Buffy Summers (
whattingawhat) wrote2008-04-18 11:00 am
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Entry tags:
Still feel all alone [I wanna go home]
RP for
stillacrime
The flight...yeah that had been impossibly long. Buffy had contemplated whether torture could make the pilot fly faster or maybe Will could do some magic hoodoo on the plane to make it move faster. Either way, taking too long. And there had been that creepy guy in the seat next to but she'd gotten moved to first class because she didn't play well with others. Whoever said being a problem child in life would get you no where clearly had not been a problem child confined to the small space of a plane in mid international flight. She half hoped the guy was okay and half hoped his pinky really was broken. Either way, she needed to let Giles know what she'd done. In case he sued. She didn't think he was going to sue. Right now, at this very moment Buffy was stuck behind someone's Scottish grandma with fifteen pieces of carry on luggage. The old woman was trying to maneuver herself, her bags and this giant shawl that looked like a shetland pony down the aisle. Buffy really wanted to pick the woman up, shetland pony and all, set her aside and get the hell out of this plane. Normally, planes did not make her claustophobic but at this moment, when Buffy wanted out, claustophobia was clawing at her throat and sending the freaking eagles in her stomach swooping all over the place. Buffy leaned forward slightly, putting on her best fake!cardboard Buffy smile ever and whispered through her teeth:
"Lady if you don't move I'm go to puke all over you."
Success! Only Buffy really wasn't making any friends this flight. The old woman looked at her alarmed, shuffled off to the side and Buffy shoved past her, taking care not to hit the woman with her carry on. See! She could be nice...ish...when she got her way. And then, the perils of being short came in. She was stuck in the middle of a moving mass all headed toward customs. Oh Customs. Her nightmare of nightmares. She hated customs and she was pretty sure customs hated her. It was not her fault that they didn't believe NYC was infested with rats that could only be killed by lethally sharpened stakes or wicked awesome scythes. Lucky this time, she didn't have the stakes or the scythe this time--okay one set of chopsticks possibly sharpened to lethal limits but really, you couldn't expect her to travel without anything! Hell hounds attacked her prom. Like they're going to avoid her international flight?--Anyway, she thought she looked perfectly acceptable and not terrorist-y in black capris, tee shirt --and oh...that could have been what gave creepy guy that idea-- and cute, black, kitten heeled slides that were doing nothing for letting her see over the masses of people. However, apparently the customs guy remembered her because they searched her, complete with pat-down--maybe the tee shirt was giving him ideas?--and carry on search.
Finally, finally and did she mention finally? customs gave her the all clear and she slipped through the security gates looking for Danny on the other side. It only took her 2.8 seconds to see but during those 2.8 seconds she was pretty sure he'd given up, gone home or gotten called away for work. She preferred the latter since the first meant she was stuck in New York on her own and that was just all kinds of sucktastic when she didn't know anyone here except Danny and via online chatting, Anna who was Danny's best friend and who exactly did she think was getting Anna in the divorce? Anyway--2.8 seconds and she saw him across the airport, which was obviously her clue to give him the once in a lifetime--who are we kidding, this is the start of many, get used to it bucko--chance to experience precisely what it was like to be full body tackled by 100 pounds of slayer. She had warned him ahead of time to brace himself.
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The flight...yeah that had been impossibly long. Buffy had contemplated whether torture could make the pilot fly faster or maybe Will could do some magic hoodoo on the plane to make it move faster. Either way, taking too long. And there had been that creepy guy in the seat next to but she'd gotten moved to first class because she didn't play well with others. Whoever said being a problem child in life would get you no where clearly had not been a problem child confined to the small space of a plane in mid international flight. She half hoped the guy was okay and half hoped his pinky really was broken. Either way, she needed to let Giles know what she'd done. In case he sued. She didn't think he was going to sue. Right now, at this very moment Buffy was stuck behind someone's Scottish grandma with fifteen pieces of carry on luggage. The old woman was trying to maneuver herself, her bags and this giant shawl that looked like a shetland pony down the aisle. Buffy really wanted to pick the woman up, shetland pony and all, set her aside and get the hell out of this plane. Normally, planes did not make her claustophobic but at this moment, when Buffy wanted out, claustophobia was clawing at her throat and sending the freaking eagles in her stomach swooping all over the place. Buffy leaned forward slightly, putting on her best fake!cardboard Buffy smile ever and whispered through her teeth:
"Lady if you don't move I'm go to puke all over you."
