September 27th, 2003



Is there anything cuter than Xander in "Welcome to the Hellmouth" as he skateboards down the sidewalk, sees Buffy for the first time, gets lost in a gawk, and clotheslines himself on the handrail? I don't think so. It's so "The WB!" And yet so utterly not. (The hair! He's a floppy-haired boy! For about three episodes.) It's notable that you don't even get the faux teen-angst-lite opening until after you've seen Darla vamp out and rip into hapless Victim Number One. Whose corpse later falls out of a girl's gym locker. This is not your, um, sister's WB. Or something like that.

(Also, the Humbert Humbert scene where Giles looms behind Buffy in the Bronze, chin practically on her shoulder, dick practically in her back pocket--how'd they fly *that* past the suits? Heh.)

I listened to Kane's "Crazy in Love" twenty times yesterday, I think. Is it wrong that I tried to hear it with different pronouns? Yes. Yes, it is. I've been wandering through my Lindsey-Spike fantasy for three days now, and it's been kind of a failure. Hot, but ultimately a failure. Lindsey really wants Angel. No matter how much hot sex with Spike I give him, it's all "Angel, Angel, Angel, toss me over a table, Angel!" I let Spike save his ass and nail his ass, I sent them to a fancy L.A. restaurant and fed them on the richest foods--lobster! live mink!--and it was romantic as hell, but Lindsey was all hung up on the Big Brooding Guy and wouldn't let go his dream of becoming Angel's cuddle monkey and fighting the good fight somewhere slightly to the left behind Soulboy's looming, stoic form.

I've had to accept it, of course: the Big Guy, Little Guy Law trumps Spike's massive sex appeal. Big guys and little guys go together like ham and cheese, peanut butter and jelly, Jack and Coke. Angel and Lindsey: Jossverse OTP #4, I think.

Oh, well. Spike gets plenty of trim in all my other fantasies.


The kindest person in the world just informed me that I spelled Wesley's last name wrong in the last noir. For the rest of you: no wire hangers cookie, no cookie, no cookie!

Okay, it's entirely my fault because I had no beta reader, but damn it, that's been up for over a week now.


I will now throw myself off a bridge and take the world with me. Except for thebratqueen.
  • Current Mood

oh my god.

Giles's outfit in "The Harvest," when he's got the brown cardigan buttoned up and the twee handkerchief peeping out of one pocket?

Gayest. Look. Ever.

I will accompany this post with the icon of Giles Glaring at Me.

ETA: Other interesting things about "Welcome to the Hellmouth" and "The Harvest."

- Buffy exhibits from the very beginning an incredibly savvy and creative approach to fighting; when she goes up against Luke she kills him by tricking him into thinking he's been struck by sunlight. And yet two seasons later, the council still thinks she needs to go through the brain-not-brawn ritual in "Helpless"? Shyeah. That ritual was such a crock. There were some ulterior motives there that even Giles didn't know about. I've seen someone theorize that it was historically intended to kill off slayers before they became obstreperous and uncontrollable--too strong. I'm not sure that theory works perfectly, but I do wonder about the point.

- Angel is very hands-off in the beginning, and super-suave, and it's hard to reconcile his weird, stalkery, uncommitted behavior towards Buffy with later retcons.

- Darla is not the Darla we see later, queenly and composed and in complete control. She's a bit servile toward the Master, much the minion. You've got to wonder what happened to her along the way and what she was doing for the last 30 years before the Master began his attempt to rise.

- Willow bests Darla with holy water. Darla's not at the top of her game.

- Buffy saves Xander, Willow saves Giles, Xander saves Cordelia.

- Cordelia exhibits her earliest signs of geek-interest (for Vamp!Jesse).

- Xander kills one of his best friends (inadvertantly, but it counts); before he does, he's pretty obviously torn up about Jesse turning into a vampire. Afterwards, we don't see an especially heavy reaction. If he's feeling anything, he's hiding it. It makes you wonder what kind of practice he's had hiding bad things. (Of course, Willow exhibits the same roll-with-the-punches good humor, so it's not the best evidence of Xander's secret domestic abuse history. Heh.)

- Again, I must point out: Giles is very gay.

...skipping away now...


