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Title: Vintage
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Spike, Clem
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Word count: 200 (Google Docs)
Spoilers/Setting: Set in S6, after ep. 6x12 “Doublemeat Palace”
Summary: Spike wants to sell his car
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created for fun and no profit has been made. All rights belong to the respective owners.
Challenges [Amnesty Week]: #40 Sponge | #55 Filth | #109 Dent | #111 Wreck
Crossposted:
drabble_zone, My journal, Sunnydale After Dark
—
The Lounge Room was already crawling with its usual patrons and lowlives when Spike walked in and went to sit at the counter. “Dave? The usual,” he said, waving at the bartender.
“You’re late, Spike,” commented Clem, sitting beside him. “Our weekly poker game is over.”
“Had to meet this bloke, I’m looking to sell my car,” Spike mumbled. “He said, I quote, ‘this piece of old junk is totally worthless’ and offered me ten bucks for it.”
“That’s generous,” said Clem, chuckling. “No offense, Spike, but your car is a total wreck. It’s a wonder it hasn’t fallen apart.”
“Hey! It’s not a wreck, it’s vintage,” Spike said, offended by Clem’s dig at his DeSoto. “Sure, it’s got a couple of dents here and there, but nothing major.”
Clem shook his head. “It’s a garbage pail on wheels. You can barely see the car mats!”
“Perhaps I’ve neglected cleaning it lately.”
“Spike, it’s filthy.”
He growled. “It’s nothing that a sponge and a couple hours of hard work can’t fix!”
“Look, my cousin needs a car. I’ll put in a good word if you clean it.”
“You’re a good friend, Clem. You free tomorrow? I might need a hand.”
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Spike, Clem
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Word count: 200 (Google Docs)
Spoilers/Setting: Set in S6, after ep. 6x12 “Doublemeat Palace”
Summary: Spike wants to sell his car
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created for fun and no profit has been made. All rights belong to the respective owners.
Challenges [Amnesty Week]: #40 Sponge | #55 Filth | #109 Dent | #111 Wreck
Crossposted:
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
—
The Lounge Room was already crawling with its usual patrons and lowlives when Spike walked in and went to sit at the counter. “Dave? The usual,” he said, waving at the bartender.
“You’re late, Spike,” commented Clem, sitting beside him. “Our weekly poker game is over.”
“Had to meet this bloke, I’m looking to sell my car,” Spike mumbled. “He said, I quote, ‘this piece of old junk is totally worthless’ and offered me ten bucks for it.”
“That’s generous,” said Clem, chuckling. “No offense, Spike, but your car is a total wreck. It’s a wonder it hasn’t fallen apart.”
“Hey! It’s not a wreck, it’s vintage,” Spike said, offended by Clem’s dig at his DeSoto. “Sure, it’s got a couple of dents here and there, but nothing major.”
Clem shook his head. “It’s a garbage pail on wheels. You can barely see the car mats!”
“Perhaps I’ve neglected cleaning it lately.”
“Spike, it’s filthy.”
He growled. “It’s nothing that a sponge and a couple hours of hard work can’t fix!”
“Look, my cousin needs a car. I’ll put in a good word if you clean it.”
“You’re a good friend, Clem. You free tomorrow? I might need a hand.”