Drabbles
Figured I'd post a few unrelated drabbles I've written recently and am pretty happy with.
As usual, it all belongs to Joss, yada yada yada.
Vae, Puto, Monstrum Fio (*)
Words always came easy to Ford. He's been rehearsing every step, polishing every phrase: tricking Buffy, impressing the vampire wannabes, convincing Spike, triumphing over that fucking disease and rising again, even the cool one-liners he'll use on his terrified victims...
But then it's real.
He climbs from his grave, comes face to face with his childhood friend, and in the second it takes him to turn to dust he looks into her eyes. He sees no fear, no hatred, no hesitation; just grief. And all his clever phrases disintegrate with him.
For once, there's no clever pun from her either.
Tech Support
Willow stared at it. "O...kay. And this just... happened?"
"Yes." Giles looked guilty. "I don't suppose you could, um... fix it?"
"Uh-uh. I'm not touching - GAAH! It moved!"
"I was just copying the spells from Green's Compendium of Transmogrification so you'd have it on computer. They're easily triggered so I didn't recite them out loud, I just typed them in Word, saved, and..." Something dawned on him. "Oh dear."
Willow couldn't help but grin. "You hit 'spell check', didn't you?"
Giles nodded. The giant frog that ten minutes and one successfully checked spell earlier had been his computer croaked unhappily.
Esperanza
Andrew's snoring in the passenger seat, exhausted. Jonathan sticks to small roads.
217 miles to go
He checks himself in the mirror. The border was the last time he'll use a glamour, he decides; it feels like... cheating, now.
143 miles
Sunset. He grips the wheel tighter; just a few more hours of darkness now.
49 miles
Tomorrow they'll make everything right. They'll find the seal, show Buffy... The nightmares will stop.
WELCOME TO SUNNYDALE
"Home sweet home." Jonathan lets out a breath.
Andrew's awake, fidgeting with something in his bag. "You keep circling around. Just... just drive straight in."
Pronounce It Properly
Angel hesitated at the stairs leading up to the Learjet.
"Come on already," Cordelia hissed. "The Z'baygn demons don't like to be kept waiting."
"But..."
"I know, vampires can't fly, they didn't have planes in your day, yada yada yada. But this is their HQ, they've sworn not to take off, and we need their help for -"
"I know," Angel grumbled. "But can't we meet their leader at our office, or a demon bar, or... why does it have to be here?"
Cordelia groaned. "Do I need to say it?"
"Say what?"
"The reigning Z'baygn stays mainly in the plane."
Allergy
"Doctor...?" The nurse sounded bewildered. "You'd better come see this patient. "
"Let me guess: acute anemia, bite marks on the neck...?"
"No, I've never seen anything like this before. It doesn't seem life-threatening, but..."
The patient was conscious, but being covered from head to toe in a mucus-like substance that was already hardening like cement had to be unpleasant. They ended up ruining 18 scalpels cutting him loose.
(...)
Downtown, Spike handed Giles a handkerchief. "Gesundheit. Why'd you sneeze on that bloke after I told you about Fyarl mucus?"
Giles glared at him with demonic eyes and growled something about mohair.
Incomplete
The Razorbacks were never more than average; a football team can only take so many mysterious deaths. Larry was big but he was never supposed to start as quarterback, and Percy might be great at shooting hoops but as a wide receiver he was crap. They almost got to the playoffs in senior year, but Larry got sacked in the last game and that was it.
Now Larry stands firm as the snake towers over him, while Percy and the gang try to hold the line. The flamethrower sputters, but he raises it and braces himself for the hit.
HailMaryfullagracehelpmewinthi-
A Plaice To Call Home
The worst thing about being trapped in a coffin deep under the waves wasn't the hunger, but the loneliness. Without a single living thing to talk to, Angel felt himself going mad.
Then a small flatfish settled on his window. Its mouth moved slowly, as if talking. Sometimes it went for a short swim, casting a cock-eyed glance at the curious creature in the box, but it always returned to keep him company and listen to him.
