A couple of ficlets
*sigh* Didn't get as much done as I wanted...
Title: Everyone Loves A Parade
Author: Laure Alexander
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Warnings: Mayhem, princess death
Disclaimer: Nothing about BtVS belongs to me; it's all Joss; I'm just playing with his characters and making them do naughty things.
Distribution: Please ask first. Will be at my site Meandering Muse
Word Count: 260
Summary: Set after Season 7, Buffy and Spike are in Pasadena for the new year.
Buffy's sneeze alerted Spike to her return and he swivelled from the television and tried not to laugh.
She was covered in pollen, leaves, flower petals and gnome guts.
And she was scowling. "Do. Not. Laugh."
"Saw you on the telly, luv. I could have told you that only gnomes, maybe elves, would spend weeks pasting flower petals to chickenwire and styrofoam."
"I just wanted to do something normal," she whined as she stripped off her clothes, sending up wafts of pollen.
"Right. Sitting outside all night waiting for a parade of flower people."
"It's a very old tradition." She shook her head and petals flew.
Spike chuckled and turned off the television where the Rose Parade was a disaster of ruined floats, stampeding horses, and dead gnomes. "You could have left them alone, y'know."
"They ate one of the princesses!" Naked, she wrapped herself in a robe and plopped down next to him on the couch in their hotel room.
"It was just a princess," he scoffed, still grinning. "Dime a dozen."
"You could say that about Slayers," she complained as she reached for a Danish from the assortment of pastries on the coffee table and stuffed half of it in her mouth.
"Them, yeah, but you're still one in a million."
Done with her Danish, Buffy finally smiled, relaxed and slid onto his lap. "They use a lot of spices on those floats. Want to lick me clean?"
Grinning back, Spike tumbled her on her back and, as she squealed and giggled, he began to do just that.
End
Title: New Year's Revelry
Author: Laure Alexander
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Spike/Drusilla
Warnings: Not much.
Disclaimer: Nothing about BtVS belongs to me; it's all Joss; I'm just playing with his characters and making them do naughty things.
Distribution: Please ask first. Will be at my site Meandering Muse.
Word Count: 303
Summary: Set pre series, Spike and Drusilla hit Times Square to watch the ball drop.
Spike watched her with eyes full of adoration. Drusilla stood in the heart of Times Square, surrounded by revelers. It was 1982 and the world was so bright. Abundance was everywhere and everyone was glittering with jewels and shiny clothes. Dressed in his traditional black, he held back from the madness, keeping her within sight and watching her dancing with strangers, laughing and drinking champagne. They had fed and she understood the consequences of feeding in a crowd.
So, he let her enjoy herself.
And she was so very beautiful as she swayed, dreamy eyes drifting over her fellow celebrants, her bright red satin dress clinging to her slender curves. She was happy, so he was happy.
Loud British pop music blared from speakers--it was yet another British invasion; they did come around every decade or so--and Dick Clark was waiting in the wings of the stage with the tower and the glitter ball.
At a few minutes to midnight, Spike pushed off from the wall he leaned against and slipped easily through the crowd. He reached her as the ball began to drop and the chanting started. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he heard her dulcet voice counting down and placed a kiss beneath her ear.
"Happy New Year," he cried along with everyone else, and spun her, kissing her hungrily. "Happy New Year, Dru."
"And it will be, my beloved William," she cooed, cupping his cheeks. "Shall we go find dessert? Something tainted with cocaine?"
"Easily found," he snorted as he swung her through the crowd of dancing, shrieking, kissing New Yorkers. In 1982, coke heads were everywhere."
Wasn't much different than a hundred years past and opium addicts.
The world changed but some things always stayed the same. Drugged out humans made for easily obtained dessert.
End
Title: Everyone Loves A Parade
Author: Laure Alexander
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Warnings: Mayhem, princess death
Disclaimer: Nothing about BtVS belongs to me; it's all Joss; I'm just playing with his characters and making them do naughty things.
Distribution: Please ask first. Will be at my site Meandering Muse
Word Count: 260
Summary: Set after Season 7, Buffy and Spike are in Pasadena for the new year.
Buffy's sneeze alerted Spike to her return and he swivelled from the television and tried not to laugh.
She was covered in pollen, leaves, flower petals and gnome guts.
And she was scowling. "Do. Not. Laugh."
"Saw you on the telly, luv. I could have told you that only gnomes, maybe elves, would spend weeks pasting flower petals to chickenwire and styrofoam."
"I just wanted to do something normal," she whined as she stripped off her clothes, sending up wafts of pollen.
"Right. Sitting outside all night waiting for a parade of flower people."
"It's a very old tradition." She shook her head and petals flew.
Spike chuckled and turned off the television where the Rose Parade was a disaster of ruined floats, stampeding horses, and dead gnomes. "You could have left them alone, y'know."
"They ate one of the princesses!" Naked, she wrapped herself in a robe and plopped down next to him on the couch in their hotel room.
"It was just a princess," he scoffed, still grinning. "Dime a dozen."
"You could say that about Slayers," she complained as she reached for a Danish from the assortment of pastries on the coffee table and stuffed half of it in her mouth.
"Them, yeah, but you're still one in a million."
Done with her Danish, Buffy finally smiled, relaxed and slid onto his lap. "They use a lot of spices on those floats. Want to lick me clean?"
Grinning back, Spike tumbled her on her back and, as she squealed and giggled, he began to do just that.
End
Title: New Year's Revelry
Author: Laure Alexander
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Spike/Drusilla
Warnings: Not much.
Disclaimer: Nothing about BtVS belongs to me; it's all Joss; I'm just playing with his characters and making them do naughty things.
Distribution: Please ask first. Will be at my site Meandering Muse.
Word Count: 303
Summary: Set pre series, Spike and Drusilla hit Times Square to watch the ball drop.
Spike watched her with eyes full of adoration. Drusilla stood in the heart of Times Square, surrounded by revelers. It was 1982 and the world was so bright. Abundance was everywhere and everyone was glittering with jewels and shiny clothes. Dressed in his traditional black, he held back from the madness, keeping her within sight and watching her dancing with strangers, laughing and drinking champagne. They had fed and she understood the consequences of feeding in a crowd.
So, he let her enjoy herself.
And she was so very beautiful as she swayed, dreamy eyes drifting over her fellow celebrants, her bright red satin dress clinging to her slender curves. She was happy, so he was happy.
Loud British pop music blared from speakers--it was yet another British invasion; they did come around every decade or so--and Dick Clark was waiting in the wings of the stage with the tower and the glitter ball.
At a few minutes to midnight, Spike pushed off from the wall he leaned against and slipped easily through the crowd. He reached her as the ball began to drop and the chanting started. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he heard her dulcet voice counting down and placed a kiss beneath her ear.
"Happy New Year," he cried along with everyone else, and spun her, kissing her hungrily. "Happy New Year, Dru."
"And it will be, my beloved William," she cooed, cupping his cheeks. "Shall we go find dessert? Something tainted with cocaine?"
"Easily found," he snorted as he swung her through the crowd of dancing, shrieking, kissing New Yorkers. In 1982, coke heads were everywhere."
Wasn't much different than a hundred years past and opium addicts.
The world changed but some things always stayed the same. Drugged out humans made for easily obtained dessert.
End