Damsel in Distress, My Ass

[Rp for stillacrime This is involved in the Sam's Army storyline. The phone call happens ICly Wednesday night.]

Buffy kicked Angel out of the room, sent him patrolling then she changed into her pajamas, pulled her hair up into a ponytail and sat against the headboard of the bed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She had already talked to Danny like six times that day but she hadn't really been able to talk to him for long. He'd been at work and she'd been either in layovers, running to a plane or trying to arrange her motel room. Now she had Angel out of the room and she could talk. Not that she wouldn't have talked with Angel in the room. She just would have thrown things at him every time he made an expression. He knew better than to talk. Things had been awkward with Angel at first but they'd kind of ironed things out and Angel had asked if she was happy and when she'd said yes, he'd accepted it. There was still that tension between her and Angel but that tension was always always going to be there. It was too much a part of Buffy and Angel to go away.

Buffy hated this whole being away from Danny thing. Once she got through this whole battle thing, she swore even if the world did decide to end, she was not leaving New York City for a nice long while. It could decide to end in NYC or one of the other slayers could take care of it. Of course this was a little bigger than one slayer. In fact she was a little bit worried about this battle. Not only was she going to end up killing possessed humans, but they could do nasty, nasty things to her. Angel had instructions to actually go to New York and talk to Danny if anything happened to her. Of course he had to tell everyone else, but everyone else would understand. They knew the deal. Danny would be taken completely by surprise and she hated that. So she was kinda hoping not to die or end up in a week long coma this time. It would be nice.

After staring at Danny's number for five minutes, Buffy finally pushed call. She listened to it ring and when he finally picked up, a real smile curved her lips.

"Hey, Boyfriend."

Reasons I’m in like with Danny Messer

1. Have you seen him? Seriously. Let’s just get that out of the way right now and I’ll admit it’s shallow.
2. Porn. I’m getting the shallow ones out of the way right now and in bullet form. Just add the word porn after all of these. I can provide pictorial evidence if necessary.
• Glasses
• Tattoo
• Arm
• Wife beater
• Gun
• Cigarette (I kinda want to be a cigarette sometimes)
3. His hair. It’s fun to play with. It hasn’t got too much gunk in it so I can make it stick up or smooth it all down. Usually I like it all mussed up.
4. When he’s wearing his glasses, he lets me come take them off, put them on me (I have no idea why I like to wear them but I do) and mess up his hair.
5. Honestly, he pretty much lets me do whatever I want. God this makes me sound like a bratty girl but it’s true.
6. Boom. Really, just the way he talks period. The words he uses and the accent. I’m in love with the accent. Sometimes I just have him read things to me.
7. He fights. Every single day. I love that. There’s no way I could be with someone that wasn’t willing to fight every day. Or someone that just laid down and let life happen to them.
8. He’s so incredibly sweet and kind. Not just to me but to everyone.
9. He talks. We’re all pretty aware that I can hold a conversation with a wall but it’s nice to have someone who talks back to me.
10. He has no problem with sex everywhere.
11. He’s in good shape and runs a lot so he can keep up with me. And that’s all I’m saying about that.
12. He takes the stairs every day for me.
13. The one time we had to take the elevator, he distracted without any questions.
14. He takes me on faith.
15. He watches Ice Castles and “One Tree Hill” with me without complaining. Ditto for Kung Fu movies, which takes a special kind of resolve since I sit there and bitch about every. Single. Fight scene.
16. He has patience in spades.
17. He doesn’t care that I can kick his ass. In fact, he thinks it’s hot.
18. My favorite Marc Jacobs shoes are the centerpiece on the end table and he’s good with that.
19. I have over taken everything in his apartment and he’s actually happy about that.
20. He doesn’t give a damn that I can’t cook or that I’m not willing to try.
21. He made me Cookie-Dough-Fudge-Mint-Chip ice cream.
22. He’s on a campaign to redeem red roses.
23. He’s saving up money to buy me a cross I want, despite the fact that I have like twenty crosses already.
24. He took me to see Louie.
25. He actually likes my rambles.
26. He accepts it when I tell him I can’t tell him.
27. He let me hang my punching bag in the doorframe of the kitchen. I swore I’d take it down when I wasn’t using it but really, most of the time we just duck around it. He never, ever complains about it.
28. He likes the small of my back even better than the scar on my neck even though the scar is the most sensitive spot on my body. I like that he’s not picking the easy spot.
29. He never takes the easy way. It’s really sexy.
30. He’s got a motorcycle. I totally feel like Grease 2. Maybe motorcycle should be up on the porn column but I think there probably really is something called motorcycle porn and it’s probably not what I think it is. Although now I’m thinking about other ways to make the motorcycle porntastic that aren’t eww at all.
31. He doesn’t underestimate me. This is important because most people do.
32. He’s Catholic but he doesn’t care that half the time I call the same higher power he calls God PB&J half the time.
33. He’s thinking about introducing me to his parents.
34. He handles Emo!Buffy without flinching.
35. He’s so a sucker for my pouting.
36. He lets me play bad music (like Bon Jovi bad)
37. He lets me draw all over his body with purple glitter pen as long as I stick to areas of the skin covered by his clothes (work you know. He has to look respectable) and honestly I’m pretty sure if I really wanted to, he’d let me draw on his arms too.
38. He makes his mom’s lasagna for me.
39. He’s protective of me but he knows I can take care of myself so he’s not like all…he doesn’t care that I don’t damsel? If that makes any sense at all.
40. He’s incredibly indulgent of my coffee habit even though he knows he’s going to have to live with caffeinated Buffy.
41. Let’s just call it like it is, he’s incredibly indulgent of all my quirks. And there are lots and lots of them. That could be an entirely separate list.
42. Under all that good, he’s a bad boy looking for redemption. It’s just…such a turn on for me.
43. He’s not all American Joe. It works because I’m not all American Jane and I never, ever will be.

