Author's Notes: Expect mockery, both affectionate (re: Buffy) and otherwise (re: Twilight).


"Vamps that sparkle?" Buffy scoffed. "That's even more with the wacky than most vampire flicks. And if sunlight is so non-deadly, can't this guy make an effort to join the tanning movement?"

Angel looked at her strangely. "The sparkling is the aspect of this movie that has you most worried? Not the bit where a potentially dangerous centuries-old vampire is obsessed with stalking an underage girl down dark alleys and puts her life in danger? You know he's the type to watch her sleep without her knowing, right?"

"Um, seriously?" Buffy asked. "Pot. Kettle. I'd point you towards a mirror except for that thing where you don't actually reflect."

"You're not honestly comparing me to that melodramatic idiot?" Angel said.

"Well, you don't sparkle or pretend to be a high school student, thank god. Other than that..." Buffy teased.

Angel lapsed into a brooding silence, pretty much proving her point.