( Enjointment Ritual )
“How’d you do it?”
Perhaps he could turn that passion down a darker path. He leaned back in his chair, imagining her in leather, pants so tight they might as well have been painted on, and a bodice. Surely handcuffs or a whip wouldn’t be enough to drive her off. Her little spy game required her to return to his bed to learn whatever she was after. “Do what?”
She played her part perfectly, becoming even more agitated at his amused tone. Oh, this was fun. “Guess who’s in charge of the Talent Show.”
“I take it that you have that honor.”
“Only because you somehow got out of it. What did you do, threaten to kill him?”
Giles hid his discomfort behind a sip of tea as he wondered how thorough a dossier she’d been given. He wasn’t above murder, not when it was necessary. Did she know or was she merely guessing? “Not at all. I merely suggested that cleaning up the detritus of the scanning project was keeping me too occupied to allow me to pursue other interests.”
“Don’t try to jive me. I tried a similar argument. He told me to make time.”
“Perhaps I’m more persuasive than you?”
Jenny took the chair across from him and leaned over the table. “What is it? Come on. You can tell me.”
Giles placed his teacup and saucer on the table before spreading his empty hands between them. “I’d ask what I might expect to receive in recompense but in fact I have nothing, as you’d say, on him.”
“You know something or you did something, and I’m not leaving until you tell me.”
“You know how much I enjoy your company, but unless you intend to miss your next class, you will, in fact, need to leave in, oh, about a half-hour or so.”
She stood and glared down at him. “You haven’t heard the last of this.” Oh, yes, he would definitely bring out the whip next time.
“I look forward to your next little chat on the subject.”
Title: Mark It With 'D'
Fandom: BtVS
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's fun to play little games with children.
Character: Drusilla
Concrit: Please, in Comments
Disclaimer: They aren’t mine, not yet, but they will be… once I’ve taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha!
Word Count: 195
Put it in the oven and mark it with 'D' and bake that cake for baby and me. The red words were so bright against the eggshell white of the walls that they almost seemed to be shouting. Drusilla had some vague thought that it should be 'B' rather than 'D' but that didn't make any sense at all. Death began with the letter 'D'.
Mark it with 'D'. Drusilla's hands were still red, wet enough to mark the girl, the one who had taught her the rhyme. “Where are you?” Drusilla didn't let on that she knew where the girl was even though she could hear the rat-a-tat-tat of a heart pounding on the other side of the closet door: it was fun to play little games with children. Mark it with 'D' and bake that cake. The words seemed to be a command.
Bake that cake. It didn't make any sense. Getting the child into the oven would be very difficult. All the pans would have to be taken out. And afterward the girl wouldn't be edible at all. Bake that cake. The words were quite insistent. Drusilla supposed she'd have to obey.
Title: Unusual
Fandom: BtVS
Summary: What Kendra learned in Sunnydale
Rating: PG
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: unusual
She'd been a girl when he'd come for her. Mother and father had given her up, had told her it was an honor. She never saw them again.
Each morning she woke at dawn and ran fifty miles before breakfast. She could perform all of the katas perfectly by the time she was twelve, although free-form fighting took her longer to master. She could cite, often word for word, the ancient tomes without referring back to the original documents. When she was sixteen, she killed her first demon.
Before Sunnydale, Kendra never stopped to think that her life was unusual.
Title: For a very important date…
Fandom: BtVS
Summary: Anya’s been reading Alice in Wonderland
Rating: G
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: late.
“Rabbits and cards and painted roses?” Anya dropped the book. It hit the table with a loud thud. “Children read this?”
Giles closed the cash register and wished the customer a good day. “Alice in Wonderland? It has a different connotation outside of the demonic community.”
“Do you know what 'I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date.' means in Y'gar'esh?”
Giles removed his glasses and pulled out a handkerchief. “That's not one of my strongest demon tongues.”
“You can't translate it makes it okay for innocent little children to read about blood rituals and poisonings and... and... rabbits?”
Title: Late
Fandom: BtVS
Summary: In Sunnydale, you shouldn’t be out after dark.
Rating: PG
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Note: I think it's fairly obvious that this is set in Wish!verse.
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: late.
The sun is setting. You stare at the empty parking lot. Cordelia's car is gone. You'll have to walk.
Main Street is empty. You want to run but know it'll draw attention. You walk as quickly as you can. Your eyes are on the ground: if you don't see them, maybe they won't see you. You crash into someone. “Excuse me. I'm late.”
Your way is blocked. It's a little nobody from school. “Willow?” She's wearing leather. Why would she be wearing... Wait. Didn't she die?
“Late? Oh, I don't think so.” Her face becomes a monster's mask. “Not yet.”
Fandom: BtVS
Summary: after Ethan has been told that Rupert is dead.
Rating: PG
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Prompt: Keats' The Eve of St. Agnes has the most amazing line: “music, yearning like a God in pain”.
