(no subject)
Buffy: Hey, any word on Amber?
Willow: Nothing thrilling. Average student. Got detention once, for smoking. Regular smoking... with a cigarette, not, like, being smoky.
Let me just state now how incredibly WEIRD it is to write 1/2 of an exam one day, and the other 1/2 the next class. This is, of course, due to my wonderful non-semestered school under a public school system that allots a grand total of 10 examination days. This forces our crammed examination schedule to take place in-class instead, and due to shorter classes, we stretch exams over two days.
Hoo boy, that wasn't even understandable, was it now?
So in my efforts to procrastinate more than necessary, I've continued working on my little AU fic. And out of well, just sick of seeing it unpublished on my computer, I thought I'd post an excerpt of the first section. It's NOT the full first part by any means but I didn't want to give a lot of it away before I've actually finished polishing it completely. In fact - you might even consider this the first draft.
It will end up being BA-centric at some point and I'll post a full disclaimer of sorts when (if ever) I get the full thing up.
A light flickered idly in the window. Unimportant to most, if it even registered in a passerby's mind, it would immediately pass as a few kids fooling around in the rundown building, a faulty bulb. On and off, the lazy pace caused no alarm and would reveal nothing to a stranger.
Except the dark figure on the streets, crouched on the wet sidewalk in wait, was no ordinary stranger.
"Come on," Angel whispered as he gazed up, grimacing slightly as he massaged his right leg, resting his weight onto his other leg as he shook out the cramped stiffness. Reaching a hand up to rub his neck, he caught a glimpse of his shadow through the seedy glow emitted by a streetlight a few feet away. Careful not to make a sound, he melted back into the shadows of the garbage can again. And waited. Patience was a virtue he had learned the last few days.
On. Off. On. Off. On.
His ears detected the faint clicking of heels and his head raised enough to witness a small female figure appear seemingly from nowhere, hurridly throwing a light blue jacket around her shoulders, an envelope held between her teeth. She seemed to pause as she made her way down the street and stood under the awning of the building Angel watched and her eyes slowly scanned the empty but sad streets in front of her. It was getting dark; there would be little to see.
Angel forced himself still as he watched her eyes settle on the perimeter of the collected garbage cans he remained hidden behind. People passed by all the time at all hours of the day, but they never seemed to notice him. If she came his way... his muscles tightened in preparation. The wind whistled wildly, knocking a lid off and her eyes followed his movement, clanking loudly until it rolled to a stop. She gave the slightest shrug and removing the envelope from her mouth with her right hand, he watched her attempt to protect her blonde hair from the rain with the envelope as she loped around the corner, presumably to take the bus.
Letting out the sigh he had been holding, Angel relaxed and gave another quick glance to the dark clouds overhead. It had already rained that afternoon, and the skies looked ready to pour once more. An ominous rumbling was heard. And the lights continued their pattern.
On. Off. On. Off. On.
He checked his watch. 9:30PM. Five miserable hours wasted in this waiting game. He had seen people come and go all afternoon, mostly preparing for a wild weekend far away from this wet Friday scene. Chatting, having fun, going out with friends. And no one except that little girl had seemed remotely conscious of his presence, watching.
Lost in his idle thoughts and inner whinings, Angel shrugged. Might as well end it now and he might salvage something from his wasted evening. A dinner? He thought of the little diner that just opened a few blocks away and his spirits lifted. Maybe Wes would want in and they could drink their sober stuper away. He gave one final cursory look upwards out of habit and closed his eyes wearily.
And they shot open again.
The lights were off.
Without hesitation, he sprung from his position and darted to the side of the building, his route already mapped out. A small window on the side of the building away from the street offered a crack of an opening. Fitting his fingers in the gap held open by a rather large rock, he gave a grunt and pulled the pane all the way up, already ducking inside, limbo-style.
Inside the stairwell of the building, he urged his muscles to bring him upstairs faster. Third floor. Door open. Room 110... 112...114... He stopped, readying himself and fully alert now. Room 116.
The door flew inward with a sickening crunch against the wall. Dust particle flew in a circle around the neatly formed hole in the plaster. He skidded back in surprise as a figure unfolded from the wall, arms crossed, her silhouette emphasized from the little light coming through the window.
"No one's home," Cordelia greeted him, raising an eyebrow as he rushed in. "Dramatic entrance, much? You didn't have to kick the door down." She wandered around the sparse room, eyeing the single desk, chair and filing cabinet, sliding open the top drawer of the cabinet which squealed open. Her manicured fingers quickly flipped through the first few files.
Angel caught his breath as he surveyed the scene quickly. "What the hell are you doing here?" he said, bewildered. "You're not supposed to be here." His voice growing hard, he fought the urge to throw something at the pretty figure. Give them ONE lousy order and they go and break it.
