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sb_fag_ends2015-10-28 03:04 pm
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Prompt: Who was that Cat Creature I Saw You with Last Night? (fluff)
Prompt: Who was that Cat Creature I Saw You with Last Night?
Setting: S7, the end of "First Date"
Words: 410
Rating: PG
A/N: So, remember how Xander's date had cat eyes? Yeah, that's the missing link.
A/N2: Soap bubbles are fluffy.
“Because I’m not ready for you to not be here,” Buffy says.
Spike isn’t sure how to take that. He knows what he wants it to mean, but he also knows better than to hope for anything from Buffy. He lets it lie there. “And the principal? How’s he fit in?”
Buffy looks at him, and he knows she’s trying to read him too. They’re so careful around each other these days, so tentative. Eventually she says, “He’s on our side. Right now, that’s all I can ask of him.”
“Right.”
They sit in silence a little longer, and then Spike says, “I noticed there were still dishes in the sink.”
“Oh, god, I better get to those.” She climbs to her feet with a groan.
Spike follows. “No, I meant I’ll do them, Buffy. You go on and rest.”
“You don’t even make dishes.” She reconsiders. “Okay, you do, but –”
“If I’m going to be sticking around, I should probably be earning my keep.”
“No –” Buffy stops, and smiles a little. “Do them together?” she says, and motions to the kitchen with a jerk of her head.
Spike smiles back. “All right, but I’ll dry. Vampires and dishpan hands are not a pretty sight.”
He follows her into the kitchen, and Buffy fills the sink with soapy water. She hands him the first clean dish, and says, “Mom used to tell me and Dawn that if we’d just stop fighting about whose turn it was and do them together, it would take less than half the time. Of course, we were trying to get out of doing it, not trying to take the job...”
“Your mother always was a smart lady.”
“Yeah.” Buffy looks down at the sink. “I miss her so much still.”
“I don’t blame you. She was a good woman. Strong.” Spike nudges her shoulder with his. “There’s a lot of her in you.”
Buffy leans into him, only a little, her shoulder resting against his arm. Then she lets out a sigh, and starts on the next dish. They wash and dry the rest without another word, their hands occasionally touching without any hesitation on either of their parts. When they’re done, Buffy rests her hand on his arm.
“Good night,” she says.
“Good night,” Spike replies, and watches her leave. He doesn’t know what part he has to play in everything that’s coming, but he does know this: The First doesn’t stand a chance.
Setting: S7, the end of "First Date"
Words: 410
Rating: PG
A/N: So, remember how Xander's date had cat eyes? Yeah, that's the missing link.
A/N2: Soap bubbles are fluffy.
“Because I’m not ready for you to not be here,” Buffy says.
Spike isn’t sure how to take that. He knows what he wants it to mean, but he also knows better than to hope for anything from Buffy. He lets it lie there. “And the principal? How’s he fit in?”
Buffy looks at him, and he knows she’s trying to read him too. They’re so careful around each other these days, so tentative. Eventually she says, “He’s on our side. Right now, that’s all I can ask of him.”
“Right.”
They sit in silence a little longer, and then Spike says, “I noticed there were still dishes in the sink.”
“Oh, god, I better get to those.” She climbs to her feet with a groan.
Spike follows. “No, I meant I’ll do them, Buffy. You go on and rest.”
“You don’t even make dishes.” She reconsiders. “Okay, you do, but –”
“If I’m going to be sticking around, I should probably be earning my keep.”
“No –” Buffy stops, and smiles a little. “Do them together?” she says, and motions to the kitchen with a jerk of her head.
Spike smiles back. “All right, but I’ll dry. Vampires and dishpan hands are not a pretty sight.”
He follows her into the kitchen, and Buffy fills the sink with soapy water. She hands him the first clean dish, and says, “Mom used to tell me and Dawn that if we’d just stop fighting about whose turn it was and do them together, it would take less than half the time. Of course, we were trying to get out of doing it, not trying to take the job...”
“Your mother always was a smart lady.”
“Yeah.” Buffy looks down at the sink. “I miss her so much still.”
“I don’t blame you. She was a good woman. Strong.” Spike nudges her shoulder with his. “There’s a lot of her in you.”
Buffy leans into him, only a little, her shoulder resting against his arm. Then she lets out a sigh, and starts on the next dish. They wash and dry the rest without another word, their hands occasionally touching without any hesitation on either of their parts. When they’re done, Buffy rests her hand on his arm.
“Good night,” she says.
“Good night,” Spike replies, and watches her leave. He doesn’t know what part he has to play in everything that’s coming, but he does know this: The First doesn’t stand a chance.
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And I'm glad that a fondness for Joyce is something the two of them can share (unlike Bangel fanfic, where Joyce is the enemy to be overcome or to be wooed to Angel's cause, or simply not mentioned at all.)
Lovely story, and you communicate the difficulties of that period so well for both characters with your usual simplicity - so much is said in what isn't said, in the spaces between: "They’re so careful around each other these days, so tentative."
What else could they be, given the circumstances? As everyone notes time and again in convos and meta, this isn't real life, this is a Slayer and Vampire, it's fantasy; well that's the thing isn't it as far as the characters are concerned? Both rebels, both rule-breakers, but that means there are no maps to this uncharted territory they must traverse.
The more I think about this story the more I realize that this isn't really "fluff" at all, it's quite poignant; there's melancholy and hope mixed up with one another.
ETA: so what do the cat eyes have to do with this fic, anyway?
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