Need A Hero
Aug. 9th, 2016 03:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katleeptTitle: Need A Hero
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Clem, Spike
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
nekid_spike Mini Nekid Guest: Clem
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 1,010
Date Written: 7 August 2016
Summary:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
He's always been a fan of stories where the hero arrives at the last minute and saves the day, but he's never been such a hero himself. Every opportunity he's ever used to try to be heroic has always led to disaster, and today is no different. Sweat beads across the Demon's face as he looks at the Vampires glowering at him and gathers the basket of mewing kittens closer to his chest. Slowly and with shaking hands, he lays down his cards.
The one with the full house is the first to jump to his feet. "Give us the kittens, Demon," he snarls. "We won 'em fair and square!"
Clem's shaking spreads from his hands throughout the rest of his body. There's nothing fair about giving such innocent, precious animals over to creatures who are going to eat them! His ears wriggle with fright, then flatten against his head. "I -- I can't."
"Sure you can, Clem," the one to his right says and grabs the basket before Clem can risk it away. The tiny, black kitten, the runt of the litter, lays his furry ears against his head and spits, backing all the way up against the far edge of the basket. Maybe, Clem wonders, he can grab the kittens, leave the basket with the Vamps, and run? But he'll never make it to safety. He won't even make it out the door, and then they might eat him as well as the poor, little kittens.
He looks to his cell phone, the one the Slayer's little sister gave him -- he hadn't where or how she'd gotten it, only thanked her for the gift and gotten her to show him how to use it -- , but nobody's returned his calls. "Come on, Clem." He bolts upright as a pair of cold hands, curling with the cruelty of their owner, touch his shoulders. "No one's got to get hurt."
"But . . . But you'll eat them!"
The kittens' plaintive mews seem to grow louder in agreement.
The comedian at the far end of the table grins wide, showing off his sharp and deadly fangs. "We're Vampires," he says, putting his own twist on an ad that's been playing all night on the bar's only television set. "It's what we do."
Why, oh why, Clem questions not for the first time, did he have to come out by himself tonight?! Nothing good ever comes of being by himself! And why did he have to try to play the hero to save the kittens? He should've known he couldn't do this! Tears well in the Demon's eyes. He can't do anything --
Just then, the door to the bar is kicked open. Every Vampire in the place turns to see one of their own stride boldly into the establishment. Clem's heart leaps with hope. He doesn't dare try to turn to face him, but he can smell the identity of the new arrival. He can also tell who he is from the way the other Vamps are reacting. Several bare their teeth. One tries to squirrel away into the furthest shadows. A few make noises of disapproval in the backs of their pale throats. Clem shakes off the hands on his shoulders and pulls the basket of kittens all the way up against his chest. He's ready to run now; he just has to wait for the signal.
"Look who it is, boys!" calls out one of the more confident Vampires in the group surrounding Clem. "The Slayer's little pet!"
Clem can easily picture the responding look on the Vampire who's just entered the bar. Spike's always calm and cool. He knows he's probably facing this whole crowd with a confident smirk of his own. "Heard you saw her the other night," Tall, Cool, and British responds, smirking wide around the cigarette in his mouth, "and you squealed and ran like a girl while she staked your mates."
"Better than fucking her!"
"Is it? I'm the only bloke in here who ain't afraid of her."
"At least I'm not a traitor to my own kind!"
"What?" The upward curl of Spike's black lips sends shivers down several of their spines. Clem stands, the basket of kittens secured safely in his arms, and starts to back toward him as Spike demands of the other Vampires in the crowd, "You think you're my kind? You'll never have the stones to be my kind, Nancy. You're all too busy flocking together like a bunch o' sheep, wanting to make a name for yourselves but at the same time hoping no one picks you out of the group. But every damn one of you made a mistake tonight."
He strides forward and stops just as Clem's elbow. "I warned you," he continues, "the Slayer don't like playing for kittens, and neither do I. Worse yet, you bothered my friend, Clem, here." He jerks his blonde head at the hulking but gentle Demon who's not trembling quite so badly now. He smirks, danger dancing in his dark eyes. "Made his kittens mrowl."
"What's it to you?" one of the Vamps in the back calls.
"Simple." Spike's smirk grows. "I was looking for a fight." He takes the tiny piece that's left of his cigarette and thumps it to the side. "Looks like I found one."
Clem doesn't have to be told to run. As Spike continues courageously forward, he darts for the door. Not one of the other Vampires dares to follow him, but as he reaches the door, Spike calls to him, "Clem, don't forget this!" Clem raises his head and lifts his hand just in time to catch the cell phone that's sailing through the air. He grabs it, holds the basket firmly to his chest, and dives out into the night just as Spike dives forward into the fight. He grins as he runs toward the safety of his friend's lair, the sounds of battle following him on the night air. He does so love it when a hero comes through just in time!
