Post by The Muse on Nov 16, 2009 0:03:04 GMT -5
Title: Meanwhile
Challenge: #6 Outsider Perspective
Fandom: Buffy
Pairings/Characters: Oz, OC
Summary: Through a stranger's eyes. End of Season 7
Rating: PG
Warning: Depending on the interpretation
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadly.
Word Count: 1000
“Sorry! This stupid thing-” Katy sagged in relief as the coffee machine gurgled into life. “It seems to have developed a contentious dislike for me.”
“Harsh. I get the same attitude from waffle makers. We’re still not speaking.”
The waitress grinned as she turned around to face her customer. He was different somehow. Even in the packed café, he seemed strangely disconnected. There was something in his manner that felt aimless; almost world-weary. His clothes were faded and his hair was cropped into messy black spikes. In contrast to the queue behind him, he was waiting calmly, stance relaxed and unhurried; like he had no-one to meet or place he needed to be.
“Yeah, appliances are tricky.”
He smiled in sympathy. Well, it wasn’t really a smile in the traditional sense. It was more there in the softening of his features and tug in the corner of his mouth. Katy felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She wanted to ask what brought him here, but something stopped her. His cutting eyes were oddly intense. Bright orbs of jade green that glowed warmly yet kept a wary distance, silently warning of a dangerous darkness just behind them. She couldn’t explain it; it was just instinct.
“There you go; one American coffee for one American.”
There was that almost smile again.
“Gotta do my bit for the cultural clichés”
As he moved to a table, she noticed that his movements were unusually graceful for a guy; fluid and lithely balanced, in a way that made Katy think of her cat for some reason.
Her gaze travelled his downcast profile. Those same haunting eyes were narrowed in concentration, pencil twitching in his hand, the only sign of emotion to escape his stoic features. His entire demeanour was one of cool detachment, like an oasis of reasoned calm in the crowded café. This guy seemed to have Zen down to a fine art.
His fingers tapped distractedly against the tabletop; gently rapping out a rhythmic, musing beat in time to his lazy scribe. She smiled as realisation struck her. Oh, a musician. That fitted. She could see him being the mellow but deep music type.
His hand shifted just then, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt. Katy’s eyes widened slightly. It was faint, but the light still managed to illuminate the criss-crossing of gleaming white scars that ran along his arm; brutally marking the pale skin. Just as quickly, he jerked the loose sleeve back down, covering the wounds from prying eyes. The young waitress returned to her work, feeling guilty but unable to shake the fleeting image from her mind.
A giggling little girl dashed through the open doors and swished a snapped twig in the direction of the nearest customers.
“Alakbam! Ala-ka-zooo!” She sang, waving her ‘wand’ with a little flourish. The pointy, black hat flopped about on her head, revealing bright red curls underneath.
Katy sighed. She had forgotten the bookshop next door was holding a Worst Witch signing.
He had finally looked up, his attention momentarily distracted. Katy followed his gaze to the bubbling child who was now dancing around her mother’s legs. For a second she thought maybe he knew them. But then she saw the pained pinch at the edge of his eyes; the fond but bitter shadow to the lift of his mouth; and she slowly realised. There was a hidden memory storming behind those guarded eyes. His slight smile flickered between secret happiness and devastating loss, too quickly to observe.
When the woman reached down to stroke the girl’s fiery curls, his eyes hardened and he flinched away. Fragile emotion cracked through his façade and for a few seconds, she could see the past he was running from. The hurt, anger, jealousy and destructive despair; all so volatile that they nearly knocked the breath out of her where she stood. The freezing darkness, the guilt, shattered hope and a broken but fiercely enduring love – she glimpsed it all as it ghosted over his features in that weakened heartbeat.
She didn’t know what he was reliving, what he’d done or what he’d left behind; but it rocked her to her core. Her gaze turned to the little girl. What was it in her that had reminded him so strongly of another time and place; one that he seemed to hate almost as much as he desperately needed.
As fast as it had come, it was gone again. Turning back, she found his expression only mildly thoughtful. The notebook was replaced with a novel; aura of calm perfectly intact again.
“…latest footage from the scene…. possibility of a massive structural collapse caused by an unrecorded earth tremor….”
The rolling news bulletin droned on, mostly unnoticed in the bustling café. When Katy did glance over, all she could see was a desert canyon; hardly ground breaking.
Looking away, her eyes fell upon an empty table.
A twinge of regret clutched inside her chest. When had he left? Cursing her lack of initiative, she shuffled over to clear up, but paused as she caught sight of the dropped book. He must have left very abruptly.
‘The Call of the Wild ’. She hesitated, before carefully flipping over the cover to the single note scrawled inside.
She couldn’t help the nudge of envy and disappointment. Katy thought about the one who had written the private and loving declaration. Was she the one he was running from? Was it her behind all that wounded rage and betrayal; guilt and grief? Was it she who that wretched love still burned for? Katy felt angry. Upset on the behalf of a boy she didn’t know, at an anonymous girl who had destroyed him after claiming to love him so. What kind of person did that? She couldn’t imagine this girl being worthy of the love they had shared; the love that was still consuming him.
Glaring at the innocent and intimate words, she snapped the book shut.
