Miserable Day
Author: Lucinda
rating: pg 13, sexual innuendo
pairing: Willow/Remy, set in the Ice Universe.
disclaimer: Willow belongs to Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as do any other characters of BtVS that may be mentioned. Remy (and any other X-Men mentioned) belong to Stan Lee & Marvel Comics.
distribution: Anyone that has permission for the Ice Series, & QPC
notes: set in the Ice universe, AU from just before Graduation, Willow is an empathic mutant with minor telekinesis and involved with Remy, who she rescued from Antarctica. Response to a cheer-me-up challenge from Jinni.
1) Main character #1: Willow.
2) Main character #2: Legolas, Aragorn, Logan, Remy, Julian, Richard or Jean-Claude.
3) Willow has had a trying day at work/home/therapy/school. She needs to let off some steam. How does she do this?
4) Include one random act of violence towards any household appliance – stove, dishwasher, blender, etc.
5) Include one of character #2's articles of clothing being dyed a very impressive shade of neon pink.
6) Willow doing some sort of spell that completely and utterly backfires, making her day that much the worse.
7) Character #2 making willow feel better.
8) Can be G-NC17. The higher rated the better at this point.
Willow felt like growling as she stalked towards Jack, who had some sort of problem with his computer. She was already unhappy with her day, and she just knew things would get worse. The weather was overcast and filled with humidity, making her feel like she was walking through cold fog. She'd been unable to find her comfortable shoes, and as a result had to wear a new pair of heels, which had already given her blisters on the backs of both heels. Something was wrong with the buildings temperature controls, and as a result, the air conditioner was on and set to near arctic levels. She was freezing, her skin raised into goose bumps, her toes and fingers hurt from it, and every time she bumped into an open drawer or a corner that was a bit farther than she thought, it hurt far more than the bumps had any right to do.
Now Jack had another problem with his computer. Jack was always having problems with everything in his life, often because of stupid things that he did. He would call for help with the most simple thing, either because he was so completely incompetent that he was only working there because his uncle was the manager or to try to look down her blouse. And she wasn't supposed to dump his coffee over him because it might splash on the computer.
Arriving at Jack's cubicle, she looked at his monitor. There were a couple windows open on the screen, one of which was the file he was supposed to be working on, another of which seemed to be personal email, and a third of which she thought might be a naked blond woman with impossibly huge breasts. Everything on the monitor had it's color shifted and blurred, and almost static-like lines crossed the screen. It was locked up, and not responding to anything Jack tried. "So... what did you do to it this time, Jack?"
Jack shrugged, his eyes never making it above her chest. "Not sure, everything was working fine, and then it just... the color went funny and it locked up."
Willow sighed to herself, mentally translating his words. He'd been looking at porn and checking his email instead of working, and had probably opened a virus. "Move, let me see what I can do about this problem."
She settled in front of the computer, and managed to convince it to let her see what was going on. Sure enough, smut-boy had been checking out porn and opening viruses. Yes, not A virus, many viruses. "This is not a little problem."
"I got another problem that you could take care off for me..." Jack's voice had this creepy lustful note.
Glancing over, Willow saw his lustful leer, and the way his hands were hovering over his zipper. Eeeuw. "She stood up, her eyes narrowed in pure frustrated fury. "You spend the whole day looking at porn and opening viruses and now you try to impress me with pitiful come ons and that puny little erection? I've had it with you! Hecate, let him be without as he is within!"
With an oddly muted crackling sound, Jack shrank a little bit, his skin becoming slimy and greenish as he changed into what could only be described as a slime covered frog man. Willow screamed, and fled the cubicle. Soon, there was utter pandemonium as everyone else saw the hideous frog-thing, and the building was closed for the day.
She made her way back to the apartment, her feet in near screaming pain, her clothing soaked from the sudden shower of cold rain, and chilled to the bones. Today was miserable. All she wanted to do was change into something warm and dry and curl up under a blanket with Remy. Her mascara had run, leaving her face streaked with dark lines in a most unflattering and almost scary manner, her hair was a sodden cold mass. She had the sinking feeling that she would catch a cold from all of this.
