February 10th, 2004

tank girl


PokerDawn watched Spike as he wandered through the house. Checking the doors, the windows, making things safe. It would have taken half the time if he allowed her to help, but he always refused, claiming he worried she'd miss something. Didn't like that she was out of his sight, scared they might be seen.

She tolerated it now. It was easier than fighting him and the ritual calmed him, settling him down for the evening.

Finishing his rounds and satisfied that all the hatches were battened and they wouldn't be disturbed, Spike produced a deck of cards.

"Deal. Aces high."

open_on_sundaychallenge #46: doorways
Part of the Mischief!verse
tank girl


DissimulationSpike and Dawn were seated on the far side of the exercise room at the back of the Magic Box. They were watching as Wolf tried to teach Oz how to transform into a wolf and not something that looked like a bad costume from a 50s B-movie. She was failing miserably and had resorted to banging her head against the wall in frustration.

Dawn frowned in concern, but as Spike had just snorted in amusement at the behaviour, she refrained from commenting.

Spike was glad he wasn't in Wolf's shoes, trying to erase the damage of a lifetime of indoctrination by movie, was not going to be an easy task.

"So, how did you meet Wolf?"

"At a club in New York back in the 70s, love."

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15minuteficletsword #41: submission
Part of the Wolf&Declán!verse