Wesley: Illyria can be...difficult. Testing her might be hard without getting someone seriously hurt. Angel: We'll make Spike do it. Wesley: Good.

'Underneath'


Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies  

Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.


Deena - Apr 04, 2003 10:55:47 am PST #3246 of 10001
How are you me? You need to stop that. Only I can be me. ~Kara

Gunn walked out of the house and looked around. If you didn’t know better, this would look like any small town with the pretty houses and the prize rosebushes, that is, if you could ignore the number of eyeless wonders wandering the streets. There were more of them now, a couple down two houses, three sitting in a flower bed across the way, and one just walking away up the sidewalk like a crazy old coot walking his dog on a Saturday afternoon in the spring.

Man, this was ridiculous. How was he gonna find a couple of missing slayers in Amityville town? Forget it. He’d head back to the hotel and see what Wes and Fred had found out.

***

“You’re translating that wrong! It’s not an intransitive verb there, and when you make it intransitive it changes the meaning of the text. The word endings have to follow and then you end up with something about recalcitrant beets.” Wes threw up a hand in disgust, turning toward Gunn as he walked in the door.

Fred jerked the scroll sharply out of Wes’s hand. “No, it’s not about beets! I know you weren’t..." She waved a hand in the air, and turned her head, searching for the right words "...but, but, it’s really elegant, in an inelegant way of course, because, you know, these are demons who eat every third young, and they weren’t so much about learning to write, like, poetry, or, but, it’s consistent, even when it’s inconsistent, it’s like a puzzle. See, right here? They ate their young to grow the…" She stopped when she saw Wes’s face. “Right. I’ll just keep trying.”

“What did Buffy say?” Gunn found it hard to look at Wes and Fred’s expectant faces.

“She’s missing.”

Angel walked in from the bathroom, toweling his hair dry. “Buffy’s missing? Like, missing where? A hell dimension?”

“Like missing, missing. She went patrolling and didn’t come back.” Gunn put the ax down on the table near the window and slumped back on the double bed closest to the door. “Why don’t we have enough money to get two rooms?" He looked around at ugly wallpaper and bad landscapes careful not to look at Angel at all. "I mean, this place ain’t the Hyperion, but… “ He trailed off as Wes cleared his throat.

“Obviously, this is a fraught situation. There are bringers everywhere on the streets, but we think we’ve found a spell to unmake them. We need the slayer though, one of them.” He shot Gunn a keen look. “What about Faith?”

“Faith.” Gunn smiled. “Also missing, went looking for Buffy.” Fred frowned at the look on Gunn’s face. “What?” She shook her head and turned away.

“Willow?”

“Passed out from a bad spell or something.”

Angel turned around and slammed the bathroom door. There was a moment of uneasy silence.

“How much time until sunset?”

“I got about 4 hours. Where’s Lorne?”

Fred piped up, her head still bent over the text. “He said he was going to see what this hotel had for a bar and maybe check out the karaoke. He doesn’t read Garlybrxmtl.” “Garlywhatsis, huh? I think I’m with Lorne.” Gunn slid off the bed and reached for his ax.

“Gunn.” Wes stopped him and he turned around. “Be discreet.”

Gunn caught the handgun Wes threw and looked at him, concerned. “Discreet? Do I even know how to use this thing?” He shrugged at Wes’s look of exasperation. “Yeah, okay, I do, but I like my ax.”

“Keep the gun.”

“Fine.”

****


deborah grabien - Apr 04, 2003 11:03:03 am PST #3247 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

Keep it coming.


Theodosia - Apr 04, 2003 11:37:39 am PST #3248 of 10001
'we all walk this earth feeling we are frauds. The trick is to be grateful and hope the caper doesn't end any time soon"

Gunn probably tucks the gun in the back of his waistband, like a gangsta. :-)


Beverly - Apr 04, 2003 11:53:28 am PST #3249 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.

Wunnerful!

not like she hopped a bus and changed her name to Jane or something.”

Um, that would be Anne. You know. Because she did, once.


Atropa - Apr 04, 2003 12:09:45 pm PST #3250 of 10001
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.

(Done with Plei's encouragement)

---

She had been missing for two weeks when the waitress at her favorite diner handed him the note. No name, but looking at her notes during hours of dry-eyed research made her girlishly-rounded scrawl as familiar to him as his own.

The bitter satisfaction of her turning to him for help ("again", Lilah's voice said in acid-honey tones) wasn't marred at all by his guilt at still wanting her in the face of his grief; but changed into something that could, if he didn't stop to examine it too closely, be called happiness.

She didn't answer when he knocked and called her name. Forcing his way through a locked door still made him feel like he was play-acting at being someone competent, but that didn't stop him from doing it.

She was crouched in the corner between the bed and the wall. Her eyes were huge and dark in the gloom of the curtained room. He knelt down to check on her, felt a dark surge of glee as she threw her arms around him. She was cold and shaking as she burrowed into his jacket seeking warmth and comfort; or so he thought right up to the point she pulled his gun from the holster. He felt her face become ridged, but refused to believe it until she met his shocked stare with feral golden eyes.


askye - Apr 11, 2003 7:13:37 am PDT #3251 of 10001
Thrive to spite them

Okay, I finally have a Buffista place to post my Due South drabble---

"First Sight"

Francesca asked me once if I believed in love at first sight and I do, very much so. Though when I first met Ray I was blinded by deception and misunderstanding. When our case was finished I found myself alone with these truths: my home was gone, Ray Vecchio’s goodbye misunderstood, and I was left alone again. Then I looked at him, this man, this stranger, without trying to prove him a liar or a lunatic and was struck— needwantpurelove —it left me unbalanced. I thought, “I’ll be his friend, I’ll keep him close. I won’t be left behind again.”


Elena - Apr 11, 2003 8:02:21 pm PDT #3252 of 10001
Thanks for all the fish.

I'm loving everything. Deena, I cannot wait to see more of this. And I love how many more ficwriters we have!


kat perez - Apr 11, 2003 10:47:55 pm PDT #3253 of 10001
"We have trust issues." Mylar

I felt inspired by reading all the drabbles to break out of my lurker mode in here and write the gun/note/motel 200 word. I'd like to post it but it is spoilery for BtVS, because I'm a huge old spoiler ho. Can I post it here whitefonted or should I just sit on it? I feel really weird even thinking about posting something in fic with such excellent writers, but there you go. Now I'm gonna his post message real fast before I lose my nerve.


§ ita § - Apr 11, 2003 10:51:03 pm PDT #3254 of 10001
Well not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction.

Please don't post a whitefonted NAFDA spoilery story here.

Though I'd love to read it ... later.


Connie Neil - Apr 11, 2003 10:51:11 pm PDT #3255 of 10001
brillig

Post! Whitefont if spoilery, but post!

edit: Ummm, why not whitefonted?