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estepheiaSorry about the long wait. Real life kept me busy. This is the story I started writing for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snoopygirll, formerly untitled. I'm not sure if I'll keep the title, but 'untitled' I like even less....
Still rough and unbeta'd.
TITLE: Cues and Balls
PAIRING: Spike/Xander
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: S7
SUMMARY: Xander, Spike, the Bronze
Part 1 is here
Part 2 is here
***************************************
Part 2 ended like this:
"I'm gonna win this game, even if it's the last thing I do. And nothing you'll do or say will stop me, not even your entertaining but completely fabricated little fable."
"Nothing? You willing to bet on that?" Spike asks.
Part 3
If Xander's alarm bells weren't clamoring already they'd go off now. He's seen what Spike gets up to when there's something at stake, had a front row seat during the crazy summer of Buffy's death, when they were … well, not friends but something-other-than-enemies.
"Oh no. No betting," Xander tells him emphatically.
"Why not? Spices things up a bit. A hundred quid say there's no way you're going to win this game…."
"Since when do you have any money?"
"Since none of your business."
Maybe it's a British thing, maybe it's sheer obstinacy - of which Spike obviously has more than a fair share - but when it comes to a wager there's nothing Spike won't stoop to. No trick too low, no stunt too foolhardy….
"Spike, I'm not betting against you. Ever."
Spike snorts. "Afraid I'll distract you with my wicked wiles?"
"As if you wouldn't try."
"Oh please. Besides, even if I did, what's the worst that could happen?"
"Uh…." Xander swallows, as a tantalizing worst-case scenario worms itself under his skin: Spike's hands tugging on his clothes, slipping under his shirt and dipping underneath the waistband of Xander's pants…. Guh!
Spike gives him a heavy-lidded look that is entirely too knowing. "Chicken." It turns into a slow, languid once-over, gliding over Xander's body like an ice-cube over hot skin, leaving goose-bumps and a hard-on in its wake.
It's not like Spike hasn't done this before, three centuries ago or so, while usurping Xander's basement, turning on the innuendo and doing that… that goose-bumpy thing with his eyes to make Xander fluster. It's a normal part of Spike's repertoire of mind games, along with calling him loser-boy and making digs about Xander's inability to hold a job longer than a few weeks. But it's never before been so unequivocal.
Xander's response lies somewhere between a determined head-shake, supposed to shake off the disturbing effect Spike is having on him, and a breathless shudder. He licks his suddenly parched lips. "Spike, for the last time: I'm not betting against you. I've seen the things you do to win."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Remember that one time you set your hand on fire?" Xander asks, trying to steer the conversation away from the pitfalls that have opened up all around him. "For two hundred bucks?"
"Oh that." Spike says with a dismissive shrug. He pops a few peanuts into his mouth.
"Yeah that."
"I won, didn't I? Been on fire before. Knew I could handle three seconds."
"You were so drunk you were barely able to count. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about the fact that you should have staked that vamp right away, instead of suggesting that stupid bet."
"And dust all that lovely cash he'd been waving around? A vamp's gotta live as well, you know."
It is a old argument, comfortable like a pair of well-worn slippers, harking back to simpler times. Xander follows the script to the letter: "If you hadn't warned him about your presence it wouldn't have take you three tries to stake him. You almost ended up in an ashtray. And for what? A dumb bet."
That would be Spike's cue to slap one hand on his chest, bat his sooty lashes and coo 'Why Xander, I didn't know you cared.' Or something like that. But instead Spike studies his own shoes and scratches his eyebrow with his thumbnail, before glancing up, wicked smile and evil glint fleetingly brushed aside by an almost sheepish grin.
"Yeah well, whoever said I'm smart? If my decision making skills amounted to anything, you guys would've been blood on toast ages ago."
Okay, that isn't exactly front page news, but still. Flanked by the Spike's fable about that kiss, and framed by tonight's blatant glances, this tiny, unprecedented snippet of self-depreciation still stands out like a sore thumb.
Xander squints at the vampire. "Who are you? And what happened to the real Spike?"