Note: Set in my Lotus in Muddy Water series.
Note: Sequel to Zombies on the Beach.
Note: You might think I used “gone” for “dead” because I watched Hogfather the night before last, but I couldn't possibly comment. ;-)
Word Count: 285
Ethan's legs drew him through the sand. He moved slowly and clumsily, as if an external force were dragging him forward. Behind him... Ethan stumbled, half-falling before continuing on. Nothing chased after, but Ethan continued to flee. How long had it been? Minutes? Days? Salt itched his skin where the tears had dried.
The sun had risen out over the sea. The sky, bright and blue above him, gave lie to the surrounding fog. There was a thick mist, not quite visible, between Ethan and the world. It pushed everything away, creating such an unimaginable distance that nothing could touch him. He'd left the Slayer and her Watcher behind him. The Watcher who wasn't Rupert. Ethan's legs gave way below him. He fell onto the sand.
Rupert was gone. Dead. Gone forever.
The first time Ethan had seen him, Ripper had been laughing in delight. Ethan's heart had broken that night. That first Ripper – the one who'd become Ethan's lodestone, always drawing Ethan to him – that Ripper stepped out of the mist but didn't stay. He became another Ripper and then another, shifting from form to form, always Ripper but never the same Ripper. He was the Ripper who'd stared, wide-eyed, after they'd taken ecstasy and fucked till dawn, the Ripper whose face said Ethan was beautiful, was beloved. The Ripper who'd lied. The Ripper who'd abandoned Ethan. The Ripper whose punches, sharp and precise, were more than just physical pain. The Ripper who'd given him to the toy soldier boys. The Ripper he'd loved. Each and every one of them was the Ripper he'd loved.
Ethan reached out, yearning. It felt like a knife tearing through his heart. Oh Gods. The pain.
Title: Plummeting from the Nest
Fandom: BtVS
Summary: Wes doesn’t feel ready to be a Watcher.
Rating: G
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday – fire – but this week's prompt is flexible. To get to fire I started with the Tarot card of the Hermit, who holds a lantern which is illuminated by a flame.
Word Count: 100
Wesley had meant to be a scholar, a Hermit whose light would illuminate the work of others. Father had other ideas. He'd arranged for Wesley to become a Watcher.
Wesley had studied day and night, learned everything there was to learn about Sunnydale, and had even taken the advanced training that had pitted him against vampires. None of it had helped. He was terrified. Men who had trained their whole lives had failed at this task. He would have turned back if he could, but Father...
Surely the Council wouldn't have assigned him to the task if he wasn't prepared.
Title: Zombies on the Beach
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday – fire – but the prompt is flexible is sunlight -> sun -> great big fireball -> fire.
Summary: Ethan learning that Giles is dead.
Note: In my Lotus in Muddy Water series.
Rating: PG
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Word Count: 100
Faith stared at the corpses, waiting for just one of them to start moving again, wondering if she could get away with decking a human, when he chose to speak. “It's a shame Ripper wasn't here. Ripper always adored the classics.”
Aidan was between them before Faith could hit Ethan. “You hadn't heard?” Faith gave Aidan a sharp look. He was speaking gently to this asshole?
Ethan raised an arm against the sunlight. “No.”
“Rupert Giles is dead.”
Ethan looked as pale as the zombies had the night before. Maybe she didn't need to punch him.
Title: Lighting the Tree
Fandom: BtVS
Summary: Ethan’s looking for a bit of extra attention. What a surprise. ;-)
Rating: G
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: fire
Note: Not necessarily a sequel to Of Old Mystics, but I was thinking of that most excellent Giles/Ethan tale when I wrote this. I highly recommend it ("it" being "Of Old Mystics" although I do very much like my own story as well!)
Word Count: 132
Feeling a surge of Ethan's magic, Rupert stepped quickly into the darkened living room. “What are you doing?”
Ethan gestured toward the tree, decorated but unlit. “There obviously needs to be flame. It's traditional.”
It sounded sensible, but Rupert knew Ethan. “I'd rather prefer to have a tree this year, and not a charred stick.”
Ethan turned away, but Rupert could feel his smile. “One little fire imp and I'm never forgiven.”
Wrapping his arms around Ethan, Rupert replied, “I merely said I'd prefer not to repeat the experience.”
“Well, what do you suggest then? That I never perform magic again?”
“Why don't we light the tree together?” As they joined their magic into one, Ethan leaned into his husband and purred, and Rupert knew this is what he'd wanted all along.
It should have been five-by-five: fighting, fucking, and nothing could touch her. Nobody had told her the demons would fight back, but she was okay with that. It made winning all the sweeter. And nobody had told her she wasn't the only Slayer, but she could deal with that too. If she wasn't the first, she could be the baddest.
But nobody had told her she'd get her Watcher killed.
Nobody had told her the jostling of the train would feel so much like being back in the swamp, her foot caught on who the hell knew what, drowning as the gators gathered 'round.
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