August 20 - Aftermath (BtVS/Sons of Anarchy)
Title: Aftermath
Author: Glitterangelem
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Sons of Anarchy
Characters: Kennedy, Gemma
Rating: PG-13 (language and mentions of attempted rape)
Word Count: 701
Summary: Kennedy learns a little bit more about the person she saved.
Author's Notes: So I've only seen about one season's worth of Sons of Anarchy, spread across all seven seasons, so Gemma might be a little OOC.
Mournful country music piped through the truck’s speaker as Kennedy shifted the truck into drive, slowly starting down the almost empty part of town. Gemma sat in the passenger seat, seat visor down as she gently cleaned the cuts on her face, wincing as the alcohol swab pads soaked into the open wounds.
Kennedy slowly drove down the Main Street, noticing how Gemma averted her gaze as they passed a particularly raucous establishment. Still, she kept driving, slow enough to keep her eye on both her passenger and the road, but fast enough to not cause excess attention.
“You listen to this shit?” Gemma asked as she closed the first aid kit, tossing the used alcohol swab into the plastic bag Kennedy kept hooked to the center console.
She shrugged. “I don’t have satellite, so I listen to whatever the local stations are. I can’t help it that all the local stations are garbage.”
“This big expensive truck and you can’t pay for satellite?” Gemma asked.
As someone raised around money, and people willing to do whatever it took to exploit said money, Kennedy knew when someone was fishing. Giving a non-committal shrug, she said, “Can’t always get everything on the wish list.”
She could feel Gemma’s gaze on her, but years of having people stare at her, whisper about her as they wondered how she deserved to be in the upper level of the Council, had deadened her to any kind of looks to force her to talk.
Sighing, she finally looked over at Gemma and asked, “You got some place you want me to drop you off? Or should we keep driving around until you get sick of the music?”
That surprised a snort of laughter out of Gemma and she rummaged in her purse before pulling out a cigarette. Grabbing her lighter, she gestured towards the cigarette and asked, “Mind if I smoke?”
“Long as you open that window,” Kennedy responded.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kennedy watched as Gemma lit her cigarette with shaking fingers, taking a long drag as she opened the window. She closed her eyes and blew a stream of smoke out, the nicotine seemingly calming her down. “So back there, was that a set up?”
The question came out of the blue, and Kennedy couldn’t hide the obvious confusion on her face. Gemma elaborated, her voice hard as she explained, “You know. The men are set up to make it look like they’re going to gang rape me, when a suspiciously convenient woman comes to save the day, getting on my good side by preventing the rape. Starts fucking one of my boys, and weasels their way into the club. And all the knowledge included.”
Kennedy slammed on her brakes, both women lurching forward, as she turned to Gemma with a righteous sort of anger she usually only associated with Buffy. “Look. I don’t work with anyone willing to rape. Ever. If the rescue was convenient, it was all luck. I’m just a girl passing through town who happened to be lucky enough to save someone.”
Her anger filled the car, the accusation enough to bring the Slayer to the forefront, and Kennedy found herself slightly surprised that Gemma only cowered slightly. Most people, when confronted with the Slayer, were much more intimidated.
Which did make her wonder what exactly Gemma was involved in.
With a sigh, Kennedy eased back onto the gas, turning back to the road. “Besides, if I was sent to save and seduce anyway, it would be you. Your boys don’t have the type of equipment I like. And you don’t strike me as the type of lady that swings that way.”
That broke the tension, and Gemma chuckled, “No, I’m not.”
They drove a few more minutes in silence until Gemma said quietly, “Turn here. My place isn’t far. Since you did save me, I’m obligated to offer you a couch to crash for the night. My husband ain’t home, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
Burning with a litany of questions, all of which she pushed back, Kennedy nodded. “Okay. I’d be nice to sleep somewhere other than my truck for a night.”
Author: Glitterangelem
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Sons of Anarchy
Characters: Kennedy, Gemma
Rating: PG-13 (language and mentions of attempted rape)
Word Count: 701
Summary: Kennedy learns a little bit more about the person she saved.
Author's Notes: So I've only seen about one season's worth of Sons of Anarchy, spread across all seven seasons, so Gemma might be a little OOC.
Mournful country music piped through the truck’s speaker as Kennedy shifted the truck into drive, slowly starting down the almost empty part of town. Gemma sat in the passenger seat, seat visor down as she gently cleaned the cuts on her face, wincing as the alcohol swab pads soaked into the open wounds.
Kennedy slowly drove down the Main Street, noticing how Gemma averted her gaze as they passed a particularly raucous establishment. Still, she kept driving, slow enough to keep her eye on both her passenger and the road, but fast enough to not cause excess attention.
“You listen to this shit?” Gemma asked as she closed the first aid kit, tossing the used alcohol swab into the plastic bag Kennedy kept hooked to the center console.
She shrugged. “I don’t have satellite, so I listen to whatever the local stations are. I can’t help it that all the local stations are garbage.”
“This big expensive truck and you can’t pay for satellite?” Gemma asked.
As someone raised around money, and people willing to do whatever it took to exploit said money, Kennedy knew when someone was fishing. Giving a non-committal shrug, she said, “Can’t always get everything on the wish list.”
She could feel Gemma’s gaze on her, but years of having people stare at her, whisper about her as they wondered how she deserved to be in the upper level of the Council, had deadened her to any kind of looks to force her to talk.
Sighing, she finally looked over at Gemma and asked, “You got some place you want me to drop you off? Or should we keep driving around until you get sick of the music?”
That surprised a snort of laughter out of Gemma and she rummaged in her purse before pulling out a cigarette. Grabbing her lighter, she gestured towards the cigarette and asked, “Mind if I smoke?”
“Long as you open that window,” Kennedy responded.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kennedy watched as Gemma lit her cigarette with shaking fingers, taking a long drag as she opened the window. She closed her eyes and blew a stream of smoke out, the nicotine seemingly calming her down. “So back there, was that a set up?”
The question came out of the blue, and Kennedy couldn’t hide the obvious confusion on her face. Gemma elaborated, her voice hard as she explained, “You know. The men are set up to make it look like they’re going to gang rape me, when a suspiciously convenient woman comes to save the day, getting on my good side by preventing the rape. Starts fucking one of my boys, and weasels their way into the club. And all the knowledge included.”
Kennedy slammed on her brakes, both women lurching forward, as she turned to Gemma with a righteous sort of anger she usually only associated with Buffy. “Look. I don’t work with anyone willing to rape. Ever. If the rescue was convenient, it was all luck. I’m just a girl passing through town who happened to be lucky enough to save someone.”
Her anger filled the car, the accusation enough to bring the Slayer to the forefront, and Kennedy found herself slightly surprised that Gemma only cowered slightly. Most people, when confronted with the Slayer, were much more intimidated.
Which did make her wonder what exactly Gemma was involved in.
With a sigh, Kennedy eased back onto the gas, turning back to the road. “Besides, if I was sent to save and seduce anyway, it would be you. Your boys don’t have the type of equipment I like. And you don’t strike me as the type of lady that swings that way.”
That broke the tension, and Gemma chuckled, “No, I’m not.”
They drove a few more minutes in silence until Gemma said quietly, “Turn here. My place isn’t far. Since you did save me, I’m obligated to offer you a couch to crash for the night. My husband ain’t home, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
Burning with a litany of questions, all of which she pushed back, Kennedy nodded. “Okay. I’d be nice to sleep somewhere other than my truck for a night.”