Drabble delivery!
Jun. 28th, 2006 12:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
electricalgwenThanks for the prompts, you guys! :)
Here we have, for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cordelianne:
Coffee, muffins, and wobbly mountains of books. Fred would have been in research heaven, if Cordy hadn’t been so downcast.
“Y’know,” she ventured finally, “he worries about you lots.”
Cordy laughed bitterly. “I’m part of his team. I’m the conduit to the PTB. Of course he worries about me.”
“It’s more than that.”
“Right, and you’re the emotionally intelligent one around here.”
Fred flinched but Cordelia was already sighing in apology. “Read the signs. You don’t have to be visionary. Angel’s not into me.” She stared at the table. “Angel’s into – blonde.”
Fred’s hand covered Cordy’s. “Angel’s into brave.”
And forkaygrr:
Wesley retrieved his knife, wiped it on the demon’s shirt, and turned to rejoin the others.
And ducked barely in time, as the head of Spike’s assailant came flying towards him, striking the skip behind him with a clang. He wiped ichor from his hair as Spike crowed and brandished his axe in triumph.
“Spike, if you must hurl body parts at me, the least you could do is shout ‘Fore!’”
Spike looked incredulous. “This isn’t golf, Wes.”
“No,” Gunn agreed, hitting the brakes so abruptly that Spike toppled off the cab roof into the flatbed. “It’s more like polo.”
Here we have, for
cordelianne:Coffee, muffins, and wobbly mountains of books. Fred would have been in research heaven, if Cordy hadn’t been so downcast.
“Y’know,” she ventured finally, “he worries about you lots.”
Cordy laughed bitterly. “I’m part of his team. I’m the conduit to the PTB. Of course he worries about me.”
“It’s more than that.”
“Right, and you’re the emotionally intelligent one around here.”
Fred flinched but Cordelia was already sighing in apology. “Read the signs. You don’t have to be visionary. Angel’s not into me.” She stared at the table. “Angel’s into – blonde.”
Fred’s hand covered Cordy’s. “Angel’s into brave.”
And for
kaygrr:Wesley retrieved his knife, wiped it on the demon’s shirt, and turned to rejoin the others.
And ducked barely in time, as the head of Spike’s assailant came flying towards him, striking the skip behind him with a clang. He wiped ichor from his hair as Spike crowed and brandished his axe in triumph.
“Spike, if you must hurl body parts at me, the least you could do is shout ‘Fore!’”
Spike looked incredulous. “This isn’t golf, Wes.”
“No,” Gunn agreed, hitting the brakes so abruptly that Spike toppled off the cab roof into the flatbed. “It’s more like polo.”
