Conversation With a Mummy (in-Law)
Ahem! :Clears throat: A mod post and another daft Wedding from Hell ficlet to celebrate Halloween. First, the mod part, which is to announce that by popular vote, there's been a bit of a rule change here at sb_fag_ends and fics of up to 1000 words are now permitted.
And with that out of the way, here's yet another in my series of increasingly daft Wedding From Hell fics. Previous stories can be found here and (confusingly) the first story linked is the last one in the series. Until now.
Setting: Halloween, post-a totally bonkers AU version of BtVS season 4
Rating: PG-13 verging on R for a bit of suggestive naughtiness
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, mention of Joyce/Clem.
For the prompt Conversation With a Mummy - with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe
778 words
Conversation With a Mummy (in-Law)
"Hi, Spike." Joyce poked her head around the crypt door.
It was dark inside but through the gloom, she could just make out Spike's pale head, and rather more of his pale body than she was used to seeing, in the act of catapulting itself out of what looked like a very uncomfortable kneeling position on the floor, over the back of the old overstuffed couch in front of the TV and down behind it.
"Oh, don't get up," Joyce called, but there was no answer except for a sort of strangled yelp. She waited a moment, but just for once Spike seemed to have nothing at all to say for himself.
"I just dropped by to invite you two workaholics around for dinner," Joyce explained, to break the awkward silence. "Clem told me that vampires and demons have the night off on Halloween, so I figured that should mean Buffy doesn't have to go out slaying."
Spike's head poked up from behind the couch. "How nice," he said, in a stilted, un-Spike-like voice.
Joyce frowned and came a step further into the crypt. "Are you okay? Where's Buffy?"
"I'm fine." Spike was smiling a fake smile to go with his fake voice. "As for the Slayer, we're out of blood so she just popped down the shops. Looks after me, she does."
"That's very thoughtful of her." Joyce peered more closely at Spike. He'd come out of hiding just enough for her to see his bare shoulders and neck.
"What's that you're wearing? It looks like some sort of collar."
Spike's hand flew to his neck. "This thing?" he said, in a strangled voice. "It's…it's… part of my Halloween costume."
"Oh?" Joyce took another step closer. "But I thought you didn't do Halloween?"
"Oh, I don't, I don't," Spike agreed. "But gotta please the missus, haven't I? If Buffy wants to dress up and go trick or treatin', gotta go along with it."
"That's very supportive of you." Joyce smiled at him. "Can I see?"
Spike glanced over his shoulder, as if he thought she might be talking to someone else. "See what?"
"Your costume of course. Stand up and show me."
Spike's eyes darted from left to right, looking for an escape route. "Not sure that's a good idea."
"Oh, don't be silly." Joyce closed the final distance between them and peered over the back of the couch, while Spike froze in place, looking hunted. "Oh my."
"'Course," Spike said, still in the strangled voice. "Not goin' out like this. Got some trousers somewhere."
"Of course." Joyce cleared her throat. "You'd catch your death dressed like that - if you weren't dead already - not to mention get yourself arrested for indecent exposure. Who are you meant to be exactly?"
Spike hunched his knees closer to his chest, though that still left an awful lot of bare flesh on display. His mouth opened and closed. Then, his face cleared. "I'm Spartacus, Yeah, that's right. Spartacus. You know, that gladiator bloke?"
"Oh, I see." Joyce nodded her head sagely. "That explains the collar and chains."
"Right, right," Spike agreed. "And the oil."
Joyce straightened up. "And the whip, I suppose?"
"Whip?" Spike's voice came out a squeak this time. "Oh…er…that's part of Buffy's costume. She's being Xena Warrior Princess, see?"
"I most certainly do." Joyce gave him an arch smile and turned towards the door. "Well, I can see you two are busy, but if you change your minds, dinner is at 8, okay?"
"Okay," Spike said, brightly. "Ta-ta."
As the crypt door swung to behind Joyce, he sagged to the floor. "Bloody hell!"
Suddenly, Buffy's head poked up through the trap door that led to the lower crypt. "Has she gone?"
"Yeah." Spike hauled himself up. His legs were shaking, which set all the chains rattling.
"Quick thinking, honey, with that Halloween costume thing," Buffy said. "You totally fooled her."
"Not so sure about…" Spike began, but Buffy was frowning at him now. "I don't remember saying you could talk."
"Was a bit of an emergency. Your mum -"
Spike shut his mouth with a snap when Buffy held up her hand for silence.
"That's no excuse."
The vertiginous heels of her thigh-high leather boots clicked menacingly on the cold stone floor as she approached Spike, whip in hand.
"I don't remember telling you that you could get off your knees either," she half-growled, half-purred.
Spike shivered all over and hung his head. "Sorry, Slayer. Forgot."
