Eaten by Weasels (eatenbyweasels) wrote in ebw_buffyslash, @ 2008-03-22 16:19:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | 12, 500 words and under, ethan/andrew, humour |
Finders Keepers. Ethan/Andrew. 12
Ever the opportunist, our Ethan....
Finders Keepers
Look. Its cold, its pouring with rain and frankly, I’m not in the mood for playing Knock-Down Ginger. Show yourself or clear off!
Oh, hang on! I know you! The term “spying” strikes me as a little harsh, but, yes, I will confess to keeping tabs on Ripper and his little coterie. Terribly sorry, but your name escapes me. Andrew. That’s it. Well, Andrew, were you planning a guerilla re-enactment of that woodland scene in MacBeth, or did you have a more entertaining motive for courting pneumonia in my Rhododendron?
A spell? Credit me with some intelligence, child! You live cheek by jowl with Ripper and the delightfully deadly Miss Rosenberg and, from what I gather, you’re not exactly uninitiated in the old magicks, yourself. Oh, I get it! Ripper sent you. Thought he’d trick wicked old Ethan into providing an excuse for a beating. Is he that bored with babysitting you lot? Run along home, Andrew, and tell Uncle Rupert that he’s been rumbled. On second thoughts, just run along. I’ll phone him myself.
A doorbell has a finite life, you know, Andrew. I thought I’d told you to go away. No, I haven’t called Ripper yet and I’m of the firm conviction that the news hardly justifies tears. Hypothermia aside, what on earth is the matter with you?
Fortunately for you, I’m almost as bored as Ripper. Otherwise I’d have left you to your icicle impersonation. Yes, through there to the lounge. I’d invite you to sit down, but my cleaner would tell half the neighbourhood I’d finally lost control of my bladder.
No, of course I won’t peep. Just hand me the wet clothes. Anybody ever told you that Paisley rather suits you? Spare a fellow’s eyes, though and tie the belt. Can I get you a drink? Glass of pop, maybe? Now, what’s this spell that you can’t ask Ripper and his winsome Wicca about? Revenge? Andrew! I’m shocked!
Oh, dear. You do seem to have the most ghastly luck as far as men are concerned. I’d no idea about you and the Skinless Wonder. And now Xander Harris, eh? Never had him down as the sharpest knife in the box, and this proves it. Neglecting your affections like that! Perhaps he just never saw you by firelight, wrapped in an over-sized Paisley dressing-gown…..… What? I assure you, Andrew, the only magic in that glass is courtesy of Captain Morgan. Just a tot. Warm you up a bit. A toast, then! To revenge!
No, no, Andrew. By all means turn in if you’re feeling tired. Must be the sudden warmth after nearly freezing. We can do the spell in the morning. Give us a hand with the sofa bed, there’s a good chap. Bedroom’s an icebox. Think I’ll just crash down here with you. I wonder if I still snuggle in my sleep. Oh, let Rupert worry! He’s such an awful stuffed shirt these days. You wouldn’t recognise him as the man who used to……. no, honestly. He did! I promise I’m not pulling your leg. And time was, Tweed was just the name of a river where we skinny-dipped together. Actually, it all got rather naughty, that swim. You know when someone …… you don’t? Really?
So, I’d be the first to touch you like …….this, for example? What about this? What an extraordinary waste of such a delightful, ……... responsive boy. Well, yes, mea culpa, my dear, clever fellow; I did slip you the teensiest bit of magic. No, no, not an aphrodisiac spell . You’re managing perfectly well without one of those. Just a simple forgetting spell in your pop. One way or the other, my delicious little windfall, I‘m going to make sure you forget you ever heard the name “Xander Harris”.