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Come To Tea
Disclaimer: Do not own or claim rights to Buffy or Firefly
Notes: Written for 365 Drabbles, Prompt - Shock
It was certainly a surprise. Waking up in a strange bed, which turned out to be on a strange planet in the freaking future would surely be shock enough for any man or woman, alive or otherwise life-compromised. At least he had company (insert sarcastic tone here.)
Oh, Angel was loving this (again with the sarcastic tone.) Here he was, stuck in the future with his number one, favourite human (apart from some guy named Holtz, which Deadboy refused to talk about) and there was nothing he could do about it. They had been tossed here by a sorceress – not a witch, because witches are nice, but sorceresses are evil, and neither of them were debating the morals of the woman who’d sent them here.
Apparently (and he knew he was overdoing the sarcastic tone here, but who the hell cared) one of them had upset the sorceress, but she was short-sighted, and they had been standing together, and birds of a feather and all that sucked big time. Since neither of them had gotten a glimpse of the woman before she’d cursed them, and neither of them would admit to pissing anyone off lately (though it wasn’t him, he swore) neither could say which was to blame.
So here they were. In the future, and Earth was long gone, apparently, to some apocalypse of supposedly mundane origin. And now there was a girl of maybe Dawn’s age, dancing around them like Drusilla (which seriously freaked both of them out) telling them that Miss Edith would have invited them to tea, but she’d been left at home, and there was only green tea left, but would they come?
Xander turned to glare at Angel. “So very your fault,” he decided.
Notes: Written for 365 Drabbles, Prompt - Shock
It was certainly a surprise. Waking up in a strange bed, which turned out to be on a strange planet in the freaking future would surely be shock enough for any man or woman, alive or otherwise life-compromised. At least he had company (insert sarcastic tone here.)
Oh, Angel was loving this (again with the sarcastic tone.) Here he was, stuck in the future with his number one, favourite human (apart from some guy named Holtz, which Deadboy refused to talk about) and there was nothing he could do about it. They had been tossed here by a sorceress – not a witch, because witches are nice, but sorceresses are evil, and neither of them were debating the morals of the woman who’d sent them here.
Apparently (and he knew he was overdoing the sarcastic tone here, but who the hell cared) one of them had upset the sorceress, but she was short-sighted, and they had been standing together, and birds of a feather and all that sucked big time. Since neither of them had gotten a glimpse of the woman before she’d cursed them, and neither of them would admit to pissing anyone off lately (though it wasn’t him, he swore) neither could say which was to blame.
So here they were. In the future, and Earth was long gone, apparently, to some apocalypse of supposedly mundane origin. And now there was a girl of maybe Dawn’s age, dancing around them like Drusilla (which seriously freaked both of them out) telling them that Miss Edith would have invited them to tea, but she’d been left at home, and there was only green tea left, but would they come?
Xander turned to glare at Angel. “So very your fault,” he decided.