For a while, that fish kept Angel sane. As bad as his situation was, at least he was a vampire with a sole.
As usual, it all belongs to Joss, yada yada yada.
Vae, Puto, Monstrum Fio (*)
Words always came easy to Ford. He's been rehearsing every step, polishing every phrase: tricking Buffy, impressing the vampire wannabes, convincing Spike, triumphing over that fucking disease and rising again, even the cool one-liners he'll use on his terrified victims...
But then it's real.
He climbs from his grave, comes face to face with his childhood friend, and in the second it takes him to turn to dust he looks into her eyes. He sees no fear, no hatred, no hesitation; just grief. And all his clever phrases disintegrate with him.
For once, there's no clever pun from her either.
Tech Support
Willow stared at it. "O...kay. And this just... happened?"
"Yes." Giles looked guilty. "I don't suppose you could, um... fix it?"
"Uh-uh. I'm not touching - GAAH! It moved!"
"I was just copying the spells from Green's Compendium of Transmogrification so you'd have it on computer. They're easily triggered so I didn't recite them out loud, I just typed them in Word, saved, and..." Something dawned on him. "Oh dear."
Willow couldn't help but grin. "You hit 'spell check', didn't you?"
Giles nodded. The giant frog that ten minutes and one successfully checked spell earlier had been his computer croaked unhappily.
Esperanza
Andrew's snoring in the passenger seat, exhausted. Jonathan sticks to small roads.
217 miles to go
He checks himself in the mirror. The border was the last time he'll use a glamour, he decides; it feels like... cheating, now.
143 miles
Sunset. He grips the wheel tighter; just a few more hours of darkness now.
49 miles
Tomorrow they'll make everything right. They'll find the seal, show Buffy... The nightmares will stop.
WELCOME TO SUNNYDALE
"Home sweet home." Jonathan lets out a breath.
Andrew's awake, fidgeting with something in his bag. "You keep circling around. Just... just drive straight in."
Pronounce It Properly
Angel hesitated at the stairs leading up to the Learjet.
"Come on already," Cordelia hissed. "The Z'baygn demons don't like to be kept waiting."
"But..."
"I know, vampires can't fly, they didn't have planes in your day, yada yada yada. But this is their HQ, they've sworn not to take off, and we need their help for -"
"I know," Angel grumbled. "But can't we meet their leader at our office, or a demon bar, or... why does it have to be here?"
Cordelia groaned. "Do I need to say it?"
"Say what?"
"The reigning Z'baygn stays mainly in the plane."
Allergy
"Doctor...?" The nurse sounded bewildered. "You'd better come see this patient. "
"Let me guess: acute anemia, bite marks on the neck...?"
"No, I've never seen anything like this before. It doesn't seem life-threatening, but..."
The patient was conscious, but being covered from head to toe in a mucus-like substance that was already hardening like cement had to be unpleasant. They ended up ruining 18 scalpels cutting him loose.
(...)
Downtown, Spike handed Giles a handkerchief. "Gesundheit. Why'd you sneeze on that bloke after I told you about Fyarl mucus?"
Giles glared at him with demonic eyes and growled something about mohair.
Incomplete
The Razorbacks were never more than average; a football team can only take so many mysterious deaths. Larry was big but he was never supposed to start as quarterback, and Percy might be great at shooting hoops but as a wide receiver he was crap. They almost got to the playoffs in senior year, but Larry got sacked in the last game and that was it.
Now Larry stands firm as the snake towers over him, while Percy and the gang try to hold the line. The flamethrower sputters, but he raises it and braces himself for the hit.
HailMaryfullagracehelpmewinthi-
A Plaice To Call Home
The worst thing about being trapped in a coffin deep under the waves wasn't the hunger, but the loneliness. Without a single living thing to talk to, Angel felt himself going mad.
Then a small flatfish settled on his window. Its mouth moved slowly, as if talking. Sometimes it went for a short swim, casting a cock-eyed glance at the curious creature in the box, but it always returned to keep him company and listen to him.
For a while, that fish kept Angel sane. As bad as his situation was, at least he was a vampire with a sole.