quinara: Spke standing over the Chinese Slayer, with the caption 'Slayer' at his feet. (Spike Slayer)
[personal profile] quinara
So last year [personal profile] stultiloquentia made a list of the quotes she liked in 2008 and I thought it was very cool. Over the course of last year therefore I've attempted to keep track of fic that had lines that made me go 'hee' or 'ooh' or 'wow'. I'm not sure how successful I was, because I think I enjoyed a lot more than I remembered to remember, but this is at least an attempt to recreate what fic in 2009 felt like for me:

2009

Surprise! Buffy Summers is not built to lead armies! People skills? Ability to communicate? Respect for authority? That’s a big n-o. The only shocker here is that it took them two years to figure it out. (Walk Like an Egyptian by [livejournal.com profile] confusedkayt.)

.

Outside the sunbaked flats of the Mojave stretched off towards the horizon, where jagged teeth of mountains nipped at the bright blue sky. The backwards scrollwork of neon in the diner's flyspecked window flickered "ARLIE'S DINER" in time to the pounding of her heart. (Family Matters by [livejournal.com profile] rahirah.)

.

“New world?" His goddess was frowning again. "What has that to do with anything? I met him in Exeter."

"Oh." Samuel felt his face grow warm again. "Forgive me, ma'am. From your accent, I had assumed…"

But his goddess cut him short. "Think nothing of it, Mr Bentley. You are not the first to say such a thing, but really it is quite tiresome. I speak as I have always spoken, and it is the world that has changed, not I." (Venus and Mars by [livejournal.com profile] shapinglight.)

.

That was okay, Harmony thought, men never did get the point of unicorns. (Travelling Light by [livejournal.com profile] bogwitch.)

.

“So, we don’t have anyone in China?” Buffy asked. “Is that right? Are we sure? Is it a big deal? Who did the Council have?”

Giles coughed, a little embarrassed. “The Communist regime isn’t terribly Council-friendly. Our presence there has been a trifle... fragmented lately. We should, of course, start to rectify that position, but...”

“But basically, we got no one, we know nothing, and it hasn’t been a problem for a while so let’s hope it’s all okay for now?” Ah. Faith had apparently been listening after all. (Building a New World by [livejournal.com profile] brutti_ma_buoni.)

.

Spike is very skilled
at giving the oral sex.
Like you. ‘Cause you’re gay! ( “Intervention” Spaiku 10.V by [livejournal.com profile] mere_ubu.)

.

There was a clatter in the lobby, and the door burst open to reveal Spike, fanning out his smoking coat. “I have got to find a better way to get here in the daytime,” he muttered. He looked up, to see Fred scooting behind Wesley, and the whole room staring at him. “Oh,” he said, with mock cheer, “So you’ve heard.”

Fred made a small, distressed noise. Gunn stepped closer to the desk, meaning to call security. Spike rolled his eyes and turned to face Angel. He pulled something out of his duster. Everyone flinched. Spike tossed it on the desk.

An ornate handle stuck out of two pieces of cardboard, thoroughly duct-taped around the business end of the dagger. “There’s your bloody dagger. And seeing as how that hit was meant for you, Peaches, you owe me. Fix it.”

“Fix it?” Angel asked, looking at the dagger as though expecting it to be damaged.

“I want it back.” Spike’s voice broke a little.

“You want it back?” Angel looked a little horrified.

Wesley was inching close to the desk, eyes darting from the dagger to Spike with intense interest. Fred was trying to make sure Gunn and Wesley were between her and the vampires. Gunn wasn’t sure what to do, or whose reaction freaked him out the most.

Spike was shaking with anger. “It’s mine and I want it back. Do you have any idea what I went through to get it?” (The Soul-Drinker by [livejournal.com profile] hello_spikey.)

.

Buffy collected the duster. It wasn't Spike's old one, she noted with some surprise. It smelled better. (Do the Next Thing by [personal profile] stultiloquentia.)

.

Paul gives her an incredulous look. "What he does to her. He wants her to be something she's not, something that never existed. He wants it so much he destroys her. It's sick."

"Well. Yes. It is. The whole thing is." He's really looking at her right now, as if he really sees her and is interested in what she's saying. "I mean, what's wrong with him is wrong with all of it, the whole movie." (Vertigo by [personal profile] innocentsmith.)

.

