Title: Edited Out
Feedback: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Concrit: by email, please
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Notes: Both set in S7.
They ran for blocks, only stopping when Xander was ready to collapse from lack of breath. As he panted his way back to something approaching consciousness, Spike leaned against the wall beside him, absently stroking the collar of the coat they'd stripped off R.J.
"Bet you would have kissed the Watcher to get hold of a toy like this when you were at school, eh, Harris?"
Xander turned his head and watched in mounting horror as Spike slid first one arm and then the other into the spelled jacket. Spike was... So. Damn. Hot.
Spike cornered Andrew in the kitchen after dinner, making sure that no one was around to overhear.
"You think I didn't know you were on the stairs the other night, with that irritating camera in your hand? Think I couldn't hear you, smell you playing with yourself, while me and Harris shared a little comfort? If a single bloody frame ever sees the light of day, I swear I'll make you wish you could change places with that mate Red killed. There's worse that can be done to a man than peeling him alive. I know. I've done it all."