walkswithheroes | (no subject)

Entry tags:

jason,
spike

(no subject)

She really should have seen this coming.

Just a week ago, Fred had been talking to Olivia about how maybe the island was just buttering them all up. They'd gotten a carnival and rides and prizes and every kind of yummy deep fried food that Fred could think of, so of course the giant stuffed bunny that she'd won had suddenly come to life only to try to savagely murder her with its bunny teeth. It was just the way this dimension worked.

Five minutes later, and she's standing in the hallway of the compound, an axe in both hands, in the middle of a stare-down with the carnival prize.

"Okay, Mister Oppenheimer," she says, using his full name to emphasize the seriousness of the situation, "One of us is about to be a pile of fluffy bunny stuffing, and it's not me."

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"Oh, I see the little bugger," Spike drawled, arching a brow when the creature hopped closer, teeth chattering excitedly, clearly hungry for blood.

"Sure you want to kill it? Throw a collar on it, you might have yourself a nice pet."

She takes a cautious step back as the bunny hops closer, grip on her axe tightening.

"Yeah, sure, it's cute and fluffy until you get to know his teeth," Fred replies, turning her body slightly so that Spike can see a scrape on her arm from where J. Robert the Bunny had nearly gotten a clean bite.

"It probably doesn't have rabies, right?"

"Let's hope not, shall we?" he said, and it was unconscious, moving himself a bit in front of her. Knowing full well that she could hold her own, he still felt an oddly instinctive need to look after her.

Growing tired of simply standing there, the three of them sizing each other up, Spike strode forward, bringing his axe down in a clean arc that severed one overly floppy ear. The creature shrieked, scurrying back a few feet but not quite ready to flee.

"Remind me later to tell you the time that Angel got himself turned into a puppet."

"You know, this is what I get for naming him after the father of the atom bomb. What, was I supposed to expect him to not be homicidal?" Fred muses.

There's a part of Fred that instantly thinks 'poor bunny', when Spike lops off J. Robert's little bunny ear, but that impulse is quickly gone when it lunges forward and she steps around Spike to knock it back with the blunt part of her axe. Mostly because of what Spike's said.

The bunny stumbles back, seemingly disoriented for the moment.

"A puppet? Like the kind with little felt hands and strings?" She sounds maybe a little too amused at the image.

"Less strings and more uncomfortable with a hand up his arse for the remainder of his unlife," Spike said with an amused tilt of his lips, using the rabbit's momentary disorientation to take another swing, this time aiming to lop off the bloody thing's head.

"Tiny felt hands. Detachable felt nose. Quite adorable, really."

"Oh my god, I bet he was adorable," Fred says, trying to imagine it, there's a lot that she's sure happened to her in the dimension that Spike's from, but that's one she kinda hopes she'll get to see eventually, "Adorable and probably really annoyed."

Spike swings again at the bunny and hits the mark, its head coming off in far less violent manner than she expects. Mostly, there's just a lot of stuffing.

"Rest in peace, Mr. Oppenheimer."

"Oh, annoyed's an understatement, love. He was furious," Spike said, chuckling at the memory. Arching a brow, he picked a bit of fluff from the blade of his axe and said, "Well, that was disappointing."

It wasn't that he was hoping for a bloodier fight, but-- Oh, no wait. That was exactly what he'd been hoping for.

"Poor Angel," Fred replies, and while there's a little initial worry about whether or not Angel made it back to normal, she likes to think that Spike would be a little more broken up about it if Angel had turned into a puppet forever back home. He may not like Angel all that much, but he's not that mean.

She frowns at the bits of stuffing at their feet now.

"I guess that's the trade-off for the amusement park. Why do I have this funny feeling that the rest of the toys are doing the same thing?"

Shifting the weight of the axe in his hands, he arched a brow at her, nodding toward the door and asked, "How about we go and have ourselves a bit of fun?"

There was no way he was staying out of the action, and he knew she could handle herself. Especially with him keeping an eye on her.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Fred replies, expression brightening. It's just like back home, what with the helping the helpless.

"Oh! You're gonna need a better axe, though. Hold on a sec."

She disappears into her room down the hall for just a few seconds, and when she emerges, she's holding one of the larger axes from her weapons cabinet. It's a good thing she thought to sharpen it a few days back.

"Well," Spike said, taking the axe with something akin to reverence, "Now this is a thing of beauty."

The rusted hunk of junk he'd nicked from Rapture fell to the floor with a clang. He'd come by and pick it up later. Possibly.

"If there was one good thing about Angel Investigations, it's that it more than prepares you for invasions by suddenly alive demon carnival prizes," Fred replies, and she tightens her grip on her own axe, which is a bit smaller than the one she handed to Spike, but will do the job just as well.

"Suppose it did have its high points," Spike conceded. There were moments at Wolfram and Hart that he looked upon fondly, though most of those had to do with her. And taking the piss out of Angel, 'til that vein in his forehead started to bulge, of course.

Tilting his head down the corridor toward the door leading outside, he said, "Shall we?"

"Absolutely," she says, because it's their duty, right? Helping the helpless. Well, maybe not everyone on the island is exactly helpless, but Fred is sure that someone is. It's not like everyone was expecting sentient and murderous carnival prizes.

She strides past him to head out the front door, her axe slung over her shoulder.

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