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spikeysgrl18) wrote2007-07-03 02:24 pm
Drabbly Goodness
lunarknightz's drabble challenge prompted these. I hope you all like. Feedback is always appreciated :)Willow writes letters everyday.
One to Xander, her best friend and savior. Sometimes she pours her heart out to him. Tells him how sorry she is, bemoans the loneliness she feels, isolated from everything familiar in England.
Another to Buffy, though her phrases become inevitably stilted and awkward. She never knows what to say to Buffy. How many times does someone have to apologize for losing all sense and leaving her friend to die? If she had the rest of her life to apologize sometimes she thinks it still wouldn’t be enough.
It’s not like she could bake them all cookies and wish it all better this time.
Well, she supposed she could but then she would have to have them shipped back to America and they would be crumbly and stale by the time they reached the Summers’ house. And nobody liked a messy, crumbly cookie. Except Xander.
And everyday Willow resolved to gather the courage to actually send them.
Giles said she should. It would help them all to heal. Willow honestly didn’t know if they’d do more harm than good. So for now they sit, piled neatly at the corner of the modest desk in her room. They taunt her, and occasionally her hand reaches out unconsciously, demanding that she take that final step. But every time her senses would return and her hand would fall back to her side.
She’d send them another day.
Title: Can’t Take You Anywhere
Author: Jami
Category: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Characters: Dean, Sam
Summary: It’s not their usual hunt.
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I own nothing, the producers and creators own everything. And they have way more money, so if you’re broke don’t go suing me for cash. I make no profit from this.
“Dude, I’m telling you. This is the life.”
Sliding his best shades on, Dean leaned back in the elevated lifeguard’s chair that gave him the perfect view of the pool just in front of him, and consequently the half dressed women currently sunning themselves on the deck. Sam snorted in derision and Dean just smirked.
The heat of the sun left him with a pleasant feeling of warmth as he stretched lazily, scanning the area perfunctorily. Not even Sam’s bitching could ruin this day for him.
“You do remember we’re here for a reason,” Sam sighed, huffing a bit in resignation.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean mumbled distractedly, “Poltergeist. Terrorizing the poor pool goers and being a general pain in the ass.” Dean sat up a little more when he noticed a hot blond walking past, eyeing him appreciatively. “Did I mention I love this job?”
Sam just rolled his eyes. Only Dean could take a hunt a turn it into an excuse to hit on girls and get a “bitchin’” tan.