lucetilogs | melt your silver down / kiss your lover's face / the sirens start to sound

Current Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-heKSGZ4RA

Entry tags:

melt your silver down / kiss your lover's face / the sirens start to sound

Who: [Bad username or site: lists_to_port title= @ livejournal.com] & [Bad username or site: slaying title= @ livejournal.com]
What: a battle dome date
When: july 9th
Where: the battle dome
Summary: one part training exercise, two parts tourism
Rating: r -- for violence. and then who knows what. better to be safe than sorry idek?

Buffy Summers asked Jack Sparrow to meet her at the battle dome. It was a plan that had been discussed before the pirate had disappeared and now that he was back? Well -- she cared very little for dawdling. They had dawdled before but now was the time for seizing. She had yet to overcome the horror of waking up alone for yet another morning when she had expected to be the furthest thing from it.

People change. And Buffy mused quietly upon the changes to be found in Jack as she waited just outside the dome's entrance. She had a bag-o-weapons at her feet and a plastic bottle filled with some sort of over-sugared juice in her hand.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I thought once I'd like to be the last of the pirates. I learned differently. I learned the opposite, actually, Annie. The dead opposite. The life was the thing." He twisted his hands together and then let them fall to his sides, palms open. "I'd rather that piracy died, love---died as I know it---than to not be from your world. And I'm a lummox. Did I mention that yet?"

There were still so many questions: did all the pirates die out at once, during a decisive battle? Or had they been picked off one at a time? How long had the Court lasted? How long had they held out in Shipwreck Cove? But he tried to still them for now, because there was a larger truth eclipsing all that.

"I'm sorry."

"...C'mere."

Her big lecture was spent and Buffy felt tired. It wasn't from the battling -- those vamps had been a cakewalk. It was from all the loss packed into such a short period of time. Not just her own but his, too.

That was all it took to send him into her arms. Jack kissed her forehead, then her cheek. "Your town cratered, Annie, and myself a giant unworthy lummox," he mumbled unhappily.

She dropped the scythe and used this freed arm to tug him nearer.

"...But an earthquake's nothing to sneeze at, either." Buffy pressed her forehead against his chest -- her grip firm and uncharacteristically desperate for how controlled she had been behaving. "Worlds change and people change and back home I'm not even the Slayer anymore. I'm a Slayer. But the world keeps turning.

And maybe you're a bit lummoxy. But not unworthy."

"McCoy, he says I'm an infant. And I am. I am, love. My love." One hand crept up to tangle in her hair and press her closer. Jack found he needed this contact very much. Hurting someone on purpose was one thing; waking up and discovering that you'd been acting like an idiot was quite another.

"That's practically a pet name, coming from him." Buffy whispered her answers against his clothing. The flowers were bunched in her fist behind his back and she crushed him against her. Taking comfort for what she had heard but hadn't shared.

"Breathing....not..........happening..............now................Annie...."

"Wha--? Oh..."

She loosened her hold, but didn't step back. "S-sorry. Bad habit number three hundred and twenty eight."

"'Salright," he managed, catching his breath. "If I could choose a way to die, that would be it right there."

"...Let's hope it doesn't come down to a choice then 'cause -- me? I'd rather avoid affectionate manslaughter."

"No. You'd never."

Well. There would have to be kissing to drive that thought right out of her head, especially with Angel here, especially especially with Angel here.

Strangely enough, Buffy's mind did not leap to the Angel conclusion. Angel was very far from her thoughts. She was so caught up in this strange little philosophical argument -- the kind of thing she usually preferred to avoid when off her comfortable topics of duty and honour and Slayerdom and taking the fight to the bad guy. But she sank into the kiss with gusto, firming up her grip once again but holding well back from crushing.

For his part, the pirate kept his grip tight as well---firm and insistent, though not painfully so. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel that horror once more; the same horror that had led her to abandon him in the desert, and that in more recent days, he suspected, gave her that faraway-look. When he finally drew back from the kiss, Jack rested his cheek against hers.

"Buffy? Do you still wish me to bring you to Tortuga one day?"

"Yeah," the answer was quick. After all, Sunnydale hadn't even been so bad until -- until when? The ring. The ring and then the footsteps. And the voice. "Please."

"Next time, then. And you can dress the part as well, eh? And there won't be vampires."

Jack would probably think about that ring at an odd time in the near future: perhaps while he was tending the boat, or surfing with Derek, or sitting quietly in the sand to watch the sun rise. It would probably lead him to think of the rings he'd given other women and the tinfoil thing he'd given Buffy. Then it would probably lead him to the terrifying conversation he had had with Kennedy about marriage, and he'd quickly try to banish the idea of that ring from his mind. Still, treasure-y type things had a habit of sticking in Jack's brain more than other things did. He assuredly would not be forgetting about it.

"But there'll have to be something. That's the way the dome works."

And if Jack thought about it enough? Perhaps he might remember a written exchange with William Turner -- where Buffy had spun a rather poorly covered-up tale about a girl and a silver ring.

He might. He might remember that.

"Zombies, perhaps? Pirates for certain. In Tortuga, nearly everything's dangerous, even the smallest serving-wench. It'd be difficult to suss out what's put in there to harm us and what's just enjoying a Saturday evening."

"A challenge," she identified the proposal. "...I'm good for that. When the time comes."

"We've got...time. We've time ahead of us for it." There was an extra squeeze at those words; they both knew the truth, now, but Jack wasn't about to relinquish the idea that they still had time together. He was greedy for it and protective of it and adored it, all at once.

"I'd need time to rustle up something appropriately costumey, anyway."

And an extra squeeze back. They must've made quite the sight -- frozen together only a handful of strides from the library. Middle of the path.

Leather dress, he breathed against her ear. Then Jack kissed her temple and tugged on her hand. He wanted to get her home, now, but for entirely different reasons than before.

She would scold him for never giving that up except...except that might be one of those lovable virtues that she would name should she ever be pressed on pain of death to name any of them. Buffy held back just long enough to pick up the scythe and then she was walking with him. An improvement over the earlier walk on her lonesome.

"Can I wear an eyepatch?"

"Aye. A red one, to match your lovely wings. Perhaps I'll make it more fun and dress as a red-coated marine----we'd have a lovely brawl on our hands in the tavern then, wouldn't we?"

"...Would we?"

Because she had no sweet clue of why that would make it more fun.

How to explain?

Hmmm.

"Picture yourself, Buffy, wandering into a vampire party. How would they react?"

it was kind of hilarious

i can't believe it was there for FOUR HOURS.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaa

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

check your other tag. ;D

oihtosihto;ishet

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject