Birthday ficlet
Happy Birthday bogwitch!! I hope you have a great day and wishing you all the best for a better year.
I know you don’t read me that much but as I’m too poor you’re going to have to put up with fic in honour of your famous predilection! *g*
Title: Mustn’t Miss the Fineprint
Author: lillianmorgan
Setting: sometime post-AHITW AtS Season 5
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don’t own Joss and ME’s toys.
Mustn’t Miss the Fineprint
“See if you can make more sense of this one, Spike.”
“What’s that, Percy?” asked Spike, as he realised Wesley was holding out a mouldy, old tome in his general direction, eyes flat as blue stone, lips thin in dry expectation.
“Illyria’s origins. What we’re researching? Yes? You do remember, surely?” Acid dripped over his words and Spike snatched the book from his extended hand.
“Not like I haven’t had years of experience at that,” Spike muttered, opening the book.
He sat quietly for several moments reading intensely, mouth opening and shutting in determined concentration, absorbing the detail.
In the time that had passed, Wesley estimated about fifteen minutes, give or take a few, he was slightly perturbed by Spike’s recalcitrance. Indeed, the lack of any noise and the rather peculiar and rapt expression that had glued itself to Spike’s face was rather, for want of a better word, odd.
“Anything interesting?” Wesley asked, peering with restrained curiosity toward the book.
“What? No!” informed Spike, snapping it shut and leaping from the table, his chair scraping across the floor with a violent screech.
Wesley blinked at him a few times, before Spike turned, book firmly wedged under his arm and ran from the room. “Where … where are you going now?” Wesley cried after Spike’s retreating form.
“Gotta see a woman about a few tentacles,” cried Spike, over his shoulder as he ran toward the training room, Illyria’s last known whereabouts.
Wesley might have thought to chortle, even just a bit, were it not for the rather disturbing noises that filled the rest of his research time.
Finis
I know you don’t read me that much but as I’m too poor you’re going to have to put up with fic in honour of your famous predilection! *g*
Title: Mustn’t Miss the Fineprint
Author: lillianmorgan
Setting: sometime post-AHITW AtS Season 5
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don’t own Joss and ME’s toys.
Mustn’t Miss the Fineprint
“See if you can make more sense of this one, Spike.”
“What’s that, Percy?” asked Spike, as he realised Wesley was holding out a mouldy, old tome in his general direction, eyes flat as blue stone, lips thin in dry expectation.
“Illyria’s origins. What we’re researching? Yes? You do remember, surely?” Acid dripped over his words and Spike snatched the book from his extended hand.
“Not like I haven’t had years of experience at that,” Spike muttered, opening the book.
He sat quietly for several moments reading intensely, mouth opening and shutting in determined concentration, absorbing the detail.
In the time that had passed, Wesley estimated about fifteen minutes, give or take a few, he was slightly perturbed by Spike’s recalcitrance. Indeed, the lack of any noise and the rather peculiar and rapt expression that had glued itself to Spike’s face was rather, for want of a better word, odd.
“Anything interesting?” Wesley asked, peering with restrained curiosity toward the book.
“What? No!” informed Spike, snapping it shut and leaping from the table, his chair scraping across the floor with a violent screech.
Wesley blinked at him a few times, before Spike turned, book firmly wedged under his arm and ran from the room. “Where … where are you going now?” Wesley cried after Spike’s retreating form.
“Gotta see a woman about a few tentacles,” cried Spike, over his shoulder as he ran toward the training room, Illyria’s last known whereabouts.
Wesley might have thought to chortle, even just a bit, were it not for the rather disturbing noises that filled the rest of his research time.
Finis