Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
AN1: These are again based in the baby!vamp!Xander 'verse but all you need to know is that Spike turned Xander and they're happily enjoying unlife as sex-crazed demons.
AN2: The link above actually goes to my b!v!x tag page, where all the relevant drabbles are presented as sequential posts in my journal, as the memory function seems to have permanent hiccups.
He watches as she valiantly tries to defeat the Aurelius demons - she has others but he knows she relies on him at times like this.
She's fighting not one, not two, but three of the men who lived within her heart, and the pain she's feeling has to be intense. Yet all he can do is wait, and watch his second slayer die - at the hands, the fists, the fangs of the same clan who took the first.
Somehow he doubts he'll ever fit the grip of another Chosen to be the one in all the world.
Mr Pointy has retired.
Wild hair. Tangled limbs. Dreams of sharing the magic in their veins, in their eyes.
Dru twirls, picturing her childe-to-be - the two of them as pretty as a pair of china dolls.
She wants to hurt the Kitten.
Dru stops dancing.
She wants to hurt the Kitten. Just like she hurt Daddy.
Words she's heard, from Daddy, from Spike, and even from his Kitten, but now Miss Edith's said them they make sense.
Suddenly the little tree seems gnarled and black with spite. Poisonous berries hidden amongst the leaves.
Now Dru wants to share a very different kind of bite.
The Luckiest Zippo
All things considered, it's a pretty good life - as much fuel as he can drink, he's never dry. A new wick every month or so, whether he needs it or not - the tiniest hint of fraying and it's gone.
The blood? Well, okay, that took some getting used to. But after the first few years he hardly noticed. It wasn't like he was swimming in it, it was always wiped off quick - maybe a bit of a polish on a denim-covered thigh.
And now he's shared between them he's better loved than ever.
He's got it sweet.
The Short Sad Life of a Pyrex Dildo
Sex games are all very well in moderation, but apparently vampires don't know when to stop. A month ago he was flawless, not a bubble to his name, not a crack, a chip, a speck to mar his beauty and his shine.
But during that one month he's been put to work intensively - he's visited bowls of almost-boiling water, and of ice - most worryingly, both within the hour.
He's been sat on, ridden, spanked and quite horribly abused. He can feel the minute stress fractures encroaching by the second. He knows, despite his lifetime guarantee, he'll never last the year.