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Below are the drabbles I wrote for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
whedonland 20in20 competition. ALl 20 drabbles are under 500 words and some of them use prompts from 5_prompts.
The first 10 are centered around the Firefly fandom, set after the movie.
The next 5 are centered around Lorne from Angel.
The last 5 are centered around Oz from Buffy, after he left Sunnydale.
There shouldn't be spoilers for anything unless you haven't seen Serenity.
1. prompt = Family
Mal hated eating meals alone. It happened from time to time when everyone was busy or were out on various missions. Thankfully, those times were few and far between so that he didn’t have to sit alone in the silent mess.
Like he was at the moment. He’d thought everyone was behind him but they’d thinned out and all but disappeared as dinner was plated. It was as if they’d done it on purpose, all in agreement as to what would happen. Was it his birthday? He didn’t think it was. River’s cooking? That might explain everything a bit better.
Instead of sitting by himself, he picked up his plate and went in search of someone else to eat with. Anyone would be better than this silence of alone. He needed his family around him.
---@---
2. prompt = Competitive
“Bet you I can eat fifteen pickles at once. Bet you can’t.”
River narrowed her eyes at Jayne, trying to see the joke. He looked honest but that didn’t mean anything. It was often when Jayne was looking innocent that he was actually doing something devious. Fifteen pickles? At once? She didn’t think so. Perhaps there was a way she could make this bet work for her, though.
“Bet you can’t eat fifteen pickles at once and then kiss me.”
He paled. So he had been paying attention lately. She would have to thank Inara for telling her what those intense glances might mean.
---@---
3. prompt = Beginnings
Jayne couldn’t really say for sure when he saw River as more than just a little girl who was always underfoot. She was the odd duck, the girl who could read minds or whatever it was that she did. It was a parlor trick, nothing more.
Her newer clothing wasn’t a parlor trick. It showed off parts of her body that even her brother was concerned that she was showing off. When Inara caught him looking at River, she smiled that narrowed lip smile that told him she saw his looks and knew what they meant. He hated that she knew but he was compelled to watch River, just in case she did something else that was new and interesting.
As always, River didn’t let him down. She waited until everyone was in the room before she skipped over and plopped down in Jayne’s lap, as if she belonged there and she’d been invited over. Before her brother or the captain could say anything to discourage her, he put his hand on her hip, anchoring her to him.
She was his now and no one was going to take her away from him.
---@---
4. prompt = Danger
If she wasn’t mistaken, Simon had a new fire in his eyes. Every time he was in the same room with Jayne, the young doctor stiffened noticably. Kaylee was beginning to worry that someone was going to explode and it wasn’t going to be Jayne this time.
“Simon, why don’t we take the shuttle and go exploring for a few days? This is a lovely galaxy and we haven’t-”
“I can’t.”
She put her arm around his neck as she hung over his shoulder. “You can’t what?”
“I’m the only doctor on board this ship, Kaylee. I can’t just leave.”
It was hard not to chuckle at the intensity of Simon’s reaction but if she gave in now, she’d lose the argument. “Who’s in danger? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“A nowhere that you want to explore. Anything could happen.”
“But it never does.”
He pulled away, his eyes narrowed as he heard Jayne and River talking outside the door. “Never say never, Kaylee. You’re tempting fate.”
---@---
5. prompt = Humor
It was good to hear his crew laughing. Mal walked toward the sound, wondering what delights would be at the end. The laughing turned to cheering so he hurried forward in case he missed out on anything fun.
“Had enough?” Simon stood over Jayne who was sprawled on the ground. “I can show you how it’s done again, if you’d like.”
Mal sidled up to Zoe, clearly perplexed by this newest game. “Why’s Jayne on the ground?”
“Simon dared him to kiss River. I don’t know why either one of them is still standing. My guess is that Jayne’s been wanting an excuse to kiss River for some time now. This was just a good excuse for him follow through on both his dreams?”
“Both?”
“He’s been wanting an excuse to hit Simon for some time now. This is just the opening gambit. You got here just in time.”
Mal couldn’t help but laugh. It was true that he didn’t normally like fighting but this was too good to stop. “Who has the best odds?”
“Jayne, of course. Like I said, he hasn’t even gotten started yet.”
