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Birthday wishes! And a fic!
Today is the birthday of my most wonderful and excellent beta, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh! She's also a talented icon-maker and a genuinely nice person - all in all, the sort of person everyone should have on their flist!
I am so glad that we met Kathy and I'm very pleased to wish you a
I hope you have a brilliant and wonderful day, full of presents and surprises!
And speaking of surprises... you might remember a stray comment a little while ago, about wanting to be a fly on the wall in a certain scene that was mentioned in passing - well, I wrote it! :) And it turned out to be the loveliest little fic (it's only about 600 words). I hope you enjoy!
Title: A round of 'Kick the Riley'
Setting: About a month post-NFA. London, England. (It's a complete stand-alone, but for those reading my fic, it's set a week or two after the events of 'The Summer After'.)
Summary: Spike and Angel being very, very drunk.
Beta: The lovelylillianmorgan. :)
A round of 'Kick the Riley'
Spike wasn’t sure how late it was. Except very - he was beginning to feel the first twinges of dawn starting to tug at him. Didn’t care though. Wanted to stay right where he was. Wanted more alcohol. Sweet, sweet alcohol, that had made his troubles fly away like... like... bats! There was something about bats and vampires, wasn’t there? He couldn’t remember.
All he knew was that he was in a pub - a real, proper English pub - so he must be in England. And that he was here with Angel, who was the best, most sensible mate a bloke could ever want.
For some reason - now lost in a hazy, drunken mist - they were talking about Riley Finn. Or rather he was talking, since Angel didn’t know the wanker. But he was more than eager to find out - couldn’t get enough of hearing about how useless the guy was. Oh, Angel was a right bright fella!
“So then...” Spike frowned, trying to remember where he had come to, before it all came back in a rush, slightly taking him by surprise. “Yeah, so then, right - I see him sneaking out of the house! Leaving Buffy’s warm, comfy bed! Now who’d do such a thing?” He looked at Angel meaningfully and shook his head and Angel followed suit. This wasn’t a good idea however, and made Spike feel dizzy.
More drink - that would sort it out! Angel had obviously come to the same conclusion and was gulping down the contents of his glass, as eagerly as if it was fresh virgin blood.
After the steadying influence of the top class whiskey, Spike felt able to continue:
“Remember that vamp-house downtown?... Back in Shunnydale? The one where they gave suck-jobs? Well, guess where Captain America spent his allowance? That’s right! Was even more of a stupid git than I thought! Buffy wasn’t too impr...pressed either. And then - then the bastard takes off! Leavesh her high and dry. Bloody coward, that’s what he was!” He scowled at Angel, who companionably scowled back: “Coward...”
He tried to say more, but Spike wasn’t finished:
“Now see me - I had sort of the same problem the next year - cause y’know, she was sleepin’ with me, but didn’t love me or nuthin’... but did I give up? No I didn’t - I went and got my bloody soul back, didn’t I? But soldier-boy... soldier-boy who had a real chance with her, he just quit! Couldn’t cope. Was never man enough for her anyway!”
He picked up his glass again, but realised with a sad sense of doom that it was empty. “Gone...” he said and looked up at Angel, wallowing in the misery of a glass devoid of alcohol and past failures: “Now if I hadn’t had that chip in m’head I’d have beaten him up right proper! Deserved a beating...”
Angel was staring at him, more alert than he’d been for hours: “I beat him up! I came to Sun... Sun... Sunnydale once and I beat him up. The idiot thought I’d slept with Buffy and lost my soul!”
He giggled, then tried to look inside the empty bottle on their table to work out if there was more drink hiding somewhere within.
“You beat up Riley Finn?” Spike asked slowly, as sudden feelings of warmth and happiness flowed through him.
“Yup!” Angel replied, grinning.
Spike stared ahead, carefully considering what Angel had said. Then he looked his grandsire deep in the eyes:
“Angel?” he said solemnly.
“Yes Spike?”
“I think I might have to kiss you!”
kathyh! She's also a talented icon-maker and a genuinely nice person - all in all, the sort of person everyone should have on their flist! I am so glad that we met Kathy and I'm very pleased to wish you a
Happy Birthday!!!!!!!!!
