palabravampiress
Bidet of Evil
Disclaimers
* BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER trademark (TM) and copyright (©) Fox and its related entities. All rights reserved.
This web site, its operators and any content on this site relating to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are not authorized by Fox. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and/or the WB Television Network, UPN. The webmasters are not affiliated in any way with the aforementioned entities. The fiction on this, and adjoining pages is provided solely as an entertaining resource. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied.
* ANGEL trademark (TM) and copyright (©) Fox and its related entities. All rights reserved.
This web site, its operators and any content on this site relating to "Angel" are not authorized by Fox. Angel and its characters are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and/or the WB Television Network. The webmasters are not affiliated in any way with the aforementioned entities. The fiction on this, and adjoining pages is provided solely as an entertaining resource. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied.
* LONESOME DOVE: THE OUTLAW YEARS trademark (TM) and copyright (©) Rysher Television and its related entities. All rights reserved.
This web site, its operators and any content on this site relating to "LONESOME DOVE: THE OUTLAW YEARS" are not authorized by Rysher Television. LONESOME DOVE: THE OUTLAW YEARS and its characters are the property of Rysher Television and/or current rights holders. The webmasters are not affiliated in any way with the aforementioned entities. The fiction on this, and adjoining pages is provided solely as an entertaining resource. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied.
Blurb:
The following is a crossover fic that I wrote awhile ago for another fandom. It's actually part of a series that I'm working on in fits and starts. I don't think they know who this stranger "Williams" is, yet, but I'll bet you do! The premise here is: What if, shortly after being sired, Spike went to the American West? It seems like it would be a good place for a vampire. Mostly, though, I just wanted to combine two of my favorite shows. In the story, mysterious nocturnal animal attacks start to claim the lives of the town's citizens.
Effulgent
by Palabra
Doc Clease and Luther groaned loudly. It had to be fate. Or cheating. It was almost closing time at the Ambrosia Club – too late to startup another game – and Doc was out some sort of fancy doctorin' implement. Why the greenhorn would want that was anybody's guess. Luther was out cash – cash that Call coulda used his own self. Call was out somethin' worse.
Clease looked longingly at the item he had lost.
"Mister, umm, Mr. William, if - if you would allow me to return home and retrieve the, uh, the appropriate funds, I would be happy to concede the proper amount. A bet is a bet. But that is my only dental key. It's new. Notice the crook in the shaft and the interchangeable claws at the end. Much less painful for the patient—"
William, the stranger, picked up the instrument and winced.
"Less painful, you say?"
"Yes. Why, if you should need—"
"Aww, stop yer fussin'! It's just a bitty thing, Doc. Can't be worth that much," Luther said, slapping the doc on the back. "Come on, I'll buy ya a drink. Drinks all around!"
Mosby rolled his eyes and brought over a fresh bottle.
The first shot went to the winner, whose cry of "Effulgent!" prompted even the dandified sonofabitch proprietor to cock a brow.
While the others shared a final round on Luther's tab, Call studied the stranger. He was a pernickity `un, this William. Fresh off the train. Still smelled like gaslight and soot. Talked funny, sorta like them Irish. Dressed like Mosby. No, dressed more sissified than Mosby. But a bet was a bet, and Call had bet this man use of his room for a week.
"'Don't know nothin' bout no damn `effulgent," Call muttered under his breath.
The stranger heard him. He stopped laughing and fitted Call with a steady, startling gaze. For an instant, the man neither breathed nor blinked. His attention was focused entirely on Call. And then the moment was gone, and he was once again the slightly drunk, fidgety, scrawny, green dude who had just cheated at cards and thought no one knew.
"Be that as it may, sir, I believe the gentlemanly thing for me to do would be to allow you a moment to collect your things before I claim my prize."
Call looked out the window. It was still full night. Closer to morning than not, but he'd still hafta find a place to bed down. Might be Mattie'd let him use her shop again – that, or UnBob'd let him without tellin' Mattie.
"Don't need no things. Room's upstairs at the Dove," Call said with a shrug.
"Call don't need nothing, `slong as he's got his bench. Aint' that right, Call?" Luther said, shoving William good-naturedly. "Fella don't do nothin' all day but sit in the street an' stare at folks."
Emboldened by his single shot of whiskey, Doctor Clease added, "You should have been here the day he placed his Wanted poster on the wall behind him and then sat right down on the bench! It was a sight to behold! A genuine frontier experience, my friend. I wrote to Mother about it."
Once again, William's façade fell briefly as he flashed Call a beguiling smile.
"Is that so?" the stranger asked.
Call stood fetched up his hat. He fixed William with a stare of his own.
"T'so," he said, taking up his shotgun and moving toward the door.
With one foot already out the door, Call turned to the stranger and said simply, "Don't steal nothin'. You do, I'll come for ya."
The stranger didn't say anything. He just smiled and stared. Call could feel the man's eyes on his back halfway down the street, but he shrugged it off. Just so happened he had more important things to attend to than some sissified city boy.
******
"Call, no!" Mattie scolded when he showed up with his bedroll -- or what passed as one, which was mostly just his coat and shirt rolled up so as to make Mattie blush.
"I didn't let you drag me back from Miles City just so you could sleep on my floor. This is a shop, not a damn hotel," she insisted.
Call slung down his bedroll anyway. He stared at her hard, just like the greenhorn back at the Ambrosia had stared at him. It was fate. Or cheating. Either way, the outcome suited him just fine. Weren't no way Mattie'd let him sleep all night in the shop. Anyway, who was she foolin'? She hadn't come all the way back from Miles City just so he could sleep on her floor.
* BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER trademark (TM) and copyright (©) Fox and its related entities. All rights reserved.
This web site, its operators and any content on this site relating to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are not authorized by Fox. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and/or the WB Television Network, UPN. The webmasters are not affiliated in any way with the aforementioned entities. The fiction on this, and adjoining pages is provided solely as an entertaining resource. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied.
* ANGEL trademark (TM) and copyright (©) Fox and its related entities. All rights reserved.
This web site, its operators and any content on this site relating to "Angel" are not authorized by Fox. Angel and its characters are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and/or the WB Television Network. The webmasters are not affiliated in any way with the aforementioned entities. The fiction on this, and adjoining pages is provided solely as an entertaining resource. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied.
* LONESOME DOVE: THE OUTLAW YEARS trademark (TM) and copyright (©) Rysher Television and its related entities. All rights reserved.
This web site, its operators and any content on this site relating to "LONESOME DOVE: THE OUTLAW YEARS" are not authorized by Rysher Television. LONESOME DOVE: THE OUTLAW YEARS and its characters are the property of Rysher Television and/or current rights holders. The webmasters are not affiliated in any way with the aforementioned entities. The fiction on this, and adjoining pages is provided solely as an entertaining resource. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied.
Blurb:
The following is a crossover fic that I wrote awhile ago for another fandom. It's actually part of a series that I'm working on in fits and starts. I don't think they know who this stranger "Williams" is, yet, but I'll bet you do! The premise here is: What if, shortly after being sired, Spike went to the American West? It seems like it would be a good place for a vampire. Mostly, though, I just wanted to combine two of my favorite shows. In the story, mysterious nocturnal animal attacks start to claim the lives of the town's citizens.
Effulgent
by Palabra
Doc Clease and Luther groaned loudly. It had to be fate. Or cheating. It was almost closing time at the Ambrosia Club – too late to startup another game – and Doc was out some sort of fancy doctorin' implement. Why the greenhorn would want that was anybody's guess. Luther was out cash – cash that Call coulda used his own self. Call was out somethin' worse.
Clease looked longingly at the item he had lost.
"Mister, umm, Mr. William, if - if you would allow me to return home and retrieve the, uh, the appropriate funds, I would be happy to concede the proper amount. A bet is a bet. But that is my only dental key. It's new. Notice the crook in the shaft and the interchangeable claws at the end. Much less painful for the patient—"
William, the stranger, picked up the instrument and winced.
"Less painful, you say?"
"Yes. Why, if you should need—"
"Aww, stop yer fussin'! It's just a bitty thing, Doc. Can't be worth that much," Luther said, slapping the doc on the back. "Come on, I'll buy ya a drink. Drinks all around!"
Mosby rolled his eyes and brought over a fresh bottle.
The first shot went to the winner, whose cry of "Effulgent!" prompted even the dandified sonofabitch proprietor to cock a brow.
While the others shared a final round on Luther's tab, Call studied the stranger. He was a pernickity `un, this William. Fresh off the train. Still smelled like gaslight and soot. Talked funny, sorta like them Irish. Dressed like Mosby. No, dressed more sissified than Mosby. But a bet was a bet, and Call had bet this man use of his room for a week.
"'Don't know nothin' bout no damn `effulgent," Call muttered under his breath.
The stranger heard him. He stopped laughing and fitted Call with a steady, startling gaze. For an instant, the man neither breathed nor blinked. His attention was focused entirely on Call. And then the moment was gone, and he was once again the slightly drunk, fidgety, scrawny, green dude who had just cheated at cards and thought no one knew.
"Be that as it may, sir, I believe the gentlemanly thing for me to do would be to allow you a moment to collect your things before I claim my prize."
Call looked out the window. It was still full night. Closer to morning than not, but he'd still hafta find a place to bed down. Might be Mattie'd let him use her shop again – that, or UnBob'd let him without tellin' Mattie.
"Don't need no things. Room's upstairs at the Dove," Call said with a shrug.
"Call don't need nothing, `slong as he's got his bench. Aint' that right, Call?" Luther said, shoving William good-naturedly. "Fella don't do nothin' all day but sit in the street an' stare at folks."
Emboldened by his single shot of whiskey, Doctor Clease added, "You should have been here the day he placed his Wanted poster on the wall behind him and then sat right down on the bench! It was a sight to behold! A genuine frontier experience, my friend. I wrote to Mother about it."
Once again, William's façade fell briefly as he flashed Call a beguiling smile.
"Is that so?" the stranger asked.
Call stood fetched up his hat. He fixed William with a stare of his own.
"T'so," he said, taking up his shotgun and moving toward the door.
With one foot already out the door, Call turned to the stranger and said simply, "Don't steal nothin'. You do, I'll come for ya."
The stranger didn't say anything. He just smiled and stared. Call could feel the man's eyes on his back halfway down the street, but he shrugged it off. Just so happened he had more important things to attend to than some sissified city boy.
******
"Call, no!" Mattie scolded when he showed up with his bedroll -- or what passed as one, which was mostly just his coat and shirt rolled up so as to make Mattie blush.
"I didn't let you drag me back from Miles City just so you could sleep on my floor. This is a shop, not a damn hotel," she insisted.
Call slung down his bedroll anyway. He stared at her hard, just like the greenhorn back at the Ambrosia had stared at him. It was fate. Or cheating. Either way, the outcome suited him just fine. Weren't no way Mattie'd let him sleep all night in the shop. Anyway, who was she foolin'? She hadn't come all the way back from Miles City just so he could sleep on her floor.