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27 September 2009 @ 16:38
Fanfic - Angel (Gen: Spike & Illyria) - How To Persuade The Ultimate Killjoy To Have A Good Time  
Title: How To Persuade The Ultimate Killjoy To Have A Good Time
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: None, Spike & Illyria
Disclaimer: Not mine, bah.
Summary: Spike takes Illyria to a bar, but as usual she has distain for everything.
Word Count: 402
Notes: Written for comment_fic


"Why have you brought me to this wretched temple full of even more filthy lower-beings than back at The Wolf, Ram & Hart?" spat Illyria, never mincing her words in true style.
"Look, love," began Spike, his patience already waning at the demon-goddess' contempt for absolutely everything around her, "It's called a bar! And, let me make this clear to you, IT. IS. A. PLACE. WHERE. PEOPLE. GO. TO. HAVE. FUN! Do you understand that last word? Did it not exist in the good old days of yore and fascism?"
Illyria scoffed, "Emotions are weak. We higher-beings looked down at you creatures and your merriment and laughed, before wiping you out in one fail swoop!"
'No wonder they locked you in a bloody coffin,' thought Spike, 'the little Sheba was the ultimate killjoy.
"You can do that here! The laughing part I mean, I do not want to explain why you massacred everyone doing the Macarena, with a huge hangover, to Mr Broody in the morning!"
Craning her neck to the side, Illyria's interest seemed to pick up.
"Explain so."
Spike paced towards her, no longer wanting to waste an extra second of valuable drinking time, to stand beside her and extend his right arm, much like a ringmaster presenting a circus to a small child.
"Right, in there, people get drunk. And I mean absolutely plastered. They fall over, pick fights with each other; sometimes they even try to murder some Barry Mannilow songs. The fact is that alcohol makes them lose control, and truly become the dirty little lowlifes that you think they are, pet. So, if you want the greatest show of human stupidity on earth, then here it is!"
Spike watched Illyria's face for a moment; her chin lowered slightly, her eyes flicked to and fro in thought, considering each of Spike’s words and deciphering them as either truth or lies. Spike eventually got bored of this and began to make his way over to the bar, leaving the blue figure standing alone.
"Wait!" she said, her stern, commanding voice clear through the humming background noise of far off club music. Taking gentle, proud steps towards the vampire, Illyria regained her threatening royal presence, brushing away all uncertainly an instant.
"You will only lead when I permit so."
Spike laughed, "Come on, Xena. I reckon even an old bird like you could do with a stiff drink n'all."
 
 
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