She kicked her heels off in the direction of the closet, her telekinesis enough to make sure they got there, and made her way to the bathroom, leaving her wet things in the bathtub, pausing to put band-aids over her blisters, one of which had broken open. She was shivering now, and pulled on a few layers of dry clothing. She'd started a pot of hot water so that she could have some soothing tea, and made her way to the washer, certain that the load of white shirts and underwear needed moved to the dryer before it got that funny sat-to-long-while-wet smell.
She reached in and pulled out a handful of damp clothing and was just about to throw it into the dryer when she realized that it was a bright shade of pink. Almost the same color as the squares on Remy's armor. Dear God, how had that happened?
Frantically, she dug through the now pink shirts, socks and underwear, finally discovering the culprit. It was this dark rose nightgown that Remy had bought her, with lace trim and a slit in the side...
The deep color had bled onto everything else in the wash, staining them pink. Frowning at the gown, she held it up, discovering that not only had it bled and stained everything, the lace had come loose along the bodice.
With a groan, she threw everything into the dryer, deciding that it just wasn't worth letting them sit, and hung the nightie up to dry. She went into the kitchen in an effort to try a little food to settle her stomach. With a small smile, she put the leftovers from that nice cajun place into the microwave, hoping that it would make things better. She'd just poured the hot water over her tea when she smelled spices and smoke.
Smoke? Why was there smoke? Spinning around, she saw that the microwave was filled with dark smoke, and she thought she heard something sparking... "NO! nonono... don't do this to me!"
The food was ruined, and the styrofoam had melted into a disgusting mass. She floated the ruins of dinner into the trash and glared at the microwave. With muttered curses learned from Remy and Spike, she pulled the microwave from the counter, hurling it to the floor. She grabbed Remy's staff and began hitting it, still cursing the defective appliance, the weather, and her miserable office. By this point, tears were streaming down her face and the microwave was little more than a shattered collection of metal and wires.
She felt arms go around her, strong arms that gently pulled her close, and she heard Remy's voice murmuring in her ear, half of his words in French, everything soothing, comforting. He pulled the staff from her unresisting hand and somehow got her to the couch, curled up on his lap, her tears now soaking into his shoulder.
"Tell Remy what's wrong?" His voice held no anger, only worry.
Willow sniffled and began to tell him all about her horrible day, the shoes, the miserable weather, the epidemic of computer troubles, Jacks leering harassment, and with a large portion of embarrassment, her accidental transformation of Jack from a slimy little pervert to a frog-man that had caused the panicked evacuation of the building. She was clinging to him, desperate for comfort, for reassurance that not everything would go wrong, that he still loved her, would still be there. She didn't think that she could get through days like this alone.
Remy listened, one hand rubbing small circles on her back. "So, t'day been miserable for you. Means things can only get better. Got a bit of a surprise for you... got a groups dinner planned tonight. Me an' you, Stormy and Logan, an' Spike' an' Harmony. Ahh, she does know that she can't sing, right?"
Willow gave a small giggle. "Yeah... she says that's one of the biggest things that years of school music lessons taught her. She also says that it's a cruel joke from her parents, because neither of them can sing either. Please tell me it's informal? No more evil shoes?"
Remy tipped her face up a little, kissing her gently. "Very informal, but there might be karaoke. None of us have to sing though."
"Oh good. And tomorrow I have to go buy another microwave..." She had managed a small smile now, and the tears had stopped.
Remy grinned at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You did kill it...so now what do we do wit' the remains?"
She just started laughing. "I did not! It was already dead, and it killed what I was thinking I'd have for dinner... it was evil! I had to beat it to death."
"Of course you say that now. Let's get a little more of the chamomile tea into you before we go out... I think you need a bit of soothing." Remy was grinning as he teased her.
"Maybe you can help me get the stress out another way?" Her voice was soft as she looked up at him, her eyes showing the simmering passion that he always brought out in her.
Delighted, he scooped her into his arms, and headed towards the bedroom. "Your wish be my command, Willow."
Her day was much better now.
end Miserable Day.