---@---
6. prompt = Eyes
River dabbed at the trickle of blood from Simon’s right eye. “Why am I the one here, Simon? Why didn’t you want Kaylee to take care of your wounds?”
“Because I don’t want you with him.” His words were jumbled as he tried to talk around two loose teeth and a bruised lip. The vision in his left eye was blurred so that he kept blicking, attempting to right it once again. “Do you remember, River, that we just had a fight that centered around you?”
She shook her head. “No, you had a fight with Jayne because you’ve been wanting to fight him since we arrived on this ship. I was just a convenient excuse. Please don’t do that again, Simon. If you want to hit him, do it because you want to and not because you think you’re being a good big brother.”
“Aren’t I good big brother?” It was also hard to frown, he discovered as he tried. Pain ripped through his face so that he decided his emotion would have to come through in his words.
“The best. And because you’re the best,” she dropped a kiss on the side of his face that wasn’t rapidly swelling, “I’m going to leave you here with Kaylee to offer her help. Because you’re the best, you won’t mind in the least that I’m going to offer to sew up Jayne’s split ear. That was a good blow, by the way.”
He attempted to scowl. “The best,” he repeated.
---@---
7. prompt = Finale
When all was said and done, Zoe loved a good fist fight. She had watched hundreds and been part of half as many. There had been a time when she thought she’d never feel that sort of exhileration ever again. Her heart had stopped, literally and figuratively. She had watched the life drain from her only love and known that her life was over.
But then her heart had started again. It was the strangest thing, to be brought back to life by the smallest heart beat in the world, nestled in a safe fold under her ribs. Her previous baby, a part of her and a part of Wash, had brought her back from what she had assumed would be the end.
Now she found herself laughing. She’d never thought she’d find something so entertaining but it really was a lark to watch Simon and Jayne try to beat the stuffing out of each other, both trying to prove they loved the same woman the most.
One day she might find another man who would throw a punch for her. For now, she had that comforting heartbeat to hold onto for comfort when the nights were longer than her dreams. It was enough.
---@---
8. prompt = Temptation
“I don’t need your help.”
River rolled her eyes as Jayne closed the door to his bunk. Her small fists pounded on the steel door. “Yes, you do. That cut on your forehead could get infected and go septic. It would be a pity for you to die because you let Simon get in a few good punches.”
As she knew it would, the door swung open and his wide eyes gazed out at her. “Septic?”
She pushed him back into the room, trying not to give in to the temptation to push him down on the bed and have her way with him. Better for the idea to be his or he’d only push her away. If she wanted to end up in his bed, she’d need to play this game by his rules.
“Sit down and let me help you.” Still he stood in the middle of the room, watching her closely. “What a pity. I’ve gotten you right where I want you and you just stand there, looking at me like I’m daft.”
“Aren’t you?”
“For thinking you’re smart enough to see an invitation when one is given? I guess I am.”
Try as she might, she couldn’t get to the door. His arms around her waist kept her from getting far enough across the room but that wasn’t where she wanted to go. Staying here was just fine with her.
---@---
9. prompt = Ship
Kaylee couldn’t believe her luck as she settled into the co-pilot chair of the shuttle. When she’d brought it up again, Simon had been much more agreeable. The fight with Jayne seemed to depleted some of the anger he’d been holding onto lately. She wondered if that was a good thing, considering nothing had taken the anger’s place. There was a void in his eyes that concerned her.
“Simon?” He grunted from where he was stowing one of his medical bags even though she’d questioned him for bringing it. “Have you decided where we’re going?”
“Yes.”
“Is that all I’m getting?” He kissed her instead of answering this time. “Okay, I’ll let you kiss me into silence. It’s enough that we’re going somewhere that isn’t here.”
He smiled at her as he settled into the pilot’s chair. It was enough to send her stomach flipping over with delight. “Do you have any idea how to fly this thing?”
“I thought you knew? Does this mean we’re not going on an adventure?”
She took the hand he offered her, letting him pull her out the cushioned seat. “No, it just means we aren’t leaving the docking bay. There’s a bed back there that looks pretty comfortable. Do you want to help me find out if it really is?”
