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Teaser Trailer!
Chapter Eighteen...
"Really?" Xander asked, and Spike straightened from his perusal of Wesley's 'fridge.
"Really, love. There's mustard and soy sauce and duck sauce and some...something green. And an egg but it's cracked and..." Spike shuddered delicately and opened the little door to the freezer that was inside the 'fridge. "And this. It's...it's..." Spike frowned - scraped impatiently at fuzzy ice crystals with his nails and then dug under the little cardboard box. It took actual vampiric strength to wrest it from the floor of the freezer compartment.
"It think it's a pot pie."
"Can't change the world, right?"
Xander grabbed a handful of ketchup packets and dropped them onto the little girl's tray. With fish filets. *And good thing Spike isn't here to see the fried fish with ketchup show.* He dropped a packet of vinegar onto her tray too - to appease the gods of fish and chips. "That all?"
"What happened to your eye?"
Script changed, Xander stared back. "Huh?"
"Fuck humans. Change the world one fucking corpse at a time, love."
"This is bigger than just a few demons in some back room, you know," Angel said, and Spike couldn't stop the snort of amusement that puffed out of his nose. Angel shook his head - tapped the papers back into true and slipped them back into the folder. "It's Wolfram and Hart big and... And I want the two of you out of it."
"I am human."
An hour on, they'd driven past houses too big and houses too small. Houses owned by famous people Xander had never heard of. Then: "See that office up there?"
"Yeah." Xander looked in the direction their rental agent was pointing and saw a lot of offices. Brand new offices. Classy old offices. Some of them covered in so much ivy they looked like gigantic chia pets.
"There's a doctor up there who has a team of specialists from Hollywood. They've done things to people - he told me they had Nicole Kidman up there, fixing some sun-damage. Can you believe it? And - he's got prosthetic specialists, too. Remember when Mark Hamill was hurt? They put him back, good as new. He could fix that damage - nobody would suspect a thing, I guarantee it."
Xander stared at the agent and felt the names wash over him in a tide of huh? and 'what? and then it clicked and he almost choked on the word "Damage?"
"It's not bad. It's...you."
Xander's cell phone rang - tinny and small performance of Rebel Yell.
Spike groaned softly, shaking his head. "I do not look like Billy Idol, you wanker," he muttered. But fuck - it was better than cowboys.
Enjoy!
ETA:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
txrabbit asked so nice, i had to post another little S/X ficlet in the comments. Heh.
Chapter Eighteen...
"Really?" Xander asked, and Spike straightened from his perusal of Wesley's 'fridge.
"Really, love. There's mustard and soy sauce and duck sauce and some...something green. And an egg but it's cracked and..." Spike shuddered delicately and opened the little door to the freezer that was inside the 'fridge. "And this. It's...it's..." Spike frowned - scraped impatiently at fuzzy ice crystals with his nails and then dug under the little cardboard box. It took actual vampiric strength to wrest it from the floor of the freezer compartment.
"It think it's a pot pie."
"Can't change the world, right?"
Xander grabbed a handful of ketchup packets and dropped them onto the little girl's tray. With fish filets. *And good thing Spike isn't here to see the fried fish with ketchup show.* He dropped a packet of vinegar onto her tray too - to appease the gods of fish and chips. "That all?"
"What happened to your eye?"
Script changed, Xander stared back. "Huh?"
"Fuck humans. Change the world one fucking corpse at a time, love."
"This is bigger than just a few demons in some back room, you know," Angel said, and Spike couldn't stop the snort of amusement that puffed out of his nose. Angel shook his head - tapped the papers back into true and slipped them back into the folder. "It's Wolfram and Hart big and... And I want the two of you out of it."
"I am human."
An hour on, they'd driven past houses too big and houses too small. Houses owned by famous people Xander had never heard of. Then: "See that office up there?"
"Yeah." Xander looked in the direction their rental agent was pointing and saw a lot of offices. Brand new offices. Classy old offices. Some of them covered in so much ivy they looked like gigantic chia pets.
"There's a doctor up there who has a team of specialists from Hollywood. They've done things to people - he told me they had Nicole Kidman up there, fixing some sun-damage. Can you believe it? And - he's got prosthetic specialists, too. Remember when Mark Hamill was hurt? They put him back, good as new. He could fix that damage - nobody would suspect a thing, I guarantee it."
Xander stared at the agent and felt the names wash over him in a tide of huh? and 'what? and then it clicked and he almost choked on the word "Damage?"
"It's not bad. It's...you."
Xander's cell phone rang - tinny and small performance of Rebel Yell.
Spike groaned softly, shaking his head. "I do not look like Billy Idol, you wanker," he muttered. But fuck - it was better than cowboys.
Enjoy!
ETA:
txrabbit asked so nice, i had to post another little S/X ficlet in the comments. Heh.
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