Author: Lucinda
rating: pg 13, sexual innuendo
pairing: Willow/Remy, set in the Ice Universe.
disclaimer: Willow belongs to Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as do any other characters of BtVS that may be mentioned. Remy (and any other X-Men mentioned) belong to Stan Lee & Marvel Comics.
distribution: Anyone that has permission for the Ice Series, & QPC
notes: set in the Ice universe, AU from just before Graduation, Willow is an empathic mutant with minor telekinesis and involved with Remy, who she rescued from Antarctica. Response to a cheer-me-up challenge from Jinni.
1) Main character #1: Willow.
2) Main character #2: Legolas, Aragorn, Logan, Remy, Julian, Richard or Jean-Claude.
3) Willow has had a trying day at work/home/therapy/school. She needs to let off some steam. How does she do this?
4) Include one random act of violence towards any household appliance – stove, dishwasher, blender, etc.
5) Include one of character #2's articles of clothing being dyed a very impressive shade of neon pink.
6) Willow doing some sort of spell that completely and utterly backfires, making her day that much the worse.
7) Character #2 making willow feel better.
8) Can be G-NC17. The higher rated the better at this point.
Willow felt like growling as she stalked towards Jack, who had some sort of problem with his computer. She was already unhappy with her day, and she just knew things would get worse. The weather was overcast and filled with humidity, making her feel like she was walking through cold fog. She'd been unable to find her comfortable shoes, and as a result had to wear a new pair of heels, which had already given her blisters on the backs of both heels. Something was wrong with the buildings temperature controls, and as a result, the air conditioner was on and set to near arctic levels. She was freezing, her skin raised into goose bumps, her toes and fingers hurt from it, and every time she bumped into an open drawer or a corner that was a bit farther than she thought, it hurt far more than the bumps had any right to do.
Now Jack had another problem with his computer. Jack was always having problems with everything in his life, often because of stupid things that he did. He would call for help with the most simple thing, either because he was so completely incompetent that he was only working there because his uncle was the manager or to try to look down her blouse. And she wasn't supposed to dump his coffee over him because it might splash on the computer.
Arriving at Jack's cubicle, she looked at his monitor. There were a couple windows open on the screen, one of which was the file he was supposed to be working on, another of which seemed to be personal email, and a third of which she thought might be a naked blond woman with impossibly huge breasts. Everything on the monitor had it's color shifted and blurred, and almost static-like lines crossed the screen. It was locked up, and not responding to anything Jack tried. "So... what did you do to it this time, Jack?"
Jack shrugged, his eyes never making it above her chest. "Not sure, everything was working fine, and then it just... the color went funny and it locked up."
Willow sighed to herself, mentally translating his words. He'd been looking at porn and checking his email instead of working, and had probably opened a virus. "Move, let me see what I can do about this problem."
She settled in front of the computer, and managed to convince it to let her see what was going on. Sure enough, smut-boy had been checking out porn and opening viruses. Yes, not A virus, many viruses. "This is not a little problem."
"I got another problem that you could take care off for me..." Jack's voice had this creepy lustful note.
Glancing over, Willow saw his lustful leer, and the way his hands were hovering over his zipper. Eeeuw. "She stood up, her eyes narrowed in pure frustrated fury. "You spend the whole day looking at porn and opening viruses and now you try to impress me with pitiful come ons and that puny little erection? I've had it with you! Hecate, let him be without as he is within!"
With an oddly muted crackling sound, Jack shrank a little bit, his skin becoming slimy and greenish as he changed into what could only be described as a slime covered frog man. Willow screamed, and fled the cubicle. Soon, there was utter pandemonium as everyone else saw the hideous frog-thing, and the building was closed for the day.
She made her way back to the apartment, her feet in near screaming pain, her clothing soaked from the sudden shower of cold rain, and chilled to the bones. Today was miserable. All she wanted to do was change into something warm and dry and curl up under a blanket with Remy. Her mascara had run, leaving her face streaked with dark lines in a most unflattering and almost scary manner, her hair was a sodden cold mass. She had the sinking feeling that she would catch a cold from all of this.
