Prompt: A Tiki Scare is No Fair (angst)
Prompt: A Tiki Scare is No Fair
Setting: The future
Rating: PG
Words: 220
A/N: Blame Drizzlydaze for the outcome. She said it was okay.
A/N2: Puʻuhonua o Hōnaunau National Historical Park for anybody who hasn't been there... or doesn't live an hour away...
Buffy ducked the swing of a massive wooden fist. “This is the last time I trust Giles when he offers to send me on vacation to exotic destinations!”
“Still, Hawai’i. Pretty cool, no?” Willow said. She darted a little ways down the beach, and from the cover of a knocked over pile of lava rocks that had once been an ancient artifact, sent a bolt of energy at the Tiki monster.
“If they don’t deport us for ruining their National Monument thing.” Buffy tried not to look at the shattered remnants of the Tikis littering the rocky beach, or the smoking husk of the visitor center. Or the smoking husk of the hey - the hey-now - the temple thingy. “Spike, incoming!”
Spike pivoted in time to block, then parried with his sword. “Not loving the walking wooden death. Think Giles has ulterior motives. Again.”
“Don’t be silly,” Buffy said. “He hasn’t tried to kill you in years.” She went low, hamstringing the monster. Could you hamstring something wooden? Either way, it began to wobble precariously. With a bang and a crash, the last of the Tiki monsters fell, sending a shower of splinters flying in all directions.
Spike ducked. But not fast enough. His face went slack, his eyes wide. “Buffy...” he said.
And then he was gone.
Setting: The future
Rating: PG
Words: 220
A/N: Blame Drizzlydaze for the outcome. She said it was okay.
A/N2: Puʻuhonua o Hōnaunau National Historical Park for anybody who hasn't been there... or doesn't live an hour away...
Buffy ducked the swing of a massive wooden fist. “This is the last time I trust Giles when he offers to send me on vacation to exotic destinations!”
“Still, Hawai’i. Pretty cool, no?” Willow said. She darted a little ways down the beach, and from the cover of a knocked over pile of lava rocks that had once been an ancient artifact, sent a bolt of energy at the Tiki monster.
“If they don’t deport us for ruining their National Monument thing.” Buffy tried not to look at the shattered remnants of the Tikis littering the rocky beach, or the smoking husk of the visitor center. Or the smoking husk of the hey - the hey-now - the temple thingy. “Spike, incoming!”
Spike pivoted in time to block, then parried with his sword. “Not loving the walking wooden death. Think Giles has ulterior motives. Again.”
“Don’t be silly,” Buffy said. “He hasn’t tried to kill you in years.” She went low, hamstringing the monster. Could you hamstring something wooden? Either way, it began to wobble precariously. With a bang and a crash, the last of the Tiki monsters fell, sending a shower of splinters flying in all directions.
Spike ducked. But not fast enough. His face went slack, his eyes wide. “Buffy...” he said.
And then he was gone.