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Fic: Grass-Fed Is Always Greener, Buffy/Spike, G
Tuesday, April 7th, 2015 09:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rahirahGrass-Fed Is Always Greener
By Barb C
Prompt: Spike turns vegetarian
Characters: Buffy/Spike
Rating: G
Words: 549
Notes: Barbverse, set several months after the end of POM.
Spike had never expected that working for the white hats would be a stroll among the tombstones. If treading the narrow, stony path of virtue were easy, it'd hardly be a fit gift to lay at the feet of his lady-love, would it? Giving up killing, living on pig's blood, daily defying his very nature for her sake – a struggle, but worth it, no question. But this particular sacrifice was one he'd never signed up for.
The aforementioned lady-love plunked a casserole dish full of something resembling boiled hedge clippings down on the table, and spooned a heaping helping onto his plate, right next to the pale, soggy slab of... what the hell was that, anyway? Spike took a sniff, which proved less than informative, and stared at it in dismay. He prodded the quivering hunk of goo with the tip of his knife, hoping it would take the hint and, properly chastened, transform itself into a rare steak. When that failed to produce the desired results, he turned a reproachful look on Buffy instead. "And what is this, exactly?"
"Tofurkey and three-bean salad with steamed kale," she replied brightly. "I'm trying out your idea."
Dragging wodges of kale around on his plate didn't make it look any more appetizing. "My idea?"
"Yeah, like you said the other day." Buffy beamed at him. "The Meq'onith are herbivores. They won't even talk to us if we quote, 'smell like death,' unquote. If the Meq'onith won't talk to us, then the deal with the Fyarls will go south. And if the deal with the Fyarls goes south, we have to start all over." She popped a forkful of rabbit fodder into her mouth, assuming a determined-to-love-it expression. "Hence, my brilliant plan. We do a meat detox for a few days, and then the Meq'onith will welcome us with open, uh, hooves."
He had got to stop blithely spouting off about demon cultural eccentricities, that much was obvious. "In case it's slipped your mind, I'm an obligate bloody carnivore, emphasis on the bloody. Might as well be eating cardboard for all the good this will do me."
"Not so! I checked with Fred. With your shiny new Mohra-blood-enhanced metabolism, you can get by on solid food for a few days, as long as it's high-protein. " Buffy's tone was all innocence, but there was a wicked sparkle in her eyes. "And tofu is really high-protein."
With a curl of his lip, Spike impaled the tofurkey on his fork. "I'll give you solid, but the food part is debatable. You're going to owe me for this one, love."
"Poor baby. If we manage to pull this off, I will treat you to the biggest, greasiest cheeseburger in existence. And an otter's blood smoothie to go with it."
Sodding hell. "I miss the days when making peaceful overtures to demons meant hitting 'em with a slightly smaller axe. Real otter?"
"Real otter. Cross my heart." Buffy looked thoughtful. "In fact, I was thinking – if this helps with that little blood breath problem of yours, we could make it a regular – "
"Don't push it, Slayer." No sense putting off the inevitable; with glum resignation, Spike took a bite of tofurkey. It tasted about as you'd expect something called 'tofurkey' to taste.
The things he did for love.
End
By Barb C
Prompt: Spike turns vegetarian
Characters: Buffy/Spike
Rating: G
Words: 549
Notes: Barbverse, set several months after the end of POM.
Spike had never expected that working for the white hats would be a stroll among the tombstones. If treading the narrow, stony path of virtue were easy, it'd hardly be a fit gift to lay at the feet of his lady-love, would it? Giving up killing, living on pig's blood, daily defying his very nature for her sake – a struggle, but worth it, no question. But this particular sacrifice was one he'd never signed up for.
The aforementioned lady-love plunked a casserole dish full of something resembling boiled hedge clippings down on the table, and spooned a heaping helping onto his plate, right next to the pale, soggy slab of... what the hell was that, anyway? Spike took a sniff, which proved less than informative, and stared at it in dismay. He prodded the quivering hunk of goo with the tip of his knife, hoping it would take the hint and, properly chastened, transform itself into a rare steak. When that failed to produce the desired results, he turned a reproachful look on Buffy instead. "And what is this, exactly?"
"Tofurkey and three-bean salad with steamed kale," she replied brightly. "I'm trying out your idea."
Dragging wodges of kale around on his plate didn't make it look any more appetizing. "My idea?"
"Yeah, like you said the other day." Buffy beamed at him. "The Meq'onith are herbivores. They won't even talk to us if we quote, 'smell like death,' unquote. If the Meq'onith won't talk to us, then the deal with the Fyarls will go south. And if the deal with the Fyarls goes south, we have to start all over." She popped a forkful of rabbit fodder into her mouth, assuming a determined-to-love-it expression. "Hence, my brilliant plan. We do a meat detox for a few days, and then the Meq'onith will welcome us with open, uh, hooves."
He had got to stop blithely spouting off about demon cultural eccentricities, that much was obvious. "In case it's slipped your mind, I'm an obligate bloody carnivore, emphasis on the bloody. Might as well be eating cardboard for all the good this will do me."
"Not so! I checked with Fred. With your shiny new Mohra-blood-enhanced metabolism, you can get by on solid food for a few days, as long as it's high-protein. " Buffy's tone was all innocence, but there was a wicked sparkle in her eyes. "And tofu is really high-protein."
With a curl of his lip, Spike impaled the tofurkey on his fork. "I'll give you solid, but the food part is debatable. You're going to owe me for this one, love."
"Poor baby. If we manage to pull this off, I will treat you to the biggest, greasiest cheeseburger in existence. And an otter's blood smoothie to go with it."
Sodding hell. "I miss the days when making peaceful overtures to demons meant hitting 'em with a slightly smaller axe. Real otter?"
"Real otter. Cross my heart." Buffy looked thoughtful. "In fact, I was thinking – if this helps with that little blood breath problem of yours, we could make it a regular – "
"Don't push it, Slayer." No sense putting off the inevitable; with glum resignation, Spike took a bite of tofurkey. It tasted about as you'd expect something called 'tofurkey' to taste.
The things he did for love.
End
