![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
katleept.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
giles_shortsTitle: Escape
Author: Kat Lee
Characters/Pairing: Giles
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge: Trains, Planes, and Automobiles
Word Count: 500
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners, not the author.
He grips his seat and counts to ten. He concentrates on his breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling air surely more rotten than the smog on London's worst days. When that doesn't work, he switches tactics to remember the lessons he's given. He recounts all the ways he has used, over the years, to advise Buffy to maintain her patience and keep her goal in mind no matter what other distractions arise. He tries every one. They all fail him.
His eyes shut. He tries to pretend he is somewhere, anywhere else. He pictures himself back home at London, sipping his tea and shutting himself away from the rest of the world and its troubles for a change. He tries to remember the feeling of strumming his guitar avidly enough to find the peace it grants him without actually removing the instrument. (There's no way, as Buffy might say, he's bringing his instrument out amongst this crowd!) He thinks of fights won and of loves lost. He recalls his favorite, cherished moments with Buffy and their friends. Still, nothing works.
He sighs and hangs his frustrated head as the miniature banshee wails again. The sleeping dragon growls next to him once more, and the buzz of the people all around talking excitedly about their dull lives has become a roar. Their words become hisses. Giles feels as though he's sitting in a nest full of vipers, but snakes would certainly be preferable to this lot! The banshee screams again. Giles' seat-gripping hand has turned white, but if he lets go of his seat, he knows he'll go for his sword.
He chides himself, but the disciplinarian tone of the Watcher only aggravates him more. He hasn't felt this way since he was Ripper, and now, more than he has since the last time he saved his Slayer, Giles wants to rip something apart with his bare hands. The dragon lunches. He ducks forward, but the creature's spit still falls onto his head. He knows he has no black hairs left, only a head full of gray, but if he doesn't escape this torment soon, by the time he does, he'll have nothing left but white!
He grips the hand of a woman trying to run down the aisle but has to pause a moment and refocus his bleary eyes to make sure that she is the woman he thinks and not Ethan or Jenny. "Madam," he whispers urgently, "I implore you. There must be some way I can advance my seating!"
"Not in mid-flight, Mister Giles."
"Surely you have at least one seat still available in First Class?"
Her silence is definite affirmation. "I do hate to resort this," he grumbles, reaching into an inside pocket on his tweed coat. The first fifty doesn't work its magic, but the second does. He follows her, thankfully leaving the screaming baby, sleeping biker, and infuriating people behind and promising himself that he will never again attempt to save on seating in public transportation!
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Characters/Pairing: Giles
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge: Trains, Planes, and Automobiles
Word Count: 500
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners, not the author.
He grips his seat and counts to ten. He concentrates on his breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling air surely more rotten than the smog on London's worst days. When that doesn't work, he switches tactics to remember the lessons he's given. He recounts all the ways he has used, over the years, to advise Buffy to maintain her patience and keep her goal in mind no matter what other distractions arise. He tries every one. They all fail him.
His eyes shut. He tries to pretend he is somewhere, anywhere else. He pictures himself back home at London, sipping his tea and shutting himself away from the rest of the world and its troubles for a change. He tries to remember the feeling of strumming his guitar avidly enough to find the peace it grants him without actually removing the instrument. (There's no way, as Buffy might say, he's bringing his instrument out amongst this crowd!) He thinks of fights won and of loves lost. He recalls his favorite, cherished moments with Buffy and their friends. Still, nothing works.
He sighs and hangs his frustrated head as the miniature banshee wails again. The sleeping dragon growls next to him once more, and the buzz of the people all around talking excitedly about their dull lives has become a roar. Their words become hisses. Giles feels as though he's sitting in a nest full of vipers, but snakes would certainly be preferable to this lot! The banshee screams again. Giles' seat-gripping hand has turned white, but if he lets go of his seat, he knows he'll go for his sword.
He chides himself, but the disciplinarian tone of the Watcher only aggravates him more. He hasn't felt this way since he was Ripper, and now, more than he has since the last time he saved his Slayer, Giles wants to rip something apart with his bare hands. The dragon lunches. He ducks forward, but the creature's spit still falls onto his head. He knows he has no black hairs left, only a head full of gray, but if he doesn't escape this torment soon, by the time he does, he'll have nothing left but white!
He grips the hand of a woman trying to run down the aisle but has to pause a moment and refocus his bleary eyes to make sure that she is the woman he thinks and not Ethan or Jenny. "Madam," he whispers urgently, "I implore you. There must be some way I can advance my seating!"
"Not in mid-flight, Mister Giles."
"Surely you have at least one seat still available in First Class?"
Her silence is definite affirmation. "I do hate to resort this," he grumbles, reaching into an inside pocket on his tweed coat. The first fifty doesn't work its magic, but the second does. He follows her, thankfully leaving the screaming baby, sleeping biker, and infuriating people behind and promising himself that he will never again attempt to save on seating in public transportation!
The End
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-11-21 06:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-27 02:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-21 08:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-27 02:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-22 08:32 am (UTC)Great work on the imagery. Well done.
no subject
Date: 2013-11-27 02:17 pm (UTC)