Post by The Muse on Dec 25, 2009 2:25:11 GMT -5
* Title: She's a Gravedigger
* Author: Hellbound Hyperion
* Challenge: #7 Holidays!
* Fandom: Buffy - after Long Way Home but before No Future For You. Brief and humorous notation about the events of After the Fall also included.
* Pairing/Characters: Buffy, Willow, Xander, Giles, Renee, Kennedy, Dawn. Satsu cameo.
* Summary: After the events of Long Way Home, the Scoobies plan a get-together for the holidays.
* Rating: PG
* Warnings: Some vamp fighting.
* Disclaimer: Joss is Boss, as always. These characters are his.
* Word Count: 1111
* Author's Note: It's kind of a mess, but I wanted it to be light and funny and not so OMG CANON ANGRY SERIOUSNESS. Enjoy. Happy Christmas everybody.
She's a Gravedigger
“Xander?”
“Willow, for the last time, we are not talking about this!
Sigh. “It’s just…” She looked up at the top of the tree. “There’s nerdy, and then there’s me, and then there’s you. And this is, like, you-squared.”
Xander reached down for another ornament. “Come on, Will, it’s Christmas! I mean, not that that’s meaningful much to you, but still – spirit of the holidays!” He turned his head towards her as he hangs the bauble on the tree. “Lighten up a bit. We all need a break.”
“Oh Xander, such sweet music to my delicate and now awesomely wax-free ears.” Buffy walked up to the towering tannenbaum and looked skyward to the tree’s topping. “Although… Will may have a point.”
Oh, merciful Zeus. “You let me choose the topping. All I’m gonna say on that point. And is anybody else going to help me decorate?”
Willow lifted her hand slightly, bringing the rest of the ornaments with her. In a flurry of color (and a very unbalanced one-eyed Xander, who struggled to dodge baubles, baby pictures, and a hand-crafted Angel decoration which had inexplicably shown up on their doorstep three nights ago with the return mailer “Tall Dark and Forehead”), the tree became a wondrous display of magic, both physical and emotional. Buffy sighed deeply and rested a head on Willow’s shoulder. “You are a Jewish delight. You’re a… what’re they called… a latke. A delicious latke.”
“And I’ll be cooking you like one for that comment… ma’am.” Kennedy, Satsu, and Renee came walking up into the dazzling display of Christmas spirit that now surrounded them. Kennedy snatched Willow’s other arm and dragged her away from Buffy while Renee ran up to Xander, who was struggling to stand up after the fall from his might ladder in the midst of all the chaos.
“Are you okay, sir?” She wore a look of deep concern.
He waved her off. “I’m fine, Renee, just… keep the pretty birdies away from my marshmallows.”
“Yes, well, ah… ahem… ho ho ho, and all that.” Giles was now hurrying up the hill to the Scooby Tree, bringing with him a few wheelbarrows full of presents wrapped with great care. He was also, to the amusement of everybody present, dressed in the outfit of that most mythical of creatures, Santa Claus.
“Giles,” came a booming voice from nearby – Dawn was lounging nearby, her as-yet-unwashed giant clothes emitting a pungent odor proportional to her body, “why are you dressed like Sweets? Seriously. Who gave you that outfit?”
“I will remind you,” he said amidst a renewed outburst of laughter, “that Santa Claus is a persistently evil creature featured in many myths predating the Christian notion of Christmas. And if you really want somebody to blame for this catastrophe, Willow, please tell Kennedy that she is terrible at sewing.”
Kennedy scowled, but Willow just giggled in humored agreement. “Aye-aye, Satan – er, Santa.”
“So, ma’am…” Renee now turned to Buffy, whose cheeks were now a rosy red, a result of laughing too hard and the wintry air blowing across their faces. “I just have two questions. One, why are we setting up a Christmas tree in the middle of a graveyard? Two, why is our tree’s topping Battlestar Galactica’s Starbuck?”
Buffy and Xander just glanced at each other, then turned to the rest and said, in unison: “Because it’s funny?”
But Dawn offered a more succinct response: “Because we’ve just been threatened by a new Big Bad, we’re all super-tense, it’s the holidays, and we needed to make fun of ourselves.”
Giles looked down at his ridiculous outfit. “Well… when you put it that way…” And then he gave a hearty laugh, worthy of the Claus himself.
***
The group settled in for the night in a nearby crypt, recently renovated for this special occasion. Near midnight, Buffy awoke with a jerk – a physical one, not a human one. She’d just had the dream again: “The queen is dead. Long live the queen.” Same ending. Stupid dreams. Will should teach me lucid dreaming. Have to ask her about that sometime.
She stepped outside to get some fresh air, and was pleasantly surprised to see her younger sister also awake, lying on her side a few feet away.