Success! Only Buffy really wasn't making any friends this flight. The old woman looked at her alarmed, shuffled off to the side and Buffy shoved past her, taking care not to hit the woman with her carry on. See! She could be nice...ish...when she got her way. And then, the perils of being short came in. She was stuck in the middle of a moving mass all headed toward customs. Oh Customs. Her nightmare of nightmares. She hated customs and she was pretty sure customs hated her. It was not her fault that they didn't believe NYC was infested with rats that could only be killed by lethally sharpened stakes or wicked awesome scythes. Lucky this time, she didn't have the stakes or the scythe this time--okay one set of chopsticks possibly sharpened to lethal limits but really, you couldn't expect her to travel without anything! Hell hounds attacked her prom. Like they're going to avoid her international flight?--Anyway, she thought she looked perfectly acceptable and not terrorist-y in black capris, tee shirt --and oh...that could have been what gave creepy guy that idea-- and cute, black, kitten heeled slides that were doing nothing for letting her see over the masses of people. However, apparently the customs guy remembered her because they searched her, complete with pat-down--maybe the tee shirt was giving him ideas?--and carry on search.
Finally, finally and did she mention finally? customs gave her the all clear and she slipped through the security gates looking for Danny on the other side. It only took her 2.8 seconds to see but during those 2.8 seconds she was pretty sure he'd given up, gone home or gotten called away for work. She preferred the latter since the first meant she was stuck in New York on her own and that was just all kinds of sucktastic when she didn't know anyone here except Danny and via online chatting, Anna who was Danny's best friend and who exactly did she think was getting Anna in the divorce? Anyway--2.8 seconds and she saw him across the airport, which was obviously her clue to give him the once in a lifetime--who are we kidding, this is the start of many, get used to it bucko--chance to experience precisely what it was like to be full body tackled by 100 pounds of slayer. She had warned him ahead of time to brace himself.
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He moved into the kitchen talking as he retrieved a big tuperware container from the freezer. "Now this is an experiment. You told me your favorite ice cream and I couldn't find it. Looked everywhere. So I bought cookie dough, fudge, and mint chip ice creams, melted them all, mixed 'em together and re-froze them." He proudly set the container on the counter and looked up to her with a grin. "It could suck, but... boom, there you go."
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Her words were cut off when Danny set the ice cream on the counter. She tilted her head back laughing and crossed the slight difference between them to hug him again. "You are...no words. Seriously. You're-I totally hit the jackpot the night I met you in that bar."
She kissed him soundly then leaned and reached over to pull the drawer she knew the silverware was in open. She snagged a spoon with the tips of her fingers, hopped up on the counter and wrapped her legs around Danny, pulling him close to her.
"We have to try it. I'm betting it doesn't suck."
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"I have presents for you in my bag too. Nothing as good as Cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip ice cream though. I hope you'll like them anyway."
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Inside was a white gold cross (http://www.shimmerandstone.com/cross-necklace13.html) necklace. He had to have one anyway if he was going to hang around her and she had liked this one and some of it's symbolism a lot.
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"I thought it was pretty. The fleurs made me think of you and I always wear a cross. I thought you needed one too." She paused and dipped her head to kiss the hollow of his throat then straightened back up. "I've got scotch and shot glasses in the clothes suitcase. I also bought you some special kind of scotch glasses that Giles sword you needed to enjoy the scotch properly. It lets it breathe because of the way it swirls...I have no idea what he was talking about. I asked why you couldn't just drink it out of the bottle and I got a lecture on scotch, how they make it, how they store it and how it reacts when you open the bottle. I promptly tuned it out."
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Later when he knew all about the slaying, she'd caution him to wear the cross all the time. Maybe even bracket some of the windows with crosses but for now, she'd let him just assume it was a gift.
"I think you won the present contest. You made me ice cream."
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