Author's Note: I'm a bit of a completionist, so I have decided that all of my fan writings, drabbles and all, should be housed together. In an effort to not spam FFN too much, I'm grouping all of my drabbles into collections, split into grouped chapters.
This batch: Thirteen stand-alone drabbles ranging from 100-200 words. Most were completed for the LJ community open_on_sunday, but some were completed as presents to folks over on LJ. Originally posted between 2003 and 2006. Summaries for each are included below.
- Dawn's POV during "Blood Ties."
Envy
Their jovial laughter filled the room, as they talked about unimportant things, designed to distract from the truth.
But Dawn knew. Despite their attempts to prevent her from discovering, which they had been terrible at anyway.
If they had acted normal, she might never have suspected. She imagined it must be hard though to act normal around someone who so clearly wasn't.
The knife dug into her skin, red droplets trailing from her arm and down its length. Distantly, she heard their laughter again and she envied them their place in this world.
A world where she wasn't even real.
- An alternate ending to "Bargaining pt.2" inspired by the Tori Amos song "Happy Phantom."
And If I Die Today
The world is fuzzy. Everything blurry and thick. Feels like molasses draped itself about her, slowing her down. Makes her senses ache.
It's all so very dim…
Bufy's eyes catch sight of the wobbly tower in the distance, and mechanically her feet drag her there and up to the top. The wind slaps her harshly in the face when she reaches her destination, but she barely notices.
She ignores the noise of something behind her, and instead skirts closer to the edge. With only one thought flittering through her mind, Buffy plummets from the tower.
Time to be a ghost.
- Buffy reflects on Spike, set during "As You Were."
Contradiction
Spike was a contradiction, black leather and bravado seated on a sarcophagus, reading poetry. Buffy knew about his penchant for pretty words; his voice when he whispered in her ear could send her over the edge.
She'd never admit, of course, that hearing his heated 'love you' sent a ripple of unequaled pleasure through her.
Buffy pulled him on top of her, the book falling unnoticed to the ground, and wondered how it'd feel if he'd recite one of those poems to her; not that he'd never tried before.
But, maybe today she'd stick around long enough to let him.
- Willow's POV sometime late-season 7 of BTVS.
Dreams of You
It seemed like a dream.
Soft caresses.
Smooth skin.
She'd roll over, watching the beauty by her side and wonder how she'd gotten something so right.
Losing Oz had burned her, but having Tara soothed all wounds.
Eventually her vigil ended and she slept.
Morning came, crisp and crackling with possibilities.
She was greeted with a voice her dream-addled brain didn't recognize.
"Morning baby," Kennedy murmured.
Reality washed back, bringing with it blood spilt by her hands.
Tara was dead.
She'd brought back a slayer, but not her world.
She was a failure.
And it had only been a dream…
- Buffy and Spike have a chat, late-season 7 of BTVS.
Deep Thoughts
Buffy sighed as she sat beside Spike on the porch; cigarette smoke danced about his face. "Ever think about quitting?"
"What the bleeding hell is that supposed to mean?"
"What it sounds like – do you?"
Indignant and hurt, Spike began to pace at the foot of the steps. "How can you ask me that? I've been here, right through the thick of it. Thought we'd passed all that? Told you, I'm not leaving you."
Buffy smiled, "Good to know, but Spike?"
"Hmm?"
"I meant smoking."
"Oh, right, well…huh." Thoughtful, Spike took a drag and smiled. "Nope, can't say I have."
- Willow's spell to enact all the world's potential slayers has unexpected consequences. Takes place during "Chosen." Involves original characters.
Consequences
She didn't understand.
One minute they'd been fooling around, wrestling on the carpet over the remote. She was doing well too, actually managed to get him in a headlock, when she felt something snap.
"Bobby?" His head was twisted at an odd angle, and as she bent down to look, her hand gently touching his shoulder, she saw his eyes staring up, unblinking.
Her hand fell with a gasp. Tears coming unbidden as the eight year old ran to the kitchen, crying out as she collapsed onto the linoleum, her voice chocked with sobs.
"Mommy, I think I broke Bobby."
- The scoobies remember, post "Chosen."
Hopes
The silence echoed on the roof of the porch, a floorboard creaking softly as the golden girl lowered her body to the step, hugging her arms as she tilted her chin to the sky.
Two warm bodies, one redhead and one brunette, joined her in her silent starlight vigil, all of them wishing for who they couldn't have:
I hope she's proud.
I hope she's safe.
I hope he's warm.
