Since when do they have swords?
Where had her friggin' stake gone? She'd had it just a second ago...
"Lookin' for this?" With that very clever line, Spike appeared out of the shadows, and swooped down low to scoop up the stake from the gravel path to her right. All black leather and death, he ran at the other, fledgling, vamp.
"No! Spike, wait!"
The blonde just managed to avert his stake~handed swing at Buffy's cry.
The Slayer struggled to her feet, and grabbed up the glossy black garbage bag she'd hauled around all night. She hurled it at the vamp that wasn't wearing leather.
He caught it, and --"Now, Spike!"-- blinked in confusion.
The vampire burst into a lovely grey cloud of dust, taking a week's worth of garbage with him.
Spike stood back, empty~handed.
"I knew it would work," Buffy commented, brushing off some of the scratchy granules that had previously been attacking her. "And the landfills are filling up so fast, I figured I'd try it."
Spike arched an eyebrow. "Impressive." He searched for something more to say.
"Buffy the Garbage Slayer."
# # #
If you've read the notes on some of my other stories, you know I'm way with the environmentalism. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, Right On. And have you noticed how the vampires they poof never leave clothes behind? (Except for that one time when one of them left behind a significant ring in the "What's My Line" two~parter, but that doesn't count) Those two topics made this stupid little fic. It's totally not my fault.
Check out "Irony Becomes Her" and "Of Blondes that Bite and Stab", both by me. Irony's into the 20th chapter, now, and I also added a lovely helpful recap for intermission. Reveiws rock my world, by the way.
~Star Mouse