Interesting prompt.
Set in Courting Sin 'verse
alt BtVS2
"Mice in the house." Drusilla whispered, lifting her face to catch a scent. As if the abrupt pounding in their bones didn't thud through her as insistently as it did Spike, didn't reveal the intruder's identity.
"Must be Tuesday," he snarled, gripping the edge of his wheelchair. He heard her steps. Her breath. Her voice calling for an angelic lover….
Instinct screamed to jump out, challenge, kill and drink the Slayer's blood.
Reason counseled patience. Angelus and Buffy would destroy each other; if only to cure whatever madness the Hellmouth had tricked them into.
Spike could be a patient man.
alt BtVS3. (language warning)
Her nails at his shoulder, her weight on his belly. The sign of his first capitulation leaving her lips again and again and again. Stubborn bitch. Couldn't even let him burn in peace.
"Angelus."
Three hissed syllables. Her voice calling his real name would summon him from Hades itself.
"No time for the dying, honey. Can't afford the unscheduled stop in hell," she informed him, a wicked smile on her lips as she made a show of lifting her top off. Her eyes were wild. Dangerous. Vulnerable. "Now, remember to thank the nice unconscious Watchers for finding the cure, okay?"
alt BtVS4/AtS1
"Anne!"
Buffy smiled. "Ri." It'd been weeks since she'd seen him, so the flirty smile caught her by surprise. So did his invitation for dinner. What fleeting attraction there'd been at their meeting had developed into casual friendship and a passable fighter at her back during Initiative-approved hunts. "What would your girlfriend say?"
The easy grin disappeared. "That I have good taste." He shrugged. "And to ask if you'd like to join us? She's… wild."
"Ouch."
"So. Dinner?"
"Sorry." But she tossed a stake at him and winked. "But I know a better cure for brokenheartedness than a rebound date."
alt BtVS5/AtS2
"It's stupid," Cordelia growled at the stuck drawer.
Buffy looked up from her magazine. "Maybe if you didn't cram it with files."
"Not this." She stuck her arm in, face scrunched as she searched the insides of the cabinet. "The Darla business." Her face alighted, and she triumphantly showed her the paperclip that'd been jamming the rail. "What's the good of being evil's girlfriend if you won't kill the jealous homicidal ex?"
"She's human, Cordy."
"Excuses again," Cordelia huffed. "Maybe she'll run into a vamp and get that humanity thing cured." Cordelia petted the closed cabinet. "Now that'd be nifty."
alt BtVS6/AtS3
Spelled bonds. Buffy didn't need to tug at them to recognize the slow hum against her wrists. Usually, that hum was accompanied by Angel's touch. Today, instead, she faced three hesitant guys, and only one she recognized. "Jonathan?"
Jonathan threw his shoulders back and gave his collaborators a proud grin. He'd preened as much that time she'd asked for his Lit notes because Xander and Willow spent an extra hour in the boiler room.
"Don't worry, Buffy." He smiled reassuringly. "We'll cure you of that vampire's thrall."
Buffy groaned.
Hopefully, she'd have this craziness defused before Angel came for her.
alt BtVS7/AtS4
Riley had come armed to his teeth, and while he'd stepped through the mansion doors first, he'd then retreated to the rear. Making sure their little commission wouldn't be betrayed and surrounded, Buffy realized.
Xander also carried several weapons, handled them with more confidence than one Halloween night of military education would allow. Willow had chosen the subtler route; but Buffy knew that the many pouches around her belt weren't only protection charms.
"They look surprised to see me," Angel laughed from behind her.
"Do they?" Buffy allowed his embrace. "You'd think five years would've been enough to cure disbelief."
alt AtS5
Doyle leaned against his ex fiancée's desk, reaching into his pocket with one hand while the other paged through Buffy's schedule. Cordelia rapped his curious hand; but didn't bother to lower her book. "Ancient Runes In Today's Fashion," he read aloud, trapping his gift between two fingers. "You should stop reading that."
Her eyebrow snapped up.
Before she could start a tirade, he held the tickets up. "Because you like The Cure better, sweetheart. In London."
"Are there backstage passes?"
