They’re all hanging out down in Angel’s cave of shadowy vamp pain. (She has got to get some friends who think sun is a good thing, before she winds up as pale and pasty as Angel. Or – ohGodno – Wesley.) She’s stringing up some Christmas lights, because she has nobly accepted that it is her lot in life to bring joy and sunshine – well, figurative sunshine – into Angel’s mopey broody dullsville existence.
-- This fic was perfection, gorgeous perfection and WHERE HAS IT BEEN ALL MY LIFE!?? GAWD I miss these guys something fierce.
“You see,” Wesley continues hoity-toitily, “once the Abominable Snowman’s teeth have been removed by Hermey the Misfit Elf, he no longer wishes ill upon the world around him. Not only that, but his particular skills become essential to his new group of friends. Who else would have been tall enough to put that star on top of the tree, hmm?”
“Aw,” Angel says in this small, contented voice.
-- You know you broke my heart alot right here and then it mended all over again, like magic. I also kinda heard Coldplay's "Fix You" playing in my head when I re-read this fic for commenting purposes.
She sinks down onto the arm of Wesley’s chair. He makes a super British tut-tutting noise and pokes her in the side, but she’s pretty sure that’s just dork code for oh Cordelia, what would my life be without you?
-- *sigh*
-- If you'd thrown in Charles Gunn and his brand of macho street snark, it would have probably broken my screen.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2011-02-17 04:24 pm (UTC)-- This fic was perfection, gorgeous perfection and WHERE HAS IT BEEN ALL MY LIFE!?? GAWD I miss these guys something fierce.
“You see,” Wesley continues hoity-toitily, “once the Abominable Snowman’s teeth have been removed by Hermey the Misfit Elf, he no longer wishes ill upon the world around him. Not only that, but his particular skills become essential to his new group of friends. Who else would have been tall enough to put that star on top of the tree, hmm?”
“Aw,” Angel says in this small, contented voice.
-- You know you broke my heart alot right here and then it mended all over again, like magic. I also kinda heard Coldplay's "Fix You" playing in my head when I re-read this fic for commenting purposes.
She sinks down onto the arm of Wesley’s chair. He makes a super British tut-tutting noise and pokes her in the side, but she’s pretty sure that’s just dork code for oh Cordelia, what would my life be without you?
-- *sigh*
-- If you'd thrown in Charles Gunn and his brand of macho street snark, it would have probably broken my screen.