(Untitled)

Mar 01, 2006 18:25

Some nights are just like this: all about sitting and smoking and drinking and smiling. Even though his mind likes to be busy, Spike doesn't need the distraction of a book or a newspaper or a deck of cards: he's got a lot going on in there, and most of it? It's fucking great.Idly, as he sits and smokes and drinks and smiles, his fingers take a few ( Read more... )

beth, stella bonnaro, spike spiegel

Leave a comment

Comments 52

stbethadettes March 2 2006, 03:00:53 UTC
Smiling already (or maybe she's just still smiling), Beth leans on the back of his chair.

"Better keep the bounty hunting job. You'd get nowhere as an architect."

Reply

not_that_spike March 2 2006, 03:09:50 UTC
"I think I hear a voice." He glances up and to the left, like he's concentrating hard on something unseen. "Wait, it's telling me something. It's saying..." There's a pause, strictly for dramatic effect. "It's saying don't give up your day job. Shit, had I only known, I wouldn't have handed in my official bounty hunting license half an hour ago."

Spike rests the toe of his shoe on the chair to his left, pushing it back from the table. "I think this particular chair has your name on it, ma'am. Care to join one hell of a lousy architect for a drink?" Reaching behind him, his hand finds her arm. Yeah, just as warm as it was earlier; about halfway up her arm his hand meets a familiar piece of fabric. She's wearing one of the shirts he got on Outpost 12 from the oversolicitous salesman there in the menswear department.

Grinning to himself, he wonders if she's wearing anything else. Well, hell, of course she is: there's that whole no-naked-in-the-bar rule. But in his daydream she sure as hell isn't.

Reply

stbethadettes March 2 2006, 03:31:12 UTC
"As long as it's you. I don't usually go for lousy architects."

She bends to kiss the side of his face, then sits in the chair he pushed away from the table, and swipes one of the cigarettes still out.

It's her first in over 24 hours and yeah, she's been counting. It's fucking hard to quit and while she's not going to bitch about it, she's not going to pretend it's otherwise.

And maybe she's wrong, but she's pretty sure Spike's not quite the chimney he was before the doctor visit, too.

Reply

not_that_spike March 2 2006, 03:43:34 UTC
"Good thing you didn't need me to build you a house." He winks at her (blink, blink) and grins and holds his lighter up to her cigarette. The flame always makes her eyes sparkle; it's one of the first things he noticed about her the first night they met when she took him up on his first offer of a smoke. He thought she was damn pretty then, but now... well, she's fucking gorgeous. And not just because she loves him, either. She just is: she's got an inner light and not everyone does. He knows he used to have something like that a long time ago, and then he lost it.

It's just now coming back, and it's all thanks to her.

Even if he is a lousy architect. "But lucky for you, I'm a hell of a pilot." He glances around the bar, then lowers his voice. "And I'm also really good with my hands. I heard a rumor to that effect, anyhow." He rests one of those really good hands on her thigh: her jeans are impossibly soft.

He's just kind of delighted by almost everything right now. He's not this easy every day.

Reply


learningtosee March 2 2006, 04:07:25 UTC
Stella's trying to get herself in as good a mood as Spike seems to be, so when she spots him she decided to walk over and talk to him. Perhaps cheerfullness is contagious?

She tries to sneak up behind him intending to cover his eyes and say guess who. But it's Spike, he probably knows she's there. Still, ya gotta try everything once.

Sneak, Stella sneak!

Reply

not_that_spike March 2 2006, 04:14:24 UTC
What the...

It's all instinct: in a flash, he's on his feet and his hands are around whoever's wrists and twisting them around and there, got you, you bastard, no one sneaks up on me and threatens me where I live and...

"Oh, fuck."

The very next thing he does is help Stella up off the floor. "Shit, Stella, I'm really sorry, but you shouldn't do that to me. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Reply

learningtosee March 2 2006, 04:19:22 UTC
"What... just happened?" She's quite dazed fine but, dazed. One moment sneaking, next the world spins then there's a rather babbling apology from Spike. "I'm alright. That was... wow. Sorry, I should have thought that though." She says as he helps her up. She rubbs her bottom and chuckles. "I promise never to do that again, sorry. You okay?" She knew he wasn't hurt but if she startled him she would feel bad.

Reply

not_that_spike March 2 2006, 04:42:16 UTC
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He doesn't know where to put his hands now: they're on her arms, on her shoulders, on her head. "Turn around. Spin around. Let me make sure you're okay." Even though she says she is, he still wants to make sure: sometimes, he acts just on instinct.

"I... damn, I'm real sorry, Stella. You didn't know. You didn't know. I'm a... I do martial arts. What you did? Kicked all my years of training into high gear, put me on alert. One of the first lessons is how not to let someone sneak up on you from behind. I... that side of me just took over."

Pulling out a chair, he motions for her to sit. "Fuck. I'm... I feel bad. Get you anything?"

Spike shakes his head: he hasn't had cause to use force here in a year and a half. Stella's lucky he didn't pull out his gun, start shooting, and ask questions later.

Reply


Leave a comment

Up