Little Plastic Snowflakes (fluff, mostly gen, some B/A)
Written for Fluff-A-Thon 2007 (and I am quite remorseful for it being so late) - sorry, semby!
Title: Little Plastic Snowflakes
Rating: G
Characters: Buffy, Angel, Willow, Giles, Xander
Pairing: B/A
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everybody wandering through the snow belongs to Joss.
Summary: A snowbound cabin, a rescue party that didn't think things through, and a vampire with a good grasp of public relations.
“I feel like I’ve been trapped inside a snowglobe.” Willow turned away from the window, scowling. This was the fourth heavy snowfall in almost as many days, and the drifts around the cabin were getting decidedly deeper. Outside, an iron-grey sky was busily shedding huge, fluffy flakes, and although it was only mid-afternoon, the sun was nowhere to be seen.
“This is better than a snowglobe, Wil, admit it. We’re not living in a plastic Swiss chalet, are we? Proof positive.” Buffy was stretched out on a couch, a four-year old copy of Cosmo on her lap. She was keeping busy by sneering at out-of-date shoes, but this wasn’t doing much to entertain Willow, who was kicking morosely at the heavy log timbers that made up the wall of the cabin.
“I feel like grumping. Let me grump. If we were in Switzerland, we’d have chocolate. Instead we have a year’s supply of pork and beans, and some really suspect cheese.”
“But it would be plastic chocolate. Because of the being inside the snowglobe thing.” Buffy put the magazine down over her face, and consequently her next few words were rather muffled. “I’d take plastic chocolate right about now. If I see another bean, I’m going to…”
“We’re in the back end of beyond and there is no chocolate to be had. I can’t believe you talked me into going to a place called Moldavia. Who thought that was a good idea?”
“It was hardly my plan for a dream vacation! Blame the stupid vampire king who decided he had to try and one-up Dracula. It's not every vampire who feel it necessary to play to all the cliches. This guy even had the crumbling castle and the terrified peasantry.”
“Yeah, well…” Willow’s retort was cut off by a pounding at the door of the cabin. “Holy crap. We have…visitors?”
Buffy was already on her feet, stake at the ready. “Dark enough out there for vamps. We’ve been staying here for eight days. Is that enough to require an invite?”
“Yup. Well...I think so, anyway. I can’t be sure, who knows what rules apply to Moldavian vampires?”
The thumping began again, but this time a muffled male voice accompanied it. “Buffy? Open up if you’re in there. Please be in there. We’re about to turn into very ugly ice sculptures.”
Willow brightened instantly. “Xander? That’s Xander!” She scooted past Buffy, ducking under the upraised stake, and flung the door open to reveal Xander’s figure at the door. He was in a puffy, powder-blue coat that looked like it was trying to devour him, tall boots, and a pair of decrepit snowshoes. He pushed his way in, and flung his arms around Willow, who promptly howled at the cold, damp hug. Two more people followed him in through the door.
“Giles? What are you doing here? And...Angel?” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “This looks suspiciously like a rescue party. Tell me - are you a rescue party?” Giles coughed and looked at the floor, and Angel abruptly became shifty-eyed, confirming her suspicions. “What do the three of you think you’re doing, checking up on me? This was my job and Willow’s to do!”
“Buffy, please.” Giles held out his hands imploringly. “Can we get our wet coats off and warm up before you start yelling at us? I would be very grateful for some hot tea.”
“Tea, we have. And some pork and beans. And then, there will be explanations.”
******
“So you see,” concluded Angel, “With us hearing all these stories of dragons as big as mountains, plus the pack of undead cannibal wolves, and the ghouls which raven and dismember, we figured we’d better come give you a hand. Especially since we hadn’t heard from you for a few days. I mean...ghouls...they’re really...they can be...”
“Bitey,” interjected Xander. “Ghouls are bitey. And occasionally covered in slime.”
He shut up hastily as Buffy glared at all three men, seated in a row on the sofa. Willow attempted to intercede.
“We couldn’t get an email out to you because of the weather. And, as you may have noticed, this cabin is a bit on the rustic side. No phone, and our cells haven’t worked since we got out into the mountains. And, uh...I’m sorry to tell you this, but we haven’t seen even one little ghoul. Not even a goblin. And certainly no cannibal wolves.”
“In point of fact,” said Buffy, her teeth clenched, “I staked our so called “vampire king” the second day we were out here. And it was the second day instead of the first day because I was feeling a little jet-laggy.”
“It wasn’t much of a fight, really.” Willow paused momentarily to think. “In fact, it wasn’t a fight at all. He seemed pretty freaked out. For the thirty seconds he had to react, anyway.”
