For [personal profile] idolstolemylook

Jan. 30th, 2014 02:00 am
fredless: (almost smirk by noelia_g)
[personal profile] fredless
To say it'd been a long week wasn't really being all that accurate. In some ways every single day since she'd been pulled out of her life felt long, longer than even the ones she put in at Wolfram and Hart. And by Fred's reckoning (and she reckoned math pretty darn well) she'd now collected over two months of them.

Almost a month ago now she'd taken to visiting Spike at least every few days at the bench he'd claimed as his own in one of the parks. The first night she'd brought him a pillow. After that she brought blood by the bottle, whenever she could. But mostly Fred was content to just bring herself. Inevitably conversation followed. The sort that made everything else around her feel a little bit less after.

And that counted for a whole lot.

Tonight, though? Well tonight was a bit different. Somehow in quiet, unassuming buried-in-a-bubble-underwater Gebo Fred had managed to go and find a bottle of tequila. Good tequila too, as much as she could tell. Of course, all those days and weeks and months being what they were? Telling wasn't good enough. She aimed to know.

Sliding onto the bench next to Spike, Fred silently placed the bottle between them.

sorry! I had to find this again...

Date: 2014-02-05 02:03 am (UTC)
idolstolemylook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] idolstolemylook
Spike looked at the bottle. He'd been expecting her, and trying not to, because when he got used to things was usually roughly when they went pear-shaped and he had to get used to something else. Which might have been where he learned to love chaos.

Chaotic or not, nice things happening over and over were things he shouldn't want to get used to. It would only end in tears and, if patterns served, murder.

"Is that... tequila?" he asked, disbelieving. "Or did you cleverly disguise blood as booze to fuck with me?"

Date: 2014-02-05 05:52 am (UTC)
idolstolemylook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] idolstolemylook
"Bloody story of my life," Spike muttered, only halfheartedly. He gazed at the bottle another moment, then picked it up. Weight felt right. He grinned over at Fred, screwing off the top. "What'd I do, to warrant this gift?"

Date: 2014-02-06 06:12 am (UTC)
idolstolemylook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] idolstolemylook
Spike honestly couldn't fathom what pleasure someone like her would have gotten from his company, so far. She was too clever, and too sweet. What could he offer, from where he stood?

All he could do, at this point (when she'd made up her mind), was try.

"Here," he said, offering her the open bottle. "For that, you get dibs."

Date: 2014-02-09 06:46 am (UTC)
idolstolemylook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] idolstolemylook
Spike watched in admiration. Fred drank with the spindly determination with which she did everything. And it should have looked ridiculous, and it sort of did but it also just seemed really... brave.

Well. If getting truly soused was an act of courage. There was only one thing for it--join her and see. Spike took his own swallow, aided by not having to breathe. He felt its warmth immediately. He'd dried out a little, so between less booze and a lot less blood, it was going to hit him sooner rather than later.

"Wow," he said. "That's the real stuff, all right."

Date: 2014-02-11 06:27 am (UTC)
idolstolemylook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] idolstolemylook
Spike, who had drunk a great deal of cheap booze in his day, begged to differ. Then again, her lifetime was a lot shorter than his was, potentially, and given that fact, maybe she was right. He'd lived too long to be choosy, but if all you had was eighty years? Yeah, too little time to waste on bad drink.

He took another swig and handed the bottle back.

"It ever feel like you can't get warm, down here?" he mused. "I mean, bein' underwater an' everything. And I don't even get cold."

It was just a weird effect of the domes. Or maybe it was just him. Either way, the warmth of the fire trailing down his gullet brought it to mind, in contrast.

Date: 2014-03-05 06:38 am (UTC)
idolstolemylook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] idolstolemylook
She was right. But not just about Gebo. About all of it. Spike handed her the bottle, and watched thoughtfully as she drank.

"Like you're just waitin'," he said softly. "Like the rug could be pulled out from under any moment. Like... nothin' you build's like to stay."

He stopped, because it wasn't fair to lay this on her. And he wasn't nearly drunk enough to forget that. But it was true--at no point since coming here had he stopped believing he might wake up at any moment. Wake up dead, most likely, but wake up just the same.

Date: 2014-03-07 04:45 am (UTC)
idolstolemylook: (head tilt: concerned)
From: [personal profile] idolstolemylook
"Yeah," Spike sighed, taking the bottle back. But he paused, studying her. "No, wait. Not you. You didn't think I meant you, did you? Christ, I know what loser looks like. Isn't you."

That much was obvious. Fred was brilliant, beautiful, and not entirely self-destructive. Perceptive enough to understand what he was saying, but far better than he was. If anything, it drew him away from his own self-pity.

"I know we're in a tight spot," he went on, touching her arm awkwardly. "But we'll get through it. Some big brain like yours'll find a way back. I know it."

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Fred Burkle

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