ETA He's a smart ass. Yes I like that.

"'Crush your enemy totally."- Law # 15 of "The 48 Laws of Power" by Robert Greene


( She's never felt him like she always did his counterpart )

f you find your world is cavin' in
You can bet your gonna need a friend
Someone to take those fears away

Say the word
Make a call and I'll be there
Anytime, anywhere
Have you heard
That I'm all about savin' your world
All you have to do is say the word

In response to this

Buffy was out half heartedly apartment shopping. She had a meeting with a realtor to look at an apartment on the Upper East Side just around the corner from Danny’s place. She’d taken one step inside and wanted to walk out. It was tiny and coffin like and she was pretty sure there were elevators bigger than that apartment. She’d stuck around and politely let the realtor show her around the postage stamp place. After she’d opened every window in the apartment and found that the one in the kitchen didn’t open. She’d only made it about twenty minutes before she had to flee, promising the realtor she’d call her.

She nearly dropped her frappachino when she saw the headline on the paper.

’Messer linked in Queens homicide case’

She did choke on it, coughing and sputtering as she grabbed up the newspaper. Her eyes skimmed the article and the picture on front made it clear that it obviously wasn’t Danny. She hadn’t met his family but she was willing to bet they were the Messers involved. Danny had to be freaking the hell out because she kinda was and it wasn’t even her Messer on the front paper.

“Hey Lady! This ain’t a library!” the paper clerk yelled at her. He shut up when she shot him a look that had been known to send vampires running. She scooped up all the papers with the headline that the clerk had, paid for them with her credit card. She clutched them against her chest and left her frappachino with the clerk. She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and started to the next paper stand.

“Hey, Boyfriend. It’s me. How can I help?”

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.

I think the idea of a soul mate is…

Soul mates are bad M’kay? Sorry, I was watching South Park last night. Do not judge me for my TV choices. I don’t sleep much.

So here’s the deal. I was sixteen when I met him and at first I wanted to hate him. He was smug and fanatical and smarmy. He was too good looking, too stalkery and too old for me. He just kept showing up at the most inopportune times spreading bad omens and gossip. So what if his gossip was usually reliable. No one likes a Gossip Gabby. He was always there and never, ever there. Push and shove, hot and cold. Contradictory much? We weren’t soul mates we were…anything but. The problem was, neither of us could deny there was something there between us. And that something wouldn’t go away no matter how much we beat it. He didn’t want it. I didn’t want it and we gave it stern talking to’s but you know kids these days, they just never listen.

And then…I went away for three months, came back and I was mean to him; he got jealous and that’s when whatever it was we had twisted.

I spent a lot of the next two years crying. Without meaning to, he became the reason I hate my birthday and I emo at Christmas. He is the reason I can’t stand Valentine’s Day or red roses. Prom is bitter sweet and that old song ‘I Only Have Eyes For You’ sucks. I was in love and I loved him but love is never ever easy. It’s not about smiles and flowers, fluffy puppies and Pantene commercial hair. It’s hard. It hurts. It takes work and did I mention it hurts? During those two years I also became unequivocally convinced that he is my soul mate. The thing is, you watch The Princess Bride (Unarguably the greatest movie ever) or Cinderella (it’s all about the shoes) or Ice Castles (it’s a great movie) and soul mates work. Sure they have some problems and he goes away or she goes away or whatever but then he buys her some shoes and they live happily ever after.

