Nico (vilakins) wrote,
Nico
vilakins

Ficlet: Gauntlets Down

I seem not to have cross-posted my b7friday fiction here for a while, so here's one.

For the pick three challenge; 500 words set in season 2.

Gauntlets Down

Avon moved warily, his eyes darting from side to side. He halted outside the door and soundlessly unlocked it, then flattened himself against the wall as he gently pushed it open.

Nothing happened.

He slid inside, looking around with narrowed eyes. Everything looked normal. He relaxed slightly and closed the door. Immediately, a pair of studded gauntlets fell in front of his face and swung there, suspended from the ceiling by a piece of rope. Avon jumped involuntarily and swatted them away; a bad move as they swung back into his face, batting him softly. He gritted his teeth and moved away from them, then frowned and looked back. One of them held a piece of paper between its empty thumb and forefinger. He removed it carefully and read it.

UNDER THE BED

He sighed and approached the bed in a sideways crab-like motion, alert for traps, then bent over. There was a red container there: Vila's 'box of tricks' as Blake called it. Avon pulled it out and put it on his table, then walked around it, examining it from all sides. It looked innocent. He opened it slowly with one hand, shielding his eyes with the other just in case. What was that? Crystals? He tentatively touched the stuff. Ice.

Ice?

He went and pulled the gauntlets down, put them on, and dug under the ice. Yes, there was something there. He excavated the object and lifted it out onto the table. A squat cylindrical container. He prised the lid off and peered in.

Ice cream, and chocolate by the looks of it. Where on Earth--or more accurately off it--had Vila acquired it? He pulled his gauntlets off and picked up the spoon that lay on top. He was about to dig it in when he stopped and sighed. He knew he was going to regret this. "All right, Vila. I know you're in here. You might as well get a spoon and join me."

The closet door opened and Vila emerged, a bottle and glass in his hands. "Nah. There's only one for a reason. I know how much you like the stuff. I'll just have this. Happy birthday, mate." He opened the bottle and poured himself a glass of adrenaline and soma.

Avon needed no further encouragement. He dug the spoon in and it was only after the seventh one that he stopped to consider Vila sitting opposite him with a happy smile on his face. What the hell did he get out of this?

Vila lifted his glass to Avon and knocked it back. He didn't mind not getting any ice cream. Hard to lay your hands on good stuff, but it was too cold for him; he preferred something that warmed you on the way down. And anyway, seeing that affectionate look in Avon's eyes, and the almost-smile, that was good enough for him. It mightn't seem much to anyone else, but he know what a victory it was, melting the ice.

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