“Not sleepy, Dawnie?”
She smiled. “I was never very sleepy Christmas Eve night. The excitement just overwhelms you.”
Buffy mirrored her sister’s face. “I remember that feeling. A long time ago, before my sleep was invaded by these other women from the past.”
“Buffy?”
“Yeah, Dawn?” Buffy had heard her, of course, but she was momentarily distracted by a familiar sound. Undead rising on Christmas Eve? Note to self: leave stakes in every dead person in graveyard. Saves time.
“Um, I’m not very good at this whole being sentimental and familial and all that, but I just wanted to tell you something.”
Two. Nicely dressed. Probably got turned at a fancy Christmas-themed party. And – oh my God, is that glitter? “Uh, sure, Dawnie. I’m listening.” Roundhouse kick to the face to start – a little Chuck Norris only hurts a lot.
“I know we’re not the closest of sisters – I mean, I’m technically not really human – and I know you’ve always had a tight connection with Xander and Willow and Giles, and that you never intended for me to be caught up in all this-”
“Uh-huh.” Whoops, that was close. A good kick to the gonads is still effective, though. Grab Mr. Pointy, thrust forward, and… yes! Dusty goodne- ack!
“-I mean there was that one time with the jacket, and me being kidnapped every other week. And I don’t have stellar taste in shoes. High heels? Not so good for fighting vamps. I know that now.”
“Yeah, well, we all make mistakes sometimes. I used to fight in skirts.” Shove up against the wall. Like a vertical mating ritual, only… not. OK, eww, I just took that metaphor to a place that should have been burned to the ground a long time ago. Just don’t miss – augh! Stupid vamp speed!
“Right. Of course. But I guess what I’m trying to say? Buffy, you’ve never treated me like anything less than a sister. And I’m grateful for that, always, even if I don’t like to show it.”
Ahh, the sweet smell of vamp dust. You can escape me, but you can’t escape the Naughty list! “You’ll always be my sister, Dawn. That will never change.” They exchange goofy grins. “I guess we should try to get some sleep now.”
Buffy turned back to the crypt. “Oh, and Buffy?”
“Yeah, Dawn?”
“You’ve got vamp dust in your hair.”
“Merry Christmas, Dawn.”
“Merry Christmas, Buffy.”
* Author: Hellbound Hyperion
* Challenge: #7 Holidays!
* Fandom: Buffy - after Long Way Home but before No Future For You. Brief and humorous notation about the events of After the Fall also included.
* Pairing/Characters: Buffy, Willow, Xander, Giles, Renee, Kennedy, Dawn. Satsu cameo.
* Summary: After the events of Long Way Home, the Scoobies plan a get-together for the holidays.
* Rating: PG
* Warnings: Some vamp fighting.
* Disclaimer: Joss is Boss, as always. These characters are his.
* Word Count: 1111
* Author's Note: It's kind of a mess, but I wanted it to be light and funny and not so OMG CANON ANGRY SERIOUSNESS. Enjoy. Happy Christmas everybody.
She's a Gravedigger
“Xander?”
“Willow, for the last time, we are not talking about this!
Sigh. “It’s just…” She looked up at the top of the tree. “There’s nerdy, and then there’s me, and then there’s you. And this is, like, you-squared.”
Xander reached down for another ornament. “Come on, Will, it’s Christmas! I mean, not that that’s meaningful much to you, but still – spirit of the holidays!” He turned his head towards her as he hangs the bauble on the tree. “Lighten up a bit. We all need a break.”
“Oh Xander, such sweet music to my delicate and now awesomely wax-free ears.” Buffy walked up to the towering tannenbaum and looked skyward to the tree’s topping. “Although… Will may have a point.”
Oh, merciful Zeus. “You let me choose the topping. All I’m gonna say on that point. And is anybody else going to help me decorate?”
Willow lifted her hand slightly, bringing the rest of the ornaments with her. In a flurry of color (and a very unbalanced one-eyed Xander, who struggled to dodge baubles, baby pictures, and a hand-crafted Angel decoration which had inexplicably shown up on their doorstep three nights ago with the return mailer “Tall Dark and Forehead”), the tree became a wondrous display of magic, both physical and emotional. Buffy sighed deeply and rested a head on Willow’s shoulder. “You are a Jewish delight. You’re a… what’re they called… a latke. A delicious latke.”
“And I’ll be cooking you like one for that comment… ma’am.” Kennedy, Satsu, and Renee came walking up into the dazzling display of Christmas spirit that now surrounded them. Kennedy snatched Willow’s other arm and dragged her away from Buffy while Renee ran up to Xander, who was struggling to stand up after the fall from his might ladder in the midst of all the chaos.
