Dawn briefly wondered, as she shoved her living room coffee table to the left, if what she was planning would
really work. It seemed pretty far fetched, and not only Buffy would question, but everyone else would, too.
'Radical' didn't even begin to cover the extent of it.
But Dawn would do anything to get rid of her stress.
So, she figured yoga and meditation were the best places to start. She had searched long and painful hours, but had finally restored her late mothers old yoga tapes to their rightful place by the TV. And, with a quick change of clothes and a click on the remote, the soothing sounds of ocean waves and quiet forests lead her down the path to enlightenment.
Until Spike burst in.
"Buffy! Buffy? We gotta talk you bi--Dawn?" The blonde vampire succeeded in destroying the lock on the front door. He stomped in without a shirt, and almost fell over at the sight of Dawn carefully balanced in what the tape called the "warrior pose."
"S-S-Spike?!" Dawn cried before promptly falling over, "what are you doing? A-a-and where's your shirt?"
Spike paused. He glanced down at his bare chest and his eyes widened. He quickly hugged himself, shivering despite the ninety degree weather blowing in from the open door, "I-I don't know! Where's your sister?"
Dawn struggled to an upright position, laying a suspicious glare on the intruder, "Patrolling. Why?"
Again, Spikes eyes widened considerably, and his black polished boots shuffled in the carpet, "Oh, ah, I-I'm mad at her! She-she left just as we were tackling a nest of vampires, who were all hungry and nasty. See, they ripped off my shirt in the fray and managed to take it with them as they...ran in terror..of me! But I'm just sodding pissed at the Slayer for leaving me all alone with those intimidating and evil creatures--"
"Relax, Spike. You're a terrible liar," Dawn smiled, "you're just here to...what, show off your chest to my sister? Who, sad fact indeed, still remains uninterested?" Her composure had returned after the undead shock, and she crossed her own arms in triumph.
The blonde vampire dropped his arms and stalked forward into the house, glaring down at Dawn, "I'm not the one getting all pretzel-like on the floor. What is this, anyway?" He gestured towards the TV, which was still soothingly imparting the knowledge of another yoga stretch.
It was Dawns turn to mumble, "I was getting stressed, so I got some of moms old tapes and stuff. Thought it might help me out."
Spike frowned, watching the TV with a mixture of interest and contempt, "is it working?"
Dawn rolled her eyes, turning back to resume her activity, "You never can tell how something is working when a shirtless vampire interrupts, now, can you?"
Spike growled and paced back to the door, stopped, paced back to the living room again, and then went back to the door.
"She'll be home in an hour," Dawn said absently.
Spike smiled, "Perfect," And he sat down next to down and began to stretch.
One Hour Later
"Ow."
"Ow!"
"Ooow!"
Spike crashed to the floor, "I can't do it, Nibblet, I'm sorry."
Dawn followed suit, landing ungraciously on top of Spike, gasping for air, "That one's...tricky..."
"Last one, too...almost had it," Spike admitted defeat, turning his head to glare at the old, incomprehensibly limber brunette woman who bowed to them as the credits rolled. He murmered a few choice words under his breath as the lousy jazz music allowed them respite from the challenges of stretching, "I feel like jello."
"I'm aiming towards silly-puddy, really."
"Yeah, nice one," Spike chuckled, closing his weary eyes.
"Thanks, Spike," He heard a whisper.
"For what?" The vampire sighed.
A giggle, "Helping me relieve stress."
Smiling, Spike managed a reassuring pat on the girl sprawled upon him, too exhausted to do anymore.
"What the hell is going on?" A voice cut through the watery jazz and the pants for air, and Spike and Dawn glanced up to see a tousled and enraged Buffy glaring at them from the front door, which was still open.
"Oh." Was all Spike said.
Dawn smiled, "Meditation, anyone?"
'Radical' didn't even begin to cover the extent of it.
But Dawn would do anything to get rid of her stress.
So, she figured yoga and meditation were the best places to start. She had searched long and painful hours, but had finally restored her late mothers old yoga tapes to their rightful place by the TV. And, with a quick change of clothes and a click on the remote, the soothing sounds of ocean waves and quiet forests lead her down the path to enlightenment.
Until Spike burst in.
"Buffy! Buffy? We gotta talk you bi--Dawn?" The blonde vampire succeeded in destroying the lock on the front door. He stomped in without a shirt, and almost fell over at the sight of Dawn carefully balanced in what the tape called the "warrior pose."
"S-S-Spike?!" Dawn cried before promptly falling over, "what are you doing? A-a-and where's your shirt?"
Spike paused. He glanced down at his bare chest and his eyes widened. He quickly hugged himself, shivering despite the ninety degree weather blowing in from the open door, "I-I don't know! Where's your sister?"
Dawn struggled to an upright position, laying a suspicious glare on the intruder, "Patrolling. Why?"
Again, Spikes eyes widened considerably, and his black polished boots shuffled in the carpet, "Oh, ah, I-I'm mad at her! She-she left just as we were tackling a nest of vampires, who were all hungry and nasty. See, they ripped off my shirt in the fray and managed to take it with them as they...ran in terror..of me! But I'm just sodding pissed at the Slayer for leaving me all alone with those intimidating and evil creatures--"
"Relax, Spike. You're a terrible liar," Dawn smiled, "you're just here to...what, show off your chest to my sister? Who, sad fact indeed, still remains uninterested?" Her composure had returned after the undead shock, and she crossed her own arms in triumph.
The blonde vampire dropped his arms and stalked forward into the house, glaring down at Dawn, "I'm not the one getting all pretzel-like on the floor. What is this, anyway?" He gestured towards the TV, which was still soothingly imparting the knowledge of another yoga stretch.
It was Dawns turn to mumble, "I was getting stressed, so I got some of moms old tapes and stuff. Thought it might help me out."
Spike frowned, watching the TV with a mixture of interest and contempt, "is it working?"
Dawn rolled her eyes, turning back to resume her activity, "You never can tell how something is working when a shirtless vampire interrupts, now, can you?"
Spike growled and paced back to the door, stopped, paced back to the living room again, and then went back to the door.
"She'll be home in an hour," Dawn said absently.
Spike smiled, "Perfect," And he sat down next to down and began to stretch.
One Hour Later
"Ow."
"Ow!"
"Ooow!"
Spike crashed to the floor, "I can't do it, Nibblet, I'm sorry."
Dawn followed suit, landing ungraciously on top of Spike, gasping for air, "That one's...tricky..."
"Last one, too...almost had it," Spike admitted defeat, turning his head to glare at the old, incomprehensibly limber brunette woman who bowed to them as the credits rolled. He murmered a few choice words under his breath as the lousy jazz music allowed them respite from the challenges of stretching, "I feel like jello."
"I'm aiming towards silly-puddy, really."
"Yeah, nice one," Spike chuckled, closing his weary eyes.
"Thanks, Spike," He heard a whisper.
"For what?" The vampire sighed.
A giggle, "Helping me relieve stress."
Smiling, Spike managed a reassuring pat on the girl sprawled upon him, too exhausted to do anymore.
"What the hell is going on?" A voice cut through the watery jazz and the pants for air, and Spike and Dawn glanced up to see a tousled and enraged Buffy glaring at them from the front door, which was still open.
"Oh." Was all Spike said.
Dawn smiled, "Meditation, anyone?"