Lesbians Rampant On A Field Of News Print
Spike shifted his head in Xander's lap, shifted it again,
and let his eyes drift open into a lazy wicked glitter. "Well, well.
What've we got here?" He turned his head, closing blunt teeth over an
impressively responsive erection beneath the layers of cotton, giving it a
gentle bite before letting go. "What's in today's newspaper that's got you
all up and interested?"
"What does rampant mean?"
"Means all GRR." Spike held his hands up, fingers clawed, and bared his teeth. "Heraldry term."
"Okay. We're never moving to
"This isn't about the used knickers, is it pet? Really not all that much money to be made hawking used knickers over the internet."
"No. No. This is better than used unmentionables."
"Oh, do tell."
Xander held up the newspaper, and read very very clearly. "The Republican Senate candidate in
"Well, GRR, right?"
"Would that make Kennedy a rampant lesbian?"
"Dunno, luv. Value my bollocks too much to ask that question." Spike narrowed his eyes. "And hey, aren't you supposed to be all gay-now yourself?"
"Shagging blokes now, aren't you?"
"Just like you. And Spike, you still cop looks down Buffy's shirt every time you see her."
"Force of habit," Spike muttered. "And not like I haven't caught you watchin' the potentials do their little jump rope exercises."
"Spike, I'd have to be dead not to watch the girls jumping rope."
"Hey! I'm dead, and I watch-" Spike stopped, apparently remembering the topic of the discussion. "Oh, right. So it's just a nice visual you want then, is it?"
"Nah. It's just a nice thought. Kind of instinctive. You know? Mmm. Lesbians. Like mmm. Twinkies."
Spike opened his mouth, then closed it with a snap. "Right. I'm not touching that one. Too easy. You ever thought of Red like that?"
"Duh, Spike. Only about every other second from age eighteen through, oh, twenty one."
"Think she thinks about us like that?"
Xander snorted. "Okay, now that's just ridiculous."
Spike turned his head, making his eyes big, blue, and blinky just for Xander's benefit. "Why?"
"It just is. I mean come on. Lesbians getting off on a couple of gay guys? What is wrong with this picture?"
"You're sexist you are, that's what."
"That's just not how it works," Xander said, and trailed off as he realized Spike was just staring at him.
"Pet, I realize you kiss with your eye closed, and so have not seen the avid attention we get for every bloody snog, but have you never been on the sodding internet?"
"Uh. What does that have to do with rampant lesbians getting off on a couple of guys doing the do?"
Spike sighed. "It's really never occurred to you that they get off on two blokes getting their ends down together? On us?"
Slowly, Xander shook his head. "They do? That's just-" Xander tried to imagine
Sadly, Spike gave Xander's leg a pat, and levered himself to his feet, shrugging into a shirt and his coat.
"Where're you going?"
"Don't you mind that, luv. Got some business to wrap up just now." Spike bent down, claiming Xander's lips in a kiss that made up for its brevity in its thoroughness. "Make it up to you when I get back, I will."
Xander sagged back into the cushions, dark-eyed and mussed, with the beginning of a silly grin on his face. "Don't be long, k?"
"Few minutes is all, pet." Spike slipped out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind him. Then, he stalked out of the flat, and down the street to number 18, rapping smartly on the door. "Open up, Red! Haven't got all night!"
"Spike, what a surprise! Do you finally have something to tell me?" Willow asked, opening the door and folding her arms. Behind her, spread open on the table, was a newspaper open to the very same lesbians article Xander had found.
Wordlessly, and with only a small glare, Spike thrust a ten pound note into Willow's hands. "Fucking pathetic, you know that? How'd a bloke who shags like that get so innocent?"
Willow patted Spike's arm. "You may be his lover, Spike. But I've been his best friend since we were in diapers. And believe me, I know where Xander's innocent." Willow flashed Spike her biggest smile. "And you owe me porn too, Mister!" She waved the ten pound note under his nose. "This is just the popcorn money."
"Right. Shopping tomorrow night soon enough for your majesty?"
Willow posed thoughtfully, head tilted on one side in full-on cute mode. "I suppose tomorrow night could be arranged. For an extra two DVDs. And good titles. Not the icky hairy bargain bin stuff from the 1970's."
Willow gave Spike her widest, most innocent look. "You mean you didn't know? Now who's innocent?"