sparkz0r

So I just realised that I haven't been posting a lot of the drabbles & ficlets I've written for whedonland, so I thought I'd chuck them all here.

Home, Angel, Gen, 3.06 'Fredless'

Her room still smells of wet paint, which makes her queasy at the very idea of sleeping. She walks softly & quietly down the hallway. On the first floor landing she stops, rests her elbows on the balcony railing & her head in her hands, & surveys the scene below.

Gunn sits on the round couch in the middle of the lobby with an axe in his hands. She can hear the rasp of the whetstone as he methodically runs it along the blade's edge. He appears as completely focused as ever.

Cordelia is sitting at the front desk, humming a tune and delicately applying nail polish to her fingernails. The colour matches her beautifully cut, deep pink shirt perfectly. Fred tugs at the hem of her grey hoodie self-consciously.

Angel emerges from the office, brooding expression in place & a dusty tome in hand. He pauses next to Cordelia and whispers something in her ear. Cordelia giggles & elbows him in the side. Kyrumption, Fred thinks and smiles to herself.

Wesley approaches Angel with a piece of parchment in his hands. His expression is both excited and concerned as he speaks in hushed tones with Angel.

"Fred," Angel calls out, cutting through the quiet & startling everyone in the room. "Want to come & see this?"

She feels her mouth stretch with an embarrassed smile. "Wasn't spying or anything," she mutters more to herself than anyone else.

Her nervousness vanishes when Wesley hands her the parchment. It's delicate & the musty smell reminds her of the library. And the symbols... Well, they're just crying out to be solved.

As she settles down next to Cordelia with the parchment, Angel returns to his office. Gunn continues to sharpen his axe, occasionally glancing over in a thoughtful way. Wesley takes a seat next to her with a pile of books and a friendly smile.

She takes another look around the cavernous room & smiles.

She is home.


Untitled, Gen, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6

She has lost all concept of time. Whether it's been days, weeks or months, she no longer cares. Eternity stretches out all around her and she has never felt safer. She is surrounded by warmth and love.

And in an instant it is gone.

The warmth and light is replaced by a cold, suffocating darkness. Pain wells in her chest as her heart begins to beat. Her lungs cry out for oxygen and she gasps desperately for air.

She opens her mouth to scream, cry out for help. Nothing comes out but a rasping breath.

Stretching her arms out, her hands find wood directly above her, covered by a thin layer of ruched material. A coffin. She needs to act before the panic sets in. Tearing at the material, she pulls it aside and begins punching her way through the wood. Her hands sting with every blow and soon dirt begins to cascade down.

Taking a deep breath she pulls herself up, clawing and kicking up through the dirt. Her chest is aching now & as she bursts through the ground, she breathes in the night air.

Every bone in her body aches. The skin on her knuckles is broken and bleeding. She can't seem to get enough air in her lungs.

Looking around for some sign of where she is, she sees the headstone and her name etched upon it. She understands now. She was given a small taste of heaven before she was cast down into hell.


Untitled, Firefly, Jayne/???

It was love at first sight.

She's the prettiest little thing he's seen in a good long while, & she was certainly brightening up the dingy bar he was drinking in. She was also in the arms of another man (practically a boy), but that could easily be fixed. Jayne could tell just by looking at him, he didn't even know how to treat her right.

Taking one last swig from his cup, he left the bar & approached the pimple-necked boy.

"I believe you got somethin' of mine," Jayne glared down at him.

Before he could even react, Jayne elbowed him hard in the face & pulled her from the boy's arms. As she settled in the crook of his arm, Jayne smiled, a perfect fit.

Jayne then glared down at the boy, "Any problems?"

The boy wiped the blood from his nose & reluctantly shook his head. "Thought not."

Jayne returned to the ship, barely able to restrain himself from running his hands all over his new conquest.

"Jayne, gimme a hand with this merchandise," Mal called from across the cargo hold.

Oblivious to his captains voice, Jayne all but skipped through the ship to his quarters. Laying her down on his bunk, Jayne took a moment to appreciate how beautiful she truly was.

"I'm gonna call you Vera."

**

"Where in the hairy hell did Jayne go?"

"I think he went to polish his gun," Zoe replied dryly.


Untitled, Gen, Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel, Post Season 2 Buffy

"Whoa, excuse me."

"Sorry, I- I wasn't watching where I was going."

