody teeth, and then at Spike.
“What is this?”
“I’m a zombie,” piped up the nine-year-old, with a face-splitting grin. Fake blood trickled down her chin.
“I said she wasn’t allowed to be anything undead!” said Buffy indignantly.
Spike held up his hands. “No, you said she wasn’t allowed to be a vampire. Big difference between zombies and vampires, luv. Entirely different diets. And I don’t rot and have parts fall off, you may have noticed.”
Buffy glared at him, unappeased. “I think most people would agree that “no vampires” implicitly means nothing undead.”
“Next year you can spend three hours at Party City the weekend before Halloween, then,” said Spike. “And this was entirely her decision. I tried to get her to go for the princess or fairy costumes, but in the end I was just Mr. Wallet.”
“And my chauffeur,” said the zombie.
“Right, and her chauffeur,” said Spike.
Buffy knelt on the floor so she was eye-level with her daughter and took her hands. She half-expected them to be clammy. Up-close, she could see the plastic tape of the stitches and smell the face paint.
“Aly, sweetie, don’t you want to be something a little less dead? I mean dressing up as a monster is kind of uncreative for our family-”
“No, it’s ironic,” said Aly. “That’s what Aunt Anya said. She said I should be a vengeance demon, but I don’t know what that is-”
“What’s Danny going as?” asked Buffy quickly. “Why don’t you do something matching with him?”
“He’s going to be a werewolf,” said Aly. “Like Uncle Oz.”
“Oh, that’s cute!” said Buffy. “Like father, like son. Wait, no, not cute, I mean, you should dress up as something not supernatural. Something wholesome. ‘Cause you never know when an evil warlock has cursed the costumes.”
“I dunno, if someone did curse the costumes, I think I’d rather she be a zombie than a princess,” said Spike. “Being a noblewoman didn’t work out too well for you, I recall-”
Buffy’s lips thinned. Her eyebrow arched.
“On that thought, you should listen to your mum, Nibblet,” said Spike hastily. “Why do you want to be a zombie anyway?”
“Because being a vampire is so 2019. No offense, Dad. Eating brains is way cooler than drinking blood. And this way I’ll be prepared for the zombie apocalypse.”
“There’s no zombie apocalypse,” said Buffy. “And if there is, I’ll stop it.”
“You can’t stop a zombie apocalypse, Mom. It’s a plague.” Aly patted her on the arm. “Don’t worry. When we go trick-or-treating, we’re going to be the perfect monster family. I’ll eat people’s brains, Dad can drink their blood, and you can do the clean-up.”
She gave her parents another wide, red-toothed grin and skipped down the hallway to her bedroom, her plastic bag of makeup supplies swinging at her side.
“Clean-up?” choked Buffy as Spike, smiling slightly, pulled her into a hug, and kissed the top of her head.
Buffy mumbled her next words into his chest. “That’s it. Next year, she has seven options: Belle, Ariel, Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Jasmine, or Tiana.”