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Avoiding packing...
First of all Happy Birthday to two v. special people: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mikeygs (sorry I'm late!) and st_salieri. Hope the coming year brings you both much joy! *hugs*
And then, because trying to pack a caravan (camper van for those of you in the US) for a week's holiday is nigh on impossible with a toddler running around and is driving me *insane*, I'm going to indulge in a writerly meme (snagged fromspuffyduds):
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
Went though some folders. Found these. The first two might never be finished. The second two definitely will.
Ficlet that wouldn't work. What if Lawson had turned up in LA in S4?
A few bruises later the demons were dust, but as Connor turned to walk away he saw a familiar silhuette walking towards him. With a grim smile he tightened the grip on the stake.
But Angelus stopped and shook his head with an amused little sideways smile.
“Now, now son - just relax. I didn’t come to fight.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I care about what you want?”
Angelus smirked. “I’d be gone before you could lift your arm. But - I found you for a reason. There’s someone I’d like you to meet!”
Connor frowned. What was this?
“Connor - please say hello to your big brother, Sam Lawson. Lawson, this is Connor.”
Out of the darkness came another young man, dressed in a dark blue woollen jacket and jumper. Nice haircut, handsome face... but definitely a vampire.
“Hi!” the Lawson vampire said, holding out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. It’s funny, because I always wished I had a little brother - all I had were sisters.”
Connor stared at the hand in mute disgust.
Angelus shrugged. “Told you. His stepdad really could have done a better job teaching him manners.”
BtVS/Doctor Who crossover. Not long, but needs *so* much work. Spoilers for 'Doomsday'. Rose and Xander.
It was many hours later when they finally stumbled out of the pub and into the night, legs not quite stable anymore.
"I fink your a little drunk mistar Harrrris..." Rose slurred as she leaned against Xander, and he put his arm around her, trying to steady himself.
"Oh no... if I was really drunk I'd turn into a caveman.. see there was this time with Buffy and enchanted beer..."
"Enchanted beer? That's like totally lame! I once met an alien werewolf!"
Xander looked her as straight in the eye as possible, which wasn't very. "Hey - Willow used to date a werewolf! Oh - and I think Angel still is..." he frowned in concentration. "But not an alien one. Jussst your regular kind."
Rose giggled and shook her head. This was exactly what she'd been missing - people who led lives as insane as hers.
From the sequel to 'Maybe Someday'. Spike, Angel and Illyria do a lot of travelling to different dimensions. And I like to tackle clichés head-on... *g*
“Sky the colour of blood. Check. Black craggy mountains. Check. Large disgusting pools of fuck-knows-what. Check. Atmosphere of sulphur. Check. Right then - where are the devils with pitch forks?”
Spike turned to Illyria, eyebrow questioningly raised. The place was beyond a joke - it was like some Heavy Metal fan’s trippy fantasy.
Illyria stared back, uncomprehending. “I do not know of any breed of devil that carries pitch forks. Pitch forks are tools for manual labour, not weapons... your query is bizarre and strange.”
Spike opened his mouth and then closed it again, knowing a lost cause when he saw one.
Snippet from the sequel to 'Cavemen' (S/B/A). Warning: Pretty much just crack!fic... This bit takes place around half a year after the end of the original fic. As you might remember, in 'Cavemen' Spike & Angel were v. reluctant to discuss what went on between them. Since then, however, this has been more than resolved and the threesome really does go all three ways. I promise, one day I *will* finish it. (Word count currently at 10000 words.)
“Spike,” Buffy said, observing him from the bedroom doorway, “The Village People called. They want their newest member back!”
He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, carefully applying black nail polish. His hair was a deliberately ordered mess of brown curls, tipped with white, and he wore a tightly fitting black sleeveless T-shirt and black leather pants. But his feet were bare, lending him an oddly vulnerable air despite the clothing and the assortment of necklaces, bracelets and rings scattered around his neck, wrists and fingers.
Buffy narrowed her eyes, studying his face. Yes, he was wearing eyeliner too!
He blew on his nails, and then answered without looking up.
“Thought about gettin’ a collar too, but figured it might be overkill!”
Angel silently came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle before resting his head on her shoulder, as he also took in the figure on the bed.
“I wouldn’t have minded a collar...” he said, his low voice almost a purr, and Buffy wondered yet again how she’d managed to get into a situation where such things were part of the daily conversation.
“I’ll get you one for your birthday, pet!” Spike replied, as he with utmost concentration started on the second layer.
“OK,” she sighed. “What’s with the gay look?”
“S called metrosexual Love, look it up. Anyway, it’s not too far off what I wore in the ‘70s. Figured that since I’m growing my hair I might change the rest of my look too...”
He cast a glance at Angel, whose eyes were still on him, and smiled knowingly. “Someone appreciates it!”
She shook her head. “Which - again - proves the gay thing! Anyway hurry up - people are gonna be here soon!”
She turned her head to look at Angel, and saw that he was still focussed on Spike. By the expression on his face she could tell that there was no doubt that he would spend the whole evening thinking about collars...
She looked at Spike again. “You’re evil!”
He finally met her eyes and grinned wickedly. “Yeah... but you’re the one who wanted him to be more open about our sleeping arrangements - I’m just nudgin’ things along a little!”
Angel held her a little tighter. “There was this one time in Bucharest...”
Spike eyed him levelly. “Dream on Sally, not doin’ that again!”
