aimeelicious | drabbles

I have three of five finished, so here is the first set of drabbles (of random lengths) from my earlier call. I should be posting the other two before bedtime!

for ladycat777, who requested Xander/Spike, dirty kink or Dawn schmoop

"She said she's fine," Xander said patiently for what felt like the millionth time, trying to placate the vampire currently pacing a hole into their new living room rug.

"Suppose she did, but I'm tellin' you Xander, I know that somethin's wrong," Spike insisted, frowning. Xander thought he looked adorable.

"Fine. Let's call her back then, but Spike, it'll have to wait, it's like, 3:00 in the morning in Italy." No response, just more pacing. Xander sighed. When Spike got riled up about Dawn there was no calming him. Well, unless...

"Sit," he said, tugging on Spike's arm the next time he passed by the sofa and pulling him down on his lap. "We can stay up late and call the minute you think she'd be awake, okay?"

Spike poked Xander in the chest. "Just have to be reasonable, don't ya," he said with a half-smile.

"I'm a practical man," Xander said, ignoring the snort and leaning in to lick Spike's neck. "And I know just how to keep you busy until the sun rises in Europe," he continued, rubbing Spike's ass fondly.

Spike's half-smile widened into a leer. "Always liked practical," he said.

for ngaio, who requested Gunn/Xander, pancakes and being regular guys

Gunn liberally poured syrup on his mound of pancakes, then passed the half-empty bottle over to Xander.
"Oh man, these look so good, I can't stand it," he said, stabbing them with a fork and eating the first mouthful with his eyes closed and a look of intense pleasure on his face.

"Me either man, me either," Xander said, adding syrup as well. Then he paused. "Since when did eating pancakes for breakfast become the most normal thing about us, anyway?"

Gunn didn't really know, and was pretty used to Xander asking a lot of rhetorical questions, so he said nothing. In silent companionship, both men munched hungrily on their food. But after the plates were cleared, Gunn noticed that Xander was still watching him expectantly over his coffee cup.

"What, I was s'posed to actually answer that?" he said, feeling on the spot.

"Yeah. I mean, how did we get here?" Xander asked.

Gunn laughed out loud. "We ain't got time for me to review that!"

Xander looked like that wasn't good enough, so Gunn went on.

"So we spend our nights demon hunting...sets us apart, I guess, but it's just what we do. Our own definition of normal." He glanced around, then back at Xander. "Like eating pancakes and going home together. Speaking of, you gettin' the check today, or am I?"

They squabbled harmlessly about who was paying all the way to the cash register, and as they walked out the door Gunn caught a glimpse of the two of them reflected in the glass. Just a couple of regular guys, he thought with satisfaction.

for vampirefever, who requested Giles/Wesley, with arguing over a translation and UST

"Giles, I would like you to please look at this again. I'm really quite sure it's referring to last spring, and not next summer." As Giles made his way across the library to the big table, Wesley felt himself getting more irritated, and more aroused. They were getting conflicting time frames from their translations of this text, and the battle over whose was correct had been going on for quite some time. Which would be taxing enough under normal circumstances, but given his growing attraction to the other Watcher, he wanted nothing more than to escape, get out of the confines of the stacks and go somewhere he could breathe.

Instead, that lean form was now pressed up against his back, reaching over his shoulder to run a finger gently over the line in question, and the air became even thinner.

"Wesley, I know you're convinced, but I've had more experience converting Gro'kkin, and the language clearly translates to the equinox of 1999." Giles stood up again. "Now please, can we move on? There are still several paragraphs to go." He went back across the room, obviously dismissing any continued argument.

And with him went the heat, the warmth that smelled like scotch and home, the warmth Wesley wanted to bury himself in. He blinked, suddenly unable to focus on the book in front of him. His cock was hard, he'd lost the translation skirmish, and Giles was interminably oblivious. There was nothing to do but go on. So Wesley picked up his pen and stared until the writing became clear once more.