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Standing in the wake of a newly (not to mention barely) won run-of-the-mill slayage battle, Cordelia crosses her arms in front of her chest. She’s impressively composed for someone who just impaled an unholy creature of the night with a pink stiletto heel.
“Aren’t you supposed to kiss me or something?”
Xander wipes a little bit of fluorescent green demon slime from his forehead. “Does this look like happily ever after to you?”
She contemplates it for a second, then wrinkles her nose. “Good point.”
Which, in and of itself, is reason enough for a fiery embrace or two – it’s at least twelve percent driven by the motivation to gross her out. The other eighty-eight might just be genuine affection. Xander decides not to dwell on that. He’s had enough scary for one night.
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Very cute!
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Wow, it seems weird to be reminiscing about Buffy as if it was so long ago because it seems like something that would just always be there and always be active but... nothing is like that. It was a long time ago, in comparison to newer fandoms and just things in general. Hmm, excuse the rant, but I never realised that Buffy has become a thing of nostalgia, like Seinfeld and The X-Files. Carry on.
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My Angelverse romantic OTP.