TBC
snoopygirll, formerly untitled. I'm not sure if I'll keep the title, but 'untitled' I like even less....Still rough and unbeta'd.
TITLE: Cues and Balls
PAIRING: Spike/Xander
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: S7
SUMMARY: Xander, Spike, the Bronze
Part 1 is here
Part 2 is here
***************************************
Part 2 ended like this:
"I'm gonna win this game, even if it's the last thing I do. And nothing you'll do or say will stop me, not even your entertaining but completely fabricated little fable."
"Nothing? You willing to bet on that?" Spike asks.
Part 3
If Xander's alarm bells weren't clamoring already they'd go off now. He's seen what Spike gets up to when there's something at stake, had a front row seat during the crazy summer of Buffy's death, when they were … well, not friends but something-other-than-enemies.
"Oh no. No betting," Xander tells him emphatically.
"Why not? Spices things up a bit. A hundred quid say there's no way you're going to win this game…."
"Since when do you have any money?"
"Since none of your business."
Maybe it's a British thing, maybe it's sheer obstinacy - of which Spike obviously has more than a fair share - but when it comes to a wager there's nothing Spike won't stoop to. No trick too low, no stunt too foolhardy….
"Spike, I'm not betting against you. Ever."
Spike snorts. "Afraid I'll distract you with my wicked wiles?"
"As if you wouldn't try."
"Oh please. Besides, even if I did, what's the worst that could happen?"
"Uh…." Xander swallows, as a tantalizing worst-case scenario worms itself under his skin: Spike's hands tugging on his clothes, slipping under his shirt and dipping underneath the waistband of Xander's pants…. Guh!
Spike gives him a heavy-lidded look that is entirely too knowing. "Chicken." It turns into a slow, languid once-over, gliding over Xander's body like an ice-cube over hot skin, leaving goose-bumps and a hard-on in its wake.
It's not like Spike hasn't done this before, three centuries ago or so, while usurping Xander's basement, turning on the innuendo and doing that… that goose-bumpy thing with his eyes to make Xander fluster. It's a normal part of Spike's repertoire of mind games, along with calling him loser-boy and making digs about Xander's inability to hold a job longer than a few weeks. But it's never before been so unequivocal.
Xander's response lies somewhere between a determined head-shake, supposed to shake off the disturbing effect Spike is having on him, and a breathless shudder. He licks his suddenly parched lips. "Spike, for the last time: I'm not betting against you. I've seen the things you do to win."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Remember that one time you set your hand on fire?" Xander asks, trying to steer the conversation away from the pitfalls that have opened up all around him. "For two hundred bucks?"
"Oh that." Spike says with a dismissive shrug. He pops a few peanuts into his mouth.
"Yeah that."
"I won, didn't I? Been on fire before. Knew I could handle three seconds."
"You were so drunk you were barely able to count. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about the fact that you should have staked that vamp right away, instead of suggesting that stupid bet."
"And dust all that lovely cash he'd been waving around? A vamp's gotta live as well, you know."
It is a old argument, comfortable like a pair of well-worn slippers, harking back to simpler times. Xander follows the script to the letter: "If you hadn't warned him about your presence it wouldn't have take you three tries to stake him. You almost ended up in an ashtray. And for what? A dumb bet."
That would be Spike's cue to slap one hand on his chest, bat his sooty lashes and coo 'Why Xander, I didn't know you cared.' Or something like that. But instead Spike studies his own shoes and scratches his eyebrow with his thumbnail, before glancing up, wicked smile and evil glint fleetingly brushed aside by an almost sheepish grin.
"Yeah well, whoever said I'm smart? If my decision making skills amounted to anything, you guys would've been blood on toast ages ago."
Okay, that isn't exactly front page news, but still. Flanked by the Spike's fable about that kiss, and framed by tonight's blatant glances, this tiny, unprecedented snippet of self-depreciation still stands out like a sore thumb.
Xander squints at the vampire. "Who are you? And what happened to the real Spike?"
