(no subject)

[doyle]

connorbeast and I were discussing whether we wanted SMG on the last Angel episode (the short version: no. The long version: oh, hell, no. For me it's nothing against the character or the actress, it's just that I don't want a good 1/3, minimum, of the last episode ever ever ever being taken up with the bloody triangle. Anyway.) Connorbeast made a crack about her being crushed by the dragon from The Gift. Then he wrote some very funny dialogue for Angel and Spike. Then I wrote the bits in between the dialogue. And suddenly we had Angel and Spike with a tremendously out of character reaction to Buffy's death.


The Important Questions
by Connorbeast and Doyle

"Uh-huh," Angel said. He'd said that quite a lot in the past ten minutes. If Spike's opinion of his grandsire's intelligence hadn't been quite so low to start with he'd worry the old man was losing the few marbles still rattling round that cavernous skull. "Uh-huh. Yeah. Thanks, Giles." He hung up the phone and sat staring at it for quite some time.

Spike fidgeted in his chair. They'd been barely half an hour into a promising argument that had looked set to any minute turn into serious foreplay when Harmony had buzzed in insisting somebody on line one needed to speak to the boss. And now Angel was sitting there looking poleaxed and Spike was rapidly forgetting whether they'd been arguing about hockey vs football (real football, not the nancified rugby the Yanks liked) or the obscene amount of hair products Angel used.

"What?" Spike snapped.

Angel shook his head. "You'll never believe what I just heard."

"What, somebody say you got a small forehead?"

Angel frowned, but didn't take the bait. Oh, something serious then. "Buffy," he said, looking down at his desk. "She got crushed. By a dragon."

"A dragon?" Spike said, hardly able to take it in. Buffy... she couldn't be gone. Not that way. There were too many questions, too many things he wanted to ask, and the one that skipped the queue and pushed its way to the front of his mind was, "Welsh or Chinese?"

Angel blinked. "Giles didn't... apparently it came through a portal three years ago... Welsh, I think."

Spike was still trying to wrap his head around the concept. "You're telling me a Welsh dragon killed Buffy." He shook his head. "That's terrible. Almost," he continued, a sly note creeping into his voice, "like a caveman falling on an astronaut, some would say."

Angel slapped his palms full weight onto the desk. "Dammit, Spike! When's the last time a caveman fell on anybody?"

Spike leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankle. Might as well get comfy if this was going to be a half-decent fight. "I didn't say just anybody," he said. "I said an astronaut. And when's the last time a dragon fell on anybody you know?"

"St. Petersburg."

"Yeah," he admitted. "Point. But getting back to the cavemen..."

Five minutes later Harmony reached for the earplugs she'd taken to keeping beneath her desk, and set about redirecting all calls.


--

Sometimes I think the reason nobody else gets us is because we have a slightly skewed sense of humour.

Comments

[the-royal-anna.livejournal.com]

::dies::

Oh, I needed that. I didn't know I needed it until I read it, but I really, really did.

That was the most wonderful thing I've read in just about ever. It was perfect. I don't want to read anything ever again because I don't think anything will ever quite match up to it. But at least if I'm crushed by a dragon in the immediate future I can die with a smile on my face.

Hee! I don't think I'm going to stop laughing all week.

Thank you for sharing. :)