The rescue party on the sofa was by now visibly deflated.
“It would appear we overestimated the danger you’d be facing,” said Giles. “But it wasn’t because of any lack of confidence in you, Buffy. We simply thought you might like a little bit of extra help.”
Buffy flopped on the spare armchair, which creaked alarmingly. “I suppose you’re forgiven. But only if you’ve brought food. We’ve been thinking of cannibalism as the better option at this point.”
Xander held up a backpack, which looked ready to burst. “Supplies. Featuring chocolate prominently.” He flung himself to one side as Willow rushed him, hands outstretched. “Yipes! Hey, Wil, easy!”
********
The fire had begun to die down, and the sound of faint snoring could be heard from various corners of the room where sleeping bodies lay. Giles was stretched out on the sofa, his long legs dangling awkwardly off the end. Willow and Xander had supplemented Willow’s rickety iron bed with a few more quilts and Xander’s now-dry coat, and were curled on it like puppies. Only Angel and Buffy remained awake, sitting on a rug made from a very furry, very unidentifiable animal and gazing into the red embers.
Angel was still trying to defend the rescue party’s motivations. “You just have to trust these peasants, Buffy. They’re generally the ones who can tell the difference between regular wolves and undead cannibal wolves. So when that little old man with no teeth told us that you and Willow would likely be faced with a lot more than you went out to handle, we got concerned.”
Buffy snorted and snuggled closer into the curve of Angel’s arm. “He was probably part of the PR team this vamp put together. Seriously, it was as slick as anything I’ve ever seen in L.A. I bet the next thing he planned was to issue a press release and then finagle an invitation to the Emmys.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re safe. And I guess it’s not so horrible, being snowbound for a few days with us?” His voice was coaxing, and Buffy couldn’t help but laugh.
“Not so bad, I guess. It’s nice to have a break from the next apocalypse to just relax a little bit. And I have to admit, the company is good. We can play chess. And think deep thoughts. Maybe Giles has a pipe he can smoke. Ooh, and we can all grow long hermity beards.”
“Uh, Buffy - I can’t grow a beard.”
“It’s ok, Will and I can’t really grow them either. So we’ll make Giles and Xander grow ones twice as long…” She chattered happily as Angel listened, his cheek pressed against her hair.
Outside, the wind continued to toss flurries of snow against the window. A lone undead cannibal wolf paused at the sight of the cabin's small light, then continued about his business silently.
Title: Little Plastic Snowflakes
Rating: G
Characters: Buffy, Angel, Willow, Giles, Xander
Pairing: B/A
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everybody wandering through the snow belongs to Joss.
Summary: A snowbound cabin, a rescue party that didn't think things through, and a vampire with a good grasp of public relations.
“I feel like I’ve been trapped inside a snowglobe.” Willow turned away from the window, scowling. This was the fourth heavy snowfall in almost as many days, and the drifts around the cabin were getting decidedly deeper. Outside, an iron-grey sky was busily shedding huge, fluffy flakes, and although it was only mid-afternoon, the sun was nowhere to be seen.
“This is better than a snowglobe, Wil, admit it. We’re not living in a plastic Swiss chalet, are we? Proof positive.” Buffy was stretched out on a couch, a four-year old copy of Cosmo on her lap. She was keeping busy by sneering at out-of-date shoes, but this wasn’t doing much to entertain Willow, who was kicking morosely at the heavy log timbers that made up the wall of the cabin.
“I feel like grumping. Let me grump. If we were in Switzerland, we’d have chocolate. Instead we have a year’s supply of pork and beans, and some really suspect cheese.”
“But it would be plastic chocolate. Because of the being inside the snowglobe thing.” Buffy put the magazine down over her face, and consequently her next few words were rather muffled. “I’d take plastic chocolate right about now. If I see another bean, I’m going to…”
“We’re in the back end of beyond and there is no chocolate to be had. I can’t believe you talked me into going to a place called Moldavia. Who thought that was a good idea?”
“It was hardly my plan for a dream vacation! Blame the stupid vampire king who decided he had to try and one-up Dracula. It's not every vampire who feel it necessary to play to all the cliches. This guy even had the crumbling castle and the terrified peasantry.”
“Yeah, well…” Willow’s retort was cut off by a pounding at the door of the cabin. “Holy crap. We have…visitors?”
Buffy was already on her feet, stake at the ready. “Dark enough out there for vamps. We’ve been staying here for eight days. Is that enough to require an invite?”
“Yup. Well...I think so, anyway. I can’t be sure, who knows what rules apply to Moldavian vampires?”
