we have found our solace here in this unexpected place

[herotypical]

Who: slaying & lists_to_port
What: there is a tradition that needs to be upheld on the eves of horrors.
When: sunday night.
Where: good spirits, at first. then elsewhere.
Summary: debriefing and de-traumaing and all kinds of good stuff.
Rating: danger danger high voltage -- things get r-ratedish. fair warning!

Back on Friday, Buffy had scribbled a tense little note to Captain Jack Sparrow:

Need some time. Don't worry. Mission accomplished -- no deaths. Just gotta look after me for a bit. Good Spirits on Sunday night?

-- Buffy

After returning to the village, Buffy had wanted nothing more than to find the pirate and curl up next to him. But the fight with Derek had been harder than she would care to admit and she wanted to scrub as much of that from herself before rejoining the rest of Luceti. She had Giles to look after and she had her own mind to tend to and she spent hours focusing on those meditation crystals -- begging for peace. Peace was so far away.

But on Sunday, Buffy took a long long bath. She put loose, fashionable curls in her hair and she took the luxury of all the time in the world to dip into her make-up drawer and line her eyes and mascara her lashes and pick a natural, light lip gloss. The aim was to look healthy if she couldn't look happy.

She walked into Good Spirits with apprehension in her step and looked around for the man she had asked to meet with her there.

Comments

[all7seas]

"Then I should acquire one, so that I can translate said messages and uncoordinate those colors and wreak. A bit of mayhem. For a lark. Love."

The pirate was growing sleepy, relaxed; he felt so well-cared for and warm and with her.

[herotypical]

"...Eat more cereal."

[all7seas]

"Hmmm?" He slid his hand over hers, the one resting on his belly. "How will that help with the finding of the ring of power, Buffy?"

[herotypical]

"Well? You can't tell anyone that I'm giving away this extra-special team good secret but," she smiled against his skin. "Cereal boxes? That's where us hero-types hide all our gadgetry. I got my very first team good decoder ring in a box of Froot Loops."

[all7seas]

"I see. And here I'd thought the stuff tasted horrid. Right. Your secrets, darling, and those of your compatriots are no longer safe. Sorry."

He reached back to draw her leg across his body, keeping his hand behind her knee.

[herotypical]

Her foot found its way on the other side of him. Tangling them up, once again.

"Just don't tell them it was me. I'd hate to get kicked out."

[all7seas]

"I'd never compromise your secrets that way, Annie. You're so very lovely, you see, and I've grown fond of you, and if you were sadly kicked to the street by your lawful secret club, I'd feel a bit responsible for you. It would be sad, like---you, forlorn, neglected, out of the club..."

He would be eating so much more cereal, now, just to find a ring.

[herotypical]

"...This isn't going to turn into a musical, is it?"

Her thumb stroked across his stomach and she could feel his wings against her skin. She could grow to like this trying to play the holder rather than the holdee. Buffy bowed her head and kissed the edge of a feather.

[all7seas]

"Musical? Is it? I hadn't noticed."

The reason he wasn't making much sense was because he was so wrapped up in what she was doing to him.

[herotypical]

"Well, not yet." She took a break from the kisses to labour this point. "But any more talk of being kicked to the streets and...and forlornness? And I'm sure a breakaway number would be soon to follow."

[all7seas]

"I rather hope it doesn't; I was enjoying the quietness of House 2, wasn't I. Annie, if you were all forlorn I'd cheer you up straight off. A sadder sight than that I cannot picture."

[herotypical]

"Puppies. Abandoned puppies."

She would be nodding sagely if he could only see her. "Abandoned puppies would be a sadder sight."

[all7seas]

"Annie? That would in no way be sadder. You forlorn would be sadder than abandoned puppies."

[herotypical]

"Clearly you have very little experience with abandoned puppies."

[all7seas]

At that, he turned to face her, trying to keep that warm quilt firmly over them both. "Abandoned puppies, savvy? Sad, sad little things---big, great, sad eyes. Little puppy tears tricklin' down. Fluffy. What happens, eh? The people cluck their tongues and 'Oh, oh how precious' and take them home straightaway and place them on large fluffy cushions and feed them tinned meat and give them bones to chew and generally make much of them.

Forlorn Buffy, on the other hand...?"

[herotypical]

"No -- her? Her you take to an abandoned house and draw on her. 'Cause tinned meat doesn't really sound that delicious and I'm not even touching the chewed bones."

[all7seas]

"Aye; that is exactly what I did with her, and I'm not sorry. Though---smudgy." He ran a hand across her belly where the poem and vine were pretty much obliterated in a mess of blue, green, and gray. The sparrow seemed to have survived intact for the most part. "Luckily, you are still bearing the sparrow mark, and that is a very fortunate thing indeed."

[herotypical]

"I think I'll leave it and then tomorrow? It'll surprise me in the mirror and I can remember all about the perks of being forlorn in the company of a very obliging pirate."

[all7seas]

"For they are many and they are beautiful," he agreed softly, sinking against her. He cupped the General's locket in his hand, turning the chain so that it hung against his back. He hated having that bit of shine between them, but he didn't dare take it off, particularly in a place with unknown variables like House 2.

[herotypical]

Buffy noticed the shift -- appreciated it although the locket's presence didn't upset her as it did him. Not to the same extent and not for the same reasons. Mostly? She felt gratitude that he carried it for her. And the day she asked it back would be a hard one.

"It might actually steal top spot from chocolate mint chip ice cream for forlorn Buffy fixing."

[all7seas]

Jack often thought about what would happen if Buffy asked for the locket back. Gibbs, of course, would expect him to uphold one of the most important rules of piracy: take what you can, give nothing back.

Sparrow did not want to give it back, not because it was gold and gold called to him, but because he knew what she wanted to do with it. If she asked for the locket again, she would do so because she wanted to walk to her death. That day would likely see Sparrow running again---from the village, possibly out onto the sea or into the mountains---to somewhere he wouldn't be found.

"Is that the flavor she likes?



Buffy? Captain Jack Sparrow always steals the top spot from ice cream. Always."

[herotypical]

When that day arrived, Buffy would only ask once. She might even ask politely. But just once and if he tried to stand in her way? Well -- that was her own bridge to cross, eventually. She didn't want to think about it and this happiness settling through her mind and body helped with that.

She smiled -- held him close. "A flavour. A flavour she likes. Amongst lots of other flavours and...and that doesn't sound like much of a conquest. Defeating ice-cream."

[all7seas]

"Well not when you put it like that; no, it doesn't. I'll still take it, however."

He would stand in her way, of course. Perhaps he would be the only thing standing in her way, though he hoped not; he figured he could count on McCoy to stand there, too.

[herotypical]

For her part, she had a few she felt would take her side. Fewer, perhaps, than Jack's cause would have. But she thought she would have Albert Silverberg -- expected it. Perhaps Derek would understand if he would still have her as an ally. Whatever took place? Lines would be drawn.

"So you're not so long in the sweet-tooth. I know that. Why don't you tell me about what you do like eating. A list that doesn't involve things I've already made."

[all7seas]

"Because you're going to cook for me?" The delight on his face was unmistakable. "When I was a child, my dear sainted mother used to make a delicious curry, with naan and vegetables."

Jack's mother hadn't been much of a cook, but she had worked wonders in the galley of the Misty Lady.