Personal fanfic community: dfasgbaf
Personal fanfic group: DFAS Giles's Bloody Awful Fanfiction
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating/Warnings: FIC-PG this part. FIC-17 eventually. Applicable warnings will be in the headers of individual parts of the series.
Genre: Male/Male slash romantic comedy. (That's my goal, anyway.)
Spoilers: Up to and including the episode "Wild at Heart." Read no further in these headers if you do not want to be spoiled for that show.
Summary: Riley gets sent to ascertain Hostile 17's "good behavior," but he doesn't expect the sight that greets him...nor does he expect the reaction he has!
Disclaimer: The characters Spike and Riley Finn belong to Joss Whedon and all his industry affiliates. I get no profit from this story. I write it only for guilty pleasure and feel free to do so because Joss has encouraged such activity on more than one occasion.
Feedback: Constructive criticism, both negative and positive, will be accepted with grace and gratitude. Destructive criticism (insults without examples from my work and suggestions for improvement to fortify the insults) will be deleted and will earn a block from journal, community, inbox, or group, whichever and however many are applicable and/or possible. Pure, unadulterated praise is always welcome, of course!
Author's note: Thanks to peckish16 for the info on what product James Marsters used in his hair back when he had long, bleached-blond, naturally curly hair in need of extra control. She told me where to find the product: http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P2895.
Distribution: Archive sites, etc., of which I am a member. Anyone else, please ask. If you're willing to share the archive info with me, I will probably say yes. Thanks for your interest!
Spike stepped out of the shower, the 80's station blaring from the brand-spankin' new satellite radio he'd nicked. One of the few non-punk, non-rock songs he liked, "Things Can Only Get Better," came on, and he whipped the towel off the hook on the wall and began to dance.
"Oh, yeah...! This is a good one." He bent his knees, rocked his hips, and shook his ass around as he dried himself off.
What he didn't realize was that he had an audience--by now, a rather red-in-the-face audience. Riley Finn had been sent to ascertain Hostile 17's relative containment--to make sure the HST remained harmless to humans and, basically, being a good little vampire.
Riley had no idea he would find the idiot dancing around his crypt in the nude with--Riley had to struggle to stifle an audible guffaw--a HUGE platinum-blond Afro.
Spike threw the towel in the corner of the little room that held his shower and sink, and reached for his hair balm. He squirted a generous amount in his hand and rubbed his hands together as he began to move his body to the music again, singing, " Whoa, oh, oh-oh-oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh-whoa-oh....And do you feel scared? I-I do, but I won't--" his voice vibrated as he worked the product through his hair-- "stop and falter. And, if we threw it all a-away, things can only get better...." He bent his knees and really got into it with the next part, closing his eyes as he vigorously rubbed the product into his hair. "Whoa, oh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh, oh-oh-oh. Whoa, oh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh, oh-oh-oh." He opened his eyes and took his hands from his hair, continuing to dance around the room, gradually dancing his way out to his sleeping area.
Smiling broadly, feeling good for the first time since escaping that hive of crazy, hell-bent, Neo-Nazi humans, he threw himself on his bed, bending one leg at the knee and flopping it to the side, letting the air dry him. Quirking an eyebrow, he stroked his hand idly down his stomach.
"Enjoying the show?"
To be continued...**evil laughter**