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samsomTitle: Mistaken Identity
Author: Samsom
Pairing: Canon pairings for BtVS s3. And a whiff of C/A.
Summary: “What is it with you and Slayers? Maybe I should dress up as one and put a stake to your throat.”
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: It’s amazing what I’ll call a ficlet. This was inspired by a small emoticon in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ficbitch82’s latest post. Takes place between Revelations and Lover’s Walk.
~~
He smells her two seconds before he sees her.
Wood and leather.
The sweat dotting her upper lip.
Looking up, he begins to smile.
But in the half dark behind the Bronze, where he expects a deceptively petite blond, he gets slammed against the dirty wall by a brunette instead, not half as petite, but just as fragile.
He grabs her hip with one hand, steadying himself or just feeling the firmness of her flesh, he’s not sure. But he keeps his grip even as the sharp end of a stake jabs him in the throat.
Cordelia’s eyes widen in shock and dismay, and she jumps back, thrusting the stake behind her back.
“Angel!” she exclaims. The roar of her heart is loud in the quiet of the hallway, and the blood rushing to her face makes her pink from her forehead down to her chest.
Very becoming
Even hell can’t make that voice quiet.
He shushes the snake and gazes at Cordelia, taking in the leather pants, upswept hair, and kohl-black eyeliner.
“Cordelia?” he questions, straightening away from the wall, moving towards her without really meaning to.
Cordelia doesn’t answer him but backs up instead, still blushing furiously, muttering something about Xander under her breath. Then she turns and runs away, hair swinging behind her, stake still gripped tightly in one hand.
He doesn’t go after her, feeling suddenly confused and finding himself envious of Xander Harris for reasons other than his friendship with Buffy.
~end~
Author: Samsom
Pairing: Canon pairings for BtVS s3. And a whiff of C/A.
Summary: “What is it with you and Slayers? Maybe I should dress up as one and put a stake to your throat.”
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: It’s amazing what I’ll call a ficlet. This was inspired by a small emoticon in
ficbitch82’s latest post. Takes place between Revelations and Lover’s Walk.~~
He smells her two seconds before he sees her.
Wood and leather.
The sweat dotting her upper lip.
Looking up, he begins to smile.
But in the half dark behind the Bronze, where he expects a deceptively petite blond, he gets slammed against the dirty wall by a brunette instead, not half as petite, but just as fragile.
He grabs her hip with one hand, steadying himself or just feeling the firmness of her flesh, he’s not sure. But he keeps his grip even as the sharp end of a stake jabs him in the throat.
Cordelia’s eyes widen in shock and dismay, and she jumps back, thrusting the stake behind her back.
“Angel!” she exclaims. The roar of her heart is loud in the quiet of the hallway, and the blood rushing to her face makes her pink from her forehead down to her chest.
Very becoming
Even hell can’t make that voice quiet.
He shushes the snake and gazes at Cordelia, taking in the leather pants, upswept hair, and kohl-black eyeliner.
“Cordelia?” he questions, straightening away from the wall, moving towards her without really meaning to.
Cordelia doesn’t answer him but backs up instead, still blushing furiously, muttering something about Xander under her breath. Then she turns and runs away, hair swinging behind her, stake still gripped tightly in one hand.
He doesn’t go after her, feeling suddenly confused and finding himself envious of Xander Harris for reasons other than his friendship with Buffy.
~end~
