Title: Not Fighting or Fucking
Author: Angelus
E-mail: angelus1317@hotmail.com (Please put "Fighting" on the subject line. You *can't* put the full title, because if it has fuck in the subject line my computer won't let me open it.)
Subject: Angel
Category: SAR.
Rating: R for the one obvious bad word.
Summary: Spike and Angel...talking?
Spoilers: The one where Spike's being dragged into hell.
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: I don't own Spike & Angel. They belong to WGN and Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. If I owned them, they'd be shagging like bunnies and inviting me to join them.
Author's notes: It's a disease. The Drabble Disease. Saber, this is all your fault. I'm never gonna come to your website *ever again*.....Okay, so I'm lying, because I'm addicted to Seventh Slayer, but this is all your fault!
Dedication: To Saber, for inflicting me with the madness. I am going to skin you with a vegetable peeler, then lock you in a room and make you listen to Barney until your bloody head explodes. Got it?
~*~
There's something about sitting here next to him; about sitting here, talking. He doesn't think it's something they've ever done before. Their whole relationship, from siring to now, has been wholly about fighting or shagging. Now, unable to do either, they...talk.
Spike's shocked when Angel admits he liked his poetry. He must be the only one. Because of how bad it really is, Spike wonders if he's just saying it for his benefit. Either way, it's unexpectedly pleasant. It means they're getting somewhere, finally. It means someday, they won't need the pretense of fighting or fucking. Someday, they might be...friends.
Author: Angelus
E-mail: angelus1317@hotmail.com (Please put "Fighting" on the subject line. You *can't* put the full title, because if it has fuck in the subject line my computer won't let me open it.)
Subject: Angel
Category: SAR.
Rating: R for the one obvious bad word.
Summary: Spike and Angel...talking?
Spoilers: The one where Spike's being dragged into hell.
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: I don't own Spike & Angel. They belong to WGN and Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. If I owned them, they'd be shagging like bunnies and inviting me to join them.
Author's notes: It's a disease. The Drabble Disease. Saber, this is all your fault. I'm never gonna come to your website *ever again*.....Okay, so I'm lying, because I'm addicted to Seventh Slayer, but this is all your fault!
Dedication: To Saber, for inflicting me with the madness. I am going to skin you with a vegetable peeler, then lock you in a room and make you listen to Barney until your bloody head explodes. Got it?
~*~
There's something about sitting here next to him; about sitting here, talking. He doesn't think it's something they've ever done before. Their whole relationship, from siring to now, has been wholly about fighting or shagging. Now, unable to do either, they...talk.
Spike's shocked when Angel admits he liked his poetry. He must be the only one. Because of how bad it really is, Spike wonders if he's just saying it for his benefit. Either way, it's unexpectedly pleasant. It means they're getting somewhere, finally. It means someday, they won't need the pretense of fighting or fucking. Someday, they might be...friends.