---@---
10. prompt = Crossover
The light show out the aft windows was beautiful. Mal hadn’t heard there would be any disturbances in this area and this was definitely a disturbance. As he watched the flickering lights, trying to decide if he should take a closer look, a ship flew out of that exact area of space. Not through it. Out of it.
Mal blinked, just to be sure he’d seen what he thought he’d seen. Yep, it was still there. “River? You see that?” She squeaked a reply so she must have seen the same thing. “What kind of ship is that?”
Just then, the radio crackled. “Captain Reynolds? This is Colonel Steven Caldwell of the Daedalus. We need to talk.”
Mal stuttered a few times as he tried to figure out why this ship was radioing him personally. “Are you with the government?” he finally asked because he was going to know who he was working with this time.
“Not the one you’re thinking of but don’t worry. We’re on the same side as you.”
Worry was what he did best. It had kept him alive for more years than he’d assumed it would. He’d like some answers but what he really wanted to know was how they did that thing with the lights.
---@---
11. prompt = Lorne 1
The playlist was starting to get dated but Lorne wasn’t really liking any of the new songs he was hearing on the radio. None of them inspiried him the way that Aretha or Barbara still could.
A demon had com in last night, sweet little thing with three eyes and a multitude of curly ears sprouting from the top of his head, and demanded to know why there wasn’t any rap songs on the list. The very question had offended his musical sensibilities but he’d tried to word his response in the same gracious manner he ran the rest of the club. Apparently hearing Oh, god, none of that complete crap here hadn’t been what the demon had wanted to hear.
---@---
12. prompt = Lorne 2
“What do you mean they can’t deliver those orchids until Thursday? When I talked to you yesterday, you told me a Tuesday shipment was no problem.” Lorne tried not to give in to the urge to pound his head against the wall in frustration.
“There was a mix up, sir.”
He waited for further explanation but there was only silence on the other end of the line. Lorne took a deep breath. “I called you a week ago. You said it was no problem. I called you five days ago. You said it was no problem I called and left a message for you on Saturday. When I talked to yesterday, you said it was no problem.”
“Well, now there’s a problem.”
It was enough to make him howl in frustration. If these weren’t the most gorgeous orchids in all of southern California, he’d have hung up long ago. “So you can deliver them on Thursday?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“And there won’t be a problem this time?”
“It doesn’t appear that there will be, sir.”
He wasn’t going to hold his breath.
---@---
13. prompt = Lorne 3
The joint was jumping but still Lorne wasn’t happy. It was always the same songs sung by the same demons in the same horrible key. Nothing different every happened. No one different ever showed up.
Just then, the door opened. When he finally stepped into the light, Lorne couldn’t help but fight back a grin that nearly split his face into two. This was most definitely someone different.
He gave the man time to get settled into a chair before he walked over, a sweating drink in his hand. “What’s a rogue demon hunter like you doing in a place like this?”
---@---
14. prompt = Lorne 4
There was times when he missed the club. Having a office and a bevy of gorgeous assistants at his beck and call had definite perks but he missed the constant conversations flowing him around him. Most of the time, when he walked in a room, everyone stopped talking. It was his nature to crack a joke or offer up a complement, restarting the conversation again. At the club, there was never any need to restart anything. It had been his element. His life.
“Is this really your life?” he asked the man in the mirror. “Are you suddenly one of Angel’s gang of thugs? Is this what you’ve become? Can you handle the consequences?”
His heart twinged. Not because he was melancholy. No, this had been purely physical. It was impossible for him to tell where the pain had originated.
“Time to pack it in. Angel doesn’t need this broken-down songbird who can’t sing any longer. Time to pack it in.
---@---
15. prompt = Lorne 5
He walked away, a broken man. There was no longer a song in his broken and beaten soul. The things he’d seen and done had been enough to pollute his aura, driving away any hope of a happy ending.
“Damn,” he said, frightening himself and the man walking toward him as he said the word out loud. He muttered his apology, being sure to keep his head down.
Wouldn’t matter if people thought he was insane for talking to himself. The apocalypse was here. This minute, as a matter of fact. When he’d thought about the end of days, he never considered he’d be around for it.
What the world needs now is love, sweet love.
The world needed more than love, he decided. Some songs didn’t know what they were talking about.
