Page 118 of Them Bones

He looked at her thoughtfully. “A promise ring,” he said.

I can live with that,she thought, and his lips quirked into a smile.

“Well, alright then,” he said, dropping her hand and reaching into his pocket.

“You HAVE ONE?!” she squealed, her voice pealing with delight, her skin tingling with excitement. She sat up, kneeling on the blanket, her body bouncing with nervous energy.

Shane laughed and rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, his grey eyes twinkling as he pulled out a small, navy blue velvet box. Her heart stopped as he opened it with a squeak. Nestled inside was a silver claddagh ring, the heart made from a shiny, bright green stone.

“Like Angel gave Buffy…” she breathed, beyond enchanted. He laughed sweetly, his lips in her hair, and pulled it out of the box, sliding it on her finger. “It’s beautiful…” she murmured.

“It’s a bloodstone,” he said, holding her hand up, the stone seeming to catch the starlight. “It’s a symbol of bravery. For warriors, going into battle…”

“Are you expecting our marriage to be battle-like?” she asked, cocking her head.

“Yes,” he said, simply.

She threw back her head and laughed, tossing her arms around his neck and kissing him, pushing him down to the ground and fumbling with his belt as he raised his hips so she could shove his pants out of the way. He produced a condom out of the same pocket as her ring had been in.

He kissed her ring finger over and over as she rode him until they were both trembling, exhausted, spent.

The third season ofBuffywas almost through, Angel having been resurrected from the dead and the two of them happily existing as a couple, again.

Buffy never saw what was coming.

MILDRA

Mildra didn’t like the country. Technically, this was the outskirts of the suburbs, the farthest reaches of urban sprawl, but there were too many trees. Too many bugs.

She traipsed up the driveway of the scrapyard, irritable as always. Nancy was standing on the porch in a tan linen tunic and Birkenstocks beside a heavily bearded man smoking a cigar.

“This had better be good,” she sniped at Nancy, who greeted her with a hug, unphased by Mildra’s sour mood.

“Nice to see you again,” the man grunted, puffing on his cigar. She fake-coughed and fanned the smoke away. He smirked at her.

“I want to show you what Dusty’s been working on all summer,” Nancy said in her sing-song voice. “Henry asked us to keep him informed on Dustin’s next project, after all…”

This was news to Mildra, but she didn’t let it show. Normally, Mr. Bard communicated with all his artists though her. It irked her that he’d been in touch with Dustin, or Nancy, or both, and she felt prickly and territorial as Jerry disappeared into the house.

Nancy smiled sweetly and put her hand on Mildra’s arm. “I’d never go around you, Milly,” she said, giving her a littlesqueeze. “Henry would be lost without you, we both know it. That’s why I called.”

Mildra made aharumph-ing noise but relaxed a little. Nancy really was the nicest person on the planet. It made her feel like sandpaper, rubbing up against everyone she’d ever met. Mildra couldn’t imagine being sosoft.

“Well let’s get on with it, then,” she said grumpily.

“I need shoes,” Nancy sang, but Jerry reappeared holding some rolled-up socks and a pair of steel-toed work boots. “Oh, thank you Jerry!” she said, kissing him on the cheek. He blushed a little, but it was a sweet gesture, like a mother kissing a babe. As Nancy ignored the socks and pulled the boots onto her bare feet, her fine golden leg-hair shining in the sun, Mildra wondered – not for the first time – whether Nancy was gay. Many, many men had shown interest in her over the years, captivated by her genuinegoodnessand pliable body. But Nancy had never looked twice at anyone, not even Mr. Bard who – though he was at least two decades Nancy’s senior – was a striking man, often called asilver foxby her colleagues, whatever that meant.

Mildra followed Nancy and Jerry around the back of the house, down a dirt pathway that led to a large, two-story high corrugated metal shop.

“After you,” Jerry said, pushing open the door.

She stepped inside and felt like she’d just struck gold.

“Oh my Lord…” she breathed, taking it in.

It could have been its own exhibition, exactly as it was. Suspended from the ceiling were three dragons assembled entirely out of mixed metals. Dustin had clearly worked primarily with copper on one of them, either choosing oxidized pieces of scrap or oxidizing it on purpose, creating the illusion of shiny green scales all over its body. The second was all black, a much larger and strangely mechanical looking beastbuilt of black iron, curling around the green dragon protectively, staring down at them like it was daring them to reach up and touch her. The third was made of brass, maybe metal golds, an outrageously stunning creature though it was strangely snake-like, long and narrow with a tail like a whip. Its mouth was open in a scream, and it looked like it was falling from the sky, a large hole in its chest. She squinted, looking more closely at the display, and saw that gripped in the black beast’s talons was a shining golden mass…

The golden dragon’s heart.

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