Willow: "Malcolm, Moloch, whatever he's called. The one boy that's really liked me and he's a demon robot. What does that say about me?"
Buffy, firmly: "It doesn't say anything about you."
Willow: "I mean, I thought I was really falling..."
Buffy: "Hey, did you forget? The one guy I've had the hots for since I moved here and he turned out to be a vampire."
Xander: "Right, and the teacher I had a crush on? Giant praying mantis."
Willow, perking up: "That's true."
Xander: "That's life on the Hellmouth."
Buffy: "Let's face it. None of us are ever going to have a happy, normal relationship."
Xander, grinning: "We're doomed."
Willow, matching grin: "Yeah."

[Everyone laughs, then the laughter peters out and they all stare off into space, digesting their fate as the screen cuts to black.]

Dude. That was episode *eight*. Joss really wasn't afraid to plan long, was he? Poor kids.

s/x kiss

Gacked from green_luv. Let it be meme, I say.

Xander held up his hands as if begging the film to stop rolling. "Okay, no, no, no, see--this is *not* the part of the buddy-cop movie where the two guys have to pretend to be gay, and if it *is*, you can consider me officially leaving for popcorn."

"Will you shut it?" Spike spat the words out like bits of gravel.

"No, I will not--"

Spike spun and shoved Xander up against the alley wall, clamping one hand over his mouth, and hello, why the hell wasn't Mister Chip issuing the smackdown? Another failure of American technology; the Japanese now, they'd know what to do with vampires who shoved their cigarette-smoky hands under your nose with no respect for your personal bubble.

"Do you know what a Swodniw demon'll do if it gets within claw range?" Spike asked.

This was the point where Xander should have shoved Spike's hand aside or maybe gotten in a bite for the home team, rah, but the vampire's fierce gaze fixed him with the question and he shook his head in answer.

"It'll pin you to the ground, open up a hole in your belly," he poked a finger into Xander's navel, "and spend the next two hours slurpin' your guts up like capellini."

Capellini? Xander thought. And then: Ewwww. A wave of faintness washed through him, making his knees start to buckle.

Spike took his mouth-covering hand off but kept the other wrapped in Xander's shirt and yanked him away from the wall, craning around the edge of the alley to check on the status of their monster.

Xander cleared his throat softly. "So explain the part again where kissing makes the bad demon go away?"

"They don't eat prey that's mating."

"I hate my life. So. Much."

"I hate your life too," Spike said irritably, and then his body stiffened. "Oh oh."

"Oh oh?" Panic gripped Xander's capellini. "Oh oh?"

That was the last thing he had a chance to utter before Spike kissed him.

Xander struggled against fate, of course. His strict heterosexual code demanded that he try to twist from Spike's grasp and break from his vile vampire lips, defying death and the brutal Swodniw. Which made it hard to explain how he found himself back up against the alley wall, leaning on it for support as Spike's body blanketed him from head to foot, or why a hand had climbed into Undead Boy's back pocket while the other one wound into his bleached and extra-crispy hair.

I hate this, he assured himself, as he heard the Swodniw enter the alley and give them a snuffling investigation. And then he kind of forgot about it, kind of blanked out or something, though he thought he heard some moaning sounds that might have been the beast.

There's a lot of tongue, he thought absently, as a passing observation, the way you notice these wet and interesting things. Cool, agile, skillful, like a fish darting in and out of his mouth except not at all fishy, just smoky and boozy and...what had he been thinking a moment ago?

A lot of tongue, a lot of Spike in his mouth, a lot of...oh god, Spike in his mouth!

He broke away long enough to gasp, ready to curse and protest and really, really express his not-at-all-happy-with-this-ness, and oh look. An eight-foot tall monster with red eyes and claws like meat hooks.

Xander grabbed the back of Spike's head and pulled him in for another wild mouthful. And then he lost the plot again for a while, what with all the tongue and the hands and rubbing and somehow the part where his jeans came unzipped, possibly from the rubbing.

"Oh my god," he husked out as Spike drew off just far enough to sniff and chew his neck, the rest of him remaining plastered to Xander from the hips down and everywhere else it counted.

"Oh my god!" a higher voice said in horror, moments before something pulled his vampire away.

No no no, he thought in matching horror, eyes snapping open; this was his personal vampire, not for sharing. Get your own, he thought wildly, before sanity returned and he was forced to zip himself up in front of an audience of saucer-eyed girls.

His personal vampire was clenched in a slayer fist and wore an expression as if he'd just misplaced a thought somewhere over in Xander's pants.

"Okay," Xander said, holding one hand up and the other hand strategically down. "I can explain this."