"I know, He-Man," she waved off, dismissively. She strolled to the window to open the drapes but at his snarl, she quickly drew back. "You're gonna give me hell for it later. But hello, who cares if I'm here? Where the hell is -"
At her last words, two breathless figures rushed in, a male brandishing a hot dog followed closely by a female wielding a plastic fork defensively. They circled each other in an amateurish attempt at SWAT formation. Cordelia rolled her eyes at the intrusion. "Ooh, goody," she chirped. "Not exactly who I was looking for, but still... Maybe I should try again."
Growling, Angel glared at them before he joined the brunette in rifling through papers on the desk. "I told you guys to stay out of it. I gave you specific instructions and you ignored them."
"Oh please," Cordelia said. She gave Angel a slightly pitying gaze. "You should be glad I'm here. It's not like you were even here on time, anyway." She gave Xander and Willow questioning looks. "And how the heck do you think you're gonna take down the rebel with... what is that anyway?"
Xander gave her a sheepish smile as he took a bite of his weapon. "Hot dog. Although it's lacking ketchup" At her expression, he bristled slightly. "So we got hungry, okay? It's not like it's that much fun watching the bench. We were hungry, okay? So I went to the vendors and came back to see Willow screaming about how the lights were off."
"Well, they are," Willow mumbled, sliding down the wall until she was sitting against the wall, fingers playing with the dull edge of her knife. They all looked up as another figure strolled into the room. Angel threw his hands up in exasperation as he looked towards the ceiling, mouthing questions to the air.
Oz gave them all a steady look, taking the whole scene in carefully. His expression remained neutral as he gestured down the hall. "Um, I was going to tell you guys how the window in the basement stairwell is broken, but I think you already know that."
"Wow," Cordelia said, impressed. "You broke a window, Angel? Vandal, much? And after you went all pissy on me for trying to get some fresh air into this room."
Okay, that was my thing. It's my first ever attempt at BtVS fanfic, although I do write other dibbles and dabbles. Anyway - back to the grind. Hopefully this weekend I can start LJ-hopping again and catching up on what I'm desperately missing this week.
Anyone catch Angel the other night, by any chance? It honestly didn't really make much of an impression on me until the very last scene with Spike and Harmony. And the very last line:
"You're right. That girl hated me. She wanted me dead. I matter."
Oh I just love the scriptwriters.
Willow: Nothing thrilling. Average student. Got detention once, for smoking. Regular smoking... with a cigarette, not, like, being smoky.
Let me just state now how incredibly WEIRD it is to write 1/2 of an exam one day, and the other 1/2 the next class. This is, of course, due to my wonderful non-semestered school under a public school system that allots a grand total of 10 examination days. This forces our crammed examination schedule to take place in-class instead, and due to shorter classes, we stretch exams over two days.
Hoo boy, that wasn't even understandable, was it now?
So in my efforts to procrastinate more than necessary, I've continued working on my little AU fic. And out of well, just sick of seeing it unpublished on my computer, I thought I'd post an excerpt of the first section. It's NOT the full first part by any means but I didn't want to give a lot of it away before I've actually finished polishing it completely. In fact - you might even consider this the first draft.
It will end up being BA-centric at some point and I'll post a full disclaimer of sorts when (if ever) I get the full thing up.
A light flickered idly in the window. Unimportant to most, if it even registered in a passerby's mind, it would immediately pass as a few kids fooling around in the rundown building, a faulty bulb. On and off, the lazy pace caused no alarm and would reveal nothing to a stranger.
Except the dark figure on the streets, crouched on the wet sidewalk in wait, was no ordinary stranger.
"Come on," Angel whispered as he gazed up, grimacing slightly as he massaged his right leg, resting his weight onto his other leg as he shook out the cramped stiffness. Reaching a hand up to rub his neck, he caught a glimpse of his shadow through the seedy glow emitted by a streetlight a few feet away. Careful not to make a sound, he melted back into the shadows of the garbage can again. And waited. Patience was a virtue he had learned the last few days.
On. Off. On. Off. On.
His ears detected the faint clicking of heels and his head raised enough to witness a small female figure appear seemingly from nowhere, hurridly throwing a light blue jacket around her shoulders, an envelope held between her teeth. She seemed to pause as she made her way down the street and stood under the awning of the building Angel watched and her eyes slowly scanned the empty but sad streets in front of her. It was getting dark; there would be little to see.
Angel forced himself still as he watched her eyes settle on the perimeter of the collected garbage cans he remained hidden behind. People passed by all the time at all hours of the day, but they never seemed to notice him. If she came his way... his muscles tightened in preparation. The wind whistled wildly, knocking a lid off and her eyes followed his movement, clanking loudly until it rolled to a stop. She gave the slightest shrug and removing the envelope from her mouth with her right hand, he watched her attempt to protect her blonde hair from the rain with the envelope as she loped around the corner, presumably to take the bus.
