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tamingthemuseAUTHOR: Salustra
E-MAIL: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com
TITLE: Spoils of Victory
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: implied Spike/Angel
SUMMARY: Spike has invaded the penthouse; Angel wonders why. Done for tamingthemuse #346-non sequitur.
Distribution: Various lists, Wierd Romance Yahoo Group- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WierdRomance ;
My livejournal - http://salustra.livejournal.com/ ; and the website Weird Romances- http://www.freewebs.com/salustra/wr/index.html . No posting elsewhere without express permission please.
SPOILERS: Through Angel S5 x08 - "Destiny"
CONTENT: vague mentions of m/m sex, bad language.
DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us!
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 588 words.
It had been a long night. A really, really long night. Things going haywire in the office, for a start. Then Spike...I had to sigh. I can't believe he beat me. It never occurred to me he'd be able to do it. He's gotten so strong. I mean two, maybe three Slayers? I...I mean Angelus...never killed even one. Too fond of my unlife to risk it fighting a Slayer needlessly. The rotten brat, never would listen. Always picked fights with the biggest and the baddest he could find. And it probably didn't hurt that up til recently he was feeding on humans, not animals. But still...I've got 150 years or so on him, I should've been able to take him.
Well anyhow, all the paperwork is done, all the decisions that needed to be made are made. And at least for once, since Spike isn't a damn ghost any longer, I'll be able to sleep without him turning up in my bedroom. I get into the elevator and take it up. And then the door whooshes open, and the blaring television and other noises lets me know someone else is here. Fuck. I'm about to call security when the combination of his laughter and the scent of him lets me know it's Spike. Okay, this calls for the extra-heavy value-sized sigh. Now I'll have to evict him before I could get any sleep.
I head to the living room. I can hear the television blaring that's where he is. He's sitting on the floor, his duster laying draped over my favorite chair. He's surrounded by a few empty bottles of my best whiskey, damn him, and piles of junk food that he must have brought with him. I don't keep any food in my kitchen, only blood and booze. Food doesn't have any flavor to me. Spike is like Darla that way, got the hedonist nature and the easy way of seducing and the ability to taste food. At the moment that fact annoys me more than it should.
"Spike!" I bark, and he turns his head to look. He's got that grin, the one he knows ticks me off no end.
"Hello ponce," he says, his speech just slurred enough to tell me the booze had started to affect him. "Come down here and join me. Carpet party, just like in Pretty Woman."
I growl. "What. Are. You. Doing here?" I cross my arms across my chest and give my best disapproving meancing glare.
The little shit raises an eyebrow at me. Then he giggles. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that he can giggle without sounding girly? Then he says, "Didn't I just kick your arse all over that opera house in Death Valley?"
I frown at the non-sequitur. "What does that have to do with anything?"
He snorts at me. "Din't you always teach me whoever won the bloody fight got what he wanted from the loser?"
I blanch a little. No one's topped me since, well, Darla. "You don't mean you want to...?"
"Don't flatter yourself. Nah, I got no place to live now that I'm all fleshy again. I'm moving in. Oh, and I'm sharing the bed, unless you want to move to the couch." He flashes another one of those cocky grins at me.
I wonder if it's possible to dislocate something sighing, because I come pretty close. "Would it do any good to say no?"
"Not a bit, no," Spike says.
I'm definitely getting too old for this shit.
E-MAIL: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com
TITLE: Spoils of Victory
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: implied Spike/Angel
SUMMARY: Spike has invaded the penthouse; Angel wonders why. Done for tamingthemuse #346-non sequitur.
Distribution: Various lists, Wierd Romance Yahoo Group- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WierdRomance ;
My livejournal - http://salustra.livejournal.com/ ; and the website Weird Romances- http://www.freewebs.com/salustra/wr/index.html . No posting elsewhere without express permission please.
SPOILERS: Through Angel S5 x08 - "Destiny"
CONTENT: vague mentions of m/m sex, bad language.
DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us!
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 588 words.
It had been a long night. A really, really long night. Things going haywire in the office, for a start. Then Spike...I had to sigh. I can't believe he beat me. It never occurred to me he'd be able to do it. He's gotten so strong. I mean two, maybe three Slayers? I...I mean Angelus...never killed even one. Too fond of my unlife to risk it fighting a Slayer needlessly. The rotten brat, never would listen. Always picked fights with the biggest and the baddest he could find. And it probably didn't hurt that up til recently he was feeding on humans, not animals. But still...I've got 150 years or so on him, I should've been able to take him.
Well anyhow, all the paperwork is done, all the decisions that needed to be made are made. And at least for once, since Spike isn't a damn ghost any longer, I'll be able to sleep without him turning up in my bedroom. I get into the elevator and take it up. And then the door whooshes open, and the blaring television and other noises lets me know someone else is here. Fuck. I'm about to call security when the combination of his laughter and the scent of him lets me know it's Spike. Okay, this calls for the extra-heavy value-sized sigh. Now I'll have to evict him before I could get any sleep.
I head to the living room. I can hear the television blaring that's where he is. He's sitting on the floor, his duster laying draped over my favorite chair. He's surrounded by a few empty bottles of my best whiskey, damn him, and piles of junk food that he must have brought with him. I don't keep any food in my kitchen, only blood and booze. Food doesn't have any flavor to me. Spike is like Darla that way, got the hedonist nature and the easy way of seducing and the ability to taste food. At the moment that fact annoys me more than it should.
"Spike!" I bark, and he turns his head to look. He's got that grin, the one he knows ticks me off no end.
"Hello ponce," he says, his speech just slurred enough to tell me the booze had started to affect him. "Come down here and join me. Carpet party, just like in Pretty Woman."
I growl. "What. Are. You. Doing here?" I cross my arms across my chest and give my best disapproving meancing glare.
The little shit raises an eyebrow at me. Then he giggles. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that he can giggle without sounding girly? Then he says, "Didn't I just kick your arse all over that opera house in Death Valley?"
I frown at the non-sequitur. "What does that have to do with anything?"
He snorts at me. "Din't you always teach me whoever won the bloody fight got what he wanted from the loser?"
I blanch a little. No one's topped me since, well, Darla. "You don't mean you want to...?"
"Don't flatter yourself. Nah, I got no place to live now that I'm all fleshy again. I'm moving in. Oh, and I'm sharing the bed, unless you want to move to the couch." He flashes another one of those cocky grins at me.
I wonder if it's possible to dislocate something sighing, because I come pretty close. "Would it do any good to say no?"
"Not a bit, no," Spike says.
I'm definitely getting too old for this shit.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 04:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 05:04 am (UTC)