Death is her art
The Slayer glows in every fight
Desperation is our fuel (Villanelle by [livejournal.com profile] brutti_ma_buoni.)

.

“Peace, daughter.” Sekhmet’s voice is surprisingly normal, leaking out of her lion’s mouth. “I mean to do you honor, not harm.”

Buffy grips the scythe tighter. “No offense, but your idea of an honor…”

“Is not so very far from yours.” A smile plastered across a lion’s mouth was disconcerting, to say the least. “Is it not beautiful? You wield it well.” (Walk Like an Egyptian by [livejournal.com profile] confusedkayt.)

.

Unable avoid it any longer and supposing that he should just lie back and think of Fortnum and Mason, Giles tasted his drink. It was tea, but not as he knew it. He swallowed it quickly. (Going Native by [livejournal.com profile] bogwitch.)

.

Susan sighed. "There's nothing on that paper." (Like an Onion Inside Out (The Doctor, the Queen, and the TARDIS Remix) by [livejournal.com profile] spiralleds.)

.

Tara nervously cleared her throat to get their attention, then immediately felt conspicuous when they turned to look at her. But they had to know, because it was important. And scary. “He called again.”

“Who?”

“The religious nut—the one who—”

“The one who thinks he’s an angel?”

Tara shuddered and nodded. It was the third time she’d answered the phone to hear a deep angry voice insisting the caller was an angel. She wasn’t religious—at least, she didn’t think she was—but the thought of an angry angel frightened her deeply.

“Okay, this is nuts!” protested Dawn. “Let’s just change the number before Freaky McFreakerson decides to put us on speed dial.”

Anya shrieked and actually came out from behind the cash register, horrified by the idea. “Changing your phone number is a terrible idea—it’ll confuse all your customers and your business with suffer.”

“What customers?” asked Joan.

“What business?” added Dawn.

“And you really shouldn’t listen to adolescents—they’re irrational by nature. I would suggest waiting for ten to twelve years and then seeing if her advice has improved.” (Joan and Randy vs. The Replicant by [livejournal.com profile] shadowlass.)

.

"Shall I kill him?" Spike's tone was so matter-of-fact that she gaped at him in astonishment.

"What? No!"

"Not like it'll do him any real harm," Spike protested. "Bastard's bound by his contract. He'll be back ten minutes later." (The Worst Journey in the World by [livejournal.com profile] shapinglight.)

.

Evie eyed the pile of dust. "Well, fuck. Now we need another accountant. He was the only one who knew the code to the safe. Can I have his office?" (The Hero of the Piece by [livejournal.com profile] rahirah.)

.

As we lie that night, joined closer than ever, she tells me her true name. I am honoured.

And no, of course it is not Darla. (An End of It by [livejournal.com profile] brutti_ma_buoni.)

.

"I'm not a piece of meat, you know." (Ficlet by [livejournal.com profile] hello_spikey.)

.

It was a game; simple on the surface, but at the more difficult levels, as exciting and challenging as wielding a sword. (Games People Play by [personal profile] lady_ganesh.)

.

Sekhmet’s on her knees now. Wait, no… Yes. Oh, ick. She’s sucking down the red fluid (so what if it smells like blood and looks like blood – it’s fluid), sucking so powerfully that the other three gods are scrambling to climb out of the resulting funnel. It’s clearly a losing battle – the funnel is the size of a football field now, dragging even Sekhmet down. The others seem to be bowing to the inevitable – wimps – and maybe it’s her guilty conscience talking, but the one sort of storky-looking god seemed to shake his scales at her. (Walk Like an Egyptian by [livejournal.com profile] confusedkayt.)

.

Well done Buffy, got your guy
Vampire’s better, second try
Does it matter that he’s dead?
“What the hell,” you must have said.
“Pecs defined and washboard abs
I won’t think of who he’s stabbed.
Pleasure keeps the soul alive
Why disapprove? Why deprive?” (Anacreontic by [livejournal.com profile] brutti_ma_buoni.)

.

"Have we won?" Her voice sounded strange to her, hoarse – like her vocal cords were singed.

"I dunno." He shook his vamp face away. "The old man'd be proud of you, though."

She shuddered, feeling again the sensation of the Scythe cutting through flesh and bone, the wooden point sliding between scales the colour of poison to pierce the dragon's brain. (The Worst Journey in the World by [livejournal.com profile] shapinglight.)

.

