Belated birthday greetings for Herself!
This past Sunday was the birthday of the hugely talented and much-beloved herself_nyc. Sadly, I was out of town and unable to make an appropriate offering on the day itself. However, upon returning home and pulling into the driveway, I found that someone had decided to take matters into his own tiny hands . . .
Huh. That's new. What in tarnation could he be up to?
I should probably backtrack and mention that one of my personal high points of the past year was spending a very entertaining weekend with Herself and philips. As you may remember from last year's doll!fic festivities, doll!Spike has big feelings about Herself, and meeting Her in person certainly did nothing to diminish his obsession. In fact, they fast became, ahem, bosom friends:
I think that if he weren't already dead (and, well, plastic), the little guy would have expired from happiness.
But he is, and he didn't. And he was eager to return to the closest thing to heaven he's ever known.
[Sidebar: Y'know, you wouldn't think that little plastic fangs could be so sharp, but then, you've probably never had them buried in your wrist. Since even I have my dignity, I'm leaving that pic out.]
Although doll!Spike bore his capture and return home with stoicism and only minimal nipping, I knew that he was just biding his time until he could make good his escape. When he heard that I was going to be sending the great lady a parcel for her birthday, wacky stowaway hijinks ensued.
*facepalm* I swear, that just didn't come out right. "Package." That's all I meant, honest to Pete!
Aw, man. And here come the waterworks! I'm a total pushover for the tears of a clown.
Poor, bereft little fanboy. I put him in the spice cupboard with a printout of Leather and gave him a little while to compose himself.
When he emerged, I reminded doll!Spike that he could come to WriterCon with me and be reunited with his idol. Combined with the effects of low-quality booze and high-quality, ego-stroking fic, that happy prospect helped him to see that he could do more good in the way of birthday cheer at home than hitchhiking in some tardy parcel that wouldn't even arrive until at least Thursday. Well. You know vamps--they're all over that instant gratification like white on rice.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NANCYKAY!!! *hugs and hugs* Thank you for being my friend, dearest. I wish you much well-deserved joy in the coming year. <333
Huh. That's new. What in tarnation could he be up to?
I should probably backtrack and mention that one of my personal high points of the past year was spending a very entertaining weekend with Herself and philips. As you may remember from last year's doll!fic festivities, doll!Spike has big feelings about Herself, and meeting Her in person certainly did nothing to diminish his obsession. In fact, they fast became, ahem, bosom friends:
I think that if he weren't already dead (and, well, plastic), the little guy would have expired from happiness.
But he is, and he didn't. And he was eager to return to the closest thing to heaven he's ever known.
[Sidebar: Y'know, you wouldn't think that little plastic fangs could be so sharp, but then, you've probably never had them buried in your wrist. Since even I have my dignity, I'm leaving that pic out.]
Although doll!Spike bore his capture and return home with stoicism and only minimal nipping, I knew that he was just biding his time until he could make good his escape. When he heard that I was going to be sending the great lady a parcel for her birthday, wacky stowaway hijinks ensued.
*facepalm* I swear, that just didn't come out right. "Package." That's all I meant, honest to Pete!
Aw, man. And here come the waterworks! I'm a total pushover for the tears of a clown.
Poor, bereft little fanboy. I put him in the spice cupboard with a printout of Leather and gave him a little while to compose himself.
When he emerged, I reminded doll!Spike that he could come to WriterCon with me and be reunited with his idol. Combined with the effects of low-quality booze and high-quality, ego-stroking fic, that happy prospect helped him to see that he could do more good in the way of birthday cheer at home than hitchhiking in some tardy parcel that wouldn't even arrive until at least Thursday. Well. You know vamps--they're all over that instant gratification like white on rice.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NANCYKAY!!! *hugs and hugs* Thank you for being my friend, dearest. I wish you much well-deserved joy in the coming year. <333