"After our Pylean fairy godmother made the call?" Doyle grinned. "Cor, they'll let you into their showers if you ask."
alt BtVS2
"Mice in the house." Drusilla whispered, lifting her face to catch a scent. As if the abrupt pounding in their bones didn't thud through her as insistently as it did Spike, didn't reveal the intruder's identity.
"Must be Tuesday," he snarled, gripping the edge of his wheelchair. He heard her steps. Her breath. Her voice calling for an angelic lover….
Instinct screamed to jump out, challenge, kill and drink the Slayer's blood.
Reason counseled patience. Angelus and Buffy would destroy each other; if only to cure whatever madness the Hellmouth had tricked them into.
Spike could be a patient man.
alt BtVS3. (language warning)
Her nails at his shoulder, her weight on his belly. The sign of his first capitulation leaving her lips again and again and again. Stubborn bitch. Couldn't even let him burn in peace.
"Angelus."
Three hissed syllables. Her voice calling his real name would summon him from Hades itself.
"No time for the dying, honey. Can't afford the unscheduled stop in hell," she informed him, a wicked smile on her lips as she made a show of lifting her top off. Her eyes were wild. Dangerous. Vulnerable. "Now, remember to thank the nice unconscious Watchers for finding the cure, okay?"
alt BtVS4/AtS1
"Anne!"
Buffy smiled. "Ri." It'd been weeks since she'd seen him, so the flirty smile caught her by surprise. So did his invitation for dinner. What fleeting attraction there'd been at their meeting had developed into casual friendship and a passable fighter at her back during Initiative-approved hunts. "What would your girlfriend say?"
The easy grin disappeared. "That I have good taste." He shrugged. "And to ask if you'd like to join us? She's… wild."
"Ouch."
"So. Dinner?"
"Sorry." But she tossed a stake at him and winked. "But I know a better cure for brokenheartedness than a rebound date."
alt BtVS5/AtS2
"It's stupid," Cordelia growled at the stuck drawer.
Buffy looked up from her magazine. "Maybe if you didn't cram it with files."
"Not this." She stuck her arm in, face scrunched as she searched the insides of the cabinet. "The Darla business." Her face alighted, and she triumphantly showed her the paperclip that'd been jamming the rail. "What's the good of being evil's girlfriend if you won't kill the jealous homicidal ex?"
"She's human, Cordy."
"Excuses again," Cordelia huffed. "Maybe she'll run into a vamp and get that humanity thing cured." Cordelia petted the closed cabinet. "Now that'd be nifty."
alt BtVS6/AtS3
Spelled bonds. Buffy didn't need to tug at them to recognize the slow hum against her wrists. Usually, that hum was accompanied by Angel's touch. Today, instead, she faced three hesitant guys, and only one she recognized. "Jonathan?"
Jonathan threw his shoulders back and gave his collaborators a proud grin. He'd preened as much that time she'd asked for his Lit notes because Xander and Willow spent an extra hour in the boiler room.
"Don't worry, Buffy." He smiled reassuringly. "We'll cure you of that vampire's thrall."
Buffy groaned.
Hopefully, she'd have this craziness defused before Angel came for her.
alt BtVS7/AtS4
Riley had come armed to his teeth, and while he'd stepped through the mansion doors first, he'd then retreated to the rear. Making sure their little commission wouldn't be betrayed and surrounded, Buffy realized.
Xander also carried several weapons, handled them with more confidence than one Halloween night of military education would allow. Willow had chosen the subtler route; but Buffy knew that the many pouches around her belt weren't only protection charms.
"They look surprised to see me," Angel laughed from behind her.
"Do they?" Buffy allowed his embrace. "You'd think five years would've been enough to cure disbelief."
alt AtS5
Doyle leaned against his ex fiancée's desk, reaching into his pocket with one hand while the other paged through Buffy's schedule. Cordelia rapped his curious hand; but didn't bother to lower her book. "Ancient Runes In Today's Fashion," he read aloud, trapping his gift between two fingers. "You should stop reading that."
Her eyebrow snapped up.
Before she could start a tirade, he held the tickets up. "Because you like The Cure better, sweetheart. In London."
"Are there backstage passes?"
"After our Pylean fairy godmother made the call?" Doyle grinned. "Cor, they'll let you into their showers if you ask."