ETA: My life has just been enriched immesurably by Desert pixies made us do it bynomelon - quite possibly the most adorable piece of S/A porn I have ever read. Like a tonic on this hectic day. :)
mikeygs (sorry I'm late!) and st_salieri. Hope the coming year brings you both much joy! *hugs*And then, because trying to pack a caravan (camper van for those of you in the US) for a week's holiday is nigh on impossible with a toddler running around and is driving me *insane*, I'm going to indulge in a writerly meme (snagged from
spuffyduds):When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
Went though some folders. Found these. The first two might never be finished. The second two definitely will.
Ficlet that wouldn't work. What if Lawson had turned up in LA in S4?
A few bruises later the demons were dust, but as Connor turned to walk away he saw a familiar silhuette walking towards him. With a grim smile he tightened the grip on the stake.
But Angelus stopped and shook his head with an amused little sideways smile.
“Now, now son - just relax. I didn’t come to fight.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I care about what you want?”
Angelus smirked. “I’d be gone before you could lift your arm. But - I found you for a reason. There’s someone I’d like you to meet!”
Connor frowned. What was this?
“Connor - please say hello to your big brother, Sam Lawson. Lawson, this is Connor.”
Out of the darkness came another young man, dressed in a dark blue woollen jacket and jumper. Nice haircut, handsome face... but definitely a vampire.
“Hi!” the Lawson vampire said, holding out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. It’s funny, because I always wished I had a little brother - all I had were sisters.”
Connor stared at the hand in mute disgust.
Angelus shrugged. “Told you. His stepdad really could have done a better job teaching him manners.”
BtVS/Doctor Who crossover. Not long, but needs *so* much work. Spoilers for 'Doomsday'. Rose and Xander.
It was many hours later when they finally stumbled out of the pub and into the night, legs not quite stable anymore.
"I fink your a little drunk mistar Harrrris..." Rose slurred as she leaned against Xander, and he put his arm around her, trying to steady himself.
"Oh no... if I was really drunk I'd turn into a caveman.. see there was this time with Buffy and enchanted beer..."
"Enchanted beer? That's like totally lame! I once met an alien werewolf!"
Xander looked her as straight in the eye as possible, which wasn't very. "Hey - Willow used to date a werewolf! Oh - and I think Angel still is..." he frowned in concentration. "But not an alien one. Jussst your regular kind."
Rose giggled and shook her head. This was exactly what she'd been missing - people who led lives as insane as hers.
From the sequel to 'Maybe Someday'. Spike, Angel and Illyria do a lot of travelling to different dimensions. And I like to tackle clichés head-on... *g*
“Sky the colour of blood. Check. Black craggy mountains. Check. Large disgusting pools of fuck-knows-what. Check. Atmosphere of sulphur. Check. Right then - where are the devils with pitch forks?”
Spike turned to Illyria, eyebrow questioningly raised. The place was beyond a joke - it was like some Heavy Metal fan’s trippy fantasy.
Illyria stared back, uncomprehending. “I do not know of any breed of devil that carries pitch forks. Pitch forks are tools for manual labour, not weapons... your query is bizarre and strange.”
Spike opened his mouth and then closed it again, knowing a lost cause when he saw one.
Snippet from the sequel to 'Cavemen' (S/B/A). Warning: Pretty much just crack!fic... This bit takes place around half a year after the end of the original fic. As you might remember, in 'Cavemen' Spike & Angel were v. reluctant to discuss what went on between them. Since then, however, this has been more than resolved and the threesome really does go all three ways. I promise, one day I *will* finish it. (Word count currently at 10000 words.)
“Spike,” Buffy said, observing him from the bedroom doorway, “The Village People called. They want their newest member back!”
He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, carefully applying black nail polish. His hair was a deliberately ordered mess of brown curls, tipped with white, and he wore a tightly fitting black sleeveless T-shirt and black leather pants. But his feet were bare, lending him an oddly vulnerable air despite the clothing and the assortment of necklaces, bracelets and rings scattered around his neck, wrists and fingers.
Buffy narrowed her eyes, studying his face. Yes, he was wearing eyeliner too!
He blew on his nails, and then answered without looking up.
“Thought about gettin’ a collar too, but figured it might be overkill!”
Angel silently came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle before resting his head on her shoulder, as he also took in the figure on the bed.
“I wouldn’t have minded a collar...” he said, his low voice almost a purr, and Buffy wondered yet again how she’d managed to get into a situation where such things were part of the daily conversation.
“I’ll get you one for your birthday, pet!” Spike replied, as he with utmost concentration started on the second layer.
“OK,” she sighed. “What’s with the gay look?”
“S called metrosexual Love, look it up. Anyway, it’s not too far off what I wore in the ‘70s. Figured that since I’m growing my hair I might change the rest of my look too...”
He cast a glance at Angel, whose eyes were still on him, and smiled knowingly. “Someone appreciates it!”
She shook her head. “Which - again - proves the gay thing! Anyway hurry up - people are gonna be here soon!”
She turned her head to look at Angel, and saw that he was still focussed on Spike. By the expression on his face she could tell that there was no doubt that he would spend the whole evening thinking about collars...
She looked at Spike again. “You’re evil!”
He finally met her eyes and grinned wickedly. “Yeah... but you’re the one who wanted him to be more open about our sleeping arrangements - I’m just nudgin’ things along a little!”
Angel held her a little tighter. “There was this one time in Bucharest...”
Spike eyed him levelly. “Dream on Sally, not doin’ that again!”
ETA: My life has just been enriched immesurably by Desert pixies made us do it by
nomelon - quite possibly the most adorable piece of S/A porn I have ever read. Like a tonic on this hectic day. :)