My first bona fide drabbles! I'm so proud!
Title: Laboring Under Different Assumptions
Summary: Willow, Buffy, and Anya react differently to a certain situation. Takes place in my post-NFA verse in 2010-2011. 3 drabbles, 300 words. Rated G.
“Do you need anything?” asked Buffy.
“Ooh, ice water!” said Anya. “Friends usually fetch that in movies.”
“Guys, it’s okay," said Oz. "We can handle this." He unscrewed a thermos and poured a steaming, sweet-smelling liquid into the cup. Willow accepted it with a wan but happy smile and drank. After handing him back the cup, they interlaced fingers. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
Buffy and Anya leaned forward, wide-eyed.
A shudder rippled through Willow. Her breath hitched and then evened out.
“Was that a contraction?” whispered Buffy.
Willow and Oz were silent.
“This is boring,” said Anya.
* * *
“Buffy, are you okay? Is there anything-”
“I’m fine! I’m the slayer, I’m used to pain.” She doubled up momentarily and then stretched her trembling lips wide. “See? No big!”
Spike didn’t mention that her smile looked more like a grimace. All right, like bared teeth.
“The doctor can give you an epidural-”
“I’m fine. I’ve been stabbed, beaten, I’ve died. This is nothing compared to slaying.”
“Love, I think it’s different-”
“Willow was fine. She just did her meditation thingy and popped Danny out. I can meditate. This won’t ping on my pain thresh- aaarghhh-”
“Ahhh, Buffy, my hand-”
* * *
“Why- isn’t- Xander- here- aah!”
“He’s on his way- traffic-”
“Augh!”
“That’s it, everyone out!” The doctor ushered the Scoobies toward the door.
“But-” began Buffy.
“No buts!”
“Wait!”
All heads swiveled toward Anya, who propped herself up, panting. “Spike stays.”
“What?” said Buffy.
“What?” echoed Spike.
“I- hate- men- and I’m going to- aah- list all the ways I’ve tortured them- ungh- and Xander’s- not here and Spike- has a penis-”
Though it may have been the fluorescents, Spike seemed to pale. After a second Buffy prodded him forward.
Anya grabbed his hand and squeezed. “882: I- aah- disemboweled…”
Summary: Willow, Buffy, and Anya react differently to a certain situation. Takes place in my post-NFA verse in 2010-2011. 3 drabbles, 300 words. Rated G.
“Do you need anything?” asked Buffy.
“Ooh, ice water!” said Anya. “Friends usually fetch that in movies.”
“Guys, it’s okay," said Oz. "We can handle this." He unscrewed a thermos and poured a steaming, sweet-smelling liquid into the cup. Willow accepted it with a wan but happy smile and drank. After handing him back the cup, they interlaced fingers. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
Buffy and Anya leaned forward, wide-eyed.
A shudder rippled through Willow. Her breath hitched and then evened out.
“Was that a contraction?” whispered Buffy.
Willow and Oz were silent.
“This is boring,” said Anya.
* * *
“Buffy, are you okay? Is there anything-”
“I’m fine! I’m the slayer, I’m used to pain.” She doubled up momentarily and then stretched her trembling lips wide. “See? No big!”
Spike didn’t mention that her smile looked more like a grimace. All right, like bared teeth.
“The doctor can give you an epidural-”
“I’m fine. I’ve been stabbed, beaten, I’ve died. This is nothing compared to slaying.”
“Love, I think it’s different-”
“Willow was fine. She just did her meditation thingy and popped Danny out. I can meditate. This won’t ping on my pain thresh- aaarghhh-”
“Ahhh, Buffy, my hand-”
* * *
“Why- isn’t- Xander- here- aah!”
“He’s on his way- traffic-”
“Augh!”
“That’s it, everyone out!” The doctor ushered the Scoobies toward the door.
“But-” began Buffy.
“No buts!”
“Wait!”
All heads swiveled toward Anya, who propped herself up, panting. “Spike stays.”
“What?” said Buffy.
“What?” echoed Spike.
“I- hate- men- and I’m going to- aah- list all the ways I’ve tortured them- ungh- and Xander’s- not here and Spike- has a penis-”
Though it may have been the fluorescents, Spike seemed to pale. After a second Buffy prodded him forward.
Anya grabbed his hand and squeezed. “882: I- aah- disemboweled…”