"You probably should watch where you're going, this isn't a good place. Especially for someone like you."

"'Like you'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, let's see: you're female, white & tiny."

"I can look after myself, thanks."

"Hey, no offense, girl. But this 'hood is dangerous. The cops don't even come down here anymore."

"Good."

"Girl power is only gonna get you so far. Look me & my crew have a place nearby, you can crash there tonight."

"So, you tell me that your neighbourhood is scary & bad, & now you want me to follow you to a second location. I'm gonna have to say no."

"Normally a smart move, but you really don't know this part of town."

"Okay, I'm going to keep walking & you're going to- Duck!"

"What-"

"Rrrr. Fresh meat!"

"I might smell fresh, but you smell like crap. Okay, not my best comeback."

"You just staked that vampire."

"What? No, I didn't. It was a trick of light. He was a mugger. I chased him off. You were seeing things. I think you have a concussion."

"You know, it sounds more convincing if you take a breath between each excuse."

"Look, I get that you want to help me, but I think the best thing would be for you to leave me alone."

"I think the best thing would be for you to tell me how you took that vamp out on your own. I could use someone like you on my crew."

"I don't think I want another crew right now, sorry."

"I get that. You change your mind, though... Well, you know where to find me. I'm Gunn."

"...Anne. I'm Anne. Goodbye, Gunn."

"Goodnight, Anne."


Untitled, Gen, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Post-Season 7

Dawn paused as she reloaded her slingshot. "So, why are we doing this again?"

Andrew hissed as one of his water balloons missed it's target.

"Because, Dawnie," he replied in the most condescending tone he could muster. "We're helping them hone their agility."

"Plus they look like adorably drowned rats," Xander ducked down under the treehouse window to grab another balloon.

"That too," Andrew concurred.

Dawn snuck a peek out the window. A dozen or so eager slayers-in-training were poised on the ground below. Most of the girls were able to pick up on their firing pattern pretty quickly, she hadn't been able to hit anyone with her last five balloons.

Spotting the back door of the house opening, Dawn decided to take the easy shot. Letting the slingshot go with a twang, she let out a howl of triumph.

"Direct hit!" she cried gleefully, watching the girl brush her soaking hair out of her face. "Uh-oh."

Dawn ducked down under the window, her face frozen.

"Dawn!"

Xander and Andrew peeked out the window on either side of Dawn.

"Well, it's been nice knowing you, Summers," Xander patted her on the shoulder."

"Dawn!"

Getting to her feet, Dawn raised her hand to wave, "Oh heeeeey, Buffy."


Untitled, Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel, Post-Seasons 7 & 5, Dawn/???

Dawn Summers could swing a sword like nobody's business. She'd even managed to disarm her sister once. The Slayer. The Head Slayer of all Slayers. (To this day, Buffy still insisted that she'd been distracted. First it was a cat, then it was two cats fighting &, finally, it was two cats fighting with lasers. "They were time travelling cats, Dawn. Obviously.") As of last night, the number of vampires she's staked hit the high 20s. And with Xander's help, she'd perfected her handbrake turn this summer.

And now, as she watched a week's worth of notes blow across the quad, she knew she'd forever be known as the frosh who couldn't walk down stairs.

She could hear laughter & a smattering of applause around her as she gathered up her books. Her cheeks grew flush & the scrapes on her hands stung.

"I think these are yours."

Getting to her feet, she found a blue-eyed guy with shaggy mop of brown hair standing in front of her with a sheaf of papers in his hands.

"Wow, thanks," she smiled, taking her notes back from him. "You picked those up pretty fast."

"Well, you looked like you could use a hand," he grinned.

"Yeah, I've got a massive essay due Thursday," she replied ruefully.

"So, I guess Friday would be a good night for our date," he said hopefully.

"Our what?" She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Just like that, huh? You don't even know me."

"Well, I don't see the point in waiting around," he shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, you're cute, you take a fall like a pro & you really sold me with your take on Rand."

She looked down at her notes as he tapped them. In her handwriting was the following: Ayn Rand- Objectivism - individual rights; laissez-faire capitalism (constitutionally-limited government. At the end of which she'd written in big, bold letters: SOCIOPATH

"Oh, heh," She grinned sheepishly. "Well, on one condition then: I get your name."

"Connor," he held his hand out for her to shake.

Grasping his hand, she smiled up at him, "I'm Dawn."