InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "There is no mercy."

Jeannie (i_blink) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2008-04-04 22:42:00

Entry tags:

jeannie, melaka fray, spike, zz:status complete

Illumination (tag: Spike, Fray)
Jeannie was still not all that certain that this was the best course of action. No matter what Spike had said, she could not shake her apprehensions about taking him to see someone who liked to call themselves a “slayer.” In her experience, those sorts of people were never to be trusted. Which was why instead of blinking Spike to this person by himself, she had chosen to join him. So that she could keep him safe. She refused to believe that her new master would tell her to help him only to see him harmed. That made no sense. No, this was the best way. Definitely.

From the well-lit street corner where she had met him… or was that re-met him? He did seem to think they had met before. Or at least he had met her twin sister. So that meant that they had some further connection perhaps. Which made it doubly important for her to keep him out of trouble.

From the well-lit street corner where she and Spike had been recently standing, they blinked into existence in a very dark place. It took Jeannie a moment to recognize it as an alleyway. A very dim and dirty alleyway. It smelled. Was this the sort of place that a slayer person was to be found? It was most unpleasant. A half second later, she squeaked and jumped closer to Spike, grabbing on to his arm as something greasy and furry scrabbled across her pink slipper.

“Oh!” she fumed, stamping her foot to make sure it was clear of the rat. “That is… this is… oh!”

Stepping slightly away from Spike, without releasing his arm, she commented, “I cannot see a thing, can you? This is not at all acceptable.”

With a quick nod and blink, a set of streetlights appeared, three on either side of the alleyway, completely filling the formerly darkened space with bright, warm light. Pleased with her accomplishment, she beamed at Spike, looking for his approval. “That is much better, is it not?”

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i_wannadance
2008-04-07 01:16 am UTC (link)

"You did... just..."

Spike sighed, and, not for the first time, looked up at the sky for help that was not coming. Then he looked at Jeannie, one hand out to Fray in the manner of 'hold off with the stabbing and the swinging, would you, love?'

"There's more than one Slayer," Spike said.

Fray nodded. "Here, at least. Aren't we just supposed to happen one at a time?"

Do not worry about that one. I will find your Fluffy.

"Buffy." They both said it at the same time, and then turned and looked at each other, bewildered.

"What do you want with Buffy?"
Spike considered. "She's a friend. Okay? Friend."
Fray blinked. "Are you Angel?"
"For the bloody love of all... no. No I am not Angel! Angel and I have completely different coloring, and he's dull as a table lamp!"

Fray smiled, slowly. "Ohhh. I see," she said. "You're Spike."

She did not lower the weapon, and Spike wondered why. "Which version are you, huh? There's a lot of stuff on you in the Watcher's Diaries, y'know. With the torturing. And the crazy sidekick. And the torturing. And the killing two slayers..." She took two steps closer and peered up into his face, way too close for comfort. Spike snorted. "Is there a chip in your head? Or, hey, is it my lucky day, and you got a freakin' soul?"

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i_blink
2008-04-07 07:15 pm UTC (link)

“He has already told you that he has!” Jeannie exclaimed in defense of her friend. “He said he had a sodding soul, though I am uncertain what turf has to do with his spirit. Then you said that had nothing that a person has. Which is obviously incorrect, since he is a person and a silly thing to say besides. And I have been calling him Spike!”

Her final sentence was spoken with obvious exasperation as she threw her hands in the air. Shaking her head, she muttered, “You do not listen very well.”

Which said quite a lot about a person in Jeannie’s opinion. Those that did not listen were the sort that thought more of themselves than those around them. It was more than rude. It was a sign of a selfish person, and Jeannie did not care for that sort. She much preferred the nice type. Like Spike.

Except…

Except the little woman had said things that were unpleasant to think about. Unkind things. Things about killing. Things about torturing. Things that could not be true. Could they?

But… she liked Spike. He called her pet, and love, and told her to cover her eyes when he thought that she would see something upsetting. He would not do such things. Would he?

Her confusion and worry plainly written on her face, she simply spoke his name. “Spike?”

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i_grab
2008-04-08 06:59 pm UTC (link)

You do not listen very well.

Fray smirked. "Been told that."

Spike?

The vampire turned to Jeannie, and her face was a roadmap of confusion. He couldn't blame her. Biting at his lower lip, he thought about the best way to even START having this discussion. How about just not doing it? Fray sighed, stance moving into a more at-ease pose. She knew killing him, if Buffy was really in this place, was a huge no-no.