TBC
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no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 05:55 am (UTC)no subject
no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 05:55 am (UTC)"I won, didn't I? Been on fire before. Knew I could handle three seconds."
"You were so drunk you were barely able to count. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about the fact that you should have staked that vamp right away, instead of suggesting that stupid bet."
"And dust all that lovely cash he'd been waving around? A vamp's gotta live as well, you know."
Thank you!
no subject
I'm not normally comedy girl, so if this works I'm pleased.
Cheers.
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Date: 2003-08-18 05:56 am (UTC)Gotta go to work now ::pouts::
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Date: 2003-08-18 06:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 08:23 am (UTC)Hope you don't expect too much. I'm just fooling around...
Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying this... :-)
no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 08:35 am (UTC)Thanks
*kicks muse* So writing is slow...
Took me ages to get this into the shape I wanted.
I'm glad you're enjoying this.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 06:40 am (UTC)It turns into a slow, languid once-over, gliding over Xander's body like an ice-cube over hot skin, leaving goose-bumps and a hard-on in its wake.
Meep!
And there's going to be more hee-hee-hee - I'm a happy puppy!
Did I mention I'm loving this?
no subject
I'm glad you're happy with your story. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to get to the you-know-what...
The boys are kind of dictating the course of it, not me. Well, we'll see what happens.
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Date: 2003-08-18 09:26 pm (UTC)Aw sweetie don't feel you need to! I'll love whichever direction the boys take it. *hugs story* Mine! :)
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Date: 2003-08-18 06:50 am (UTC)Self-deprecating Spike is delicious...and I would wager that Xander feels the same way!
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Date: 2003-08-18 08:47 am (UTC)Thank you. *smiles*
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Date: 2003-08-18 08:08 am (UTC)& ;-)
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Date: 2003-08-18 08:49 am (UTC)Sorry. I'm writing as fast as my muse will let me.
Which, admittedly isn't exactly at light speed right now. *sigh*
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Date: 2003-08-18 08:25 am (UTC)But instead Spike studies his own shoes and scratches his eyebrow with his thumbnail, before glancing up, wicked smile and evil glint fleetingly brushed aside by an almost sheepish grin.
"Yeah well, whoever said I'm smart? If my decision making skills amounted to anything, you guys would've been blood on toast ages ago."
Xander squints at the vampire. "Who are you? And what happened to the real Spike?"
no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 08:51 am (UTC)Yay. Thank you. I'm always worried that my humor is a bit... teutonic. We don't have a reputation for funny. I always feel I have to work hard for a good laugh.
So, I'm very happy it's working. :-)
no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 08:29 am (UTC)Cheers
Date: 2003-08-18 08:44 am (UTC)Probably tomorrow.
busy busy busy.
Thanks.
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Date: 2003-08-18 08:34 am (UTC)I've never heard of a hundred bob though, ten bob, yep, but not a hundred, so I got a bit jerked out of the story a tad. Sorry to be a pain in the neck English girl.
no subject
Thanks.
My British English is getting rusty. *Sigh* I miss London so much, but accomodation is so darn expensive!
Anyway, thanks for pointing out mistakes. I appreciate it. You're not a pain in the neck, dear. Rest assured. :-)
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Date: 2003-08-18 08:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 09:33 am (UTC)blood on toast ages ago.
LOL
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Date: 2003-08-18 10:17 am (UTC)Thank you very much. :-)
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Date: 2003-08-18 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 03:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-18 03:27 pm (UTC)Thank you! Now, what's next? Inquiring minds demand an answer!
Cheers
:-) thanks for letting me know.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-19 03:51 am (UTC)*gibble* meep *gibble* meep *sigh*
*happy*
no subject
Date: 2003-08-19 04:46 pm (UTC):-)
Thanks for feeding me back, Mys. :-)
no subject
Date: 2003-08-19 11:48 pm (UTC)That simple looking line went through a zillion re-writes
hell, don't I know that *snicker*
but it's really so perfect now... makes me all mushy and aww to picture Spike standing there like that *sigh*