Funfetti
"Have you ever been comically bitch-slapped by a six-armed goddess?"
"What? Spike, what are you on?" Xander asked with as much dignity as he could, while pulling himself up from the mud he'd been forced to take a nose-dive into.
"Hmm. What?" Spike asked distractedly. "Heh. Sorry. Mind was somewhere else."
"Yeah, maybe like in someone else's body?"
"So, you think I'm stupid? That it?" Spike gave an indignant snort. "Just having myself an epiphany. Reminded me of the time Dru hooked up with this six-armed sex goddess." He looked off with a dreamy smile.
"So," Pause. "That's it? You're not going to tell me what you're blathering on about? Not that I want to hear about the sex. Well, I do, but not if it involves you cause, um, eww."
"Thanks, pet. I appreciate the commentary. You have to earn an explanation now," he scowled. "By the way, what's on your face? You didn't tell me we're going to a girly party. You brought the mud mask, I would have brought the nail polish," his expression transforming to a smirk.
"I don't want to know. I just don't want to know. . . I'm covered in mud because some idiotwasn't paying attention to what he was spouting, or where his undead hands were flying, and knocked me off of the sidewalk."
"Was too paying attention," Spike mumbled, slightly abashed.
"Oh, yeah? Then why'd you knock me all over the place and get mud all over my favorite shirt?"
"Epiphany. Remember?" Spike all but yelled, while trying to figure out the patterns, under the mud, on Xander's shirt.
"Oh, right. What are you doing?"
"Wow, I haven't seen that many colors since the trip Dru and I took in the 60's with the skiing elephants," was Spike's distracted answer.
"Um, Spike. What the hell are you talking about? Elephants don't ski." Xander was just getting more confused by the sexy (no! shut up!) vampire closely inspecting somewhere around his belly button. Admittedly, that was just about the only spot on the frontof his shirt not covered with mud. He wasn't about to mention the back.
Spike looked at him like he was speaking in tongues. "If you've never seen an elephant ski then you've never been on acid. . .Oi, what am I talking about. 'Course you've never been on acid." His confusion vanished in a matter of seconds. "Not Mr. Better Than Everyone. Nooo. Pro'lly never even smoked a joint or drank a beer."
By the end of his little tirade, Spike was nose to nose with Xander and panting. Xander's eyes were getting rounder by the second. They were close enough that he could feel Spike's cool breath ghost across his lips. "First you wanna kill me, now you wanna kiss me. Blow!" With a slight shudder he weakly attempted to push Spike away.
"Okay," Was wispered huskily.
His breath caught in his throat when Spike slid the back of his fingers across Xander's zipper.
"Jesus!"
"Where?"
"Not funny and not nice. Leave me alone, Spike." The words held more heat than he actually felt and Spike knew it.
"Gimme some sugar, baby. . ." Spike slid his hand around from the zipper to cup Xander's ass.
"Oh, god! How did you know?"
"Know what, pet?" was asked with an innocent face that wouldn't have fooled anyone except, aparently, Xander when under stress.
"You didn't know? Oh, god. I'm. . .shit," Xander closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears. "I'm gone. I'm not here anymore. No one can see me. I'm dead."
"You're not dead."
"I'm not?" He didn't sound too surprised, but still let out a heated, "Fuck!"
"Mmm. Okay," Spike drawled seductively.
A bunch of gibberish seemed to flow from Xander's mouth. The only word that resembled anything coherent was, "Bobbert."
"Eh? What was that, pet?" Spike asked while giving the cupped cheek a squeeze. Xander started to turn colors that matched his shirt. "Do you need to lie down? We're not too far from my crypt." The color deepened. Figuring he needed to get him to relax before his head exploded, Spike let go of the cupped cheek and offered, "I even have cake."
"Chocolate?" Xander asked with a whole new brand of excitement, his face returning to a color more typically associated with humans.
"Er, well. Actually its. . .furfemenni," Spike responded, taking an embarassed step back.
"Really? I've never heard of that kind," Xander said in an innocent voice. "I have heard of Funfetti, though. 'Course that couldn't possibly be what you said, 'cause then I'd have to make fun of you," Xander looked at him eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Spike glared crossly for a moment, before getting a wicked gleam in his eye. He knew what the whelp was upset about before. He'd known for a while that the boy was attracted to him. It was just while walking along with him, letting his mind wander, that Spike realized the feeling was mutual.
"You know, the frosting's not on it yet. I have a whole can of chocolate frosting just waiting to be spread. Even have a packet of sprinkles to put on top. You want to do the honors?"
"Hmmm. Decisions, decisions. Of course! I get to lick the extra, right?"
"Lick whatever you want. Now you have one more thing to decide," Spike said as they entered the crypt. He motioned over to the cooled cake, that was sitting on a plate on the stone coffin doubling as a table, with a tilt of his head. At Xander's curious look he gestured to his chest, through an unbuttoned shirt, with one hand and the cake with the other. "Where do you want to put the frosting?"
At Xander's raised eyebrow, he responded with, "Cake or Death?"
Some time later -
Heard from outside the crypt by a very confused, newly risen minion.
"Are you Sancho? I do not think so. No, I am Sancho."
"Yes, but what makes you more qualified than the others hoping for this position?"
"I am Sancho. . .On your knees, vamp!"
In his confusion the minion tripped over a loose board from his own wooden coffin and impaled himself on it through the heart.
Fin
Okay. I have no idea what most of this stuff is supposed to mean. The whole thing is just too silly for words. If you're still here, thank you for staying through the whole thing. It was actually very therapeutic. I was in an extremely foul mood, but I'm feeling much better now.
Challenge requirements:
Not much to this challenge. All you have to do is include as many of these randomly chosen quotes into a story as you can:
-"Have you ever been comically bitch-slapped by a six-armed goddess?"
-"You're not dead."
"I'm not?"
-"Cake or Death?"
-"If you've never seen an elephant ski then you've never been on acid..."
-"Are you Sancho? I do not think so. No, I am Sancho."
"Yes, but what makes you more qualified then the others hoping for this position?"
"I am Sancho..."
-"Jesus!"
"Where?"
-"First you wanna kill me, now you wanna kiss me. Blow!"
-"Gimme some sugar, baby..."
-"Bobbert."
Originally posted at