---@---
16. prompt = WC 1 - Lips like morphine at5_prompts
Oz loved his van. It held equipment when he was in a band, large groups of people when he had friends and containers of flowers when he had a job. This was a pretty sweet gig, too. There was a back room that had a little fridge, a hot plate and a wobbly latch. He could park the van in the lot across the street but pop over after the shop had closed to make some dinner. There was a gym just around the corner with pretty decent showers. It was a good life.
Well, not good. Decent. It was better than nothing. It was better than watching the girl he thought he loved with all his heart loving someone else. He’d kissed her, hoping his lips were like morphine and she’d fall back into his arms. Not his Willow. She was too smart to fall for that old trick.
She’d always seen through him. Seen his tricks for what they really were. God, he missed her. Sometimes it was an actual ache in his gut but usually it was just the absence of what he’d had, glaringly obvious in these dark nights when he was alone. Alone in his van. He loved his van. But he loved Willow more.
---@---
17. prompt = WC 2 - Seems I’m losing my voice at5_prompts
“Sing us a song.”
Oz looked up, surprised that anyone had bothered to stop. There were plenty of other musicians out tonight, roaming the farmer’s market or sitting with their cases wide open on the off chance that someone had some spare change.
He shook his head, squinting at the glare of the lights behind the group. “Seems I’m losing my voice. It wouldn’t be worth your time to hear me sing.”
A girl stepped forward. His heart stuttered for a moment as he saw the red hair highlighted in the lamp’s glow. It wasn’t her, though. It was never her. “What’s that song you’re playing?”
“Something I wrote. You’ve never heard of it.”
“Haven’t I?” She smiled and, even though he couldn’t see her eyes, he could see her lips. Such a pretty smile.
He shrugged. Better to play along with them so they’d walk away from him. He turned up the amp so that others could hear his chords and began to play Willow’s Song.
---@---
18. prompt = WC 3 - Remembering the one I left at home at5_prompts
At every stop Oz made, he found the local library. For a small fee, and sometimes for free, he’d get on one of their computers and look up the goings on in Sunnydale. It constantly amazed him what the newspapers wrote up as news. He’d run with the Scoobies long enough to know how to read between the lines.
Sometimes he would print out the stories to enjoy later. In his van, he’d stretch out on the cot in the back and read the articles out loud. Sometimes he would pretend that Willow was there with him and they were laughing over how absolutely wrong the reporter got it.
But most of all he read the stories to remember the one he’d left behind. She was still plugging away at the constant threat of the ever-growing demon hoarde. “Take care of her, Buffy,” he whispered to the north star, hoping the Slayer got the message.
One day he was going to go back. Not today but someday.
---@---
19. prompt = WC 4 - These bright lights have always blinded me at5_prompts
The club owner was enthusiastic to have someone to fill in the empty slot in the evening’s rotation. As much as Oz wasn’t looking forward to being up on the tiny stage with all the bright lights blinding him as he tried to remember the words to at least three songs. It was fifteen dollars if the audience liked him. Not just today. If he was a hit, he could have fifteen dollars for the next five nights. That was gas for the van that he sorely needed.
“Ready to go on?” the stage manager/hostess asked him. “They’re going to introduce you any moment.”
He nodded, wishing there was someone in the audience who knew him and the songs he was going to sing. Being the new guy wasn’t his forte. It always helped knowing there was someone in the audience who was mouthing the words along with him. What he really wanted was a friend, he realized suddenly. He missed having a friend but, more importantly, he missed being a friend.
---@---
20. prompt = WC 5 - I want to feel the lightning strike me at5_prompts
He’d killed a vampire just as the midnight chimes started ringing. The pile of dust betraying his activity but there wasn’t anyone around to care. Oz threw the spike, really a bit of a broken chair he’d found in the alley, into the nearest trash can. Now he was clean of the evidence.
It stayed with him as he got into the van and made for the city limits. He’d taken a life. Even if it was a vampire who would have probably killed and drained anyone else that had tried what he’d just done, it still felt wrong. When he looked out the side mirrors, it wasn’t to see the city growing small in the distance but to see any sign of a dark cloud. He was waiting for the lightning to strike him down for his doings.