"Yes, love?" Spike said to Jeannie. He blinked amiable blue eyes, and the slayer behind him chuckled.

"What're you laughin' at, then?"

"This. You." Fray slid the scythe into a strap on her back and crossed her arms.

"You are one step away, missy!" he said, pointing a finger at her.

"From what?"

"From... sod it." He sighed. "I don't want to hurt you, and you know it. I don't want to hurt anyone, much, come to that. How about backing off and leavin' a guy to the bits where the soul a witch shoved down his throat slowly drives him out the belfry?"

The more words he said, the more his voice rose.

"Uh. You don't gotta yell," Fray said.

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i_blink
2008-04-08 07:59 pm UTC (link)

“People often yell when they are upset,” Jeannie said pragmatically in a very prim tone. “You should try to upset him less and then he will not yell.”

Though now, she was even more confused than she had been before. Spike had not explained what the little woman had meant when she spoke of torture. Instead, he had said something about a witch. Which was never a good sign.

Jeannie did not like witches. Truthfully, she had very little nice to say about most other magical creatures as a whole. There were specific individuals that had earned her respect, but in general she viewed them all with the highest of suspicion. That Spike had any dealings at all with a witch was upsetting. And perhaps explained some of the accusations that the little woman had made. That eased some of her previous discomfort.

“You cannot trust a witch, Spike. You should not go near them at all,” she cautioned. “They are wicked and sneaky and twisted. They are simply the worst sort of people.

“Except,” the genie added, “for the Green Witch of Timbuktu, who was really quite sweet unless she saw something orange. Then she became quite cranky and started turning people into newts for no reason other than they had said good morning. I tried to tell my previous master that it was not wise to speak to her when she was in such a mood, but he did not listen to me, and then he was a salamander. Oh, she felt very bad about it afterwards, of course, and turned him back, but most witches are not that nice. You should stay away from them, Spike.”

A look of fierce determination was coupled with a slightly malicious glint in her eye. “Would you like me to make this witch remove the spell? I am sure I could do things that would convince her to do that.”

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i_wannadance
2008-04-09 01:43 am UTC (link)

Fray glared. Wow, could she do without the running commentary from the blonde. This woman was totally starting to remind her of Erin. Her sister was big with the cause and effect. If you don't upset him, Mel, he won't yell. If you don't grab, Mel, I won't have to arrest you....

Spike shook his head, almost fiercely. "No. No. Jeannie... no one can hurt the witch, get it?" His eyebrow rose. "Red meant well. And I don't... I don't think she's wrong, in what she did."

Fray's eyes widened. "Wait. Uh. So. The witch... put your soul back? Like... recently? And now you're all friends with Buffy and stuff? And the witch had... Red... WILLOW?!"

Spike mock applauded. "S'like charades, without the stupid. Yes! And what do we have for the young lady, in the way of prizes?" The sarcasm was evident now not only in his voice, but in his eyes. Oooh. The look he was giving Fray.

"Why do you know all of this?" he asked, jaw almost locked on the end of each word.

"Watcher's. Diaries." Fray said, mimicking him. "Willow Rosenberg's..." She whistled. "And Buffy? This is... I mean it's totally toy that we're all stuck in this place, but... this is like... it's like..."

"... finding out all Batman's real," Spike finished.

"Who?"

"Nevermind." He sighed. "D'you have a Watcher?"

Fray nodded. "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce."

"WES?! WES IS YOUR WATCHER?" Spike had a laughing fit. "Does this mean you're going to go all rogue, then, and tie him to a chair and light him on fire and poke him with sharp bits of glass?"

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i_blink
2008-04-09 02:40 am UTC (link)

Oh, he had found a Red Witch! Those were dangerous. Which was why they were, well, red. It was a warning color. But if Spike wanted the Red Witch of… wherever they were… to be left alone, then she would do that. For now. But if she did something else to Spike, Jeannie would have a difficult time remembering that she was not touch the witch.

“And what do we have for the young lady, in the way of prizes?”

Oh! Spike wanted to reward the little woman!

Jeannie frowned in confusion. Why would he do that? No matter. If that was what he thought best, then that was what she would make happen. Prizes, she mused silently. What sort of prize could he mean? Her eyes traveled over the little woman, taking in her hair and her clothing. Then inspiration struck.

Crossing one arm over the other, she gave a nod so emphatic that her ponytail flipped forward, simultaneously blinking. In the dingy alleyway, under the cold light of the streetlamps, two very large appliances appeared. Complete with giant red bows. Waving her arms gracefully in the usual manner of the assistants she had seen on game shows, she indicated the brand new washer and dryer she had created. Top of the line. For 1966.

