She hated the smell of cigars. No matter the size or origin, the smoke seemed to get into everything.

Two could smell smoke in the room for days afterwards. In the fabric of a chair, the drapes when a breeze caught them. She felt as though she needed to bathe after she’d been where someone was smoking a cigar.

There was something … hot about Three with a cigar. She only let him smoke outside, and down wind from her, and she made him shower before he got into bed, but it made her want to join him in there.

When Steve walks into the house, he barely gets a chance to say hello before Noelani is in his arms. Her hands slide around his waist, fisting in his shirt and she knows he’s changed since this morning but the acrid scent of smoke still clings to him. It makes her choke, makes her eyes water.

It makes her hold him tighter.

“Hey.” His voice is as gentle as his hand on her cheek, lifting her face to him. “I’m okay.”

She nods but she can’t make herself speak. It had been too close today.

Maybe he knows that because his fingers linger on her cheek as he kisses her. “C’mon,” he says after a long moment. “I need a shower... you can wash my back.”

He’s teasing and, wonder of wonders, a smile turns up her lips. “Just this once,” she tells him but she’s not kidding, can still see him running back into that burning building like some noble, stupid hero, knows she’ll see it every time she closes her eyes tonight. “I mean it, Steve,” she says, voice fierce even to her own ears. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

He squeezes her hand. “I promise.”

*grins*

She probably will once the shock wears off... possible sequel?!

Thomas helped himself to one of Robin's Cuban cigars much to Higgins' consternation. He lit it and took a deep drag off of it.

He held the smoke in his chest savoring the flavor of the hand rolled cigar.

"Really, Magnum," Higgins quietly remarked. "What have you done now to think you deserve one of Mister Masters' cigars?"

"Solved the case I was working on, stayed out of jail and didn't wreck the Ferrai," Thomas answered between drags on said cigar.

"Astonding," Higgins quipped sarcastically. "Next, you are going to claim that the moon is made of Swiss Cheese."

"Ha, ha, Higgins," Thomas muttered as he finished his cigar. "Very funny. Don't quit your day job."

"Go away, Magnum."

Thomas crushed out the cigar and flicked the butt into the fireplace. "Later, Higgins," he said and turned his steps toward the guest house and a night of television re-runs.

Higgins sighed. He fished the ciger butt out of the fireplace and threw it in the trash before returning to his memoirs.

Edited at 2020-09-05 07:08 pm (UTC)

Thanks.

Kelly scrubbed his fingers through his hair, massaging the shampoo into his very soul. Some nights, it only took two washings to get the scent of smoke out of his skin. And there were nights like tonight when he didn’t think he’d ever get the stench of his job off of him. He hated this part of the job, the aftermath, the memories. But it was the price he paid to do the right thing, to save people, make the world a little safer in the end. Sighing, he squirted more shampoo into his hand and contemplated shaving himself bald.

Made an icon of Smokey the Bear and his cubs

I walked into Saratoga Lanes after a thirty year absence. There was something not quite right about it, not just the fact that many of the regulars were gone, either dead or moved on. The ball rumbled down the lane same as it ever did and the clatter of pins bouncing against the wooden floor provided a welcome finish.

It took a second and then I realized what it was- the clouds of cigarette smoke that had filled the bowling alley during my youth had vanished.

I shrugged. I was here to bowl. At least the beer was still cold.

Invitation, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Spike/Buffy Summers), PG-13, 100 words
Read on LJ or AO3