She kicked her heels off in the direction of the closet, her telekinesis enough to make sure they got there, and made her way to the bathroom, leaving her wet things in the bathtub, pausing to put band-aids over her blisters, one of which had broken open. She was shivering now, and pulled on a few layers of dry clothing. She'd started a pot of hot water so that she could have some soothing tea, and made her way to the washer, certain that the load of white shirts and underwear needed moved to the dryer before it got that funny sat-to-long-while-wet smell.
She reached in and pulled out a handful of damp clothing and was just about to throw it into the dryer when she realized that it was a bright shade of pink. Almost the same color as the squares on Remy's armor. Dear God, how had that happened?
Frantically, she dug through the now pink shirts, socks and underwear, finally discovering the culprit. It was this dark rose nightgown that Remy had bought her, with lace trim and a slit in the side...
The deep color had bled onto everything else in the wash, staining them pink. Frowning at the gown, she held it up, discovering that not only had it bled and stained everything, the lace had come loose along the bodice.
With a groan, she threw everything into the dryer, deciding that it just wasn't worth letting them sit, and hung the nightie up to dry. She went into the kitchen in an effort to try a little food to settle her stomach. With a small smile, she put the leftovers from that nice cajun place into the microwave, hoping that it would make things better. She'd just poured the hot water over her tea when she smelled spices and smoke.
Smoke? Why was there smoke? Spinning around, she saw that the microwave was filled with dark smoke, and she thought she heard something sparking... "NO! nonono... don't do this to me!"
The food was ruined, and the styrofoam had melted into a disgusting mass. She floated the ruins of dinner into the trash and glared at the microwave. With muttered curses learned from Remy and Spike, she pulled the microwave from the counter, hurling it to the floor. She grabbed Remy's staff and began hitting it, still cursing the defective appliance, the weather, and her miserable office. By this point, tears were streaming down her face and the microwave was little more than a shattered collection of metal and wires.
She felt arms go around her, strong arms that gently pulled her close, and she heard Remy's voice murmuring in her ear, half of his words in French, everything soothing, comforting. He pulled the staff from her unresisting hand and somehow got her to the couch, curled up on his lap, her tears now soaking into his shoulder.
"Tell Remy what's wrong?" His voice held no anger, only worry.
Willow sniffled and began to tell him all about her horrible day, the shoes, the miserable weather, the epidemic of computer troubles, Jacks leering harassment, and with a large portion of embarrassment, her accidental transformation of Jack from a slimy little pervert to a frog-man that had caused the panicked evacuation of the building. She was clinging to him, desperate for comfort, for reassurance that not everything would go wrong, that he still loved her, would still be there. She didn't think that she could get through days like this alone.
Remy listened, one hand rubbing small circles on her back. "So, t'day been miserable for you. Means things can only get better. Got a bit of a surprise for you... got a groups dinner planned tonight. Me an' you, Stormy and Logan, an' Spike' an' Harmony. Ahh, she does know that she can't sing, right?"
Willow gave a small giggle. "Yeah... she says that's one of the biggest things that years of school music lessons taught her. She also says that it's a cruel joke from her parents, because neither of them can sing either. Please tell me it's informal? No more evil shoes?"
Remy tipped her face up a little, kissing her gently. "Very informal, but there might be karaoke. None of us have to sing though."
"Oh good. And tomorrow I have to go buy another microwave..." She had managed a small smile now, and the tears had stopped.
Remy grinned at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You did kill it...so now what do we do wit' the remains?"
She just started laughing. "I did not! It was already dead, and it killed what I was thinking I'd have for dinner... it was evil! I had to beat it to death."
"Of course you say that now. Let's get a little more of the chamomile tea into you before we go out... I think you need a bit of soothing." Remy was grinning as he teased her.
"Maybe you can help me get the stress out another way?" Her voice was soft as she looked up at him, her eyes showing the simmering passion that he always brought out in her.
Delighted, he scooped her into his arms, and headed towards the bedroom. "Your wish be my command, Willow."
Her day was much better now.
end Miserable Day.