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Part of your world
8/11/08 16:37[Allow]
The nights are getting cold but Buffy is sitting out on the balcony anyway, bundled in her coat and sweats. She’s got Faith’s dagger (because it will always be Faith’s and there’s ritual to using it) and she’s carving stakes from some banister rods she found in a salvage yard weeks ago. She loves the way the wood smells as she cuts it; the way the knife slides through the wood, catches just a little and then giving. There’s a rhythm to her actions, a soft slicing sound accompanied by her motions. Carving stakes has become a sort of meditation over the years.
“Hey, Sunshine, you okay out here?” Danny asks as he steps out and lights a cigarette. Buffy takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of smoke and Danny’s soap.
“Yeah. I was running low on stakes. It’s been slow the last couple of nights. Giles always says we use the slow times to prepare for what’s coming. ‘Cause there’s always something else coming.” Her voice is quiet, barely making a ripple in the relative silence.
There’s a few moments where neither of them says anything; Danny moves to sit down next to Buffy, picking up one of her banisters as he does. She watches out of the corner of her eye as he turns it in his hand.
“I like balustrades,” she says absently as she finishes up one stake and lays it aside. “They’re already sanded so smooth. Fewer splinters.” After a moment she flips the knife in her hand, thumb and index finger on the blade and holds it out to Danny handle first.
He takes it with an eyebrow quirked up, a crooked grin creeping across his face.
“Careful. It’s sharp. Just do the tip…maybe two inches in, shaving it down to a point.”
His strokes are hesitant at first, growing stronger, smoother and more certain as the wood shaves off in short curls. Neither one of them want Danny in her world. She knows he’s too fragile and he’s not comfortable there but carving stakes is relaxing and it’s nice that they’re both here.
The nights are getting cold but Buffy is sitting out on the balcony anyway, bundled in her coat and sweats. She’s got Faith’s dagger (because it will always be Faith’s and there’s ritual to using it) and she’s carving stakes from some banister rods she found in a salvage yard weeks ago. She loves the way the wood smells as she cuts it; the way the knife slides through the wood, catches just a little and then giving. There’s a rhythm to her actions, a soft slicing sound accompanied by her motions. Carving stakes has become a sort of meditation over the years.
“Hey, Sunshine, you okay out here?” Danny asks as he steps out and lights a cigarette. Buffy takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of smoke and Danny’s soap.
“Yeah. I was running low on stakes. It’s been slow the last couple of nights. Giles always says we use the slow times to prepare for what’s coming. ‘Cause there’s always something else coming.” Her voice is quiet, barely making a ripple in the relative silence.
There’s a few moments where neither of them says anything; Danny moves to sit down next to Buffy, picking up one of her banisters as he does. She watches out of the corner of her eye as he turns it in his hand.
“I like balustrades,” she says absently as she finishes up one stake and lays it aside. “They’re already sanded so smooth. Fewer splinters.” After a moment she flips the knife in her hand, thumb and index finger on the blade and holds it out to Danny handle first.
He takes it with an eyebrow quirked up, a crooked grin creeping across his face.
“Careful. It’s sharp. Just do the tip…maybe two inches in, shaving it down to a point.”
His strokes are hesitant at first, growing stronger, smoother and more certain as the wood shaves off in short curls. Neither one of them want Danny in her world. She knows he’s too fragile and he’s not comfortable there but carving stakes is relaxing and it’s nice that they’re both here.
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