The thumping began again, but this time a muffled male voice accompanied it. “Buffy? Open up if you’re in there. Please be in there. We’re about to turn into very ugly ice sculptures.”
Willow brightened instantly. “Xander? That’s Xander!” She scooted past Buffy, ducking under the upraised stake, and flung the door open to reveal Xander’s figure at the door. He was in a puffy, powder-blue coat that looked like it was trying to devour him, tall boots, and a pair of decrepit snowshoes. He pushed his way in, and flung his arms around Willow, who promptly howled at the cold, damp hug. Two more people followed him in through the door.
“Giles? What are you doing here? And...Angel?” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “This looks suspiciously like a rescue party. Tell me - are you a rescue party?” Giles coughed and looked at the floor, and Angel abruptly became shifty-eyed, confirming her suspicions. “What do the three of you think you’re doing, checking up on me? This was my job and Willow’s to do!”
“Buffy, please.” Giles held out his hands imploringly. “Can we get our wet coats off and warm up before you start yelling at us? I would be very grateful for some hot tea.”
“Tea, we have. And some pork and beans. And then, there will be explanations.”
******
“So you see,” concluded Angel, “With us hearing all these stories of dragons as big as mountains, plus the pack of undead cannibal wolves, and the ghouls which raven and dismember, we figured we’d better come give you a hand. Especially since we hadn’t heard from you for a few days. I mean...ghouls...they’re really...they can be...”
“Bitey,” interjected Xander. “Ghouls are bitey. And occasionally covered in slime.”
He shut up hastily as Buffy glared at all three men, seated in a row on the sofa. Willow attempted to intercede.
“We couldn’t get an email out to you because of the weather. And, as you may have noticed, this cabin is a bit on the rustic side. No phone, and our cells haven’t worked since we got out into the mountains. And, uh...I’m sorry to tell you this, but we haven’t seen even one little ghoul. Not even a goblin. And certainly no cannibal wolves.”
“In point of fact,” said Buffy, her teeth clenched, “I staked our so called “vampire king” the second day we were out here. And it was the second day instead of the first day because I was feeling a little jet-laggy.”
“It wasn’t much of a fight, really.” Willow paused momentarily to think. “In fact, it wasn’t a fight at all. He seemed pretty freaked out. For the thirty seconds he had to react, anyway.”
The rescue party on the sofa was by now visibly deflated.
“It would appear we overestimated the danger you’d be facing,” said Giles. “But it wasn’t because of any lack of confidence in you, Buffy. We simply thought you might like a little bit of extra help.”
Buffy flopped on the spare armchair, which creaked alarmingly. “I suppose you’re forgiven. But only if you’ve brought food. We’ve been thinking of cannibalism as the better option at this point.”
Xander held up a backpack, which looked ready to burst. “Supplies. Featuring chocolate prominently.” He flung himself to one side as Willow rushed him, hands outstretched. “Yipes! Hey, Wil, easy!”
********
The fire had begun to die down, and the sound of faint snoring could be heard from various corners of the room where sleeping bodies lay. Giles was stretched out on the sofa, his long legs dangling awkwardly off the end. Willow and Xander had supplemented Willow’s rickety iron bed with a few more quilts and Xander’s now-dry coat, and were curled on it like puppies. Only Angel and Buffy remained awake, sitting on a rug made from a very furry, very unidentifiable animal and gazing into the red embers.
Angel was still trying to defend the rescue party’s motivations. “You just have to trust these peasants, Buffy. They’re generally the ones who can tell the difference between regular wolves and undead cannibal wolves. So when that little old man with no teeth told us that you and Willow would likely be faced with a lot more than you went out to handle, we got concerned.”
Buffy snorted and snuggled closer into the curve of Angel’s arm. “He was probably part of the PR team this vamp put together. Seriously, it was as slick as anything I’ve ever seen in L.A. I bet the next thing he planned was to issue a press release and then finagle an invitation to the Emmys.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re safe. And I guess it’s not so horrible, being snowbound for a few days with us?” His voice was coaxing, and Buffy couldn’t help but laugh.
“Not so bad, I guess. It’s nice to have a break from the next apocalypse to just relax a little bit. And I have to admit, the company is good. We can play chess. And think deep thoughts. Maybe Giles has a pipe he can smoke. Ooh, and we can all grow long hermity beards.”
“Uh, Buffy - I can’t grow a beard.”
“It’s ok, Will and I can’t really grow them either. So we’ll make Giles and Xander grow ones twice as long…” She chattered happily as Angel listened, his cheek pressed against her hair.
Outside, the wind continued to toss flurries of snow against the window. A lone undead cannibal wolf paused at the sight of the cabin's small light, then continued about his business silently.