Post by Jack Lupus on Jun 28, 2007 19:03:17 GMT -5
((Not really a story, just little pieces of stories that I neglected to finish.))
Cassandra stomps and screams and begs for weeks until John breaks down and calls in sick for the first time in seven years. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t her temper tantrums that melted his resolve and made him give into the whims of a five year old. No, his darling child, whom he thinks takes after him just a little too much for her own good, walked calmly into his home office and stared up at him with those huge, expectant, chocolate brown eyes she inherited from her mother and simply said ‘father’ like it was the f**k**g bill of rights. The word made him feel guilty and old all at once and he had to restrain himself from taking her to the damn ice rink right then and there.
Cassandra coughs and sneezes for days but Xander doesn’t really worry until she crawls out of bed one night and comes back with an extra blanket. He reaches for her forehead and isn’t really surprised to find her skin hot to the touch even though she’s shivering. She snuggles up against him like she can leach the heat right out of him just by wanting it bad enough. He kisses her forehead and promises himself he’ll make her go to the doctor in the morning.
If she doesn’t acknowledge his presence, then perhaps he will have the good grace to fall off the face of the earth. It’s rather easy once she gets started: he’s not talking to Jack, he’s not walking over, he’s not standing in front of her. What’s that you’re asking, Mr. Nonexistent? I can’t seem to hear you.
The white knight Cassandra dreamed of as a little girl turns out to be the guy who waters her plants and always brings her home an extra cappuccino, so if her childhood self would have been disappointed, Cass feels sorry for her.
Cassandra makes these hot little moaning noises when Xander bites her, so he can’t really be blamed when he gets a little overzealous and breaks the skin.
Cass whimpered, groping under the covers until her hand found Xander. She sat up, watching him for several moments and only settling down against him when she saw his chest rise and fall. When the tears came, red hot from fear and relief, she didn’t try to be quiet. She wanted him to wake up so he could comfort her. Cass clung tightly to him, afraid her dream would be true and Xander would be gone if she loosened her grip for a second.
When the temperature plummets fifteen degrees one night in January, the two of them curl up together in the bed like puppies and hold onto one another for warmth.
Cassandra stomps and screams and begs for weeks until John breaks down and calls in sick for the first time in seven years. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t her temper tantrums that melted his resolve and made him give into the whims of a five year old. No, his darling child, whom he thinks takes after him just a little too much for her own good, walked calmly into his home office and stared up at him with those huge, expectant, chocolate brown eyes she inherited from her mother and simply said ‘father’ like it was the f**k**g bill of rights. The word made him feel guilty and old all at once and he had to restrain himself from taking her to the damn ice rink right then and there.
Cassandra coughs and sneezes for days but Xander doesn’t really worry until she crawls out of bed one night and comes back with an extra blanket. He reaches for her forehead and isn’t really surprised to find her skin hot to the touch even though she’s shivering. She snuggles up against him like she can leach the heat right out of him just by wanting it bad enough. He kisses her forehead and promises himself he’ll make her go to the doctor in the morning.
If she doesn’t acknowledge his presence, then perhaps he will have the good grace to fall off the face of the earth. It’s rather easy once she gets started: he’s not talking to Jack, he’s not walking over, he’s not standing in front of her. What’s that you’re asking, Mr. Nonexistent? I can’t seem to hear you.
The white knight Cassandra dreamed of as a little girl turns out to be the guy who waters her plants and always brings her home an extra cappuccino, so if her childhood self would have been disappointed, Cass feels sorry for her.
Cassandra makes these hot little moaning noises when Xander bites her, so he can’t really be blamed when he gets a little overzealous and breaks the skin.
Cass whimpered, groping under the covers until her hand found Xander. She sat up, watching him for several moments and only settling down against him when she saw his chest rise and fall. When the tears came, red hot from fear and relief, she didn’t try to be quiet. She wanted him to wake up so he could comfort her. Cass clung tightly to him, afraid her dream would be true and Xander would be gone if she loosened her grip for a second.
When the temperature plummets fifteen degrees one night in January, the two of them curl up together in the bed like puppies and hold onto one another for warmth.
