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

[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.

[herotypical]

"Curry." She'd never had it before. Heard of it -- of course. Possibly turned her nose up at it in the past. "I...I don't know how to make curry. Isn't that kind of hard to make?"

But now, she began to feel a little determined. Like Thanksgiving dinner, only...more personal. More intimate. It wasn't about successfully providing for her whole circle. Just for him.

[all7seas]

"Never knew you to be so easily daunted before, Buffy Summers."

Yes. Yes, that was mockery.

[herotypical]

"What? I'm not daunted. I'm dauntless. I'm daunt-free. I am like the vegan of daunt. As in I have none of it. Not even...not even other luxury daunt products like daunt leather and daunt -- yeah, this one kind of ran away from me. Never mind."

She lapsed into a sort of silence as she considered this challenge a little more carefully. She had to know someone who knew how to make a curry.

[all7seas]

"It...it ran far and fast, Annie." Silences were made to be taken advantage of, and he made himself available once more as a pillow. Jack had not eaten authentic curry in a very long time, except for some of the strange and delicious versions that found their way into the Caribbean from one route or another.

[herotypical]

"Sometimes," she admitted in a fashion that suggested she knew quite completely that this is no new news. "Sometimes I talk too much."

Mostly she was filling space as she settled back into enjoying a pirate-pillow. And thinking about curries. Were the spicy? Did they have to be spicy? Normally, she asked Derek about cooking questions -- but he was best with Italian. Maybe she should ask Raven on this one.

[all7seas]

"Mmhmm. And me so in love with the quiet, normally." It was a telling irony, but Jack's mental filters were far less staunch under this sort of circumstance. There was a reason women tended to slap him whenever they caught up to him.

[herotypical]

"R-right."

Quiet. She can do quiet. And not sulky, dangerous quiet. Not like a big cat waiting for the trigger to set her off and pounce. She can just be pleasantly, unproblematically quiet. Quiet and caught up in wondering about curry. And naan. What even was that?

[all7seas]

"Meaning I'm in...meaning I love listening to you speak, Annie. Is what I meant. Ironicalness--I can manage it, sometimes. Other times apparently not."

He could do quiet too, though. Just quietness and holding a girl---Sparrow could manage that at almost any time.

[herotypical]

As long as that speaking wasn't about vampires or death or ex-boyfriends. Or possibly also about icecapades because no one ever wanted to listen to her talk about those. She nodded.

But eventually this being quiet thing crumbled, anyway. "What's a naan? I mean -- you weren't talking about grandmothers, right?"

She had to ask. Too many of his stories involved cannibals.

[all7seas]

"Bread. Annie? You have no idea what you're doing with the Indian dishes, do you."

Warm and quiet amusement flavored his tone. Watching her try to do this would be fun.

[herotypical]

She had no idea what she was doing with most dishes. "Oh. Bread. Sure. I knew that." Slowly, Buffy compiled a checklist. Perhaps she could start next weekend. She would need a few trial runs -- this she was sure about.

And why couldn't there be someone here from India? Or why couldn't Jack have preferred Japanese food? Then she would have been laughin'. "I've never been a big fan of hot food."

Gosh, she could be such a wuss for such an otherwise tough individual.

[all7seas]

"This entire prospect terrifies you, doesn't it. Not all of it's hot, Buffy. Some of the curries are quite mild for the fainter-of-heart."

It would amuse Jack to be privy to her thought process. He was part Indian, and probably the last person she'd ever think to ask.

[herotypical]

"I am not terrified."

[all7seas]

"So terrified."

[herotypical]

Buffy should have known this day would eventually come. The day when Captain Jack Sparrow fully realized the power of calling her dauntlessness into question and how easily such a move could be used to encourage her in even the most unexpected directions. Buffy Summers didn't like being told what she was incapable of or afraid of. She didn't like having things decided for her. The pirate held fast to freedom on the waves and she clung to choices. Never mind that it wasn't much of a choice when someone was deliberately winding her up to it.

"Just you wait -- then you'll see how very not terrified I am. In fact? That curry can just go ahead and be terrified of me, instead."

[all7seas]

"Don't worry, love; I'm certain the curry is positively shaking."

Uh oh. If the curry does not taste good, he reminded himself, I must act like it is the best curry I have ever had. Ever.

[herotypical]

"...And they're not normally supposed to shake, right?"

Because she had no idea and she had better clear this up right now in case he wasn't just making a joke. "Just -- just checking. I don't know what kind of curries you're used to."

This was a disaster just waiting to happen.

that tag earns this icon.

[all7seas]

"Darling? The curry I want to be used to is your curry, savvy?"

And just to remind her to not worry quite so much about curries and the making of them when she was still in bed with Captain Jack Sparrow, he once again captured the longest of long red feathers between his fingers and twisted it very lightly.

...that poor monkey. i can now never disassociate it in that icon from buffy. it's scary.

[herotypical]

"H-hey." Her protest softened and a shiver shook her shoulders. That wasn't playing fair. Surely, it wasn't. But he was the pirate and she could hardly expect him to play fair. She was even beginning to suspect she didn't even want him to.