With a bright smile, she waited for the little woman to squeal happily, as the women always did on those shows. Perhaps the appliances would make her far less cranky. That was a very clever suggestion from Spike. She looked at him expectantly, hoping that she had correctly guessed the sort of prize he had been thinking of. Oh, she hoped that he had not wanted a new living room set!

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i_wannadance
2008-04-09 03:17 am UTC (link)

In a way, Jeannie summoning appliances was a good thing. Because, had it not happened, Fray was likely about to just pop Spike one on princpal. And it was all going to be downhill from there.

When the large, boxy, bulky...things... appeared next to her, Fray did not squeal. Instead, having not the first clue what in the rutting hell these things were, eyeing the bows on 'em, Fray drew the scythe again.

And poked at them, with the pointy end of it.

They didn't explode. So that was good...

And when the washer and dryer appeared, Spike almost cackled with the absurdity of it. His mouth dropped open, and a very hearty, "YOU MADE A WASHER AND DRYER!" shot out of it.

Startled, amused and shocked blue eyes fixed on Jeannie's. "Pet," he said, carefully, "that was sarcasm."

He sighed, and then remembered, from tv, that a hurt Jeannie sometimes meant bad, bad bad bad things. "They're lovely. Where'd you get 'em?"

"Uh." Fray blinked, looking at both of them. "What... what are they?"

Ohhhh. The fun Spike could have with this. He decided to behave. This was getting tiring. "For laundry," he said. "Cheers."

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i_blink
2008-04-09 09:01 pm UTC (link)

Jeannie tilted her head to the side in confusion as the little woman tried to stab the washer and dryer. That had never happened on The Newlywed Game. Never had the bride rushed up to her prize and poked it with a sword. This was very bizarre.

She looked at Spike and explained, “I am a genie. I made them. Are they not what you wished? Oh, I shall get rid of them right away!”

Without waiting for confirmation, she crossed her arms and blinked. And the washer and dryer… did not disappear. Instead, it turned into a large green armchair. Still wrapped with a red bow.

Jeannie frowned at the piece of furniture. That was not what was supposed to have happened. The appliances should have gone back to the nothingness that she had created them from. But they had not left at all, only changed form. Perhaps she had not been concentrating hard enough.

Again, she blinked. And this time, the chair turned into a carrot. With a little bitty red bow. Jeannie did a quick check of her body, making certain that none of her limbs had disappeared. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, but no fever. She was not ill, so why was she having such difficulty? This was frustrating and confusing!

She blinked, and the carrot became a sewing machine.

Blink. And there was a goat, trying to eat the bow around his neck.

Blink. A pair of roller skates.

Blink. A ficus tree.

Blink. Attila the Hun, who was far less pleased with the red bow than the goat had been.

Blink. A toaster.

There was an odd sort of pressure at the base of her skull, just above the nape of her neck, and Jeannie had the unsettling feeling that something was preventing her from getting rid of what she had created. With a little frown, she stepped forward and grabbed the toaster from the pavement. After a short pause, she offered the bow-wrapped small appliance to the little woman. It had been created for her, sarcasm or not. “I think… this is to be yours. Please do not stab it. It is just a toaster.”

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i_wannadance
2008-04-12 12:18 am UTC (link)

Before Spike could tell her not to bother--it was not Jeannie's fault Fray was not up on her domestic appliances-- the genie had started blinking and bobbing her head.

Fray watched, wide-eyed, and in total shock.

A chair. A tree. A goat... some guy who looked like he wanted a fight, and growled like he was a lurk, but had some whacky headgear...

And then a tiny silver box. Comparatively tiny, anyway. The genie handed it to her, and Fray looked at it.

"I'm not gonna stab it," she said defensively. Her eyes went to Spike, for help.

The vampire was grinning like an idiot. He could not help it. "Was that Attila the Hun? Sod it." He sighed. "That, love, is a toaster. For slices of bread."

"I KNOW WHAT A TOASTER IS," Fray snapped. "The look was for the..." she looked at the toaster in her hands, then at Jeannie. "This whole thing is a bit much. First you. With a soul. Then you tell me Buffy's really here... and you're not the first one to tell me that. And Willow. And it's like... like reading a history book, y'know, and then watching it all jump off the page. And... okay. Where did you get a genie? That's. Wow. I'm going crazy."

Spike sighed. "You and me both, love. You and me both."

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