Shouldn't Be This - fic
May. 26th, 2009 09:55 amThis was written for
good__evil’s month of Faith.
Title: Shouldn’t Be This
Rating: PG
Word Count: 688
Timeline: during Doppelgangland
Summary: Faith doesn’t have anything to feel guilty about.
Shouldn’t Be This
The Playstation is wicked cool. She tries out Tomb Raider and Duke Nukem, spends half an hour on Battleship, sucks at X-Men vs Street Fighter, kicks ass at Actua Soccer and gets so into Theme Hospital that she doesn’t notice the time until she suddenly glances down and realises she can barely see the controls. Almost night-time.
Night. So that means…
Faith shakes her head, irritated. Whatever. It doesn’t mean anything.
But she’s got bored with the Playstation, so she drops it and starts walking round the apartment and stretching a bit. Her neck’s way stiff from sitting so long.
She wanders over to the window, and grins to herself. Sweet view. Her new place is halfway up a hill, and she can see right across town. In the distance, the last bits of orange are just fading out of the sky.
And in town, the vamps are probably going out in the streets. Including a couple of them who…
No.
Faith walks away and switches on the lights, wondering if there’s anything good on tv.
Then she wonders how many vamps it’ll be.
Not too many, probably. A few of them could take her down, no problem. Hell, one’d probably be enough. After all, Willow’s not that good at fighting.
Surprise attack, neck snap, and it’d all be over, no sweat.
Maybe it already is.
“Serves her right.” But she bites her lip – and doesn’t want to look at the view anymore.
She hasn’t tried the stereo yet.
The Mayor’s put a bunch of CDs on the bookcase, ready for her to check out.
He’s got a couple of them right, but the rest – crap beyond belief, it looks like. They’ve got shiny, sunshiney covers, with these twinkie-lite chick bands wearing colourful tops and smiling at the camera.
Does he really think I’m, like, twelve?
She rolls her eyes, and grabs some real music from her bag. Proper, rocking stuff – none of that cheesy pop garbage.
Faith nods. This’ll be much better.
…then she puts it back in her bag, chooses the brightest, shiniest, twinkiest cover she can see, and turns it up full blast.
Yep. Much better.
Faith stands there for a minute, hands on hips, trying not to think about- Trying not to think.
And then she goes over to the punching bag – brand new and in real need of pummelling – and tries a few shots.
On the stereo, happy poppy song number one finishes with a bang, and bright giggly song two starts up.
It’s actually got a pretty good beat to it.
Right hook, left hook, double shot with the right…
It would’ve been quick.
Left hook, right hook…
A redhead running down the street, vamp grabbing her, and snap.
Roundhouse kick, and two from the left…
Or sinking his teeth into her, maybe.
Left hook, right hook, left hook…
Blood running down her neck onto whatever damn fuzzy sweater she’s wearing this time.
Right hook…
While she’s gasping for breath to scream.
Left hook- right hook- left hook- right hook- left hook…
Collapsing in the street for her friends to find too late.
Right-left-right-left-right-left-right-left-right-left-right-left-
“Shit!”
She spins and slams her fist into the wall, showering plaster dust in every direction.
Faith leans forward, hands on the wall, breathing hard.
Behind her, the punching bag is gently swinging, back and forth.
She closes her eyes, and says firmly, “She deserves it.”
And it’s too late now, anyway, even if she didn’t.
Her left hand closes in a fist, and once again: “The bitch deserves it.”
And that pretty much settles it.
She’s gone and got plaster all over the floor.
She’s not sure if there’s a broom or whatever, but it doesn’t matter. She’ll leave it til later.
Right now, she’s going to get a pizza. Big one, plenty of cheese, hold the anchovies.
And all on the city’s dime.
Faith grins, and looks out the window at all the tiny lights picking out a pattern in the darkness. It really is kinda pretty.
On the stereo, someone says “Come on, let’s rock!” and the whole band starts clapping along.
Title: Shouldn’t Be This
Rating: PG
Word Count: 688
Timeline: during Doppelgangland
Summary: Faith doesn’t have anything to feel guilty about.
Shouldn’t Be This
The Playstation is wicked cool. She tries out Tomb Raider and Duke Nukem, spends half an hour on Battleship, sucks at X-Men vs Street Fighter, kicks ass at Actua Soccer and gets so into Theme Hospital that she doesn’t notice the time until she suddenly glances down and realises she can barely see the controls. Almost night-time.
Night. So that means…
Faith shakes her head, irritated. Whatever. It doesn’t mean anything.
But she’s got bored with the Playstation, so she drops it and starts walking round the apartment and stretching a bit. Her neck’s way stiff from sitting so long.
She wanders over to the window, and grins to herself. Sweet view. Her new place is halfway up a hill, and she can see right across town. In the distance, the last bits of orange are just fading out of the sky.
And in town, the vamps are probably going out in the streets. Including a couple of them who…
No.
Faith walks away and switches on the lights, wondering if there’s anything good on tv.
Then she wonders how many vamps it’ll be.
Not too many, probably. A few of them could take her down, no problem. Hell, one’d probably be enough. After all, Willow’s not that good at fighting.
Surprise attack, neck snap, and it’d all be over, no sweat.
Maybe it already is.
“Serves her right.” But she bites her lip – and doesn’t want to look at the view anymore.
She hasn’t tried the stereo yet.
The Mayor’s put a bunch of CDs on the bookcase, ready for her to check out.
He’s got a couple of them right, but the rest – crap beyond belief, it looks like. They’ve got shiny, sunshiney covers, with these twinkie-lite chick bands wearing colourful tops and smiling at the camera.
Does he really think I’m, like, twelve?
She rolls her eyes, and grabs some real music from her bag. Proper, rocking stuff – none of that cheesy pop garbage.
Faith nods. This’ll be much better.
…then she puts it back in her bag, chooses the brightest, shiniest, twinkiest cover she can see, and turns it up full blast.
Yep. Much better.
Faith stands there for a minute, hands on hips, trying not to think about- Trying not to think.
And then she goes over to the punching bag – brand new and in real need of pummelling – and tries a few shots.
On the stereo, happy poppy song number one finishes with a bang, and bright giggly song two starts up.
It’s actually got a pretty good beat to it.
Right hook, left hook, double shot with the right…
It would’ve been quick.
Left hook, right hook…
A redhead running down the street, vamp grabbing her, and snap.
Roundhouse kick, and two from the left…
Or sinking his teeth into her, maybe.
Left hook, right hook, left hook…
Blood running down her neck onto whatever damn fuzzy sweater she’s wearing this time.
Right hook…
While she’s gasping for breath to scream.
Left hook- right hook- left hook- right hook- left hook…
Collapsing in the street for her friends to find too late.
Right-left-right-left-right-left-right-left-right-left-right-left-
“Shit!”
She spins and slams her fist into the wall, showering plaster dust in every direction.
Faith leans forward, hands on the wall, breathing hard.
Behind her, the punching bag is gently swinging, back and forth.
She closes her eyes, and says firmly, “She deserves it.”
And it’s too late now, anyway, even if she didn’t.
Her left hand closes in a fist, and once again: “The bitch deserves it.”
And that pretty much settles it.
She’s gone and got plaster all over the floor.
She’s not sure if there’s a broom or whatever, but it doesn’t matter. She’ll leave it til later.
Right now, she’s going to get a pizza. Big one, plenty of cheese, hold the anchovies.
And all on the city’s dime.
Faith grins, and looks out the window at all the tiny lights picking out a pattern in the darkness. It really is kinda pretty.
On the stereo, someone says “Come on, let’s rock!” and the whole band starts clapping along.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 12:23 am (UTC)