Once in a Blue Moon (PG, postseries)
Title Once in a Blue Moon
Author Brutti ma buoni
Rating PG
Words 380
Prompt Eclipse
Setting Post-series. More of the non-chronological escapades of Rulesverse Spuffy and the latest apocalypse. This is towards the end of their mission, after Ancient History and Prehistoric, lately posted here.
For reasons bordering on the blatantly obvious, Buffy didn’t see Spike in sunglasses all that often. Goggles, for driving insanely in the midday sun, yes. Occasional posing in wraparound shades when undercover, yes. But outside, in the fresh air, and with the sun out, never.
He was also absolutely never seen sunbathing.
But observe: the towel, the beach umbrella, the paperback book. The smug look. The slatherings of sunscreen. The very, very small swimwear.
Buffy kind of wanted to smack him for being so foolhardy. Also to join him on the towel and enjoy the feeling.
First, she checked her phone. Because sunbathing during the actual Apocalypse would be just embarrassing. But no: reports were flowing in. Faith had taken out the doomsday prophet. Kennedy’s pincer movement on his followers was going mostly to plan. The Slayers were so all over this Apocalypse.
So Buffy slid her own shades on, slipped out of her bathrobe and exposed her bikini-ed body to the virtually total eclipse.
Spike passed her a long, frosted glass, containing - aside from an umbrella and a cherry - what turned out on blind tasting to be a hefty dose of neat bourbon. She coughed, frantically. “Dammit! You know I can’t drink that stuff.”
She felt him shrug. He who makes the cocktails makes the choices. The eclipse was complete.
He chuckled into the darkness and silence once her coughing subsided. “Don’t know about you, Slayer, but I’m enjoying this noonday sunshine. Wanna celebrate?”
They had a bare couple of minutes of total darkness. So no, Spike, there would not be outdoor sex with a dusty ending. But she ducked into his kiss while the darkness lasted, and luxuriated.
She could feel him tense, as the daylight started to return. “Sorry, love. Think our time’s almost up. Looks like the gang saved the world for puppies and sunshine and all that crap.”
“Mmmm, and when I was just getting accustomed...” Buffy unwound herself reluctantly. “Back to the suite?”
His profile was visible now, in the halflight. He wasn’t hurrying, the macho fool, but he didn’t waste any more time than to throw her a nod and grin, and wrap his arm round her shoulder as they turned back to the hotel.
Saving the world was a tough gig. But someone had to do it.
*
Author Brutti ma buoni
Rating PG
Words 380
Prompt Eclipse
Setting Post-series. More of the non-chronological escapades of Rulesverse Spuffy and the latest apocalypse. This is towards the end of their mission, after Ancient History and Prehistoric, lately posted here.
For reasons bordering on the blatantly obvious, Buffy didn’t see Spike in sunglasses all that often. Goggles, for driving insanely in the midday sun, yes. Occasional posing in wraparound shades when undercover, yes. But outside, in the fresh air, and with the sun out, never.
He was also absolutely never seen sunbathing.
But observe: the towel, the beach umbrella, the paperback book. The smug look. The slatherings of sunscreen. The very, very small swimwear.
Buffy kind of wanted to smack him for being so foolhardy. Also to join him on the towel and enjoy the feeling.
First, she checked her phone. Because sunbathing during the actual Apocalypse would be just embarrassing. But no: reports were flowing in. Faith had taken out the doomsday prophet. Kennedy’s pincer movement on his followers was going mostly to plan. The Slayers were so all over this Apocalypse.
So Buffy slid her own shades on, slipped out of her bathrobe and exposed her bikini-ed body to the virtually total eclipse.
Spike passed her a long, frosted glass, containing - aside from an umbrella and a cherry - what turned out on blind tasting to be a hefty dose of neat bourbon. She coughed, frantically. “Dammit! You know I can’t drink that stuff.”
She felt him shrug. He who makes the cocktails makes the choices. The eclipse was complete.
He chuckled into the darkness and silence once her coughing subsided. “Don’t know about you, Slayer, but I’m enjoying this noonday sunshine. Wanna celebrate?”
They had a bare couple of minutes of total darkness. So no, Spike, there would not be outdoor sex with a dusty ending. But she ducked into his kiss while the darkness lasted, and luxuriated.
She could feel him tense, as the daylight started to return. “Sorry, love. Think our time’s almost up. Looks like the gang saved the world for puppies and sunshine and all that crap.”
“Mmmm, and when I was just getting accustomed...” Buffy unwound herself reluctantly. “Back to the suite?”
His profile was visible now, in the halflight. He wasn’t hurrying, the macho fool, but he didn’t waste any more time than to throw her a nod and grin, and wrap his arm round her shoulder as they turned back to the hotel.
Saving the world was a tough gig. But someone had to do it.
*