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SUMMARY: Rumours are flying. Set around Season Five, but disregards all canon past Season Four (except for the bits I like).
( “Hey, do you guys remember Buffy Summers?” )
( “Hey, do you guys remember Buffy Summers?” )
“Hey hey! I don't use lard just for tea!" Palmer grinned, winking suggestively at Heidegger.
Heidegger blanched.
“No?” He tried his level best to sound nonchalant. “Perhaps you use it in sandwiches as well?”
“Well, yes,” Palmer admitted. Then, with what could only be described as a leer, he leaned closer. “But I can also think of more... creative things to do with it. I think you know what I mean.”
Heidegger was horribly afraid that he did. He was about to make any excuse he could and get the hell out of there, when he saw Scarlet hanging about, trying to catch his eye. She was wearing her cleavage dress, and that always meant trouble.
With a sigh, he did the only thing he thought might possibly put her off. He kissed Palmer.
When they broke the kiss, he watched Scarlet’s hastily retreating back, and listened to her screams, with a certain amount of satisfaction. What the hell, he thought, resignedly. Maybe I can get him to reconsider the lard.
Heidegger blanched.
“No?” He tried his level best to sound nonchalant. “Perhaps you use it in sandwiches as well?”
“Well, yes,” Palmer admitted. Then, with what could only be described as a leer, he leaned closer. “But I can also think of more... creative things to do with it. I think you know what I mean.”
Heidegger was horribly afraid that he did. He was about to make any excuse he could and get the hell out of there, when he saw Scarlet hanging about, trying to catch his eye. She was wearing her cleavage dress, and that always meant trouble.
With a sigh, he did the only thing he thought might possibly put her off. He kissed Palmer.
When they broke the kiss, he watched Scarlet’s hastily retreating back, and listened to her screams, with a certain amount of satisfaction. What the hell, he thought, resignedly. Maybe I can get him to reconsider the lard.
SUMMARY: Aziraphale is inconvieniently discorporated, and embarks on a mini-Odyssey across the multiverse.
( Crowley thought, That smells familiar. )
( Crowley thought, That smells familiar. )
SUMMARY: The Gryffindor Trio cope with unexpectedly becoming slaveowners. Mostly humourous, with a sting in the tail. Based on the prompt: In their 7th year, House Slytherin has to be in servitude to House Gryffindor. That would take a slightly different contrivance, wouldn't it? (Amanuensis)
WARNINGS: Implied noncon.
NOTES: Originally posted under the penname Kohl.
( Read more... )
WARNINGS: Implied noncon.
NOTES: Originally posted under the penname Kohl.
( Read more... )
NOTES: The idea of a Dead Letter is that a character is given a chance to write one 100 word letter to one person immediately after their death. I tend to take them as a challenge to fit as much story into as short a space as possible :) These aren't meant to be companion pieces.
( Cedric )
( Harry )
( Draco )
( Dumbledore )
( Cho )
( Neville )
( Hermione )
( Ron )
( Cedric )
( Harry )
( Draco )
( Dumbledore )
( Cho )
( Neville )
( Hermione )
( Ron )
FIC: Tea Break (BtVS, Buffy/Giles, PG)
May. 3rd, 2000 12:00 pmNOTE FROM 2009: Teehee. Metafiction. I quite like this one.
( Buffy and Giles were sitting in his apartment, sharing a companionable silence. )
( Buffy and Giles were sitting in his apartment, sharing a companionable silence. )