closer to the sun

[harborshore]

Tonight I went for a walk with dad, about an hour before the sunset. People were playing soccer and volleyball on the field near where we live, and the all-girl team was winning the volleyball game (much like it seems the only serious contenders in the Way-family croquet match was Alicia and Lyn-Z).

We crossed the road and sat down on the cliff, watching as the light settled over the grass and the skyline. Like being in a city and not, at once.

Then we saw hot-air balloons. Four of them, to be exact. They were coming closer, hovering over the trees, and it was beautiful, absolutely stunning. But what was initially looking like a gorgeous sunset, complete with balloons (like a movie), turned into a comedy of errors pretty soon, with some pretty scary moments.



See, the first balloon meant to go down right in front of us. Only at the last second, there was a gust of wind and it lifted again, almost ending up in the middle of the road. However, the driver managed to get it airborne again, so that it reached the field on the other side of the road, where it bounce-bounce-bounced three times before landing on its side.

The second balloon almost ran into the only building in this field, but somehow swerved and executed a fairly smooth landing, swaying with the wind before the people (and the air) were let out.

The fourth balloon was the impressive one. It was the furthest away, and we saw it start going down where we know there are no fields large enough to comfortably land on. We gulped a little, but it started rising again after being completely out of sight beyond the trees. There was barely any wind at this point, so it stood practically still in the air for about ten minutes before it started coming closer to our field. It came down fast, then, but slowed enough just before touching down that the balloon barely swayed at all. Incredibly graceful, somehow, and a fantastic thing to get to see.

On the way back, we ended up right below a kestrel, hovering in the air, preparing for a dive. Dad said he felt like it was about to dive at us, and I agreed, but we still didn't move.



Now, I'm waiting for the joint aches to subside (modern medicine is sometimes marvelous) and looking at the dark outside. We can't see the stars, yet, but the closer we get to winter, the clearer they'll become.

I'd steal the death match meme, except I'm feeling sweet and cozy tonight. I'd rather talk about cuddling.

If you feel like it, give me two characters, bandom (MCR or MSI), DCU (Birds of Prey, the Bats (especially the ladies)), and Buffy, and I'll tell you about them cuddling. Wacky crossovers are totally okay, though please don't give me Bob and Batman.

Comments

[softlyforgotten.livejournal.com]

We can't see the stars, yet, but the closer we get to winter, the clearer they'll become
♥ Ah, I love the way you phrase things.

Tell me about Spike and Frank! :D (And uh, I'm only just finished the fifth season of Buffy, so please no spoilers? *g*)

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

♥, you, even if your wacky crossovers are fiendish.

Well, then. For the purposes of this snippet, Oz's cousin was not named Jody and was not five years old. Also, I have paid no attention whatsoever to timelines. And technically there's no cuddling. *hands*


Frank tilts his head and looks at the Brit sitting next to him at the bar. "You're really fucking drunk. Like, really. Also, your hair looks like--you look like my lead singer does, actually."

The Brit (vampire, Frank's nose reminds him), lifts his head from the bar desk and looks at him blearily. "Obviously I'm pissed. Or there'd be something wrong with all this bloody alcohol I drank. And my hair is bleached because--nah, you wouldn't know anything about real punk. Wanker." He puts his head back down on the bar desk.

Frank blisters. "I wouldn't--" but then he takes a deep breath. No getting angry, right. (Oz's exercises are so difficult; Frank hardly ever makes them work.) "You're Spike, right? I'm supposed to take you home."

Or so Buffy had said. Frank's not too sure about why they need this guy, but whatever. He's stranded in Sunnydale until Brian can get him out of here; he'll help out the local do-gooders while he's waiting. Which apparently means he'll go to the local demon's bar and pick up drunk vampires. His life, seriously. The fact that Gerard'll be jealous as hell is small comfort.

Spike looks a little more attentive. "I'm not--not going home with you. Don't sleep with men."

Frank snorts. "But you should get home before sunrise, right?"

"Sun," Spike says, and would have fallen off his stool if Frank hadn't caught him. "Sun, I don't like sun."

"Burns, right?" Frank says, staggering under the weight of drunk vampire suddenly standing upright. Or trying to.

"Yes, burns." Spike says solemnly, and then slumps against Frank's shoulder.

"Motherfucking fucking fuck," Frank says, steadies himself, and pokes at Spike. "Let's go. You have a bed somewhere, I know it."

Spike nods.

Frank stops, swears again, and continues, "If you don't get your mouth away from my neck, I'm going to damn well leave you in the street."

"Don't have to be nasty about it," Spike mutters, slurring his syllables.

"Come on," Frank says, and they get going, Spike clinging to him to stay upright, and Frank vowing to lift some weights. Or something. He realizes he's out of practice at this, lugging around falling-down drunk people, and he's suddenly fiercely glad, even though his shoulders hurt and his knee is protesting.

There's two weeks until full moon, but he kind of feels like howling and running until he falls over. He'll take it out on stage (take it out on Gerard), but for now he settles for smiling and humming. Don't go around tonight...there's a bad moon on the rise.

[blindmouse.livejournal.com]

He realizes he's out of practice at this, lugging around falling-down drunk people, and he's suddenly fiercely glad, even though his shoulders hurt and his knee is protesting.

Oh man ♥

What, no, I have no intelligent commentary.

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

♥, sweetheart. That's definitely my favorite sentence out of the whole thing, too.

[softlyforgotten.livejournal.com]

I only ask because I know you can pull it off brilliantly! *g* And oh man oh man, dude, this is so brilliant. FIGHTING OVER WHO IS MORE PUNK ROCK. And that last line! ♥

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

Ahahaha, I don't know if it's brilliance so much as banter. Which admittedly works with those two. The hilarious thing about them is that they both desperately want to be badass and sometimes manage to pull it off (Spike does so a little more often than Frank), but often they just come off as sort of adorable. Very punk, that. (I had so much fun with this. I have a not-so-secret love of weird random crossovers.)

[turlough]

*flails happily* I LOVE crossovers and especially crossovers with Buffy and this contains Spike too, so awesome! And it was totally adorable - drunk!Spike and longsuffering!Frank - with a tiny bit of seriousness too, wonderful!

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

I adore wacky random crossovers and am saddened by how rare they are, so I love getting the chance to write them. Even if the prompt made me go OH GOD and wail for a bit, because, seriously, a wee bit difficult. But then I had fun. *grins*

Also, thank you so much for all your lovely comments--they made my day yesterday, it was really really nice. ♥ And this one is secretly my favorite, well, this one and the Pete/Mikey, so it's extra-specially fun to see that other people liked it.

[athenejen]

I love this madly!

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

*grins* Thank you! It turned out a lot more fun than my initial despair at seeing the prompt would have indicated.