Laura Stone (stoney321) wrote,
Laura Stone

  • Mood:

It's better for you than Crack, at least give me that much.

Okay, so there was Wee!Spike yesterday, janedavitt had a funny Clan of the Cave Bear ficlet she posted, and now my brain is broken. So, I'm totally happy right now. :-D

Let's re-visit my old series, "Princess Ninety-Nine Wampum (She Always Under a Buck)" with a new Spander-centric chapter: The Tale of Moon Hair and Beaver.

For those who may not know, this is based on the idea that Spike/Angel/Buffy are Native American Indians. My family's heritage is Choctaw, so don't call the PC police on me, mm'kay? This is HUMOROUS. Or, rather, it's supposed to be. Previous bits are linked under the cut. This is rated: Baptist Offensive, but Unitarian Approved. (I'm trying out a new ratings system.)

Princess Ninety-Nine Wampum (She always under a Buck)

Began Here
Part Two Here

The Tale of Moon Hair and Beaver

Moon Hair had tried to pull Arrows with Chief Warrior Stone Head many times. They went on many long hunts for Buffalo and Elk without other Warriors. Stone Head hissed and shoved Moon Hair from his bed of skins. Moon Hair felt like crying. No! He would not cry. Was he not Arrow Maker for his people? Did he not bring down the Buffalo with one blow? If Stone Head would not pull Arrows, or make the burn like he had sat on a prickly pear, then it would be the uncrossed river for Stone Head. Moon Hair rubbed tallow into his moccassins very roughly for many nights.

The Wise Man of the tribe told him to go to the Place of The Clacking, Fighting Tribe and find He Who Re-Built Many Things That Were Broken Over and Over Again. The People of the Clacking, Fighting Tribe now called him Beaver. Moon Hair thought that was a better name. It was decided that Moon Hair would take the special smoke that brought the Spirits closer. He would bring a vest of beads that told their story. He would go to the River of Many Forks and wait for Beaver to come to him. He would learn his place amongst his own people.

Moon Hair set up his camp at the place near to where the Pines whispered, where the River spoke of its travels to him, and where the Bear did not shit. It was: the edge of the wood. After three days of communicating with the Spirit World and smoking the smoke that brought them closer, a boy approached. He did not look like a Warrior, although he appeared to be of the age of Warriors. He looked nervous. Moon Hair wondered who the boy was.

The boy spoke. He spoke in a way that Moon Hair did not understand. But the boy carried a large quiver of arrows. Or maybe it was just one large Arrow, that quivered. Moon Hair knew his strength made many warriors think of Arrows and pulling. He made a face that made Princess Ninety-Nine Wampum smell like bedding. He put his tongue behind his teeth and smiled. The quivering stopped. The loin cloth on the boy could house two Squaw for a night, if they needed it.

"You must be Moon Hair. I get it. The whole white hair thing you have. Don't think I've ever seen an Indian - oh, in my tribe, we call ourselves Indians. Do you have a word for it?"

Moon Hair tilted his head like the Crow when it looks at a shiny bauble in the sand along the river.

"Uh, do you understand me? Tatonka?"

The strange boy was speaking of Buffalo. This was something Moon Hair understood. "Buffalo. I am he that can kill the Buffalo with one arrow. I am Moon Hair. Tell me your name or I will kill you." Moon Hair drew out his tommahawk, but his heart did not swell with the lust of killing. Instead, his Arrow began to swell with-

"Right. I can't imagine there are a lot of guys that can pass for the name 'Moon Hair.' It's a hunch. How about you put down your scary hatchet thingy, and we sit down? I brought you something."

The boy pulled out a package of what smelled like the smoke that brought the Spirits closer. But... different.

"Oh, hey, I forgot. My 'people'," the boy did a strange curling motion with his two fingers on each hand at the word "people" that confused Moon Hair, "grow a special kind of smoke. Gooood smoke. You likey. We smoke the smoke and then we see what the Spirits say for us to do. Okaaay?"

"Why do you speak to me like I am child that sucks on a Squaw's teat?"

The boy giggled. Moon Hair looked at the boy again like the Crow when it looks at something shiny in the sand.

"Sorry. Teat," and he began to giggle again.

"You are very strange for a Warrior. What is your name?"

"I was He Who Re-Built Many Things That Were Broken Over and Over Again. I told them to just start calling me Beaver. You know, because they build stuff?"

"It is a worthy name. Let us smoke the smoke that will-"

"Yeah, I got what you meant when you said 'let's smoke.' And they say I'm verbose?"

Moon Hair was confused by Beaver. He said many words that Moon Hair did not understand. Moon Hair liked that. Moon Hair was a lover of words. He wrote many songs that he sung in his wigwam about Stone Head and what Warriors did with each other when no one was looking. He wondered if he could tell this Beaver of his love of words...

"You know, I never understood the whole 'burn the whole village down' mentality just because they are White Devils. I mean, not everyone there could be bad, right?"

Moon Hair smiled. He was thinking that Beaver may have been struck in the head by a large stone as a young child. On and on Beaver spoke as they passed the pipe to one another. Beaver leaned back, took the pipe from Moon Hair's hand and spoke.

"Hey, Moon Hair. Wanna see a trick?"

"Silly Beaver. Tricks are for those that still suckle at the Squaw's teat."

Beaver started laughing. As he laughed, he fell backwards, legs spread out, knee-high mocassins sprawled in the sand, making it so Moon Hair had a view of-

"Big Spear. I make the spear and arrows our warriors use to hunt."

"Oh? A fellow artisan, cool."

"Cool? I feel very hot. It is many moons until the cool weather comes."

"Never mind."

"I am becoming tired. I will lay down now."

"Yeah, you do that. You know, I'm not trying to say anything, or, you know, but it gets pretty cold here in the mountains by the Village of the Clacking, Fighting Tribe. We have a... custom."

"I would hear of this."

"When two warriors sleep near a fire waiting for the Spirits to talk to us, sometimes those two Warriors, just for, you know, being logical, I'm not trying to say anything, just... Well, my people do not find it strange for two warriors to sleep on the same set of skins. For warmth."

Moon Hair thought these were a wise people, indeed. He did not think it possible for the Great Mother to change his Arrow to a Spear, but it felt like all her power was working to do just that.

"I will share your skin."

"'Cause, you know, it just makes sense, if you think about it. You're over there half naked, your hard, Warrior body just sitting there all naked and vulnerable, creamy and pale in the moonlight, and all I have on is this loin cloth and my moccassins that only go to my knees, and to be honest I think I must have worn my small loin cloth because this one doesn't seem like it's even fitting me anymore, and I'm just trying to say that-"

Moon Hair grabbed Beaver by the back of his head and crushed their mouths together. He told himself he would do it to make the boy stop running his mouth like the Babbling Brook. But when he felt the fullness of Beaver's mouth against his own, and when he felt the boy's tongue slide over his own lip, he realized the Great Mother had turned his Arrow into a Spear. And he wanted to pierce a hide with it.

TBC? OKAY, right here!
Tags: angel, fic, funny fic, parody fic, spike, xander
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded