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Scent Drabbles For slashthedrabble 01/20/05 - #1-3

This week's topic is 'scent'. What aroma captures your imagination? Pheromones? Chocolate? Cigarette smoke? Blood? Someone else's cologne on a lover's skin? Or maybe it's demon slime or burnt offerings or the antiseptic smell of a hospital corridor?

Cross posted to slashthedrabble and my regular journal.


BtVS – Pre-Series – William/Angelus – R, maybe.

1. Out of the Closet

William’s been locked away in the hall closet for the better part of a week after pissing off his elders yet again. Naked save for a blindfold and chained to a hook set into the ceiling, his muscles ache from strain.

He catches the scent of Sire, fresh from the hunt. Remaining silent as his chains are unlocked, the younger vampire cannot control his body’s reaction. His cock fills and rises with the remnants of his borrowed blood, seeking out it’s Master.

Angelus gently forces the boy’s head to the crook of his neck. His fangs drop, obediently. Punishment over.


BtVS – Season 5 – Spiral – Spike/Xander

2. Light My Fire

Doofus. Xander snorts. Looks like Raggedy Andy with his mitts all tied up in bloody rags. It’s Spike’s whispered ‘ow’ that gets Xander moving. He takes the Zippo from the beleaguered vampire and holds the flame to his cigarette.

“I mention today how much I don't like you?” A little snark makes Xander feel better. Doing something nice for Spike isn’t his usual modus operandi.

“You mighta let it slip in ... once or twice.”

Spike snark, old and familiar as they face Glory. The smell of smoke relaxing for a change. Maybe, just maybe they stand a chance… together.


AtS – Post NFA – Lorne

3. Drift Away

Lorne waggles his fingers at the bartender, holding out his empty glass to be exchanged for a fresh seabreeze. The unique combination of grapefruit, cranberry and vodka usually calms the green-skinned demon. Tonight, however, it’s not working. Not even after the fifth cocktail hits his system.

He’d told Angel he was through. No more hero business for him. Most emphatically a lover, not a fighter. Problem is, his heart is broken. Lindsey’s death at his hands has shredded Lorne’s already ragged soul.

With a deep sigh, he snaps his fingers once more for another drink. Maybe he’ll just pass out.

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