Challenge: #6 Outsider Perspective
Fandom: Buffy
Pairings/Characters: Oz, OC
Summary: Through a stranger's eyes. End of Season 7
Rating: PG
Warning: Depending on the interpretation
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadly.
Word Count: 1000
--
Meanwhile
“Sorry! This stupid thing-” Katy sagged in relief as the coffee machine gurgled into life. “It seems to have developed a contentious dislike for me.”
“Harsh. I get the same attitude from waffle makers. We’re still not speaking.”
The waitress grinned as she turned around to face her customer. He was different somehow. Even in the packed café, he seemed strangely disconnected. There was something in his manner that felt aimless; almost world-weary. His clothes were faded and his hair was cropped into messy black spikes. In contrast to the queue behind him, he was waiting calmly, stance relaxed and unhurried; like he had no-one to meet or place he needed to be.
“Yeah, appliances are tricky.”
He smiled in sympathy. Well, it wasn’t really a smile in the traditional sense. It was more there in the softening of his features and tug in the corner of his mouth. Katy felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She wanted to ask what brought him here, but something stopped her. His cutting eyes were oddly intense. Bright orbs of jade green that glowed warmly yet kept a wary distance, silently warning of a dangerous darkness just behind them. She couldn’t explain it; it was just instinct.
“There you go; one American coffee for one American.”
There was that almost smile again.
“Gotta do my bit for the cultural clichés”
As he moved to a table, she noticed that his movements were unusually graceful for a guy; fluid and lithely balanced, in a way that made Katy think of her cat for some reason.
Her gaze travelled his downcast profile. Those same haunting eyes were narrowed in concentration, pencil twitching in his hand, the only sign of emotion to escape his stoic features. His entire demeanour was one of cool detachment, like an oasis of reasoned calm in the crowded café. This guy seemed to have Zen down to a fine art.
His fingers tapped distractedly against the tabletop; gently rapping out a rhythmic, musing beat in time to his lazy scribe. She smiled as realisation struck her. Oh, a musician. That fitted. She could see him being the mellow but deep music type.
His hand shifted just then, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt. Katy’s eyes widened slightly. It was faint, but the light still managed to illuminate the criss-crossing of gleaming white scars that ran along his arm; brutally marking the pale skin. Just as quickly, he jerked the loose sleeve back down, covering the wounds from prying eyes. The young waitress returned to her work, feeling guilty but unable to shake the fleeting image from her mind.
A giggling little girl dashed through the open doors and swished a snapped twig in the direction of the nearest customers.
“Alakbam! Ala-ka-zooo!” She sang, waving her ‘wand’ with a little flourish. The pointy, black hat flopped about on her head, revealing bright red curls underneath.
Katy sighed. She had forgotten the bookshop next door was holding a Worst Witch signing.
He had finally looked up, his attention momentarily distracted. Katy followed his gaze to the bubbling child who was now dancing around her mother’s legs. For a second she thought maybe he knew them. But then she saw the pained pinch at the edge of his eyes; the fond but bitter shadow to the lift of his mouth; and she slowly realised. There was a hidden memory storming behind those guarded eyes. His slight smile flickered between secret happiness and devastating loss, too quickly to observe.
When the woman reached down to stroke the girl’s fiery curls, his eyes hardened and he flinched away. Fragile emotion cracked through his façade and for a few seconds, she could see the past he was running from. The hurt, anger, jealousy and destructive despair; all so volatile that they nearly knocked the breath out of her where she stood. The freezing darkness, the guilt, shattered hope and a broken but fiercely enduring love – she glimpsed it all as it ghosted over his features in that weakened heartbeat.
She didn’t know what he was reliving, what he’d done or what he’d left behind; but it rocked her to her core. Her gaze turned to the little girl. What was it in her that had reminded him so strongly of another time and place; one that he seemed to hate almost as much as he desperately needed.
As fast as it had come, it was gone again. Turning back, she found his expression only mildly thoughtful. The notebook was replaced with a novel; aura of calm perfectly intact again.
--
“…latest footage from the scene…. possibility of a massive structural collapse caused by an unrecorded earth tremor….”
The rolling news bulletin droned on, mostly unnoticed in the bustling café. When Katy did glance over, all she could see was a desert canyon; hardly ground breaking.
Looking away, her eyes fell upon an empty table.
A twinge of regret clutched inside her chest. When had he left? Cursing her lack of initiative, she shuffled over to clear up, but paused as she caught sight of the dropped book. He must have left very abruptly.
‘The Call of the Wild ’. She hesitated, before carefully flipping over the cover to the single note scrawled inside.
I love you
All of you
All of you
She couldn’t help the nudge of envy and disappointment. Katy thought about the one who had written the private and loving declaration. Was she the one he was running from? Was it her behind all that wounded rage and betrayal; guilt and grief? Was it she who that wretched love still burned for? Katy felt angry. Upset on the behalf of a boy she didn’t know, at an anonymous girl who had destroyed him after claiming to love him so. What kind of person did that? She couldn’t imagine this girl being worthy of the love they had shared; the love that was still consuming him.
Glaring at the innocent and intimate words, she snapped the book shut.