[Closed]

[stakesthings]

Who: stakesthings and samianscar
When: After this thread.
Where: Buffy's Apartment, woo!
Format: action
What: Buffy invites Spike over to get some Forge lessons. Talking or whatever ensues.
Warnings: None that I know of.

Comments

[stakesthings]

[That's right. Straight to the banter.]

[Buffy frowns at the Forge and gives it a slight shake. Again. Hey, so far it hasn't broken, right?]

I'm thinking there's a difference between walk-shake and shake-shake. And a lot of variation depending on angle and uh, strength, and wow do I sound like a giant geek or what?

[Guess someone had to fill in the geek-spot, with Willow and Giles both absent from Anatole.]

[And by the way, good for them.]

[But since she's here, she finds herself watching him look over the room - plain, pretty downscale, nothing too fancy. Nothing like the princess look she sported in her bedroom when she was a teenager. Nothing like the chaos of the whole house during that last year in Sunnydale, either.]

[Pretty normal.]

[For a victorian living room.]

Believe it or not, I don't stock the kitchen with various kinds of booze. Not so much a booze girl.

[Not that she doesn't indulge sometimes! But, well, let's just say in her experience? Beer... bad.]

[Buffy wiggles her bare feet against the rug.]

...shoes are optional. Pants are pretty much a question of decency.

[...yeah. She had that coming.]

But if there's mud tracking, you can anticipate a shampoo request.

[samianscar]

[raises the eyebrow again… then slips off his coat and starts taking off his boots.]

Careful, now, Slayer. You put the word "decency" in my general vicinity. Do that too often and the sky starts to fall.

[stands up bootless, and deliberately sticks hands in pants pockets-they're staying on.]

SORRY FOR THE DELAY, BUSY BUSY

[stakesthings]

[See, that's flexibility for you. Buffy eyes his feet, and then looks up at the rest of him.]

One small shoeless step, one big decency leap.

Not sure when I turned into my mom with the cleanliness, though. But the carpet is just so new!

It's like avoiding the fresh snow drifts! ...not that I've seen many snow drifts. [California? Not big on the snow storms.]

Besides, you seem more like the 'leave your footprint, dive right in' kind of guy.

[She blinks twice, and then...]

So, was that a yes or no to the non-irish coffee?

>^•^< Kitty says ¡es no problemo!

[samianscar]

[not really; 'cause in the space of her blinks, his mind had taken off on roads he thought he'd left behind continents ago.

Which was wrong 'cause they'd moved past…

Not here on Anatole, they hadn't. Not since they blew up the Hellmouth. They were reset to some less certain time. Weirder still, there wasn't a bigger common enemy world of doom picture. …Y'know, not an apocalypse one. So without the security of alliance-meeting purely socially? Made this kind of uncharted land. It all made sense. Hence the weird regressy impulses. And ye goode olde ache.

But Spike didn't want to regress with her. Not with her. Didn't want to dance, the jaunty brushpast or the aggressive sarcasm to pry a definitive reaction or even to throw himself at her feet. So he stayed put, not "diving right in", not trying to control the situation or carve his piece out of it. Angel would be gobsmocked.]

Yeah, sure. Brainfood for the lesson.

[Ah, lesson! That was the form to follow. Allows him to turn toward the sofa and sit.]

apparently i am a logging slowpoke, cry

[stakesthings]

Education and brainfood. Why didn't I think of that?

[She dips into the kitchen, and when she comes back, there is yes! another delicious coffee of the non-alcoholic variety. Liquor isn't very good brainfood anyway.]

[Coffee on table, Forge in hand! Buffy sits down, too - not too far, but also not too close. Call it 'comfortably just to the left of neutral' distance.]

How long have you been here without comprehending the function of buttons? Why are vampires such Luddites?

/colors all tortoiseshells with pretty chalk to match my own!

[samianscar]

[wrinkles his nose at her. Can't call him a "Luddite" twice and get off snoot free. He had been educated before the desouling and pretending not to have done…]

Complexion.

[swigs coffee. Which is, ow, hot.]

LMFAO! slightly less slow this time! PROGRESS.

[stakesthings]

...as far as reasons for technophobia go, that one's up there in the ranks of the elite.

[...did he just burn his tongue on coffee?]

[samianscar]

[Maybwe a wittuwh. Owth. Yeth.

Stops making faces after a minute. Sets the coffee down almost nonchalantly. 'Cuz, y'know. Not cool to be holding a cup. Until it was cool. Er. Not that he needed it to be. Pffsht. 'Course not.]

It's all about standards isn't it. Standards of beauty, Ms. Pays Attention To Such Things. When peasantwork was all out in fields, getting toasted, the sign you were rich and powerful was that you stayed indoors like the sun would set you on fire, even if it wouldn't. Then the industrial revolution: boom, the poorest work was all indoors, at machines, so if you were rich, you showed it by using all your spare leisurely time on the beach, tanning up.

So there y'go. If the Luddites had won, [waves a hand demonstratively at his pasty moonkissed face] height of style. Couldn't tell a vampire from a fashion model. …Not that you can anyway. Even when they're not…