Disclaimer: see previous chapter.
Author's Note: Some of my favourite drabbles occur in this chapter. I hope you give it a try.
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The Luna Drabbles
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You could tell a lot about a person by how they kissed, Luna knew. That's why she did it. She was curious -- she wanted to know them.
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II. Buffy the Vampire Slayer
III. Angel: the Series
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II. Buffy the Vampire Slayer
1. Spike
He said he was just passing through, but he had time for a drink. She didn't trust him -- couldn't trust him -- but he was lovely and pale and just a touch on the Undead side, and he didn't speak with Received Pronunciation, and he didn't chastise her for being out past midnight, and he had the nicest cheekbones so she could politely ignore the fact that he smelled quite strongly of bleach.
He tasted of blood and cheap smokes and one too many pints. And he was far too rough -- he left bruises on her pale and delicate skin.
Spike kissed like he was just existing from one thrill to the next, hoping against hope that it would be enough to get him through. She politely Stunned him and took her leave, but not before dropping a phial of Auntie Agatha's Moste Potente Peroxide in his duster pocket. It wouldn't do to leave him without something to remember her by.
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2. Faith
Faith wasn't supposed to be there.
That was what she said, anyway, right before she grinned and pinned Luna to the wall and started exploring every inch of her. Luna wanted to ask what Faith meant -- wanted to ask where Faith was supposed to be, if she wasn't supposed to be here -- but Luna found she couldn't get a word in edgewise and settled instead for peering up at the other girl curiously, wanting to commit this image to memory: a confident smile belying haunted eyes, and skin like sweetest caramel.
Faith kissed like she was hiding, like something deep and desperate lurked within her and she couldn't let it out, except through someone else.
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3. Xander
Xander reminded her of someone, though it took her a moment to figure out whom.
His soft dark hair was slightly tangled and his eye-patch made him look rugged and divine -- and though cool lips breathed against hers, muttering, "I've got to go, I've got to get back to the troops," he made no actual move to leave, so Luna made no actual move to let him.
When the kiss ended, he stared at her for longer than was strictly necessary; but Luna was Luna, and so such things did not make her uncomfortable. She allowed him to look, his one eye narrowed, his head cocked to the side.
Xander Harris kissed like the air just after a thunderstorm. Hot-strange-electric-brave. He was a mix of refreshing and overwhelming, and she enjoyed him very much. But she did not want to kiss him again.
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III. Angel: the Series
1. Angel
Angel hadn't wanted it. Not really, anyway.
But drinks were had, and mistakes were made, and the record would show that neither one knew who had made the first move. Angel stroked her face with his cold hands and gazed deeply into her eyes, and Luna thought it funny that she had kissed two vampires in as many years.
Kissing Angel was different than kissing Spike, however: Angel was terrified of enjoying it.
Angel kissed like he was doing penance (very tragically, very poetically), and no amount of empty pretty words and gentle soap-bubble lashes could reassure him that Luna didn't care about what he'd done.
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2. Fred
Winifred Burkle was somehow all the more perfect for having been Lost. It meant she understood Luna in a way no one else ever had.
Luna didn't laugh when Fred talked to shrubs; Fred didn't laugh when Luna warned her about Nargles. Fred's lips tasted of hidden secrets and buried Physics knowledge and so many words she was just bursting so say but had never been able to utter in Pylea.
Luna kissed her again and again and again, until Fred was out of words.
Fred kissed like she craved peculiar things, things only Luna was suited to give. And then Luna watched as Fred became more socialised -- more civilised, more suited to their dimension -- and eventually, the kisses stopped.
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3. Connor
He was two people, hidden cleverly in one warrior's shell. She saw him for who he was after and who he was before -- she saw the well-adjusted and the disturbed -- and she kissed both. What was so lovely about Connor was that he didn't question. He saw her after and before, as well, and kissed each with a delicate but commanding air.
His longish brown hair grazed her shoulder, intermingling with pale blonde locks, just as thin wrists bumped and hot lips crashed. And it was at once sexy and charming, and blue eyes found dark green, and something lovely uncoiled itself in Luna's stomach.
She wondered. No. She understood.
Connor Angel kissed like he loved her, and it was only through great effort that she managed to pull away.
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