Conversations With, Like, WhatEVERS
The First, floating and amorphous, on the prowl; searching, in fact, for someone to frighten.
The blonde came into the alley, a pouty-faced thing in low-slung red leathers and high heels. She wasn't very steady on the heels; that, and the pout, gave her the look of an adolescent posing in her big sister's stolen clothes. It should have been endearing, that effect.
The First, expert beyond the ages of man in reading reactions, found itself actually wondering why there was nothing endearing there at all.
"Spike!"
It took the First a moment to realise the blonde in the red do-me clothes was addressing it. It hadn't noticed donning a dead man's shape; must have done so in reaction to the blonde's presence. That was two "what the hell" moments in as many minutes, far too many for comfort. It settled itself down in its borrowed muscles and tendons, and prepared to do a little serious tainting.
"Spike?"
The blonde sounded uncertain, neurotic, more than a bit suspicious. Her eyes, not her best feature in any case, narrowed to squintiness. It occurred to the First that the girl was nearsighted, and perhaps too vain to wear glasses. Someone ought to tell her, though, squinting caused wrinkles faster than anything except sunlight....
"Blondiebear? Are you mad at me?"
Blondiebear? What sort of ditzy, empty-headed, kitschy little - suddenly dizzy, the First shook Spike's head. With that movement, a name came.
"Hullo, Harm."
"Spikey! Oh, Blondie Spikey Boyfriend Bear, you're not not talking to me!"
Before the First could react, the girl it had instinctively called Harm - Harm? - flung herself forward, aiming presumably for the vampire Spike's welcoming arms. Since Spike was, in fact, a noncorporeal Evil in borrowed Doc Martens, she stumbled straight through, tripped, and fell flat on her face.
She was up so fast, the First barely had time to register the moment. It felt its interest pique. What in the world was this girl? Dumb as an ox, nauseatingly cutesy, fast as -
"What in hell did you do to Spike?"
(more in a bit)....
The First blinked Spike's eyes. Harm - that had to be short for something more reasonable, no one named their child "harm", you might as well give her a baby brother called Collateral Damage and be done with it - didn't sound frightened. She also didn't sound really curious, or even angry. She sounded - concentrated. She looked concentrated, too. Her cheeks were puffed out like a demented kewpie doll.
"I asked you a question. Where is my Blondiebear?"
"Relax. He's fine, as far as I know. Well - as far as dead people or, in his case, undead people, can be fine. This is just borrowed. I haven't done anything to him."
"Then why are you doing that cheesy shapeshifty thing? What's up, you watch too much Star Trek?" The girl sounded insultingly scornful. "I bet you go to cons and laugh at the people with the stick-on Spock ears. Hey! Geeks! Look at me! I can do it without a costume!" Unbelievably, Harm stuck her tongue out. "Ooooh, fear me, I'm the Big Assy Shape Shifty Guy! Jerk."
The First was conscious of a sudden overwhelming wish to be corporeal, just for as long as it would take to wrap its hands around Harmony's neck and crush her windpipe like a worm casing. Meanwhile, the girl kept on talking.
"So what's your real body look like, Skeevy Thievy Guy? I bet you're as ugly as dead bat's feet. I bet you went and borrowed my boyfriend's sexy hard little bod because you look like that Comic Book Store guy from the Simpsons, right? I'll just bet."
"I do NOT!"
The first bit Spike's tongue. What was he doing, arguing with this crazy bimbo?
"Suuuuuuuuure you don't." Harmony pushed her slender tummy forward, slouched as deep as she could go, and dropped her voice. "Worst. Spike. Impersonation. Ever."
"SHUT UP!" The First heard its own voice change, as the Spike mask wavered. He couldn't get a read on this Harm creature at all; she seemed to have no soul, no heart, no anything. Whatever she was, she was maddening, infuriating, enough to....
"So do you do any other party tricks, besides that shapeshifting stunt, which by the way is, like, totally not convincing, and anyway, you don't look anything like Spike, you big freakin' loser? Huh?"
The voice was driving the First out of its borrowed mind. It went on, as she stepped closer.
"I bet you didn't even ASK my Blondiebear. Did you? I bet you're just a big old ugly-assed WUSSY and you probably wouldn't have the stones to ask him to borrow his body, that's right isn't it, you don't have the stones so that's why you had to -"
"YEEEEEAAARRGH!"
The First, spectral saliva flecking its mouth, turned itself inside out and disappeared from view. Harmony stood quietly for a few moments.
"So," she said conversationally, "How'd I do?"
"Beautiful." Xander stepped out from behind a headstone and handed Harmony a twenty. "Here you are - my end of the deal. I'd tell you not to buy cigarettes with them, but hell, you're a vampire, your lungs? Not a problem."
She giggled, and took the twenty. "Thanks. That was the First? Really? Big Whup."
"Very big whup," he agreed.
They stood together in companionable silence for a minute or two. Harmony looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Xander? Did I really do that well?"
"Yep." He stretched, grinned, and turned towards the cemetary gates. "Worth every penny. That's the most fun I've had all week.
BWAH!
And the title. Most excellent.
what would happen if Jayne and/or Simon were subjected to Vogon poetry.
There's an interesting idea... must think about that.
connie, loving it.
deb, I like the Trophy piece.
Supposing it was the First talking to a ghost? Rather than the First talking to the living?
Supposing, for whatever reason, the First didn't realise the person they were talking to was actually dead already?
Funny, I was thinking about a scenario of the First summoning up the spirit of Adam (yeah, Adam) to discuss the concepts of existence and evil. Odd thought, that.
Victor, dude, you have got to write that. It would be amazing, and I suspect you'd do it superbly.
Victor, dude, you have got to write that. It would be amazing, and I suspect you'd do it superbly.
Maybe when I get back from Syracuse. I've had a Bunny for an AtS spec script around, and I may use this to flesh out some of what's in my head for that.