Where there was one hungry vamp, there was probably more. Who did he think he was, running away from a town that could use him? He was signing death warrants by leaving so quickly. The least he could do... and with that thought, he pulled to the side of the road and turned around.
whedonland 20in20 competition. ALl 20 drabbles are under 500 words and some of them use prompts from 5_prompts.The first 10 are centered around the Firefly fandom, set after the movie.
The next 5 are centered around Lorne from Angel.
The last 5 are centered around Oz from Buffy, after he left Sunnydale.
There shouldn't be spoilers for anything unless you haven't seen Serenity.
1. prompt = Family
Mal hated eating meals alone. It happened from time to time when everyone was busy or were out on various missions. Thankfully, those times were few and far between so that he didn’t have to sit alone in the silent mess.
Like he was at the moment. He’d thought everyone was behind him but they’d thinned out and all but disappeared as dinner was plated. It was as if they’d done it on purpose, all in agreement as to what would happen. Was it his birthday? He didn’t think it was. River’s cooking? That might explain everything a bit better.
Instead of sitting by himself, he picked up his plate and went in search of someone else to eat with. Anyone would be better than this silence of alone. He needed his family around him.
2. prompt = Competitive
“Bet you I can eat fifteen pickles at once. Bet you can’t.”
River narrowed her eyes at Jayne, trying to see the joke. He looked honest but that didn’t mean anything. It was often when Jayne was looking innocent that he was actually doing something devious. Fifteen pickles? At once? She didn’t think so. Perhaps there was a way she could make this bet work for her, though.
“Bet you can’t eat fifteen pickles at once and then kiss me.”
He paled. So he had been paying attention lately. She would have to thank Inara for telling her what those intense glances might mean.
3. prompt = Beginnings
Jayne couldn’t really say for sure when he saw River as more than just a little girl who was always underfoot. She was the odd duck, the girl who could read minds or whatever it was that she did. It was a parlor trick, nothing more.
Her newer clothing wasn’t a parlor trick. It showed off parts of her body that even her brother was concerned that she was showing off. When Inara caught him looking at River, she smiled that narrowed lip smile that told him she saw his looks and knew what they meant. He hated that she knew but he was compelled to watch River, just in case she did something else that was new and interesting.
As always, River didn’t let him down. She waited until everyone was in the room before she skipped over and plopped down in Jayne’s lap, as if she belonged there and she’d been invited over. Before her brother or the captain could say anything to discourage her, he put his hand on her hip, anchoring her to him.
She was his now and no one was going to take her away from him.
4. prompt = Danger
If she wasn’t mistaken, Simon had a new fire in his eyes. Every time he was in the same room with Jayne, the young doctor stiffened noticably. Kaylee was beginning to worry that someone was going to explode and it wasn’t going to be Jayne this time.
“Simon, why don’t we take the shuttle and go exploring for a few days? This is a lovely galaxy and we haven’t-”
“I can’t.”
She put her arm around his neck as she hung over his shoulder. “You can’t what?”
“I’m the only doctor on board this ship, Kaylee. I can’t just leave.”
It was hard not to chuckle at the intensity of Simon’s reaction but if she gave in now, she’d lose the argument. “Who’s in danger? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“A nowhere that you want to explore. Anything could happen.”
“But it never does.”
He pulled away, his eyes narrowed as he heard Jayne and River talking outside the door. “Never say never, Kaylee. You’re tempting fate.”
5. prompt = Humor
It was good to hear his crew laughing. Mal walked toward the sound, wondering what delights would be at the end. The laughing turned to cheering so he hurried forward in case he missed out on anything fun.
“Had enough?” Simon stood over Jayne who was sprawled on the ground. “I can show you how it’s done again, if you’d like.”
Mal sidled up to Zoe, clearly perplexed by this newest game. “Why’s Jayne on the ground?”
“Simon dared him to kiss River. I don’t know why either one of them is still standing. My guess is that Jayne’s been wanting an excuse to kiss River for some time now. This was just a good excuse for him follow through on both his dreams?”
“Both?”
“He’s been wanting an excuse to hit Simon for some time now. This is just the opening gambit. You got here just in time.”
Mal couldn’t help but laugh. It was true that he didn’t normally like fighting but this was too good to stop. “Who has the best odds?”
“Jayne, of course. Like I said, he hasn’t even gotten started yet.”
