Yeah, I said "drabbles" but that was a lie.Title:
Show Don’t TellWord count:
Faith’s words are misunderstood, but actions speak louder.Warnings:
The boys and girls belong to Joss, even though I’m often much nicer to them than he is.Author’s Notes:
This one was for marguerite_26
; she asked for Buffy/Faith, misunderstood, first kiss
“Hey, Buffy,” Faith said as she stretched, feeling energy zinging through her body in the wake of the last dusting. “Gotta love getting busy with the vamps, right? Must make you miss that good low-down tickle.”
Buffy’s back went stiff. She turned to face Faith, her mouth pinched in anger, and Faith’s stomach dropped. “Don’t.”
Faith swallowed. “Yeah, whatever. You don’t have to freak out about it.” Who cared if Buffy didn’t want her back?
“Freak out?” Every word came out cold and clipped. “I think I’m being pretty calm. Don’t make another crack about Angel. We’re done, and - ”
“Whoa, that is not
what I meant.”
Fuck come-ons, actions spoke louder than words and they were clearer, too. Faith couldn’t explain what she meant with Buffy, it always came out wrong. She reached out, a hand on Buffy’s tensed arm to keep her still just a for a moment. Long enough to lean in and press her mouth to Buffy’s, to fit their mouths together like a perfect roundhouse, movement and desire coming together.
Buffy sucked in a startled breath, stealing Faith’s air. Faith waited for the reaction, tensing for the counter-strike. What would she say?
Buffy said nothing. She sank into the kiss, her mouth softening. She slid her hands up Faith’s neck, thrilling her with the edge of danger, and cradled her face as the kiss went on and on and on, filling Faith’s body with heat. Buffy’s tongue teased into Faith’s mouth, thrilling her with the knowledge of being wanted.
Well. Buffy had always been actions-over-words, too.Title:
After spending so long yearning for Hogwarts, Dean wants to be outside, away from the stone. So does Luna.Warnings:
The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.Author’s Notes:
This one’s for angelbabe_cj
, who asked for Dean/Luna, ribbons and flowerpots
It was on a walk after lunch that Dean found Luna. She was sitting cross-legged against Greenhouse Three in rampant disregard for physical safety. He sat down next to her in the dust, fitting his back against the cool glass; it would, Dean felt, be simply unsporting of the universe to kill either of them at this juncture.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Luna smiled at him. She was surrounded by little boxes spilling out bows and ribbons and bright beads. Flowerpots sat among them, blooming around her like terracotta flowers. “I’m decorating flowerpots. Tonight is June’s first new moon, the first new moon since the anniversary of the Battle.” Luna said the word battle
light as air, so that it spilled from her lips without any of its usual pained weight, and Dean could have loved her for that alone. “That means little Vinceres will want to mate tonight. They need enclosed spaces that are bright and colourful, like a celebration. So I’m going to decorate these and leave them by the greenhouses tonight.”
Dean had never heard of Vinceres, and he doubted very much that Professor Grubbly-Plank had either. He paused.
“Do you want some help?”
Luna’s smile burst forth on her face, bright and startling; it left Dean blinking like he’d looked into the sun. “Yes please, Dean!” She looked over her equipment, and found a small paintbox and a jam-jar full of water. “If you could paint things on them - it doesn’t matter what, it’s just the colour and the talent that attracts Vinceres - that would be wonderful!” She passed him another jam-jar, this one full of stubbly paintbrushes. As he took it, Dean felt the chill of her fingers. He wanted to take them in his, rub them until they were warm. Instead, he sat and chose the colours for his first design: an abstract swirl of blue and gold.
Luna told him about Vinceres. The buzz of bees, and the rustle of the Forbbiden Forest’s trees talking to each other, mingled with her voice. Dean concentrated on the flowerpots, his eyes on his work, although warmth spread through him from where Luna’s knee touched his.
Paint smudged his fingers and dripped down his forearms, and the ground was hard from the unScottish weather. But he didn’t consider suggesting they go inside. After Dean’s months on the run, months when he’d dreamt of nothing but being inside, and warm, and safe, he now yearned to be outdoors. It felt safer, now, to be somewhere where he knew he couldn’t be trapped. For all that Dean had spend so long missing the faded, rich colours of Hogwarts’ tapestries, now he wanted greens.
He glanced sidelong at Luna. She was bent over a flowerpot, frowning as she tried to affix a plum-coloured ribbon to its crown. Her blonde hair was tumbled around her face. Dean remembered the way that when Luna was inside, the grey of Hogwarts’ stone seemed to reflect itself onto her face, washing her luminescent face with grey, and he thought that maybe she felt the same.
They didn’t talk about that, though. They sat and waited for the flowerpots’ paint to dry while the sun warmed them right through. Then they glued on sequins and ribbons and beads, putting off going inside, while the sun turned orange and rose-pink. Dean told Luna about watercolours, and she told him about Snorcacks. He created an elaborate sequin-studded Milky Way on one flowerpot while Luna’s blonde hair blushed with sunset colour.
Their hands met as they reached for one flowerpot. Dean froze as Luna turned enormous blue eyes to his. She blinked at him slowly, and Dean felt caught: an animal in a trap.
But Dean had seen enough of Luna to know that she was quite capable of calming any animal, whether wild or domestic or something in-between. It was because they knew they were safe with her. Dean closed his eyes and waited for the kiss.This was originally posted at http://www.dreamwidth.org/12345.html. Comment wherever you like :)