Oh, connie. He could have gifted Xander with a family copy of the book because he really does consider Xander to be a son.
t weeping now
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Oh, connie. He could have gifted Xander with a family copy of the book because he really does consider Xander to be a son.
t weeping now
Elena, you're such an enabler. I love you.
But Xander wouldn't know this and still thinks that Giles doesn't repect him and .. and..
t still weeping
This story of yours is going to break me, you know. And I couldn't be more pleased.
It's the late night fic update! Damn, I'm going to hate going back to a normal schedule
Just before sunset, Willow left the sleeping Tara and went out to the courtyard, her spellbooks under her arm. No one seemed to be moving around; they were either resting from their day's work out in the fields or getting dinner ready. Anya had headed off wherever Xander was, and all the Summerses were napping. A perfect opportunity to go consult with a vampire sorcerer.
She paused at the bus' open door, listening for the sound of anything she didn't want to acknowledge, much less interrupt. All she heard was faint singing, and she smelled cigarette smoke. Spike, at least, was up.
She knocked on the open door. "Guys? You awake? And decent?"
There was a faint laugh. "Honest answer, Red? Never."
"OK. If I come in there, am I going to see things that will scar my young mind forever?"
"Only in a good way."
She sighed. "Vampires."
Spike appeared, barefoot and pulling on his t-shirt. Willow tried not to notice that his black jeans, while zipped, were not buttoned. "What can we do for the Red Witch today?"
She glanced at the setting sun. There were enough shadows from surrounding trees that no direct light fell on the bus, but it was still quite bright out. She put on her most cheerful smile. "Can Giles come out and play?"
Spike snickered then looked towards the rear of the bus. "Oh, Ripper, your little friend Willow is here for you." The reply was in something that sounded like Old High Temple Sumerian, making Spike laugh out loud.
"Willow," Giles called, "if you'd like to come in, I can promise that I, at least, am decent. It's still a bit bright for my taste."
Willow accepted Spike's hand for the high jump to the first step. He sat down at the top of the steps and pulled out another cigarette as she went to the darkened rear of the bus. Giles was sitting next to the window with the heaviest paint.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
She sat across the aisle and put her books on her lap. "It's the reversal spell. I want to make sure I've got it right. I don't think we'll have a lot of time to get it off."
"No, you're right. Let me see what you've got."
As she handed over her books and notes, Willow noticed Giles wasn't wearing his glasses. The little concentration lines between his eyebrows as he perused a text were still the same, but his attention seemed sharper without the lenses. She thought about the Lois and Clark tv show she loved as a kid and how the villain had mocked Clark Kent's disguise of eyeglasses. She understood it now.
Giles must have heard her slight snicker. He looked up quizzically. "Yes?"
"Oh, sorry, nothing. I was just thinking how different you look without your glasses."
He started to reach towards his face, then chuckled. "Yes, well, I can't say I miss needing them." He smiled at her before going back to work.
What pretty eyes he had, she thought. She'd noticed his eyes first, in those days when she was still allowed to have a crush on a guy. Closely followed by the smile.
She shook herself firmly and concentrated on what he was beginning to explain about the spell that would bring Tara's mind back to its proper home.
At the front of the bus, Spike watched them as he smoked. Red seemed to have no fear of Ripper, leaning close to him as he pointed to various places of the text they were working on. As she brushed her hair out of her face, Ripper's eyes followed the gesture, then lingered a moment on her hair before dropping back to the book. Or maybe he was looking at the pulse in her throat.
She began nodding enthusiastically, talking and gesturing. Ripper smiled proudly, letting her babble for several moments before tapping her on the knee and bringing her attention back to the book. He turned to another section of the book to point out a passage. The pages of notes on the spell slipped out and fell to the floor.
From the chapel, bells began to ring. Willow gasped and looked at her watch. "Oh, it's getting late."
Spike took a last drag on his cigarette and tossed the butt out the door. "Call to Vespers," he said. "Sunset."
"The bells will wake up Tara, she'll wonder where I am." She scooped up the notes and hurried off the bus.
"I'm going to go stretch my legs," Spike said, getting to his feet. He headed back to find his boots. "You ought to come with me, you've been cooped up in here all day."
Giles looked nervously at the windows. "It's still awfully bright."
"Sun's behind the mountains, you shouldn't be in any danger. Besides, it's good for you. Builds character."
There would be more, but Hubby pointed out that I received a package today, and it contains my Angel Season 1 DVDs! I've been cackling over the pictures and stuff on the packaging. And, look, a long weekend! Whatever shall I do!
I don't think we'll have a lot of time to get it off."
Heh. She said get it off... heh. Fine, I'm pornily inclinded.
Connie, you've never met Lindsey, have you? Ahhh.... Yes, by all means watch the DVDs.
Yes, well, we love you anyway.
Number slut!
Damn, I'm going to hate going back to a normal schedule
I'm not going to be happy about it, either. This is wonderful stuff, connie. I suppose asking you to resist the lure of the DVDs is too much, but really... who wants to watch Lindsey and Doyle?
Susan, I loved that. It was very nice. I noticed one thing:
She loves the way his pale skin and pale hair reflect back every little bit of light in the dim basement, and she runs her hands over her shoulders and down his back. She wants to memorize what he feels like.
she runs her hands over her shoulders?
Plei, lovely, as usual.
Connnnnnnnnnnieeeeeeeeee! You can't leave it there! No, more, yes, damn it!
she runs her hands over her shoulders?
Good catch! I must've read the damn thing ten times and not noticed, because my brain helpfully sees only what I meant to say.