Buffy tapped him fondly on the nose with the whip handle.
"Guess I'll have to punish you."
Spike hung his head lower, to hide his smirk. "Guess you will at that."
And with that out of the way, here's yet another in my series of increasingly daft Wedding From Hell fics. Previous stories can be found here and (confusingly) the first story linked is the last one in the series. Until now.
Setting: Halloween, post-a totally bonkers AU version of BtVS season 4
Rating: PG-13 verging on R for a bit of suggestive naughtiness
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, mention of Joyce/Clem.
For the prompt Conversation With a Mummy - with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe
778 words
Conversation With a Mummy (in-Law)
"Hi, Spike." Joyce poked her head around the crypt door.
It was dark inside but through the gloom, she could just make out Spike's pale head, and rather more of his pale body than she was used to seeing, in the act of catapulting itself out of what looked like a very uncomfortable kneeling position on the floor, over the back of the old overstuffed couch in front of the TV and down behind it.
"Oh, don't get up," Joyce called, but there was no answer except for a sort of strangled yelp. She waited a moment, but just for once Spike seemed to have nothing at all to say for himself.
"I just dropped by to invite you two workaholics around for dinner," Joyce explained, to break the awkward silence. "Clem told me that vampires and demons have the night off on Halloween, so I figured that should mean Buffy doesn't have to go out slaying."
Spike's head poked up from behind the couch. "How nice," he said, in a stilted, un-Spike-like voice.
Joyce frowned and came a step further into the crypt. "Are you okay? Where's Buffy?"
"I'm fine." Spike was smiling a fake smile to go with his fake voice. "As for the Slayer, we're out of blood so she just popped down the shops. Looks after me, she does."
"That's very thoughtful of her." Joyce peered more closely at Spike. He'd come out of hiding just enough for her to see his bare shoulders and neck.
"What's that you're wearing? It looks like some sort of collar."
Spike's hand flew to his neck. "This thing?" he said, in a strangled voice. "It's…it's… part of my Halloween costume."
"Oh?" Joyce took another step closer. "But I thought you didn't do Halloween?"
"Oh, I don't, I don't," Spike agreed. "But gotta please the missus, haven't I? If Buffy wants to dress up and go trick or treatin', gotta go along with it."
"That's very supportive of you." Joyce smiled at him. "Can I see?"
Spike glanced over his shoulder, as if he thought she might be talking to someone else. "See what?"
"Your costume of course. Stand up and show me."
Spike's eyes darted from left to right, looking for an escape route. "Not sure that's a good idea."
"Oh, don't be silly." Joyce closed the final distance between them and peered over the back of the couch, while Spike froze in place, looking hunted. "Oh my."
"'Course," Spike said, still in the strangled voice. "Not goin' out like this. Got some trousers somewhere."
"Of course." Joyce cleared her throat. "You'd catch your death dressed like that - if you weren't dead already - not to mention get yourself arrested for indecent exposure. Who are you meant to be exactly?"
Spike hunched his knees closer to his chest, though that still left an awful lot of bare flesh on display. His mouth opened and closed. Then, his face cleared. "I'm Spartacus, Yeah, that's right. Spartacus. You know, that gladiator bloke?"
"Oh, I see." Joyce nodded her head sagely. "That explains the collar and chains."
"Right, right," Spike agreed. "And the oil."
Joyce straightened up. "And the whip, I suppose?"
"Whip?" Spike's voice came out a squeak this time. "Oh…er…that's part of Buffy's costume. She's being Xena Warrior Princess, see?"
"I most certainly do." Joyce gave him an arch smile and turned towards the door. "Well, I can see you two are busy, but if you change your minds, dinner is at 8, okay?"
"Okay," Spike said, brightly. "Ta-ta."
As the crypt door swung to behind Joyce, he sagged to the floor. "Bloody hell!"
Suddenly, Buffy's head poked up through the trap door that led to the lower crypt. "Has she gone?"
"Yeah." Spike hauled himself up. His legs were shaking, which set all the chains rattling.
"Quick thinking, honey, with that Halloween costume thing," Buffy said. "You totally fooled her."
"Not so sure about…" Spike began, but Buffy was frowning at him now. "I don't remember saying you could talk."
"Was a bit of an emergency. Your mum -"
Spike shut his mouth with a snap when Buffy held up her hand for silence.
"That's no excuse."
The vertiginous heels of her thigh-high leather boots clicked menacingly on the cold stone floor as she approached Spike, whip in hand.
"I don't remember telling you that you could get off your knees either," she half-growled, half-purred.
Spike shivered all over and hung his head. "Sorry, Slayer. Forgot."
Buffy tapped him fondly on the nose with the whip handle.
"Guess I'll have to punish you."
Spike hung his head lower, to hide his smirk. "Guess you will at that."