A Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich for Dawn: drabble written for open_on_sunday
A drabble of 100 words, with the prompt being: "meant to be". Rated PG for one mention of violence. Also on AO3.
[Story notes and disclaimer (click to open)]Title: A Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich for Dawn
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Spike&Dawn
Rating: PG
Warning(s): Mention of violence
Written for: open_on_sunday
Prompt: “meant to be”
Word Count: 100
Distribution: No posting elsewhere without express permission please.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Spike eyed the toaster suspiciously. How hard could it be?
Dru could attest to his caregiving aptitude: He’d snatched the perfect nursemaid to serve...as dinner. Right. Not getting nostalgic over murder. Reformed, he’d mastered the microwave for reheating blood, after only a few blood-splattered incidents. Toaster, microwave-how different were they anyway?
Dawn appeared, nose wrinkled over burnt toast smell like the breath of an elephant in the room. “Bloody disgusting, peanut butter and jelly,” he grumbled. “Not meant to be together, Nibblet.”
An eyeroll. “Sooo... Pizza?”
Aha! Spike snapped his fingers. “Pizza.”
He might pull this off after all.
[Story notes and disclaimer (click to open)]Title: A Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich for Dawn
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Spike&Dawn
Rating: PG
Warning(s): Mention of violence
Written for: open_on_sunday
Prompt: “meant to be”
Word Count: 100
Distribution: No posting elsewhere without express permission please.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Spike eyed the toaster suspiciously. How hard could it be?
Dru could attest to his caregiving aptitude: He’d snatched the perfect nursemaid to serve...as dinner. Right. Not getting nostalgic over murder. Reformed, he’d mastered the microwave for reheating blood, after only a few blood-splattered incidents. Toaster, microwave-how different were they anyway?
Dawn appeared, nose wrinkled over burnt toast smell like the breath of an elephant in the room. “Bloody disgusting, peanut butter and jelly,” he grumbled. “Not meant to be together, Nibblet.”
An eyeroll. “Sooo... Pizza?”
Aha! Spike snapped his fingers. “Pizza.”
He might pull this off after all.