6. prompt = Eyes
River dabbed at the trickle of blood from Simon’s right eye. “Why am I the one here, Simon? Why didn’t you want Kaylee to take care of your wounds?”
“Because I don’t want you with him.” His words were jumbled as he tried to talk around two loose teeth and a bruised lip. The vision in his left eye was blurred so that he kept blicking, attempting to right it once again. “Do you remember, River, that we just had a fight that centered around you?”
She shook her head. “No, you had a fight with Jayne because you’ve been wanting to fight him since we arrived on this ship. I was just a convenient excuse. Please don’t do that again, Simon. If you want to hit him, do it because you want to and not because you think you’re being a good big brother.”
“Aren’t I good big brother?” It was also hard to frown, he discovered as he tried. Pain ripped through his face so that he decided his emotion would have to come through in his words.
“The best. And because you’re the best,” she dropped a kiss on the side of his face that wasn’t rapidly swelling, “I’m going to leave you here with Kaylee to offer her help. Because you’re the best, you won’t mind in the least that I’m going to offer to sew up Jayne’s split ear. That was a good blow, by the way.”
He attempted to scowl. “The best,” he repeated.
7. prompt = Finale
When all was said and done, Zoe loved a good fist fight. She had watched hundreds and been part of half as many. There had been a time when she thought she’d never feel that sort of exhileration ever again. Her heart had stopped, literally and figuratively. She had watched the life drain from her only love and known that her life was over.
But then her heart had started again. It was the strangest thing, to be brought back to life by the smallest heart beat in the world, nestled in a safe fold under her ribs. Her previous baby, a part of her and a part of Wash, had brought her back from what she had assumed would be the end.
Now she found herself laughing. She’d never thought she’d find something so entertaining but it really was a lark to watch Simon and Jayne try to beat the stuffing out of each other, both trying to prove they loved the same woman the most.
One day she might find another man who would throw a punch for her. For now, she had that comforting heartbeat to hold onto for comfort when the nights were longer than her dreams. It was enough.
8. prompt = Temptation
“I don’t need your help.”
River rolled her eyes as Jayne closed the door to his bunk. Her small fists pounded on the steel door. “Yes, you do. That cut on your forehead could get infected and go septic. It would be a pity for you to die because you let Simon get in a few good punches.”
As she knew it would, the door swung open and his wide eyes gazed out at her. “Septic?”
She pushed him back into the room, trying not to give in to the temptation to push him down on the bed and have her way with him. Better for the idea to be his or he’d only push her away. If she wanted to end up in his bed, she’d need to play this game by his rules.
“Sit down and let me help you.” Still he stood in the middle of the room, watching her closely. “What a pity. I’ve gotten you right where I want you and you just stand there, looking at me like I’m daft.”
“Aren’t you?”
“For thinking you’re smart enough to see an invitation when one is given? I guess I am.”
Try as she might, she couldn’t get to the door. His arms around her waist kept her from getting far enough across the room but that wasn’t where she wanted to go. Staying here was just fine with her.
9. prompt = Ship
Kaylee couldn’t believe her luck as she settled into the co-pilot chair of the shuttle. When she’d brought it up again, Simon had been much more agreeable. The fight with Jayne seemed to depleted some of the anger he’d been holding onto lately. She wondered if that was a good thing, considering nothing had taken the anger’s place. There was a void in his eyes that concerned her.
“Simon?” He grunted from where he was stowing one of his medical bags even though she’d questioned him for bringing it. “Have you decided where we’re going?”
“Yes.”
“Is that all I’m getting?” He kissed her instead of answering this time. “Okay, I’ll let you kiss me into silence. It’s enough that we’re going somewhere that isn’t here.”
He smiled at her as he settled into the pilot’s chair. It was enough to send her stomach flipping over with delight. “Do you have any idea how to fly this thing?”
“I thought you knew? Does this mean we’re not going on an adventure?”
She took the hand he offered her, letting him pull her out the cushioned seat. “No, it just means we aren’t leaving the docking bay. There’s a bed back there that looks pretty comfortable. Do you want to help me find out if it really is?”
