action + joint post ✪ out of some sentimental gain -- i wanted you to feel my pain

[herotypical]

[ buffy and spike have been out a-missioning -- only it hasn't gone quite as...merrily as they might have hoped. you see, they’re back a little early. spike decided to make an escape attempt and, in doing so, he’s brought malnosso justice down on both their heads. it’s all terribly unfair.

their punishment? one doozy of a bodyswap. spike is buffy and buffy is spike. and neither of them are too pleased about it.

sartre once claimed that 'hell is other people'; however, a situation like this makes a convincing argument that hell is, in fact, being other people. after they argue their way out of a proverbial wet paper bag and manage to find better clothing than the new feather garb they're initially given, they'll be available (throughout the next few days) to be mocked or sympathized with or awkwardly avoided all around town, depending on the individual.

find top comments below for either buffy's thread or spike's thread or -- if you’re looking for a thread with both of them -- buffy and spike. buffy’s tags will come from deadhero and spike’s tags will come from heroatypical. please don’t hesitate to tag all three options if that’ll float your boat. ]

Comments

[heroatypical]

"Bloody hell." He couldn't resist. Not information like this. He got to his feet. "Fine. What's your pleasure?"

[greenjacketed]

...Victory.

"Brandy'll do. Much obliged."

[heroatypical]

Spike made his way around the bar. It took him a bit longer than it should to find the brandy, but once he did, he turned around and filled a glass. Half full.

"Start talking."

[greenjacketed]

Half-full? Well enough. Sharpe only intended to nurse the drink, anyway. You just didn't get blind drunk amongst people you couldn't necessarily trust. So he took a short drink and allowed the burn to settle on his tongue before saying a single word.

Then -- eventually -- and fully aware that (for once) he had the reins of a conversation: "The man made a bad call, lass. And -- certan enough -- he said that souls were a serious business for you but...all he rightly wants is your forgiveness. And you'd better give it quick before he goes a-changing on you."

The pirate had seemed so...desperate, that day on the steps.

[heroatypical]

"You know." He leaned forward, adding a bit more to the glass. "Jack never bothered telling me the full story. Thought maybe I couldn't handle it, right? Did he tell you?"

Because Spike really really wanted to know. Suddenly he was willing to play the role of demure barmaid if it got him what he wanted.

[greenjacketed]

...Christ almighty. Sharpe pulled a face and went back to sipping his drink while he considered his words. Jack was a comrade of sorts -- two missions, now, and plenty of conversation besides. A scoundrel if he'd ever seen one but Sharpe could only ever admire the effort the Captain put into his courtship. He didn't want to bugger anything up for the pirate by saying the wrong thing.

But -- rare for him -- he at least thought he should plead Sparrow's case.

"Aye. He told me." Careful, careful. "And he said as well that you were upset enough at the thought of him thinking up his ploy, however old and unsuccessful it was. It's daft and it sounds silly, lass, but I suppose he fears that your heart's too beautiful for his. He said as much, he did."

There. Let that stew there for a moment -- let her be reminded that no matter what the pirate did, he didn't want to be that person anymore. Or so Sharpe had gathered. Also? Perhaps, he'd getting a better idea of just how much of the 'full story' hadn't yet been told.

[heroatypical]

This was all frustratingly vague. He did his best not to show his annoyance, but he was never very good at that.

"Souls are serious business. Not business for some ploy. I deserve better than that."

A bluff. He was only piecing together the fragments Sharpe had already said, but he hoped it was enough to weasel out more.

[greenjacketed]

"Desperate men do daft things. Especially when their life's at risk. But it happened even a'fore he met you, lass. Long before he fell for you. Though I don't think he'd argue with that last point."

[heroatypical]

"He still did it, didn't he? Not like he can blame a lack of soul for his evil deeds. Did it on his own initiative, he did. I don't see much reason why he wouldn't do it again." Whatever it was.

[greenjacketed]

...Angry women were so difficult to converse with -- especially when you couldn't just fix the problem by sweeping them up into your arms and going back to your place.

"He's fixing himself. Said that in his own words, too. No more dodgy soul deals."

[heroatypical]

"Fixing himself. Well, makes it all better, doesn't it?" He paused. "But you've only told me what I already knew."

[greenjacketed]

"I suspect all I know is what you already know, Miss Summers. He planned to trick a hundred souls into devilish servitude. The self-same reason you're angry with him, eh?"

[heroatypical]

That pirate bastard tried to sell the souls of one hundred people? And Buffy is in love with him? Bloody hell, Spike was never that bad even at his worst. He never doomed anyone to hell, anyway.

"... yeah, that's what I heard. Makes me justifiable upset, that."

[greenjacketed]

"...Have you left him, then?"

Jack had feared it; he hadn't seemed to know one way or the other, despite Sharpe's protests.

[heroatypical]

"No. Other way around, really."

He filled the rest of the glass. "Well then, you've got your drink, haven't you? Now can I go back to mine?"

[greenjacketed]

"O-ther way r--"

But he was being dismissed. So -- instead of pushing his boundaris with th woman, he dropped his attention to the brandy. He'll have to track down Sparrow, later. Ask him what the hell was up.

[heroatypical]

It was enough. Spike sat himself down and returned to his drink, intent on ignoring Sharpe. Until he finished, anyway.