General Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Authors Note: This work is brought to you by peppymint on account of that my brain doesn't have a freaking off switch. As it is, I have enough plunnies under S&S to keep me busy for a decade. If you haven't read those, you will probably be confused as these are based off them. And I come up with new ones all the time, though thankfully I don't write them all down. Anyway, as some of you may be aware, one of my self imposed rules is that I only work on one multi-chapter story at a time. My drabble collections do not count. However, I am constantly beset by scenes from my other unwritten stories. So, I have decided to jot a few of them down. Both for your entertainment and future reference. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget, if you want to adopt a plunnie and take it home, all you have to do is ask.

18: Child of Aurelius

The two master vampires stood silently over the makeshift crib, regarding the bright eyed creature within. One of them wondering how the hell he had gotten himself into this situation. He was William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, and hardly fit to be the guardian to a human child. At the same time though, he knew better than to ignore one of Dru's visions.

Spike snorted, starting to light up a cigarette before abruptly changing his mind. He had heard somewhere the smoke was bad for mortals. Probably better not to take chances. It occurred to him at this point they didn't even know their charge's name. A matter that would have to be rectified.

"Harold," Drusilla spoke in a singsong voice. That her companion had not voiced the thought aloud was hardly an issue. "Harold James Potter after his Father and Grandfather." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "A nasty common name." She turned to look at Spike. "Miss. Edith says his Mother called him Harry."

"Well then," the bleached blond said, sliding around his lover sensuously to pick up the infant, settling the boy on his shoulder and beginning a half-forgotten bouncing motion from his youth. "We will just have to change it then." It wasn't as though the action was without precedent in their line. "How about Hadrian?" he asked, taking the cue that his dark princess wanted to keep the nickname.

Dru shook her head.

"Haru? Herne? Harrison?" Spike threw out a few more suggestions, all of which were met with rejection.

"Harridan," the seer spoke abruptly, cutting him off. "His name will be Harridan."

The slender vampire raised one scarred eyebrow. Harridan? He had to wonder if she had come up with the name on a whim or if his Dru had seen something. It was at this moment that the infant spit up. Leaving a milky while residue all over his favorite leather jacket.

Slowly, Spike inhaled, reining in his temper. Nope he decided, returning Harridan to his crib. Definitely an omen. This little one was going to be a holy terror.

36: A Clean Slate

"I am certain you will make a fine addition to the team Lindsey," the man said his smile reminiscent of a shark's. He reached out to shake the younger lawyer's hand. "And let me be the first to welcome you to Wolfram and Hart."

The fourteen year old awoke with a gasp, eyes searching for the figure who had been with him for as long as he could remember. The one no one else could see. "You signed away our soul?" he demanded. Only the presence of his Mother and little sister down the hall keeping his voice under control.

Lindsey, or rather the memory of him, shrugged a bit self consciously. "I thought it was a joke. A gag for the new guy at the office." By the time he had found out just how serious that clause was it was it was far too late. It had been too late the moment he had put down the pen.

"You sold our soul," the teenager repeated, still in shock. How could the other/him/them? Aw to heck with it, trying to figure out the proper pronoun made his head hurt. How could Lindsey have done such a thing?

"Eliot!" the lawyer said sharply. "Snap out of it. You have nothing to worry about."

"How can you say that?" his slightly distorted mirror image hissed, throwing the bedcovers off. "You sold our soul."

A smirk crossed the apparition's face. It was an expression more than one legal opponent had seen right before their case dropped out from under him. "No," he corrected. "Lindsey McDonald sold his soul. But in case you missed the memo, he doesn't exist any more."

Eliot's face began to take on its normal hue. "You mean . . ."

"Yes," his imaginary friend answered simply, holding the expression a moment before it shifted into a more mischievous look. "Remind me to explain it to you sometime." He himself had been created before the flesh and blood version of Lindsey McDonald had gone through with the plan. But that didn't mean he was unaware of what it was.

38: Not So Normal

The young man gave a brief sigh of relief as Dawn vanished, taken away be the transportation potion he had given her. He couldn't allow himself to relax however, quickly turning his attention back to the battle.

Spike was down for the count. Most of the others not that much better off. Only he and Buffy remained on their feet. Xander had no illusions. He had power in his own right, in spite of that fact he chose not to advertise it, even to his friends. But Glory was a god. He didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of stopping her on his own.

But then, the witch knew, he didn't have to. All he had to do was weaken her. That would be enough. It would have to be enough. Xander winced as the Slayer took a particularly nasty blow, staggering backwards. If he was going to do something, it had better be now.

Sending up a silent prayer for any higher power that happened to be listening, the young man started to chant. They needed all the help they could get.

I call upon the ancient power

To aid us in this, our most desperate hour

Xander could feel the magic, his birthright. No matter how unusual his birth had been as the unauthorized child of one of Melinda Warren's descendants and a whitelighter. A male at that. However, he knew it wasn't enough. Fortunately, he had other means at his disposal.

Hear me matriarchs of my line

Heirs to powers both damned and divine

Mentally crossing his fingers, the young man spoke the next line.

Witches, tried bold and true

Blood to blood I call on you

Resisting the urge to sigh in relief as he felt the power build, Xander continued the spell. He had never attempted to reach out to his ancestors before, and to be honest hadn't been entirely certain they would answer. His grandmother wasn't the only one who disliked men.

Bless the champion of darkness and light

Help her stand firm against evil's might

Buffy seemed to gain a second wind, knocking Glory's feet out from under her. She spun around, slamming the troll hammer into the hell goddess's face. It was a beautiful sight to those watching the battle.

Bind the Beast deep within

Let the human spirit win

A broad grin spread across Xander's lips as Glory's image flickered to be replaced by that of Ben's. It had only been for a moment, but it was working.

Let barriers between worlds be not broken

This heartfelt plea a witch has spoken

Dark eyes searched the sky, willing the enemy's window of opportunity to pass. Even without Dawn's presence, a fair bit of damage could be done. There was a reason Glory had chosen this night for her ritual. Xander gathered himself for the final lines, voice rising with exultation.

Aid me my sisters, the Charmed Ones prophesied

Give strength to this son of the Halliwell line