He was on a white sand beach, the cliffs to one side, the seas to the other, and Susan, no longer in his arms, but standing before him, dressed in full queenly regalia, her fingers twined in the mane of a lion the size of a small elephant. Perhaps he'd underestimated the level of poison in the air.

"Son of Time, welcome," said the lion, the ground trembling with the timbre of his voice. (Like an Onion Inside Out (The Doctor, the Queen, and the TARDIS Remix) by [livejournal.com profile] spiralleds.)

.

"Suppose we'll have to stop for appetizers on the way back to the crypt. They have a Fortnum & Mason's around here?" (The Hero of the Piece by [livejournal.com profile] rahirah.)

.

"Tea?" Buffy felt her fists clenching again. "Is that your answer to everything?"

"No, of course not." Wesley almost smiled his superior smile, but seemed to think better of it. "But it can't hurt, can it?" (The Worst Journey in the World by [livejournal.com profile] shapinglight.)

.

Teabag. Not even Twinings at the very least, just some supermarket own brand. Generic, not even so much as an Earl Grey or an Assam.

Buffy handed the mug over, her proud smile hanging on his reaction. She’d left the spoon in too. (Going Native by [livejournal.com profile] bogwitch.)

.

Can I Be Blind, Two:
Buffy! Rocking and straddling—
Spike hips! Hips of Spike! ( “Intervention” Spaiku 7.III by [livejournal.com profile] mere_ubu.)

.

At once, out of the blue, it struck him, and very forcibly, that the girl was stark raving mad. (Venus and Mars by [livejournal.com profile] shapinglight.)

.

Illyria gave Buffy a once-over. "You choose your clothing purposefully. You wrap your power in those—frivolities—to remind yourself of your alliance with humanity."

Buffy sighed and looked down: tan suede skirt, cashmere sweater in a pretty, feminine rose. Boots. All right, the scarf was a little floofy. "Actually, no," she told Illyria. "I am human. And frivolous. I didn't pick these clothes to remind myself of anything. I just like them."

"I do not like anything," said Illyria.

Buffy leaned against the stone wall and bundled up her armful of leather. "That must suck." (Do the Next Thing by [personal profile] stultiloquentia.)

.

He reached over his shoulder and yanked the crossbow bolt free, and shook the bloodstained shaft at David's nose. "You must think I'm thick as two short planks, mate, if you think I don't notice when a chap's egging me on." He rounded on the Slayer. "And you - you're no better! Thinking I'm going to run off and kill the first - all right, I was going to kill her, but..."

An unaccountable sadness welled up within him. They'd all known him so much better than he knew himself. "I really am evil, aren't I?" (The Hero of the Piece by [livejournal.com profile] rahirah.)

.

In the light, he looked so young, and strangely flushed. Anne had explained that part, at least. His hair was still platinum, mussed from the heat of battle, his lips damp and slightly parted.

"Come in," she said, through force of habit, and after a moment he stepped across the threshold. He was so close to her, and she smelled him for the first time in years: the new scent of sweat layered over cigarettes, battle stench, and that indefinable Spike smell.

Of all things, this was the one that made her cry. (Dirty Children by [livejournal.com profile] ladyofthelog.)

.

She blasphemes, as so often: “Godspeed, petit Luc.” (An End of It by [livejournal.com profile] brutti_ma_buoni.)

.

Someone – someone who wasn’t Spike – really needed to make existence a little less prone to ending at the drop of a hat. (Divine Interruption by [livejournal.com profile] bogwitch.)

.

He’d tasted Willow’s power when they’d joined, tasted the sheen of metal on his lips. He’d felt what she had done and it had been like they were skimming above the surface of a dark, forbidding sea and then Willow had summoned a wave. A wave that had scoured his face with salt. A wave that had thundered in his ears and could crash them all onto rocks if Willow lost her slippery grasp on its power. A wave heaving with massive, unknown sea creatures, bucking against their watery prison. He’d felt the rush of standing on top of the wave and riding it to the edge of the cliff, but it left him sick and dizzy and afraid.

Not Willow, though, who had gasped on the floor of the Initiative like something had just made her toes curl up. (A Watcher Scoffs at Gravity by [livejournal.com profile] dipenates.)

.

Lights out, curtains closed.

That's all, folks. (Coda by [livejournal.com profile] rahirah.)
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quinara: Sheep on a hillside with a smiley face. (Default)
Quinara

June 2014

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