Neat idea
Disclaimer - don't own them. Mr. Whedon does.
Ratings - PG-13 across the board.
crossposted to my LJ.
Spike/Dru, historical
"They’re so beautiful, like sapphires," Dru purred, rolling the orbs between her fingers as she lay on the floor. "I should have taken more."
Spike looked out the window, experiencing a healthy paranoia. "You shouldn’t have taken the ones you did, Pet. It tends to rile up the locals. Peaches was right about that."
Dru pouted at him. "But Spike, they’re so lovely. I should make jewelry of them." She put some of them on her chest like cabochons.
"They’ll just get cloudy and start to stink, pet." Spike sighed.
Dru ignored him, starting deep into her harvested eyes.
Giles (some time after Passion)
Her eyes still haunted him. Giles sometimes wondered why he had never moved after finding her in his bed, her eyes staring into forever. What sort of man would go back to that room, to that house with its memories. Housing was cheap in Sunnydale. He could have gone anywhere.
The bed had been replaced, his only concession to his pain. He’d be damned if Angelus drove him from his home. Still, he wished that Jenny’s eyes wouldn’t peer out of the darkness, questioning, questing. In the dark of night, he would lie there, shuddering.
Connor (between S3-4)
His fathers’ eyes. Could he ever escape them? Four orbs gazing at him, passing judgement. In the hell that was his home, Father’s eyes rarely left him, always gauging his actions, his very thoughts or so it had felt. Holtz’s eyes could see through him, sifting his soul.
Angel’s eyes. The way they caught him when he first dropped through the rip, the power of the love and pride behind them seared Connor. The look in those dark eyes as he sealed the coffin, the fear, the hurt and still the love. It was the last that haunted him the most.

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Date: 2004-07-18 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-18 07:31 pm (UTC)