Who:
stakesthings and
samianscarWhere: The market to the border of ruins and hunting grounds
When: Early Monday, mid-
minionfestFormat: Starting prose, happy to switch!
What: What Buffy and Spike always do: gender-reversed fairy tale.
Warnings: British slang? (And embedded
forgepost)
(
and Sleeping Handsome waited for his princess to come )
Comments 2
Except Victorian England wouldn't have had those cool phone things. Forges. ThingiesThose things, Buffy had decided since her arrival, were about 65% of what separated Anatole from craptastic crappyland. In other words, from a boring old Hell dimension. That and the profound lack of demons, which was kind of weird in itself ( ... )
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Groggily he turns his head to squint at her.
"Looks pointy…" he muttered. Referring either to the weapon or the fact that he's looking at her through a thornbush.
His hand reaches slightly toward her. S'about all the moving he can do.
Then his eyes focus properly as they fall on the scythe.
"That for me?" he murmured, dyingly. Didn't sound like he meant for Hanukkah.
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