Three Damage Ficlets

[amejisuto.livejournal.com]

Okay I wrote these for slashthedrabble and posted them there here night. Now they’re here and have been cleaned up and helped by my lovely and talented beta kitty_poker1. So I’m posting them again now that they’re all nice and beta’d. Hope y’all enjoy!

Oh! And lookit the pretty pirate icon sukibluefiction made me! **bounces**



Title: Marked for Life 500 Words
Author: Amejisuto
Pairing: Jack Sparrow/Will Turner
Rating: R for language
Feedback: Please
Concrit: by email, please
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Mention of torture and physical hurt.
Summary: Jack takes care of Will after he’s been worked over by Redcoats.
Notes: Written for slashthedrabble, the challenge called for damage. Like the mean person I am I decided to torture Will. Poor boy.


By the time they made their escape from Norrington’s men and found their way back to the Pearl, Will was swaying on his feet. The adrenalin had left his body and he could feel himself shake. If it wasn’t for his Captain’s arm around his shoulders, he would never have made it over the side of the ship.

It was dark and there was fog in the small bay where the Pearl was hidden. Once the last of their group and a few others they had picked up in the prison he’d been thrown in had boarded, Jack gave orders for the sails to be unfurled and to weigh anchor. There was no way Norrington could catch them once they made the open waters; the Pearl was too fast.

The next few minutes were a blur and the next thing Will noticed was the sting of rum on his wounds. Norrington himself had worked him over, and he knew he must look a sight. He couldn’t tell for himself as both of his eyes were nearly swollen shut.

“Bloody fucking bastard. That prig had better keep to dry land; if I ever see him in open waters 'm not even going to try to capture. No, it’ll be a trip to the deep for him. We’ll even put into port and you can make the cannon balls yourself, luv, sign your name to them all pretty like.”

Will tried to chuckle, really he did, but his ribs just hurt too much. “Sounds good, but you’ll have to wait till I’m better. I’ll engrave ‘Courtesy of Captain Jack Sparrow and Will Turner’ on them. The blasted man is becoming obsessed.”

A soft touch on the wrist of his right arm and he could almost feel his lover’s hand hovering over it. “Don’t worry about it, Jack, I’ve had worse in my forge.”

”Will you fucking well stop with the stiff upper lip and bitch a little, luv? You’re making your Captain look like a sissy, what with you being all stoic. Over half the crew’s been branded a pirate and we all know it hurts like a bitch so gasp a little at the very least, eh?”

He could feel rum being poured into the burn to clean it out before Jack dried it and started wrapping it up. Truthfully it didn’t hurt, the burn from the brand had been left so long that the nerve endings in his flesh had been burned away. Jostling the broken arm hurt, though, so he did let out a long string of curse words, mostly learned from his Captain.

“That’s it, luv, and quite colorful too. Kiss your Mum with that mouth?”

“No, only this stubborn insane bastard who thinks he’s god’s gift to the seven seas.”

“Pot and kettle, Mr. Turner, for if I’m stubborn and insane, what are you for following me about?”

Jack’s voice had lost the tenseness and Will knew his worry had lessened. “I guess it must be love.”





Title: Damage Control 500 Words
Author: Amejisuto
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: R for language
Feedback: Please
Concrit: by email, please
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: None really.
Summary: Xander tried to help Spike when he moved into the basement with him.
Notes: Some of the lines for this ficlet have been taken directly from the episode Hush, I’ve just twisted them a bit to fit my needs.


Xander sighed and invited Spike into his beautiful basement dwelling, insert sarcasm here. The vampire had bitched and moaned the entire way from Giles’ about how he didn’t need no “sodding babysitter” and that the Scoobies were being cruel.

If anyone had asked him, Xander would have proclaimed about how much he hated vampires in general and Spike in particular. But to himself he admitted the truth; he had a sort of…grudging admiration for the bleached menace and kind of felt sorry for him.

After all, he and Spike had a lot in common, first and foremost an intense hatred of Angel and Angelus. When he was at the mansion to rescue Giles he had seen Spike club Deadboy upside the head with the tire iron and his face had one of the happiest expressions he’d ever seen.

For another thing, both he and Spike had the worst taste in females. Anya and he were pretty much just fuck buddies but Spike had been with Harmony. Ewwww. That in itself was enough to make Xander feel sorry for the other man. It was a fate worse than death or undeath. Add in the whole 'chipped by the Government goons’ thing and he felt…pity for the vampire.

But he knew that if he was in the same situation he wouldn’t want pity, or someone being nice to him. He’d be angry as hell and want someone to take it out on. That Xander could do.

He gestured towards the ugly orange chair that felt like hell when anyone sat on it for more than a minute or so. “Sit down, blondie, and I’ll get the ropes. I don’t care what you or Giles say, you’re too dangerous to be left on your own down here. “

He turned to grab the rope but looked at Spike from the corner of his eye. For just a moment he looked…pleased. He tried not to grin. He could help Spike feel better by being a bastard.

He tried not to think about why he might want Spike to feel better.

“Don’t see why I have to be tied up.”

But Spike sat in the chair and held still while Xander wrapped the rope around his torso and then his wrists. He wasn’t stupid, Spike could break them at any time; hell, he could break the chair. “It’s just while I’m sleeping.”

“Oh, like I’d bite you anyway.”

Xander stripped and got into bed. “Oh, you would.” And when was it his brain went on autopilot, anyhow?

“Not bloody likely.”

“I happen to be very bitable, pal. I’m moist and delicious.”

“Alright, yeah, fine. You’re a nummy treat.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

They continued to banter, annoying each other. Still, it was an odd feeling, almost…friendly. And it got Spike to stop pouting, even though the pout was cute. Xander groaned and covered his face with his pillow. Maybe he could smother himself, because he'd just thought of Spike as cute.

He was doomed.




Title: Bedside Manner 300 Words
Author: Amejisuto
Pairing: Wesley/Gunn
Rating: R for language
Feedback: Please
Concrit: by email, please
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Mention of Wes being hurt.
Summary: Gunn takes care of Wesley after being shot.
Notes: Some of the lines from this one have been taken from the Angel episode Thin Dead Line and again I’ve twisted them to suit my needs.


Gunn sits in the darkened hotel room, waiting for Wesley to wake up. The surgery had gone well. He just couldn’t believe this skinny, sometimes smart, sometimes stupid as all get out white guy took a shot that was meant for him. His boys hadn’t believed it either. It was the first time some white dude even cared about anyone in his neighborhood, much less tried to help.

Slowly Wesley opens his eyes and blinks a few times. His eyes look different without the glasses, and the drugs they’re pumping into him keep him from focusing too much. He’s reminded of a kitten with blue eyes his little sis used to have and shakes his head to clear it of the odd image.

“Hey.”

Wes’s eyes focus for a moment and he smiles. “Hey.”

Gunn finds his breath caught in his chest for a moment. “How you doing?”

“Oh, I feel as if I should be in a great deal of pain.”

“Getting gut-shot will do that to you.”

“And yet,” Wes looks at the IV that’s in his hand. “Is this morphine?”

He nods and tries to keep from laughing at the drugged look on his friend’s face.

“Well, it’s bloody lovely!” Wesley giggles and Gunn can’t help but smile. He grabs Wes’ hand and puts it back in the bed.

“Just get some rest, white bread. We’ve got some things to talk about when you’re less doped up. Like about how some fools seem to jump in front of the line of fire for me.”

Wesley makes a few more sleepy noises and drifts off again, and Gunn leans back in his chair. He kind of liked a muzzy Wesley; he let his shields down and lost his properness.

Yeah, it was definitely time to have a talk.