“I... I am having trouble imagining the logistics of such a weapon...”
Again, the young woman laughed. “You can stab anything with anything if you use the right force,” she said. “That’s what Buffy told me. And I think it was a pretty big spoon as well.”
Even from the hall, the mood of the couple who were talking in the room was not quite enough to shake Spike out of the daze he found himself in. Wandering into the living room, he had crossed the floor, flopped into a seat and had a staring match with the ceiling before he realised that he had been spoken to.
Blinking, he looked towards the couch. Dawn was sprawled comfortably at one end, her besocked feet resting on Herbert’s lap, while he idly tweaked at her toes. Both of them, however, were notably staring at the new arrival.
“Wha?”
Herbert’s brows arched, his lips twitching. “You’ve been sitting watching that spot on the ceiling for ten minutes, cheri,” he said. “Either you’ve finally found father’s wine cellar or you have been busy.”
To Spike’s mortal embarrassment, he felt colour flaring in his cheeks. “Had a bit of a tiff with your dad,” he mumbled, suddenly very intently interested in his knees.
“You... and my father...?” With a groan, Herbert let his head fall back, covering his face with his hands. “I thought he would be in a good mood since he has some new volumes for the library, but if he has argued...”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Bad?” Herbert tilted his head to look at the girl. “You remember that apocalypse your sister stopped?”
“Which one?”
Herbert rolled his eyes. “Pick one,” he said. “Any one of those has to be better than father when he’s in a foul mood.”
“You might assume to much, Herbert.”
In front of the fireplace, where there had been flickering shadows, there was abruptly a silhouette, sharpening and slowly turning, von Krolock’s dark eyes gazing down at his son.
“That was cool!”
Inclining his head to smile politely at the young woman sitting on the couch close to his son, von Krolock’s gaze lingered on her for a moment. “I trust you slept well, Miss Summers.”
Returning his smile with a broad grin, Dawn nodded. “Yeah, until creepy here,” She poked at Herbert’s shoulder with one foot, receiving a swat for her effort. “Decided to sneak in and try to eat me this morning.”
If the Graf wasn’t in a bad mood, he did a good impression of it as his gaze moved to his son, skewering the younger vampire.
“What is this, Herbert?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.
“She’s joking, father!” Herbert hastily pushed the girl’s foot off his lap, looking from his father to Spike. The younger vampire grimaced and nodded. Wide-eyed, Herbert looked back at his father’s thunderous face. “Testing one another’s defences! That kind of thing.”
Clearly startled, Dawn looked from one face to another. “I... I was just kidding,” she said, starting to rise. “I threatened to shoot him and cut his head off if that makes it any better...”
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Date: 2006-03-17 02:34 pm (UTC)A female voice laughed. “You use what you got.”
“I... I am having trouble imagining the logistics of such a weapon...”
Again, the young woman laughed. “You can stab anything with anything if you use the right force,” she said. “That’s what Buffy told me. And I think it was a pretty big spoon as well.”
Even from the hall, the mood of the couple who were talking in the room was not quite enough to shake Spike out of the daze he found himself in. Wandering into the living room, he had crossed the floor, flopped into a seat and had a staring match with the ceiling before he realised that he had been spoken to.
Blinking, he looked towards the couch. Dawn was sprawled comfortably at one end, her besocked feet resting on Herbert’s lap, while he idly tweaked at her toes. Both of them, however, were notably staring at the new arrival.
“Wha?”
Herbert’s brows arched, his lips twitching. “You’ve been sitting watching that spot on the ceiling for ten minutes, cheri,” he said. “Either you’ve finally found father’s wine cellar or you have been busy.”
To Spike’s mortal embarrassment, he felt colour flaring in his cheeks. “Had a bit of a tiff with your dad,” he mumbled, suddenly very intently interested in his knees.
“You... and my father...?” With a groan, Herbert let his head fall back, covering his face with his hands. “I thought he would be in a good mood since he has some new volumes for the library, but if he has argued...”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Bad?” Herbert tilted his head to look at the girl. “You remember that apocalypse your sister stopped?”
“Which one?”
Herbert rolled his eyes. “Pick one,” he said. “Any one of those has to be better than father when he’s in a foul mood.”
“You might assume to much, Herbert.”
In front of the fireplace, where there had been flickering shadows, there was abruptly a silhouette, sharpening and slowly turning, von Krolock’s dark eyes gazing down at his son.
“That was cool!”
Inclining his head to smile politely at the young woman sitting on the couch close to his son, von Krolock’s gaze lingered on her for a moment. “I trust you slept well, Miss Summers.”
Returning his smile with a broad grin, Dawn nodded. “Yeah, until creepy here,” She poked at Herbert’s shoulder with one foot, receiving a swat for her effort. “Decided to sneak in and try to eat me this morning.”
If the Graf wasn’t in a bad mood, he did a good impression of it as his gaze moved to his son, skewering the younger vampire.
“What is this, Herbert?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.
“She’s joking, father!” Herbert hastily pushed the girl’s foot off his lap, looking from his father to Spike. The younger vampire grimaced and nodded. Wide-eyed, Herbert looked back at his father’s thunderous face. “Testing one another’s defences! That kind of thing.”
Clearly startled, Dawn looked from one face to another. “I... I was just kidding,” she said, starting to rise. “I threatened to shoot him and cut his head off if that makes it any better...”