Just like usual, I ended up with something short, weird and unbeta’d. I hope it makes someone out there laugh. Thank you for all the wonderful offerings we’ve had this past month!
various era, ending with post Season 7
He pulled her tight against his broad chest, crushing her breasts against him and her lips under his own. Her angry words died on her lips as passion zinged through her, and the only sound was the soft sigh she made as she gave into the feelings that had been raging for weeks.
“What’s that you’ve got then, Slayer?”
Buffy yelped as Spike’s smooth voice came from directly over her shoulder, peering at the book in her hands. She quickly slammed it closed, and turned to face him, only to realize the cover of the romance novel was now facing him, with its lovely half undressed blonde hero and heroine locked in a passionate embrace.
Spike’s eyebrow lifted, and his lips opened, no doubt to make some cutting remark. So she threw the book at his head and ran.
She lay back against the dark sheets, anchoring him to her with a strong grip on his shirt. She looked wanton, unembarrassed despite her nudity. Her attention wasn’t on her own body; all it was fixed on him. He felt his desires rising, matching with the lust he saw in her eyes.
“Are you reading my book, Spike?”
Spike didn’t flinch, didn’t run. Most people would say he remained eminently unconcerned by her amused accusation, but most people weren’t slayers. She’d seen the tiny twitch in his shoulders at the sound of her voice, the tight cotton of his black tee-shirt clinging to the muscles.
Finally he closed the book, turned and offered it to her. She automatically reached out to accept it, their fingers grazing in passing. The lovers on the cover looked rather more pained than passionate, she thought. And how could you possibly kiss when twisted up like that?
“Just keeping your page… warm.”
Their fingers entangled as they walked into the building where they’d first met, first argued, first loved. So many years had passed, so much grief and happiness suffered alone. And now, whatever grief or happiness life might bring… they would face it together.
In the bottom of a huge crater, an odd assortment of artifacts could be seen. Swords and knives of all sizes and shapes lay among the tumbled rocks. Letters and pictures fluttered gently in the light breeze, the only wind that could penetrate the depths. A stuffed animal rested atop a desk, a single shoe lay abandoned, as if it’s owner would return in a moment.
In the center of the crater, a glint of light reflected off a gaudy pendant. It was ugly, but somehow also entrancing. Someone was coming for it. A step away, the charred pages of a book lay, the cover totally burned away so you had no idea what it may have been about.
And when the crater was filled, the swords and knives were gathered, the letters and pictures collected, the desk and stuffed pig lifted to the surface, the pendant was long since spirited away into the night. But the book remained, at the bottom of the crater, covered with hundreds of tonnes of earth.
And somewhere, two blondes entangled their hands, turned towards one another, and kissed passionately, no matter how uncomfortable the position they were in.
Originally posted at https://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/607760.html