One hand holds a lantern, the other holds on to a small, drunk woman who's giggling her way back to the castle. The snow falls around them, landing on heads and hats and eyelashes. It almost feels like home, in the dark like this, with Nancy on his arm. She's talking about something, he's not sure, but he nods along because that's what she needs.
"So I told Lucien-" Her foot hits ice and Nancy yanks her arm from Dodger's as she tries to get a hold of herself. Instead, her other foot slips and she's flailing to try to maintain balance. Dropping the lanten, Dodger doesn't think, just grabs her, holds her by her waist as she loses her footing completely.
He's got her, the only thing keeping her upright. She looks up at him, the way the snow falls around them, and smiles, still laughing. There's something about her laugh, about their racing hearts, the red of their cheeks and the winter chill. He shouldn't. He shouldn't.
But she's thinking the same thing, and as the fire from the lantern extinguishes, their lips meet. "C'mon," he mutters, "Let's get you someplace warm."
"You couldn't look stupid if you tried. C'mon, Nance. Let me see."
Nancy pushes back the curtain and steps out of the changing stall. She's wearing what can only be described as a perfectly late 1990s outfit, down to lipgloss and platform flip-flops. Nancy makes a face.
"How can anyone walk in these? It's like having a very light brick attached to your foot." She pulls at her low-rise bell-bottoms. "and god, these trousers are so hard to move in! This is seriously what women in the 2000s wear?"
Spike isn't paying attention to what she's saying, instead enjoying the sight in front of him. She looks great- she always looks great- but he can't but help think she would have excelled in the new millenium.
"What? See? I told you I look terrible!" Spike starts, but plays it off, cool as a cucumber always.
"No- no, sorry, Nance. It's a pity, is all. The look suits you. Sunnydale would be lucky to have you."
The feel of bricks against her back is familiar in the dark alley. The buzz of whiskey coursing through her veins is, too. What's new is the way he holds her, supporting her hips as she wraps both her legs around his. How she wants to climb the wall, grip it tight and leave nail marks in her wake as she feels him thrusting into her.
Her moans are muffled by his lips- another new feeling in this circumstance- and she makes do with grabbing on to him as tight as she can. "God," she manages, before biting on his lower lip.
"Ah- that's it," Gambit responds in that strange accent of his. "Right there-" before he's crushing her lips with his again, unaware that she's already taken his deck of cards from his pocket.
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timeasmymeasure
Nancy/Dodger, for Fern
Date: 2025-12-20 12:21 am (UTC)"So I told Lucien-" Her foot hits ice and Nancy yanks her arm from Dodger's as she tries to get a hold of herself. Instead, her other foot slips and she's flailing to try to maintain balance. Dropping the lanten, Dodger doesn't think, just grabs her, holds her by her waist as she loses her footing completely.
He's got her, the only thing keeping her upright. She looks up at him, the way the snow falls around them, and smiles, still laughing. There's something about her laugh, about their racing hearts, the red of their cheeks and the winter chill. He shouldn't. He shouldn't.
But she's thinking the same thing, and as the fire from the lantern extinguishes, their lips meet. "C'mon," he mutters, "Let's get you someplace warm."
Nancy & Spike, For Lin
Date: 2025-12-20 01:42 am (UTC)"You couldn't look stupid if you tried. C'mon, Nance. Let me see."
Nancy pushes back the curtain and steps out of the changing stall. She's wearing what can only be described as a perfectly late 1990s outfit, down to lipgloss and platform flip-flops. Nancy makes a face.
"How can anyone walk in these? It's like having a very light brick attached to your foot." She pulls at her low-rise bell-bottoms. "and god, these trousers are so hard to move in! This is seriously what women in the 2000s wear?"
Spike isn't paying attention to what she's saying, instead enjoying the sight in front of him. She looks great- she always looks great- but he can't but help think she would have excelled in the new millenium.
"What? See? I told you I look terrible!" Spike starts, but plays it off, cool as a cucumber always.
"No- no, sorry, Nance. It's a pity, is all. The look suits you. Sunnydale would be lucky to have you."
Nancy/Gambit, for Moose
Date: 2025-12-20 01:50 am (UTC)Her moans are muffled by his lips- another new feeling in this circumstance- and she makes do with grabbing on to him as tight as she can. "God," she manages, before biting on his lower lip.
"Ah- that's it," Gambit responds in that strange accent of his. "Right there-" before he's crushing her lips with his again, unaware that she's already taken his deck of cards from his pocket.
That trick? That trick wasn't new, either.