Ficlets

“Tardis. Doctor Who. Bigger on the inside than the outside. Ring any bells?”

“Nope,” Blake replied. “But this is all inconsequential, isn’t it? We’ve got some huntin’ to do.”

Simon nodded in agreement. “So what’s the plan?”

“We find her and banish her,” said Blake.

“And… what if she’s ‘feasted’ a frakkin lot by then?” Simon asked. “She could be a gorram supernatural tank by the time we find her.”

“Yup,” Blake agreed. “Nothin’ I got will stop her if she gets there…”

“I might know a few tricks, spells, that might work on her still,” Simon added.

“Really?” Blake asked, his disbelief obvious.

“Don’t sound so frakkin condescending,” Simon demanded. “I summoned the stupid bitch, you’d think I’d know a bit, wouldn’t you?”

“Fair enough. If my bag of tricks and your bag don’t cut it, we’ve always got the Hell’s Angels to fall back on.”

“I told you before,” Simon replied, “we’re not dialing up the gorram Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!”

“Right, kid,” Blake coughed. “Just you and me then.”