Letting out the sigh he had been holding, Angel relaxed and gave another quick glance to the dark clouds overhead. It had already rained that afternoon, and the skies looked ready to pour once more. An ominous rumbling was heard. And the lights continued their pattern.
On. Off. On. Off. On.
He checked his watch. 9:30PM. Five miserable hours wasted in this waiting game. He had seen people come and go all afternoon, mostly preparing for a wild weekend far away from this wet Friday scene. Chatting, having fun, going out with friends. And no one except that little girl had seemed remotely conscious of his presence, watching.
Lost in his idle thoughts and inner whinings, Angel shrugged. Might as well end it now and he might salvage something from his wasted evening. A dinner? He thought of the little diner that just opened a few blocks away and his spirits lifted. Maybe Wes would want in and they could drink their sober stuper away. He gave one final cursory look upwards out of habit and closed his eyes wearily.
And they shot open again.
The lights were off.
Without hesitation, he sprung from his position and darted to the side of the building, his route already mapped out. A small window on the side of the building away from the street offered a crack of an opening. Fitting his fingers in the gap held open by a rather large rock, he gave a grunt and pulled the pane all the way up, already ducking inside, limbo-style.
Inside the stairwell of the building, he urged his muscles to bring him upstairs faster. Third floor. Door open. Room 110... 112...114... He stopped, readying himself and fully alert now. Room 116.
The door flew inward with a sickening crunch against the wall. Dust particle flew in a circle around the neatly formed hole in the plaster. He skidded back in surprise as a figure unfolded from the wall, arms crossed, her silhouette emphasized from the little light coming through the window.
"No one's home," Cordelia greeted him, raising an eyebrow as he rushed in. "Dramatic entrance, much? You didn't have to kick the door down." She wandered around the sparse room, eyeing the single desk, chair and filing cabinet, sliding open the top drawer of the cabinet which squealed open. Her manicured fingers quickly flipped through the first few files.
Angel caught his breath as he surveyed the scene quickly. "What the hell are you doing here?" he said, bewildered. "You're not supposed to be here." His voice growing hard, he fought the urge to throw something at the pretty figure. Give them ONE lousy order and they go and break it.
"I know, He-Man," she waved off, dismissively. She strolled to the window to open the drapes but at his snarl, she quickly drew back. "You're gonna give me hell for it later. But hello, who cares if I'm here? Where the hell is -"
At her last words, two breathless figures rushed in, a male brandishing a hot dog followed closely by a female wielding a plastic fork defensively. They circled each other in an amateurish attempt at SWAT formation. Cordelia rolled her eyes at the intrusion. "Ooh, goody," she chirped. "Not exactly who I was looking for, but still... Maybe I should try again."
Growling, Angel glared at them before he joined the brunette in rifling through papers on the desk. "I told you guys to stay out of it. I gave you specific instructions and you ignored them."
"Oh please," Cordelia said. She gave Angel a slightly pitying gaze. "You should be glad I'm here. It's not like you were even here on time, anyway." She gave Xander and Willow questioning looks. "And how the heck do you think you're gonna take down the rebel with... what is that anyway?"
Xander gave her a sheepish smile as he took a bite of his weapon. "Hot dog. Although it's lacking ketchup" At her expression, he bristled slightly. "So we got hungry, okay? It's not like it's that much fun watching the bench. We were hungry, okay? So I went to the vendors and came back to see Willow screaming about how the lights were off."
"Well, they are," Willow mumbled, sliding down the wall until she was sitting against the wall, fingers playing with the dull edge of her knife. They all looked up as another figure strolled into the room. Angel threw his hands up in exasperation as he looked towards the ceiling, mouthing questions to the air.
Oz gave them all a steady look, taking the whole scene in carefully. His expression remained neutral as he gestured down the hall. "Um, I was going to tell you guys how the window in the basement stairwell is broken, but I think you already know that."
"Wow," Cordelia said, impressed. "You broke a window, Angel? Vandal, much? And after you went all pissy on me for trying to get some fresh air into this room."
Okay, that was my thing. It's my first ever attempt at BtVS fanfic, although I do write other dibbles and dabbles. Anyway - back to the grind. Hopefully this weekend I can start LJ-hopping again and catching up on what I'm desperately missing this week.
Anyone catch Angel the other night, by any chance? It honestly didn't really make much of an impression on me until the very last scene with Spike and Harmony. And the very last line:
"You're right. That girl hated me. She wanted me dead. I matter."
Oh I just love the scriptwriters.