(no subject)
Giles had awoken wanting nothing more then a fag... and maybe a pint... Possibly both. Sadly, there were neither to be found and he'd had to improvise. A joint wasn't the same, but it was good none the less, and it dangled between his lips unlit.
He'd also changed into something much more him (what had he been thinking wearing tweed?), now sporting tight blue jeans and a ripped white shirt as he wandered around the rec room, flipping through the cans of film rather then the books, but nothing caught his eye and he sneered a little. "Lot of good you are," he told the shelf, turning to leave the room.
Before Giles could make it through the door though, the jukebox kicked in.
The tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.
Her name is Aphrodite and she rides a crimson shell,
And you know you cannot leave her for you touched the distant sands
With tales of brave Ulysses, how his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing.
"That's much more like it," he said, snapping his fingers and pointing at the jukebox before lighting his joint and racking the balls on the pool table for a game. He was having the weirdest deja-vu though...
He'd also changed into something much more him (what had he been thinking wearing tweed?), now sporting tight blue jeans and a ripped white shirt as he wandered around the rec room, flipping through the cans of film rather then the books, but nothing caught his eye and he sneered a little. "Lot of good you are," he told the shelf, turning to leave the room.
Before Giles could make it through the door though, the jukebox kicked in.
The tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.
Her name is Aphrodite and she rides a crimson shell,
And you know you cannot leave her for you touched the distant sands
With tales of brave Ulysses, how his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing.
"That's much more like it," he said, snapping his fingers and pointing at the jukebox before lighting his joint and racking the balls on the pool table for a game. He was having the weirdest deja-vu though...