Title: "Dominoes"
Spoilers: After the season finale, "Graves". Set in the beginning of season seven.
Rating: PG (so far)
Disclaimer: Joss, Mutant Enemy, Greenwolf, and UPN own the show and it's characters. So there.
Summary: B/S indications and post-"Graves" fiasco, set in season 7. My first fanfic. Ever.
*italic text indicates thought
Feedback: Depends on my reviews on whether or not I will continue after the second installment. And I again welcome constructive criticism. :D Thanks.

*note for this chapter: It may seem just a wee bit fluffy, but you have to look at the subtext. Yeah, that's it. Subtext. :) It's short, but important enough. And thanks for the reviews. All two of them. In regards to the slang I incorporate: I'm not foreign. I'm just young. :b I also try my best to match the sort of individualistic dialogue BtVS has; make it realistic for the characters. Thanks for reading everyone. Reviews still welcome. :D Suggestions even.


Buffy grabbed a stake from the trunk; prepping for patrol. She tossed one to Dawn too, who was sprawled on the couch in front of the TV.

Dawn: "Ugh, Buffy! I've been out on patrol every night for the last week! No way am I missing another Sabrina episode."

Buffy: "Because that show is so great, right?"

Dawn's brain was still fried from watching television. So, instead of retort, tongue stick-out-ness was implemented.

Buffy: "You have to get used to this anyways, Dawn. You need to fight until it becomes instinct. I thought you wanted to learn this stuff?"

Dawn -ughed-, grabbed a jacket, and passed through the door Buffy so kindly held open. They set about towards the cemetery.

Dawn glared diabolically at her sister.

Dawn: "Don't think you've won."

[pause]

Buffy: "Ol-kay. That was eerie."

Dawn: "Actress worthy even."

She said it with a grin and a wink. Well, she didn't really wink.. because winking's just not in these days. Just for explanatory purposes really.


Spike felt horribly uncomfortable at the Hoard-A-Lot shop. Sure, he's been shopping before, but that was pre-soul. He had no idea why he felt different, but he did. Self-concious, even.

Spike: I'll just grab my stuff and get quick right out of here. But I'll pay first. *snort* I paid before, why am I second guessing myself?

He shook his weird thoughts away and headed to the proper aisles.

Spike: Liquor. Check. VHS tapes. (to record his favorite shows, naturally.) Check. Cigarettes. Check.

An eldery woman glowered at him as he walked by. He instinctively nodded a polite smile at her.

Spike: Pfft. So she just assumes that I'm some sort of criminal by my clothes and hair? Oh yeah. The liquor and such. She's still looking at me. Judging me.

Elderly Woman: Hehe. Hot pants, six O' clock.

He sighed(for strictly emotion emission). Spike then looked around for a rebound. The duster-wielder headed off to the greeting card section.

Spike: Yeah, quick thinking motley. Now I need a card to satisfy the old crolup. Let's see..

He snatches a card, avoiding the mushy greeting, and hastily checks out. Outside he stops, exhales, and then heads to the crypt.

Spike: Weird. I forgot about how stupid little things could get to me.

He rolled his eyes. At least there aren't any other nasty side effects.

Spike: At least I've probably seen the lot of it all already. Of these soul farts.


Dawn sat on a headstone, opposite a potential vamp's grave.

Dawn: "..and then I ask her to change my schedule. You know? Like I would really stick was those freshmen classes I already took."

Buffy was zoned out completely during Dawn's fascinating story. Nodding was enough to carry on the 'conversation' with Dawn none the wiser. She very casually glanced in the direction of Spike's crypt, and then returned to her pretend-listening.


To be continued... if the reviews come rolling in. ;)