10. prompt = Crossover
The light show out the aft windows was beautiful. Mal hadn’t heard there would be any disturbances in this area and this was definitely a disturbance. As he watched the flickering lights, trying to decide if he should take a closer look, a ship flew out of that exact area of space. Not through it. Out of it.
Mal blinked, just to be sure he’d seen what he thought he’d seen. Yep, it was still there. “River? You see that?” She squeaked a reply so she must have seen the same thing. “What kind of ship is that?”
Just then, the radio crackled. “Captain Reynolds? This is Colonel Steven Caldwell of the Daedalus. We need to talk.”
Mal stuttered a few times as he tried to figure out why this ship was radioing him personally. “Are you with the government?” he finally asked because he was going to know who he was working with this time.
“Not the one you’re thinking of but don’t worry. We’re on the same side as you.”
Worry was what he did best. It had kept him alive for more years than he’d assumed it would. He’d like some answers but what he really wanted to know was how they did that thing with the lights.
11. prompt = Lorne 1
The playlist was starting to get dated but Lorne wasn’t really liking any of the new songs he was hearing on the radio. None of them inspiried him the way that Aretha or Barbara still could.
A demon had com in last night, sweet little thing with three eyes and a multitude of curly ears sprouting from the top of his head, and demanded to know why there wasn’t any rap songs on the list. The very question had offended his musical sensibilities but he’d tried to word his response in the same gracious manner he ran the rest of the club. Apparently hearing Oh, god, none of that complete crap here hadn’t been what the demon had wanted to hear.
12. prompt = Lorne 2
“What do you mean they can’t deliver those orchids until Thursday? When I talked to you yesterday, you told me a Tuesday shipment was no problem.” Lorne tried not to give in to the urge to pound his head against the wall in frustration.
“There was a mix up, sir.”
He waited for further explanation but there was only silence on the other end of the line. Lorne took a deep breath. “I called you a week ago. You said it was no problem. I called you five days ago. You said it was no problem I called and left a message for you on Saturday. When I talked to yesterday, you said it was no problem.”
“Well, now there’s a problem.”
It was enough to make him howl in frustration. If these weren’t the most gorgeous orchids in all of southern California, he’d have hung up long ago. “So you can deliver them on Thursday?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“And there won’t be a problem this time?”
“It doesn’t appear that there will be, sir.”
He wasn’t going to hold his breath.
13. prompt = Lorne 3
The joint was jumping but still Lorne wasn’t happy. It was always the same songs sung by the same demons in the same horrible key. Nothing different every happened. No one different ever showed up.
Just then, the door opened. When he finally stepped into the light, Lorne couldn’t help but fight back a grin that nearly split his face into two. This was most definitely someone different.
He gave the man time to get settled into a chair before he walked over, a sweating drink in his hand. “What’s a rogue demon hunter like you doing in a place like this?”
14. prompt = Lorne 4
There was times when he missed the club. Having a office and a bevy of gorgeous assistants at his beck and call had definite perks but he missed the constant conversations flowing him around him. Most of the time, when he walked in a room, everyone stopped talking. It was his nature to crack a joke or offer up a complement, restarting the conversation again. At the club, there was never any need to restart anything. It had been his element. His life.
“Is this really your life?” he asked the man in the mirror. “Are you suddenly one of Angel’s gang of thugs? Is this what you’ve become? Can you handle the consequences?”
His heart twinged. Not because he was melancholy. No, this had been purely physical. It was impossible for him to tell where the pain had originated.
“Time to pack it in. Angel doesn’t need this broken-down songbird who can’t sing any longer. Time to pack it in.
15. prompt = Lorne 5
He walked away, a broken man. There was no longer a song in his broken and beaten soul. The things he’d seen and done had been enough to pollute his aura, driving away any hope of a happy ending.
“Damn,” he said, frightening himself and the man walking toward him as he said the word out loud. He muttered his apology, being sure to keep his head down.
Wouldn’t matter if people thought he was insane for talking to himself. The apocalypse was here. This minute, as a matter of fact. When he’d thought about the end of days, he never considered he’d be around for it.
What the world needs now is love, sweet love.
The world needed more than love, he decided. Some songs didn’t know what they were talking about.
