“Hit me again.” With a nod, Cupid slid his empty shot glass towards Willy.
“Not trying to get in your business, friend, but don’t ya think you should slow it down? Ya know, with the flying and all?” Willy stopped wiping down the bar, eyeing the portly god teetering on the edge of his stool.
“Not really your concern, is it, friend. Don’t need another wife, just someone to pour the booze. So pour.” Cupid tapped the bar, the ashes from his cigar littering the newly cleaned top.
“Sure, sure. Just, you know, looking out for the paying customers.” Willy pulled out a once full, now steadily emptying bottle of Jameson and poured a four-finger count.
“Yeah, yeah, save it. Don’t need your crap, got plenty from my old lady. Every year it’s”—in a falsetto voice, he continued— “Really? How soon we forget the quests, the torturing, the whole going to hell and back for your ass, and what? You can’t even bother to stay home. Tonight of all nights?”—Cupid cleared his throat, voice returning to its usual gruffness— “Blah…blah…blah. Same shit different century. Doesn’t even appreciate what I gotta do. I’m flyin’ around in a diaper for cripes sake! Not to mention, it ain’t gettin’ any easier with those bastards at Hallmark ™ making it nearly impossible for a hard workin’ guy like myself to get his due. A friggin’ shame is what it is. Anyway, here’s to love.”
Cupid toasted and in one go, emptied his glass. Willy tried to shelf the bottle, but was stayed by Cupid’s hand.
“Ya know what? Leave it.” Cupid threw a handful of wadded up bills on the bar.
“No worries, on the house.” Willy waved off payment, trying not to think where said dollars were only moments ago.
“Thanks, buddy.” Cupid grabbed the bottle and downed half.
Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, Willy made his way to the other side of the bar to wait on a Boretz demon sitting all by itself.
“And there's a story in my eyes
Turn the pages of desire
Now it's time to trade those dreams
For the rush of passion's fire…”
Flying low, Cupid weaved in and out of Restfield’s headstones, singing loudly and off key. The inch-worth of Jameson left, sloshed around the sides.
“I can feel you tremble when we touch
And I feel the hand of fate
Reaching out to both of us…”
Cupid tottered and with all the grace of a gooney bird, landed on the top of a tall headstone. Gaining his footing, he revved-up for the chorus using the bottle as a mic.
“I can't hold back, I'm on the edge
I can't hold back
Your voice explodes inside my head…”
“Get the hell away from me, Spike!”
Singing louder, Cupid tried ignoring the yelling off to his far left.
“I can't hold back, I won't back down
Girl, it's too late to turn back now…”
“Slayer, just listen to me, yeah? If you think a little disinvite spell is going to make me go away, you really don’t know me at all!”
Pissed that someone interrupted his one-man jam, Cupid cursed, tossed the bottle aside and cast a bleary eye at the gatecrashers coming towards him fast and furious.
Fists and teeth clenched, Buffy spun and held her ground, stopping Spike dead in his tracks.
“That’s the point, Spike! I don’t want to know you! Let me clarify one last time, so even a brain trust like you will understand, Get. Out. Of. My. Life!”
“You keep saying that but every time I try, you come right back to me. Like some soddin’ blonde boomerang. Make up your bleedin’ mind!” Spike stepped into her personal space, mirroring her posture.
“Hey! Knock it off you two, its St. Vally’s day for cripes sake!”
Being completely ignored by the fighting duo, Cupid fumbled with his quiver and bow. Closing one eye, he took aim. When the four moving targets became two and steadied, he launched two heart-shaped tipped arrows.
“I can feel you tremble when we touch
And I feel the hand of fate
Reaching out to both of us
This love affair can't wait…”
“Ouch!” “What the bloody hell!” Buffy and Spike shouted, and stepped back from one another. They looked down at their butts then around for the cause.
“Bull’s-eye!” Raising his arms in victory, Cupid teetered and fell from his perch, landing hard on the ground below.
“What the?” Buffy swayed, steadying herself using a headstone. Everything around her swirled and intensified. She tried finding a focal point, finally settling on Spike’s radioactive coif.
“Yeah, second that.” Spike widened his stance, trying to balance. His vision shifting and distorting reminded him of the time he ate that Flower Child. Yet this time, with bonus randy-ness. He noticed Buffy staring at him. Her chest was heaving and pupils blown.
“Slayer, you okay?”
Seeming to find her footing, Buffy closed the distance between them. By the tantalizing sway of her hips and a minxy-knowing smile, he could’ve sworn she was coming on to him. Then he reminded himself who she was, and looked for a stake aimed at his heart.
I can't hold back
“Mmm…Spike.” Buffy placed both palms on his chest. Her heat and scent was driving him mad but the small fraction of his mind not lust-muddled forced him to keep his hands to himself.
I can't hold back
That was until she ran the tip of her tongue across the seam of his lips. Then all bets were off.
I can't hold back
“Slayer.” Pulling her into his arms, their mouths collided and the world as they knew it stopped.
I can't hold back
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Story Notes:
This little tale is set between “Crush” and “I was made to love you”. For this story, I’ll be referring to the God of Love as Cupid. Normally, I follow very closely to canon, but I decided to color outside the lines on this one for all you romantics at heart.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This little tale is set between “Crush” and “I was made to love you”. For this story, I’ll be referring to the God of Love as Cupid. Normally, I follow very closely to canon, but I decided to color outside the lines on this one for all you romantics at heart.
This is unbeta-ed, all mistakes...you know the drill
This is unbeta-ed, all mistakes...you know the drill
Chapter End Notes:
Cupid’s wife is Pysche. If you are not familiar with their story, read here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cupid_and_Psyche
Totally aging myself, but the song is an oldie but goodie called, “I Can’t Hold Back” by Survivor 1984. If you want to watch the video go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaMcsKtBDwE
Pay no mind to the bad clothes and even worse hair. The 80’s were a time when the mullets were long and the clothes were tight, and that was just the guys! This was the video on MTV, at a time when they only did videos. Yeah, totally aging myself.
Boretz demon: “were a demon species known for their bad odor and their poisonous bite. These demons had the habit of dressing up like transients to prey on homeless people.” http://buffy.wikia.com/wiki/Boretz_Demon
A gooney bird is another name for an albatross. These birds are known for their terrible take-offs and landings.
Totally aging myself, but the song is an oldie but goodie called, “I Can’t Hold Back” by Survivor 1984. If you want to watch the video go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaMcsKtBDwE
Pay no mind to the bad clothes and even worse hair. The 80’s were a time when the mullets were long and the clothes were tight, and that was just the guys! This was the video on MTV, at a time when they only did videos. Yeah, totally aging myself.
Boretz demon: “were a demon species known for their bad odor and their poisonous bite. These demons had the habit of dressing up like transients to prey on homeless people.” http://buffy.wikia.com/wiki/Boretz_Demon
A gooney bird is another name for an albatross. These birds are known for their terrible take-offs and landings.