Drabble - Spike & Anya

Apr 30, 2009 17:02


Title: A Call for Immediate Extraction

Timing: Late S7

Rating: PG

Pairing: Spike & Anya

Words: 385

A/N: Written for fangfaceandrea, who asked for a Spike & Anya friendship drabble. I totally laughed writing this.

“What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever had up your ass?”

Spike lifted his head and removed the beer bottle that rested at the small of her back, wiping the condensation that dampened her pink skirt.

“Come again?”

“Your ass,” Anya clarified, taking a step away. “What’s been shoved up there over the centuries that might cause a sudden drop in libido?”

“Anya, it was a dance, not a proposition to join me on my cot of abstinence,” Spike sighed. He reached over to the transistor radio on the rail of the back porch and put an end to their Oldies Hour, cutting off Frankie mid croon. “Can’t I enjoy an evening sans shag or would it just be too tragic to let my talents go to waste?”

Anya dropped down into an Adirondack chair, her hands thrown up in exasperation. “Not everything’s about you, Spike. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got an ex-boyfriend in that house that’s done nothing to coax me into a dark corner, and I really have to wonder what’s wrong with him.”

Spike’s shoulders dropped with relief and he ran a hand through his hair. “Well, if it’s Harris we’re talkin’ about, I’d say you’ll have to do more than just breathe to get his attention. Contending with fresh-faced, sixteen year olds calls for bringing your A game.”

“Don’t be an idiot. I have experience on my side. Years and years of experience. Of Xander-shaped experience, even.”

Jumping to her feet, Anya brushed past Spike, and opened the kitchen door. “Clearly, there has to be some anal obstruction. An extraction is definitely in order.”

“You think you’re prepared for the job, love?” Spike asked, gathering their empty beer bottles against his chest to send them clattering into the sink.

“Oh, am I ever!” she called from where she rifled through the base cabinets of the island. Clearing her throat, she stood and flexed her fingers, the yellow rubber gloves she wore squeaking perversely.

Spike raised an eyebrow and clenched his ass uneasily. He’d hate to be on the receiving end of that treatment.

“There’s going to be a change in this house, and it starts now,” Anya announced, tapping her open palm with her fist. “And that stick up his ass is the first thing that’ll need to go!”

fic, spike, anya, drabble, gen fic

Previous post Next post
Up