Title: Lessons in Unliving
Fandom: Pairing: Buffy: Spike/Xander
Rating: R
Words: 3x100
Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com. If you spot a typo, please feel free to tell me in comments. I want you to!
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: baby!vamp!Xander
Summary: Xander is learning how to be a damn good vampire.
Notes: These can be read as a standalone set of drabbles, but are also a part of the baby!vamp!Xander 'verse. Written for
mini_wrimo day 10, and also for my Spander Big Damn Table.70. Music
The club is dark, the music raucous, the lyrics incomprehensible. The crowd is wild and smells of blood, sex and violence.
It's perfect.
The Bloody Angels aren't the Pistols or the Clash but they'll do, for now. They're popular enough to bring the pretty things running, and groupies always did taste sweeter than the average brat - more drugs, more junk food, and so damn eager to please anyone who dangles the promise of a backstage pass.
Spike watches with pride as Xander charms a brace of newly dyed and pierced goths. Fresh meat, not yet jaded by rejection - Spike's favourite flavour.
54. Hearing
Xander pressed closer and closed his eyes in concentration. When he re-opened them, Spike was nose-to-nose with him, a gleeful grin showing off a mouth full of razor sharp fangs.
"That's disgusting, Spike!"
"That's nature, Xan - clever, but lousy at subterfuge. If it's not the heart ticking away like a time bomb, it's the stomach shouting 'Here I am! Come and get me!' 'S what's called 'borborygmus'." Spike chose to impart weird knowledge at the oddest of times. This was one of them.
The taut, tanned belly they were listening to twitched and trembled.
"Looks like dinner's waking up."
32. Elevator
A can of sardines oblivious to the sharks in their midst, that's how the elevator felt to Xander. It made him want to bring the ride to a jarring halt, to let his demon out and see the realisation dawn on their bland, uncaring faces.
The stench of blood and sex, of sweat and soap and scents clogged in his throat, almost gagging him. He ached to rend and tear, to revel in the carnage he'd wreak before the doors could be forced open.
When doors slid open of their own accord, Xander was trembling.
"It gets easier, luv, honest."
mini_nanowrimo running total: 4173 words, in 10 days