Magnitude (Dragon, PG)
Author Brutti ma buoni
Title Magnitude
Rating PG
Prompt Dragon (Sorry quinara; probably not your dream dragon)
Words 700
Setting Just after Not Fade Away
When a dragon falls to Earth, it makes an impact.
Also quite the splatter.
Buffy picked her way disgustedly over the leathery, scaly remains. This was beyond gross. This was… oh god, why was she wearing her new pumps? Salvatore would be crushed if he saw what she'd done to his leatherwork. Crushed, and severely pissed. Maybe she should just never go back to Rome. That might be safest.
"Slayer."
His voice was behind her. She didn't turn.
"Slayer. You okay?"
She walked on, scanning the late-evening light for any telltale motion that might reveal yet another minion of evil in need of slayage. She might have been late to the party, but that didn't mean she couldn't finish off all the leftover chips and dregs of beer and this metaphor had got way out of control. Which was good, it was fine, it was what she was trying to do, with the shoe concerns and the figures of speech, because it was really, really important that she didn't think about anything important right now.
Now was not the time to make big decisions or say anything she might regret.
"Slay- Buffy. Are you going to face me?"
She groped for another distraction. Dragon claws were purple; that was a surprise. Maybe she could accessorize them with- No, tasteless. Tacky thought. Drop it. You don't wear fur, you don't drill holes in dragon claws and use them as bag charms.
"Buffy! Look at me! I'm sorry. Okay? Is that what you need to hear? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I couldn't save them."
It wasn't your fault. She thought the important thing, but she didn't say it. I know you tried. I know you'd have saved them if you could. I'm sorry you're the last man standing. But they hadn't spoken for a year. He hadn't come to her. He'd had his own shot at destiny. And this was how it turned out. With the death of heroes and dragons. With aftermath on her shoes. With Spike behind her, and her unable to turn round.
He was moving among the wreckage, getting closer to her now that the sun had sunk below the horizon and he could walk more freely. She could hear his boots squelch in the lizard flesh.
"We buried them. You weren't there."
"I had to be here." Slayer duty, that was a reflex.
"Someone could have covered." He sounded hurt. Reasonable, too, which wasn't like Spike. Prepared to negotiate. Like he was still apologising.
She didn't answer, because it was true, but it hadn't been possible. She had to be here, where they fell. Where she came too late. Till she knew she'd done everything.
"You haven't looked at me. Can't stand the sight of me?"
She took a breath. Important things were simmering now, coming to boil. I can't face you. I don't know why you didn't look for me. I don't know why you didn't call. I'm sorry I was too late. It's just too much.
She didn't say them. She thought he heard anyway. Maybe finally understood there were wrongs on both sides, the way she saw it, and how much she didn't want to talk about them today.
He stopped trying to apologise, anyway. Kicked something in the rotten wreckage. She could hear the relief in his voice as he found another topic. "Huh. Never knew dragon claws were purple. We should keep 'em. Make a nice pendant for you. Maybe a ring…"
She couldn't hold in a bubble of giggles. Needed to share it with him, since he shared her thoughts so perfectly on this. Which was unimportant, but mattered so much just now.
Turned around, and finally looked at him.
Her shoes were wrecked. That really wasn't important.
He looked half-wrecked too. Torn up around the mouth and one ear blackened and swollen; one arm in a sling. Burns on one leg showing through the raggedy jeans.
She kissed him, carefully. Because there was no simple resolution to the past. She wanted it to be the future now.
"Okay." Meaningless word of utter importance. Okay, they'd move on. "But no more dragons."
***
Title Magnitude
Rating PG
Prompt Dragon (Sorry quinara; probably not your dream dragon)
Words 700
Setting Just after Not Fade Away
When a dragon falls to Earth, it makes an impact.
Also quite the splatter.
Buffy picked her way disgustedly over the leathery, scaly remains. This was beyond gross. This was… oh god, why was she wearing her new pumps? Salvatore would be crushed if he saw what she'd done to his leatherwork. Crushed, and severely pissed. Maybe she should just never go back to Rome. That might be safest.
"Slayer."
His voice was behind her. She didn't turn.
"Slayer. You okay?"
She walked on, scanning the late-evening light for any telltale motion that might reveal yet another minion of evil in need of slayage. She might have been late to the party, but that didn't mean she couldn't finish off all the leftover chips and dregs of beer and this metaphor had got way out of control. Which was good, it was fine, it was what she was trying to do, with the shoe concerns and the figures of speech, because it was really, really important that she didn't think about anything important right now.
Now was not the time to make big decisions or say anything she might regret.
"Slay- Buffy. Are you going to face me?"
She groped for another distraction. Dragon claws were purple; that was a surprise. Maybe she could accessorize them with- No, tasteless. Tacky thought. Drop it. You don't wear fur, you don't drill holes in dragon claws and use them as bag charms.
"Buffy! Look at me! I'm sorry. Okay? Is that what you need to hear? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I couldn't save them."
It wasn't your fault. She thought the important thing, but she didn't say it. I know you tried. I know you'd have saved them if you could. I'm sorry you're the last man standing. But they hadn't spoken for a year. He hadn't come to her. He'd had his own shot at destiny. And this was how it turned out. With the death of heroes and dragons. With aftermath on her shoes. With Spike behind her, and her unable to turn round.
He was moving among the wreckage, getting closer to her now that the sun had sunk below the horizon and he could walk more freely. She could hear his boots squelch in the lizard flesh.
"We buried them. You weren't there."
"I had to be here." Slayer duty, that was a reflex.
"Someone could have covered." He sounded hurt. Reasonable, too, which wasn't like Spike. Prepared to negotiate. Like he was still apologising.
She didn't answer, because it was true, but it hadn't been possible. She had to be here, where they fell. Where she came too late. Till she knew she'd done everything.
"You haven't looked at me. Can't stand the sight of me?"
She took a breath. Important things were simmering now, coming to boil. I can't face you. I don't know why you didn't look for me. I don't know why you didn't call. I'm sorry I was too late. It's just too much.
She didn't say them. She thought he heard anyway. Maybe finally understood there were wrongs on both sides, the way she saw it, and how much she didn't want to talk about them today.
He stopped trying to apologise, anyway. Kicked something in the rotten wreckage. She could hear the relief in his voice as he found another topic. "Huh. Never knew dragon claws were purple. We should keep 'em. Make a nice pendant for you. Maybe a ring…"
She couldn't hold in a bubble of giggles. Needed to share it with him, since he shared her thoughts so perfectly on this. Which was unimportant, but mattered so much just now.
Turned around, and finally looked at him.
Her shoes were wrecked. That really wasn't important.
He looked half-wrecked too. Torn up around the mouth and one ear blackened and swollen; one arm in a sling. Burns on one leg showing through the raggedy jeans.
She kissed him, carefully. Because there was no simple resolution to the past. She wanted it to be the future now.
"Okay." Meaningless word of utter importance. Okay, they'd move on. "But no more dragons."
***