I hope you have a brilliant and wonderful day, full of presents and surprises!
And speaking of surprises... you might remember a stray comment a little while ago, about wanting to be a fly on the wall in a certain scene that was mentioned in passing - well, I wrote it! :) And it turned out to be the loveliest little fic (it's only about 600 words). I hope you enjoy!
Title: A round of 'Kick the Riley'
Setting: About a month post-NFA. London, England. (It's a complete stand-alone, but for those reading my fic, it's set a week or two after the events of 'The Summer After'.)
Summary: Spike and Angel being very, very drunk.
Beta: The lovely
lillianmorgan. :)A round of 'Kick the Riley'
Spike wasn’t sure how late it was. Except very - he was beginning to feel the first twinges of dawn starting to tug at him. Didn’t care though. Wanted to stay right where he was. Wanted more alcohol. Sweet, sweet alcohol, that had made his troubles fly away like... like... bats! There was something about bats and vampires, wasn’t there? He couldn’t remember.
All he knew was that he was in a pub - a real, proper English pub - so he must be in England. And that he was here with Angel, who was the best, most sensible mate a bloke could ever want.
For some reason - now lost in a hazy, drunken mist - they were talking about Riley Finn. Or rather he was talking, since Angel didn’t know the wanker. But he was more than eager to find out - couldn’t get enough of hearing about how useless the guy was. Oh, Angel was a right bright fella!
“So then...” Spike frowned, trying to remember where he had come to, before it all came back in a rush, slightly taking him by surprise. “Yeah, so then, right - I see him sneaking out of the house! Leaving Buffy’s warm, comfy bed! Now who’d do such a thing?” He looked at Angel meaningfully and shook his head and Angel followed suit. This wasn’t a good idea however, and made Spike feel dizzy.
More drink - that would sort it out! Angel had obviously come to the same conclusion and was gulping down the contents of his glass, as eagerly as if it was fresh virgin blood.
After the steadying influence of the top class whiskey, Spike felt able to continue:
“Remember that vamp-house downtown?... Back in Shunnydale? The one where they gave suck-jobs? Well, guess where Captain America spent his allowance? That’s right! Was even more of a stupid git than I thought! Buffy wasn’t too impr...pressed either. And then - then the bastard takes off! Leavesh her high and dry. Bloody coward, that’s what he was!” He scowled at Angel, who companionably scowled back: “Coward...”
He tried to say more, but Spike wasn’t finished:
“Now see me - I had sort of the same problem the next year - cause y’know, she was sleepin’ with me, but didn’t love me or nuthin’... but did I give up? No I didn’t - I went and got my bloody soul back, didn’t I? But soldier-boy... soldier-boy who had a real chance with her, he just quit! Couldn’t cope. Was never man enough for her anyway!”
He picked up his glass again, but realised with a sad sense of doom that it was empty. “Gone...” he said and looked up at Angel, wallowing in the misery of a glass devoid of alcohol and past failures: “Now if I hadn’t had that chip in m’head I’d have beaten him up right proper! Deserved a beating...”
Angel was staring at him, more alert than he’d been for hours: “I beat him up! I came to Sun... Sun... Sunnydale once and I beat him up. The idiot thought I’d slept with Buffy and lost my soul!”
He giggled, then tried to look inside the empty bottle on their table to work out if there was more drink hiding somewhere within.
“You beat up Riley Finn?” Spike asked slowly, as sudden feelings of warmth and happiness flowed through him.
“Yup!” Angel replied, grinning.
Spike stared ahead, carefully considering what Angel had said. Then he looked his grandsire deep in the eyes:
“Angel?” he said solemnly.
“Yes Spike?”
“I think I might have to kiss you!”
no subject
*curses LJ* I LOVE spam! At least spam from my friends. :)
I'm only saying that I love how you write the boys. Your wonderful stories made my day (or rather evening).
Aw thanks! :) I love the boys so very, very much and I'm glad I manage to put it across. And I'm glad that I entertained you - I'm hoping you'll like the rest of the verse too once you find the time. (Incidentally my threesome fic grew out of this verse... since it would be very easy to turn this into S/A as you can see! Instead I went the pure Spuffy way.)