Guess what? It’s a lie. I mean…it’s a lie I like to buy into it as much as the next girl but it’s still a big fat lie right there along with the good guys always wear white, the bad guys wear black and good always wins. In fact, what they should do is tell you that soul mate=love=perfect happiness=pain=run away as fast as you can. So…then he left and there was more pain but at least there was an end to the pain, you know? And we still saw each other occasionally. LA and Sunnydale weren’t that far apart. If I needed help he’d show up. If I needed to chew his ass out for coming to my rescue without telling me, I’d show up. He was there for me when my Mom died. And when I got so lost we both agreed it was better that he not be there. He showed up to rescue me again and then went away to be my second front. Now he’s doing his thing and I’m doing mine. And I still know that if the world ends, he’ll show up or I will.

Somewhere along that screwed up way there was Riley and Spike. I cared about both of them. A lot. They weren’t my soul mates though. Xander tried to convince me Riley could be but Riley had too many issues with what I am and what I’m never going to be. I’m not the apple pie girl you take home to your Mom. And Spike and I…we’re better as great friends. I thought that soul mates were a one thing. You know? You get one and when that doesn’t work out, you just spend the rest of your life looking for someone that can live with the way your soul mate screwed you up. And then I met Danny and there was this instant connection (and wow that sounds so E-Harmony. Shut up. One of the girls signed me up against my will). It was one of those past lives things. You know what I mean? You know you’ve never met this person and yet you’re still convinced you know them? Yeah, anyway…is he my soul mate? God I hope not because I can’t handle another one. It will kill me and I’ll put a great big Do Not Resuscitate order on my corpse. What I’m hoping for is a little bit of normality. It’d be nice just to be in love and have it not be literally or figuratively a world ending situation. I mean sure we’ll fight but I don’t want it to be the end of the world. I don’t want him to go to Hell and back for me. Just down the street and around the corner would be great. Stalking me isn’t required but I have to admit a little bit of obsession is nice. Kissing him doesn’t make me want to die, but my knees do get a little jellified and that’s a good thing. Dying is bad and wanting to die is worse. I don’t want Danny to be my soul mate. I’ll settle for The Guy and he might be. I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell. The only thing I do know:

Soul mates are seriously overrated.

stillacrime used with permission and referring to the New York Storyline started/found here. Thanks to his mun for help with the Danny parts.

*Your muse is out running errands, or traveling, and finds themselves caught in a downpour with no raincoat or umbrella. How do they cope? Do they love it or hate it? Be as descriptive as possible, and by all means share how miserable they are if that's the case.*

Buffy doesn’t patrol with music and an ipod the way lots of the slayers do. Eva explained to her that someone named Abby on some movie called Sword or Blade or something she hasn’t seen yet made it cool. Instead she listens to the night, cats in the alley, sirens down the street and she hears the city breathe. New York is alive in a way that LA never seemed to be. It’s also undead in a way that she knows LA never has been. As in over run.

She’s already staked four vampires and is right in the middle of battling with a third when the sky opens up and unleashes its wrath. Rain is pouring down like a waterfall sluicing from a gutter. Her hair is plastered to her head, her baby blue sweater clings to her body and her high heeled boots are squeaking. This is possibly the most miserable Buffy has been in a long time. She was slightly cold before and now that she’s drenched to the skin she’s shivering.

Buffy hates the rain. It reminds her of things she’ll never have, heartbreak and death. It reminds her of cool hands on overheated skin and love so sharp it bleeds. She shoves the stake through the heart of her fifth vampire of the night then uncurls her fingers, letting it drop to the ground. With one hand she pushes wet hair out of her eyes and tilts her face up to the sky. That wound is open and it’s bleeding again. She wishes it would just heal already. Her breath shudders in her chest and she doesn’t want to be alone.

Running is faster; faster than a cab and faster than the subway. It makes her heart pound and that gaping wound doesn’t seem quite so deep when she’s running. Then she’s dripping at his door, breath come in little pants, heart hammering in her chest. She’s certain it is louder than her knock but either way it gets him to open up.

He looks confused at first then concerned, brow furrowing as he takes his glasses off and opens the door wider. She’s looking up at him with big eyes and trembling all over.

You’re shaking

C-cold

She steps into his apartment and already it’s warmer. “I hate the rain. I don’t want dry clothes and I don’t want to get underneath blankets. I just didn’t want to be alone.”

“Alright…” She thinks perhaps he’s more confused than he was when he let her in but he closes the door. She’s just standing in the middle of the floor dripping everywhere and then he’s behind her with a hand on her shoulder, thumb brushing against her shoulder blade exposed by the deep vee back of her sweater. She nearly melts back into him with a sigh, shivering abating for the moment.

“You’re warm,” she whispers, eyes closing as his hand slides over the curve of her neck, rubbing against the scar there and making her whimper. She can almost feel his grin as his arm slides around her shoulders and pulls her back against him. “I’m getting you all wet,” she warns him.

“Don’t care,” he assures her as he wraps himself around her and she thinks that maybe one day, she won’t always hate the rain.