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Slashed Sonnet Sequence

By: WillaSheNillShe
folder -Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 12
Views: 2,719
Reviews: 2
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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#3 - Golden Time (Spike/Angel)

"Golden Time"
Spike/Angel
200 words


Lying slackly in each other's arms, momentarily sated, Spike nudges his head beneath Angel's chin and begins humming softly to himself. Angel half-laughs, half-groans, lightly slapping Spike's forearm. "Since when do you like Annie Lennox?"

He can't see, but he knows Spike's giving him a filthy look. He relents, humming along for a few bars LoveLove Song for a Vampire_ until he gets an even filthier look, the one reserved for those who are chronically off-key and would do well to never attempt any kind of music.

It's surprisingly good, this lazy afterglow. Familiar in a new sort of way. It's been a century-plus since they -

Well. Things change, he'd changed. He'd come to bitterly regret permitting Spike's creation and his continued existence, even after the chip. Loathed the thing he'd shaped in a twisted sort of love.

Now, though? Holding Spike is coming home where he's welcome and wanted. The other vampire knows him for what he is, and has no regrets.

Thinking that, Angel pulls Spike a little closer and lays his cheek atop the crown of his head. He wonders whether he dares hum again, or if he should just savor this stolen, golden moment.

* * *

For those interested...

Sonnet 3

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember'd not to be,
Die single and thine image dies with thee.
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