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Clem, Spike
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt:
nekid_spike Mini Nekid Guest: ClemWarning(s): None
Word Count: 1,010
Date Written: 7 August 2016
Summary:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
He's always been a fan of stories where the hero arrives at the last minute and saves the day, but he's never been such a hero himself. Every opportunity he's ever used to try to be heroic has always led to disaster, and today is no different. Sweat beads across the Demon's face as he looks at the Vampires glowering at him and gathers the basket of mewing kittens closer to his chest. Slowly and with shaking hands, he lays down his cards.
The one with the full house is the first to jump to his feet. "Give us the kittens, Demon," he snarls. "We won 'em fair and square!"
Clem's shaking spreads from his hands throughout the rest of his body. There's nothing fair about giving such innocent, precious animals over to creatures who are going to eat them! His ears wriggle with fright, then flatten against his head. "I -- I can't."
"Sure you can, Clem," the one to his right says and grabs the basket before Clem can risk it away. The tiny, black kitten, the runt of the litter, lays his furry ears against his head and spits, backing all the way up against the far edge of the basket. Maybe, Clem wonders, he can grab the kittens, leave the basket with the Vamps, and run? But he'll never make it to safety. He won't even make it out the door, and then they might eat him as well as the poor, little kittens.
He looks to his cell phone, the one the Slayer's little sister gave him -- he hadn't where or how she'd gotten it, only thanked her for the gift and gotten her to show him how to use it -- , but nobody's returned his calls. "Come on, Clem." He bolts upright as a pair of cold hands, curling with the cruelty of their owner, touch his shoulders. "No one's got to get hurt."
"But . . . But you'll eat them!"
The kittens' plaintive mews seem to grow louder in agreement.
The comedian at the far end of the table grins wide, showing off his sharp and deadly fangs. "We're Vampires," he says, putting his own twist on an ad that's been playing all night on the bar's only television set. "It's what we do."
Why, oh why, Clem questions not for the first time, did he have to come out by himself tonight?! Nothing good ever comes of being by himself! And why did he have to try to play the hero to save the kittens? He should've known he couldn't do this! Tears well in the Demon's eyes. He can't do anything --
Just then, the door to the bar is kicked open. Every Vampire in the place turns to see one of their own stride boldly into the establishment. Clem's heart leaps with hope. He doesn't dare try to turn to face him, but he can smell the identity of the new arrival. He can also tell who he is from the way the other Vamps are reacting. Several bare their teeth. One tries to squirrel away into the furthest shadows. A few make noises of disapproval in the backs of their pale throats. Clem shakes off the hands on his shoulders and pulls the basket of kittens all the way up against his chest. He's ready to run now; he just has to wait for the signal.
"Look who it is, boys!" calls out one of the more confident Vampires in the group surrounding Clem. "The Slayer's little pet!"
Clem can easily picture the responding look on the Vampire who's just entered the bar. Spike's always calm and cool. He knows he's probably facing this whole crowd with a confident smirk of his own. "Heard you saw her the other night," Tall, Cool, and British responds, smirking wide around the cigarette in his mouth, "and you squealed and ran like a girl while she staked your mates."
"Better than fucking her!"
"Is it? I'm the only bloke in here who ain't afraid of her."
"At least I'm not a traitor to my own kind!"
"What?" The upward curl of Spike's black lips sends shivers down several of their spines. Clem stands, the basket of kittens secured safely in his arms, and starts to back toward him as Spike demands of the other Vampires in the crowd, "You think you're my kind? You'll never have the stones to be my kind, Nancy. You're all too busy flocking together like a bunch o' sheep, wanting to make a name for yourselves but at the same time hoping no one picks you out of the group. But every damn one of you made a mistake tonight."
He strides forward and stops just as Clem's elbow. "I warned you," he continues, "the Slayer don't like playing for kittens, and neither do I. Worse yet, you bothered my friend, Clem, here." He jerks his blonde head at the hulking but gentle Demon who's not trembling quite so badly now. He smirks, danger dancing in his dark eyes. "Made his kittens mrowl."
"What's it to you?" one of the Vamps in the back calls.
"Simple." Spike's smirk grows. "I was looking for a fight." He takes the tiny piece that's left of his cigarette and thumps it to the side. "Looks like I found one."
Clem doesn't have to be told to run. As Spike continues courageously forward, he darts for the door. Not one of the other Vampires dares to follow him, but as he reaches the door, Spike calls to him, "Clem, don't forget this!" Clem raises his head and lifts his hand just in time to catch the cell phone that's sailing through the air. He grabs it, holds the basket firmly to his chest, and dives out into the night just as Spike dives forward into the fight. He grins as he runs toward the safety of his friend's lair, the sounds of battle following him on the night air. He does so love it when a hero comes through just in time!
The End
