Icon Drabble #1

For somefairytale. Inspiration from this icon. Buffyverse, G. Hope you like it, Emily.

Faith

The great expanse of desert rolls out before her like the sea: endless, moving so slightly and so constantly that you almost can’t tell it’s moving at all.

She comes here, in her dreams. For her, the realest borrowed dreams haven’t been the ones where other girls chosen like her fall the way she will fall; for her, the realest slayer dream is this one. She is stranded in the primeval’s desert, far from water, from any kind of soft thing or sweet touch.

She is alone, bearing nothing but her strongest weapon.

I have come with my mustard seed.

Icon Drabble #2

For lafemmedarla. Buffverse, PG-13, inspiration from the icon I'm sporting right now. Hope you like it; I'm not sure about how it came together, but I tried real hard, sweetie. MUAH.


Intervention

Buffy lay across her lap, spent. Faith leaned down and kissed her sweet mouth; the blonde moaned but after a moment fell away, exhausted. Faith let her rest against her chest, petted her until Buffy’s eyes fell closed.

Absently stroking Buffy’s cheek, Faith looked slowly around the room. All around her apartment, discarded shirts and delicate lingerie; deliciously naked and tangled together, Cordelia and Willow snored quietly on the bed.

“This is the best intervention ever,” Faith murmured.

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open; she glared petulantly. “Faith, you have a girl problem.”

Faith grinned. “I wouldn’t say it’s a problem, honey.”

Icon Drabbles #3 and #4

These two are both for the same icon, so I thought I'd post them at once . . . it's the amazingly yummy icon I'm using now, which was made by lafemmedarla, who rocks like a rocking thing. They're both Buffyverse; they're both PG or something. Nothing dirty, unfortunately. :P

The first one is for ladyoneill.

Wet Dreams

Angel’s skin glows florescent under the lights. He’s hurt, and he falls against the walls; his blood colors the tiles. With this, and the lights, he’s paler than anything.

The hot water pelts his shoulders; Angel hisses when long, gentle fingers run soap over his hard muscles. The pretense of cleaning him, but really to test the soundness of the flesh. Hisses, but arches into the touch, too.

Angel turns, eyes miles deep. “Glad you’re here, Spike. To take care of me.”

Spike wakes violently. There’s an uneasy heat on his belly, and the dream isn’t disappearing quickly enough.

Fuck.

---

This one is for thestranger1. It's sweeter, Buffy POV, third season.


Good Girls Knock

I went over to Angel’s on innocent grounds. Really! We were going to train, but then he wasn’t in the main hall, or the atrium, so I went looking for him. I heard noises in his bedroom –I had to investigate! But I forgot and just let myself in – no knocking, bad Buffy! – and there he was. There he was just out of the shower, all dripping and drying his hair so his towel was . . . by his head . . . not covering his . . . other parts . . .

Knock, Buffy! Good girls knock!