Rating: PG- that whole boys with boys thing
Feedback: Mys has decided that she actually likes FB, so… constructive crit is fine, just be prepared for Mys to defend/explain her choices, and try not to do any permanent damage, k.
Disclaimer: Just playing with the pretty kittens. Unfortunately, they are not mine, but I will gladly groom and bathe them before sending them back home to Daddy (aka Joss/Mutant Enemy/et al).
written for noel_of_spike
Beta: The wonderful kitty_alex, who loves to correct my mistakes and still manages to love the Mys when she ignores her sage advice! :-P
Meeting of the Minds
The chits’re sitting there natterin’ about some demon thing, good ol’ Rupes is droning on - makes a bloke hope for a bout of lens polishin’, Xan’s there smilin’, lookin’ all edible like the nummytreat he is, and I’m stuck ’ere watchin’, listenin’, and smellin’ m’ boy and not able to so much as touch ’im.
’s not that they don’t know about us; more that when they see us together all hells break loose. Slayer gets extra bitchy, glaring, and tossin’ that damn pet stake of hers around. Red starts goin’ on ’bout shovels and bits of anatomy and acts with said anatomy that ’m pretty sure no demon could survive. The Bit and Glinda, they’re different, all coos and smiles in between tryin’ to calm the other two women. Then there’s the Watcher. Now, I’ve heard about ’Ripper’, met that Chaos Mage of his, and yeah, I know a bit about what lurks in the hearts of the quiet ones, even so, the cool, calculated burn in his eyes and the clipped, measured strokes he uses to clean his glasses ’s a chilling sight- that’s one message I won’t be disregardin’ so easy.
If only he knew how I feel about the boy. If there was a way to show ’im I’d never hurt Xander- blasted mortal’s my world. Nothin’, not my Princess, not gettin’ this soddin’ chip outta m’ head, not the saving the world (not that I’d do that given the choice, but it’s the principle), not my own unlife is more important then him. I love ’im. ’s all there is to it- just can’t make them see it.
My head lolls forward and I close my eyes, blockin’ out the chatter, the heartbeats, the smells of coffee and tea and pastries until all m’ senses are filled with my boy.
I try to stop the possessive and angry growl that’s building in my chest, but it’s too hard, my demon demands its Mate, demands to touchsmelltaste. Then there’s heat and nutmeg and butterscotch candies and he’s pushing my knees apart to settle between them. His back to my chest, head turned just enough for me to swoop down and claim his perfect mouth.
Right on cue the sounds start, but I can’t really be bothered. I’ve got my Xander; got my boy- let ’em talk, coo, scream, and glare. I’ve got more important things to take care of.
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