Donut Stealing Imps
Title: Donut Stealing Imps
Pairing: Pre Spike/Xander
Rating: PG. It's all innuendo and bad puns.
Beta: None. Again with the probable embarrassment once I look at this later and find all the mistakes.
Summary: This is a follow up to Exhaustion and Temporary Insanity. There's no real plot to them, they're just fun to write.
“Spike, you good for nothing vamp, you’re going to pay for this one!”
“You messed with Passions, Whelp. Did you really expect me to roll over and do nothing?”
“Holes Spike! In my underwear! You cut holes, in every single pair of underwear I own! You don’t think that’s a little extreme? Besides, you messed with my cereal!”
“...”
“Why are you looking at me like that? You did!”
“What that entire sentence one giant ‘But you started it’?”
“What? No, well, maybe. I mean, you did! Stop changing the subject, you cut holes in my underwear!”
“Got proof of that do you?”
“Again with the proof?! I don’t see anyone else here and there’s no such thing as an underwear thieving, hole cutting fairy.”
“Actually...”
“Oh no you don’t. You almost got me with that story about donut stealing imps, but you’re not going to get me with this one!”
“Hmm, feel that way if you want. Had you going with the imps for a while there though.”
...
“Jesus, Fangless! Were you trying to take out the entire demon population in one night?!”
“That the thanks I get for saving your flabby arse?”
“I’ll say thank you later, right now I’m mad. Why the hell did you jump in front of it like that? Another inch and you’d be potting mix.”
“Oh put it away, Whelp, I’m tired.”
“Right, ok. Blood for you, then bandages to stop it from coming back out again. Oh man.”
“Cheers, pet.”
“What the - Spike what are you doing?!”
“What does it look like I’m doing, moron? There’s no way I can lift my arms enough to get this sodding thing over my head so I’m cutting it off.”
“What? But, why?”
“You do remember that demon we just killed, don’t you? My insides are feeling a little drafty at the moment and I’d rather get the grit out before it starts to heal.”
“Oh, right. Of course. I thought you were, uh. Nevermind, here’s your blood, I’ll grab the medkit.”
“Ta.”
“...”
“Would you stop looking at me like that, Harris. I’m not about to steal your dubious innocence.”
“Careful, Spike. Your education is showing.”
“Yeah well, so’s my liver. Get on with it would you?”
“All hail fake-soldier memories and their basic medic training.”
“Eh! When were you a bloody soldier.”
“Long story, now hold still.”
“Bloody hell! Ow! You did that on purpose.”
“Shut up you big cry vamp.”
...
“Xander!”
“Willow! How’s the witchiest witch of witchdom?”
“Spellin’. What are you doing with a box full of... blood?”
“Big demon, Spike doing his best impression of a pincushion. All bow before the mighty power of Super Nurse Xander! Able to talk suspicious butchers into selling large quantities of blood without seeming like a weird serial killer living in his mum’s basement in a single breath!”
“But you do live in your mum’s basement. And I suppose technically you could say Spike’s the serial killer. Do you think some serial killers were actually vampires, or demons at least?”
“You know I wouldn’t be too surprised. Though humans can be pretty damn freaky on our own, so maybe not.”
“I bet it would make an interesting study. Not that you’d ever find any records if they really were demons. Hey, not all of that is from the butchers! Xander Harris, tell me you did not steal from the blood bank?”
“Willow! Of course I didn’t! One of the perks of working just about every job in this town; I know a guy who knows a guy. He gave me all the stuff they couldn’t use. Nothing that would affect Spike, but enough that it’s impossible for them to use it in a transplant, or something. I got a bit confused when he started talking about white blood cell counts.”
“Oh, well in that case, score one for the good guys?”
“That’s how I’m looking at it. Hey, I got to get going. Could you tell Giles I can’t make it to the Scooby meeting tonight?”
“Sure, tell Spike I said uh... get better?”
“Will do, though I might leave off the confused tone.”
“Good plan, bye Xan.”
...
“The glorious hunter returns!”
“Sodding hell, it took you long enough.”
“No, no, Spike. There’s no need to thank me for patching you up and spending my hard earned money on blood, which I’m sure not going to drink. Really, your gratitude is too much.”
“Hmm. Did a pretty good job on the stitches actually.”
“Guess pseudo memories are good for some things. Hey, I got you a present.”
“If it’s more tabasco laced blood, no thanks.”
“Nah, no tricks, I promise. Just hang on a sec.”
“No tricks from the self proclaimed “joke master”? Yeah, alright.”
“Hey, I said I promise, ok? Now here.”
“You got me human.”
“I was angling for something along the lines of a ‘thanks’ but yeah, sure, we’ll call that close enough. Hey, I’m going to crash.”
“Right then. Shove over.”
“Huh? What, why? No!”
“Oh get off it already. I’m sodding tired, there’s only one bed, and I can feel the breeze on my bloody kidneys.”
“That’s being a little melodramatic don’t you think?”
“Says the man clutching the sheet to him like I’m going to steal his modesty. Shove. Over.”
“Can’t you at least put a shirt on or something?”
“Worried you can’t resist me?”
“That is not what I meant and you know it.”
“Ha! Maybe I’m the one who should be worried about stolen innocence, mate. There something you haven’t told me?”
“Oh for - You’re not going to give up are you?”
“Not a chance.”
“Fine, get in. But watch your hands!”
“Worried you’ll lose control and ravish me if I touch you, Harris?”
“You just make everything sound dirty don’t you?”
“It’s a gift.”
...
“Whelp?”
“Mph wha’ ‘ike?”
“It’s sodding freezing in here.”
“Umpire stuffing glug off.”
“What?”
“I said, vampire suffering blood loss. I’m going to deny this in the morning.”
“Deny what - hey! Watch your hands.”
“Would you shut up and lie still. Look, warm hands.”
“Right. Denial in the morning?”
“That’s the plan.”
“That case, shift your leg a little, yeah?”
“Like..?”
“No, just -”
“Ah ok. Lift your head a sec -”
“Bloody hell!”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, you’re just... surprisingly warm.”
“It’s a gift.”
“Ponce. So, denial in the morning?”
“Still the plan.”
“Do a bloke a favour and make it afternoon?”
“Sure.”