“Are you okay, sir?” She wore a look of deep concern.
He waved her off. “I’m fine, Renee, just… keep the pretty birdies away from my marshmallows.”
“Yes, well, ah… ahem… ho ho ho, and all that.” Giles was now hurrying up the hill to the Scooby Tree, bringing with him a few wheelbarrows full of presents wrapped with great care. He was also, to the amusement of everybody present, dressed in the outfit of that most mythical of creatures, Santa Claus.
“Giles,” came a booming voice from nearby – Dawn was lounging nearby, her as-yet-unwashed giant clothes emitting a pungent odor proportional to her body, “why are you dressed like Sweets? Seriously. Who gave you that outfit?”
“I will remind you,” he said amidst a renewed outburst of laughter, “that Santa Claus is a persistently evil creature featured in many myths predating the Christian notion of Christmas. And if you really want somebody to blame for this catastrophe, Willow, please tell Kennedy that she is terrible at sewing.”
Kennedy scowled, but Willow just giggled in humored agreement. “Aye-aye, Satan – er, Santa.”
“So, ma’am…” Renee now turned to Buffy, whose cheeks were now a rosy red, a result of laughing too hard and the wintry air blowing across their faces. “I just have two questions. One, why are we setting up a Christmas tree in the middle of a graveyard? Two, why is our tree’s topping Battlestar Galactica’s Starbuck?”
Buffy and Xander just glanced at each other, then turned to the rest and said, in unison: “Because it’s funny?”
But Dawn offered a more succinct response: “Because we’ve just been threatened by a new Big Bad, we’re all super-tense, it’s the holidays, and we needed to make fun of ourselves.”
Giles looked down at his ridiculous outfit. “Well… when you put it that way…” And then he gave a hearty laugh, worthy of the Claus himself.
***
The group settled in for the night in a nearby crypt, recently renovated for this special occasion. Near midnight, Buffy awoke with a jerk – a physical one, not a human one. She’d just had the dream again: “The queen is dead. Long live the queen.” Same ending. Stupid dreams. Will should teach me lucid dreaming. Have to ask her about that sometime.
She stepped outside to get some fresh air, and was pleasantly surprised to see her younger sister also awake, lying on her side a few feet away.
“Not sleepy, Dawnie?”
She smiled. “I was never very sleepy Christmas Eve night. The excitement just overwhelms you.”
Buffy mirrored her sister’s face. “I remember that feeling. A long time ago, before my sleep was invaded by these other women from the past.”
“Buffy?”
“Yeah, Dawn?” Buffy had heard her, of course, but she was momentarily distracted by a familiar sound. Undead rising on Christmas Eve? Note to self: leave stakes in every dead person in graveyard. Saves time.
“Um, I’m not very good at this whole being sentimental and familial and all that, but I just wanted to tell you something.”
Two. Nicely dressed. Probably got turned at a fancy Christmas-themed party. And – oh my God, is that glitter? “Uh, sure, Dawnie. I’m listening.” Roundhouse kick to the face to start – a little Chuck Norris only hurts a lot.
“I know we’re not the closest of sisters – I mean, I’m technically not really human – and I know you’ve always had a tight connection with Xander and Willow and Giles, and that you never intended for me to be caught up in all this-”
“Uh-huh.” Whoops, that was close. A good kick to the gonads is still effective, though. Grab Mr. Pointy, thrust forward, and… yes! Dusty goodne- ack!
“-I mean there was that one time with the jacket, and me being kidnapped every other week. And I don’t have stellar taste in shoes. High heels? Not so good for fighting vamps. I know that now.”
“Yeah, well, we all make mistakes sometimes. I used to fight in skirts.” Shove up against the wall. Like a vertical mating ritual, only… not. OK, eww, I just took that metaphor to a place that should have been burned to the ground a long time ago. Just don’t miss – augh! Stupid vamp speed!
“Right. Of course. But I guess what I’m trying to say? Buffy, you’ve never treated me like anything less than a sister. And I’m grateful for that, always, even if I don’t like to show it.”
Ahh, the sweet smell of vamp dust. You can escape me, but you can’t escape the Naughty list! “You’ll always be my sister, Dawn. That will never change.” They exchange goofy grins. “I guess we should try to get some sleep now.”
Buffy turned back to the crypt. “Oh, and Buffy?”
“Yeah, Dawn?”
“You’ve got vamp dust in your hair.”
“Merry Christmas, Dawn.”
“Merry Christmas, Buffy.”
at: Two, why is our tree’s topping Battlestar Galactica’s Starbuck?”
I had to use it here because it was so nerdy that it fit me, and that meant it had to fit Xander. I love that guy. <3