16. prompt = WC 1 - Lips like morphine at
5_promptsOz loved his van. It held equipment when he was in a band, large groups of people when he had friends and containers of flowers when he had a job. This was a pretty sweet gig, too. There was a back room that had a little fridge, a hot plate and a wobbly latch. He could park the van in the lot across the street but pop over after the shop had closed to make some dinner. There was a gym just around the corner with pretty decent showers. It was a good life.
Well, not good. Decent. It was better than nothing. It was better than watching the girl he thought he loved with all his heart loving someone else. He’d kissed her, hoping his lips were like morphine and she’d fall back into his arms. Not his Willow. She was too smart to fall for that old trick.
She’d always seen through him. Seen his tricks for what they really were. God, he missed her. Sometimes it was an actual ache in his gut but usually it was just the absence of what he’d had, glaringly obvious in these dark nights when he was alone. Alone in his van. He loved his van. But he loved Willow more.
17. prompt = WC 2 - Seems I’m losing my voice at
5_prompts“Sing us a song.”
Oz looked up, surprised that anyone had bothered to stop. There were plenty of other musicians out tonight, roaming the farmer’s market or sitting with their cases wide open on the off chance that someone had some spare change.
He shook his head, squinting at the glare of the lights behind the group. “Seems I’m losing my voice. It wouldn’t be worth your time to hear me sing.”
A girl stepped forward. His heart stuttered for a moment as he saw the red hair highlighted in the lamp’s glow. It wasn’t her, though. It was never her. “What’s that song you’re playing?”
“Something I wrote. You’ve never heard of it.”
“Haven’t I?” She smiled and, even though he couldn’t see her eyes, he could see her lips. Such a pretty smile.
He shrugged. Better to play along with them so they’d walk away from him. He turned up the amp so that others could hear his chords and began to play Willow’s Song.
18. prompt = WC 3 - Remembering the one I left at home at
5_promptsAt every stop Oz made, he found the local library. For a small fee, and sometimes for free, he’d get on one of their computers and look up the goings on in Sunnydale. It constantly amazed him what the newspapers wrote up as news. He’d run with the Scoobies long enough to know how to read between the lines.
Sometimes he would print out the stories to enjoy later. In his van, he’d stretch out on the cot in the back and read the articles out loud. Sometimes he would pretend that Willow was there with him and they were laughing over how absolutely wrong the reporter got it.
But most of all he read the stories to remember the one he’d left behind. She was still plugging away at the constant threat of the ever-growing demon hoarde. “Take care of her, Buffy,” he whispered to the north star, hoping the Slayer got the message.
One day he was going to go back. Not today but someday.
19. prompt = WC 4 - These bright lights have always blinded me at
5_promptsThe club owner was enthusiastic to have someone to fill in the empty slot in the evening’s rotation. As much as Oz wasn’t looking forward to being up on the tiny stage with all the bright lights blinding him as he tried to remember the words to at least three songs. It was fifteen dollars if the audience liked him. Not just today. If he was a hit, he could have fifteen dollars for the next five nights. That was gas for the van that he sorely needed.
“Ready to go on?” the stage manager/hostess asked him. “They’re going to introduce you any moment.”
He nodded, wishing there was someone in the audience who knew him and the songs he was going to sing. Being the new guy wasn’t his forte. It always helped knowing there was someone in the audience who was mouthing the words along with him. What he really wanted was a friend, he realized suddenly. He missed having a friend but, more importantly, he missed being a friend.
20. prompt = WC 5 - I want to feel the lightning strike me at
5_promptsHe’d killed a vampire just as the midnight chimes started ringing. The pile of dust betraying his activity but there wasn’t anyone around to care. Oz threw the spike, really a bit of a broken chair he’d found in the alley, into the nearest trash can. Now he was clean of the evidence.
It stayed with him as he got into the van and made for the city limits. He’d taken a life. Even if it was a vampire who would have probably killed and drained anyone else that had tried what he’d just done, it still felt wrong. When he looked out the side mirrors, it wasn’t to see the city growing small in the distance but to see any sign of a dark cloud. He was waiting for the lightning to strike him down for his doings.
Where there was one hungry vamp, there was probably more. Who did he think he was, running away from a town that could use him? He was signing death warrants by leaving so quickly. The least he could do... and with that thought, he pulled to the side of the road and turned around.