The cold blue moonlight seeped into their skin and they leaned together for support, as the three souls they mourned for wished for just one thing:
Let them be happy…
- Buffy POV sometime mid-season 5 of ATS. No comics.
Enchantment
The canals of Venice were beautiful, Buffy wouldn't deny that. There was just something about the soft breath of air on your cheek as you glided along; something about the way the sun glinted off the water.
Something enchanting.
She couldn't help the heavy sigh that escaped her as she leaned back into The Immortal's embrace. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend:
The moon is shining; the arms around her are cool, the chest beneath her silent, and the softly spoken words against her ear, richly accented.
But then the ride end's, and with it, the sweet enchantment.
- Angel's just not having a good day. Set just after "The Girl In Question."
Care Package
Angel had just received an angry call from Buffy, he'd been so happy to hear her voice he hadn't bothered to interrupt her. After a good five minutes of her yelling, and him holding the phone ten inches from his ear, she'd hung up. Not the best way to start the day.
Which is why, when he made it to the office and the smell of chocolate-chip cookies assaulted his nose, his somber mood hit a record low. Worse was the sight of Spike sitting on his desk, cookie in one hand a letter in the other.
"Looky-looky, Pops. Someone got word that ol' Spike was alive and kickin' and sent a nice little welcome package."
Spike leaned back and took another bite of his cookie, before handing the letter to Angel. The creases in Angel's forehead became even more pronounced when he noticed the postmark…
Rome.
Spike merely smirked.
- Buffy tells Andrew a funny story. Set during "Not Fade Away."
The Weirdest Thing
"Andrew, guess what's on TV."
"The new collector's edition 'Sam' figurine! So life-like you can see individual hairs on his feet!"
"No…although – disturbing. The LA Wolfram & Hart imploded. Again."
"Oh…"
"Guess what else."
"What?"
"Angel, a blue-haired woman, and a bleach-blonde man flew past the reporter riding a dragon."
"Huh."
"Anything you should tell me?"
"There's a sale on Prada?"
"Anything else?"
"Spike's back?"
"Wallet."
"You going to LA?"
"Nah, they're doing fine."
"What's my wallet for then?"
"You mentioned 'Prada' and 'sale'."
"Oh."
"And, Andrew?"
"Yeah?"
"Clean the living room, there's little bits of television everywhere."
"Yes, Buffy."
- Drusilla has a vision. Post "Not Fade Away."
Red, White, and Blue
Loneliness. It crept up inside of her one night, squeezing her chest until she thought she'd pop. Pretty crimson would dot the room, then, a tantalizing reminder of days long past.
The backs of her eyes swarm with blue, she knows it's not his, not her precious boy's. It belongs to the other, the one in the empty blueberry shell.
In a blistering flash of brilliant light, she hears him scream. It's tangible and delicious, like warm butter-cream, and a smile blooms across her face, before the aftershock brings her to her knees.
Her Spike is well and truly gone.
- For Sandy S. over at LJ, this is Buffy and Spike in the snow. Weighing in at 200 words, we shall call this one a double-drabble. Set post-Not Fade Away.
Snow Day
She'd told him once. About the snowy morning she'd shared with Angel. He'd scoffed and tried to chalk it up to the Powers way of making sure Angel's shadow would always be around to properly pester Spike.
After that last year at Sunnydale, he'd often wondered why Angel'd gotten off so easy from his little run in with the First, whereas Spike had been beaten, broken, and drained from his ordeal. In his more downtrodden moments, he believed it was because Buffy had loved Angel more. Or, at all, really.
But right now, watching Buffy frolic around in the snow like a kid, hurling snowballs at her sister – he was finding it hard to be even the tiniest bit bitter.
Maybe it was the sunlight glinting off the snowflakes in Buffy's hair that had something to do with it. He'd have to remember to compose some particularly bad poetry for Angel regarding that sight in the next "Thanks for the Shanshu" letter he sent. After all, Angel did so enjoy Spike's poetry…
Of course, that'd have to wait until after he taught a lesson to the Slayer who'd just pelted him in the back of the head with a snowball.
- Giles POV circa season 2.
Bed of Thorns
Being a Watcher, Giles thought he'd had a decent grasp on what it meant to have sleepless nights. Night after night, he'd stay up, waiting for Buffy to report in from patrol, so that he could log the information into his diaries. There was always the niggling worry that this time, she wouldn't phone, but invariably she would. A warm cup of tea and a good book later would find him sound asleep in the comfort of his bed. The nights since Jenny's death, however, brought a whole new meaning to sleepless nights, when his bed was made of thorns.
