Presumptuous title + first time posting = whoo!

400 words. Implied X/?, and vague W/X. Wishverse. And really really not betaed.

The Other Side )
This is for the Dark of Night Challenge at [livejournal.com profile] slashthedrabble this week -
X-posted to my LJ, and [livejournal.com profile] angel_wes.

Drabbles all

Late Night Musings - ATS, Wesley/Angel, Angst, G ) - for some reason I'm really into Wesley/Angel lately. Spoilers through the Connor debacle.

Stars - Roswell, Kyle/Michael, Angst, PG ) - my first roswell slash! Not sure how it turned out . . . (no spoilers, really, maybe through the beginning of S2 if you really want to get technical.)


Creature of the Night - BTVS, Xander/Spike, R ) - my OTP, no spoilers.
For "The Dark of Night" prompt

Title: Drabble #27 (100 words on the nose)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Author: Deb
Rating: PG

Um, hi! First post here so. Um. Yeah. *waves*

--

The night isn't as dark as people think. It's flashing red, flashing blue, countless shades of shimmering neon, bright white. Sharp glare from halogen bulbs as we unearth, dig, seek truth and place it in plastic bags with gloved hands.

Sometimes it's not so much about what we find as what it leads to.

And we’re working together tonight. He’s right there, so close I can smell sweat, shampoo, him. So close I can hear him breathing, remember the feel of his breath on my skin just hours before as we slept, tangled together.

It’s gonna be a long night.
For the 'The Dark of Night' challenge.


In The Dark

Xander/Spike

At the Magic Box he can only study him, discretely, through lashes that hide his curiosity. Making note of eyes, lips, fingers. All appearing too soft for someone so hard. The tome in his hands unread, forgotten.

On patrol he can only watch in carefully masked awe on the sidelines, as he moves with inhuman grace and speed. Muscles rippling under pale skin that glows in the moonlight. Eyes turned amber with the thrill of the fight and the anticipation of the kill.

And in the dark, he can only close his eyes, touch his own heated flesh, and remember.
For the 'The Dark of Night' challenge.


In The Dark

Giles POV


He watches over them, their mentor.

No matter how brave or strong they are, at the end of the day they’re still far too young for the roles they’ve taken on.

During the day he guides them, teaches them. Impresses upon them the importance of researching, training. Hoping to pass on his own strength, knowledge so they may be stronger for it.

But at night, in the dark, he will let go, let the tears fall, for he knows... No matter what he does... No matter how strong they get... They will fall. One by one. And he will watch.
Another Xander/Ethan drabble
Title: Darkness
Author: piratepurple
Warnings: Sorcerers with evil intent.
Disclaimer: No harm meant, no profit made.

Ethan could feel the boy coming from miles away. )
Title: Winter
Author: Nicholas
Fandom/Pairing: X-Files / M/K
Rating: R
Category: Angst, CD
Warning: CD
Words: 100

'Winter' )
And here I go again! I got feedback last time. When I get feedback, you can never get rid of me.

Title: Coming Out To Play
Pairing: Giles/Spike (cheers Becky)
Rating: A small, open-minded child could read it.

Coming Out To Play )
::cough, shuffle::

Um - hi. First post here - helluva prompt. For "The Dark of Night" which conjured very pretty pictures in my head. Written on the fly and rather fast - cut tag for ficlet and, please, consider yourselves warned. Not what I'd consider particularly graphic but I hedge my bets in new communities. *g* And um - the title is a shout out to Leonard Cohen.

Is This What The Darkness Is For? - 500 words )
300 words. Lindsey/Xander, Season 5, AU. Mention of character death.

Also the first time I've written any BtVS fic that doesn't include Jesse(/Xander). Again, not betaed.

Loopholes )
Title: The Next One, With No Snow
Author: [livejournal.com profile] mpoetess
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Challenge: "The Dark of Night"
Setting: December 24th, 1999; between Hush and Doomed


"The hell you doing out here, Harris?"

Out here, thermos of eggnog beside his sleeping bag. Refreshing holiday treat and handy blunt instrument. He doesn't use it. Yet. "The hell do you care, Spike? I untied you; take off. Bugger. Sod. Whatever you English types do."

Instead, Spike drops down. Steals a cookie, faster than Xander can smack. "Why bother? Can't bite, can't fight."

"My heart bleeds, except not. Have the bed, then. Merry Christmas."

"Them upstairs playing Carol of the Broken Bottles all night? Not bloody likely."

"And now you know what the hell."

"...right. Pass us the nog."
.

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