Armabloggen [1/?]


“Spike! Spike!”–a pause, in which the object of such outcries dared not hope his pursuer had left the upper level of his crypt–”Spike!”

The vampire in question climbed halfway up the ladder, bleached-blond head-first. His visitor was unlikely to get a warm welcome from his room-temperature host. “Bloody ‘ell, Harris, can’t you see we’re shagging down here?”

“You were not ’shagging’ Buffy,” Xander replied.

“Why not?” Spike demanded. “Because I’m a demon? Because I have no soul? Because I’m not dark, bulky and brooding like poof-boy?”

“No,” Xander said slowly and clearly, “because this is Jemima’s blog. There’s no shagging allowed.”

“Then where do young bloggers come from?” Spike asked, curious despite himself.

“They lure them in with candy.”

Spike nodded sagely. “Like the Shakers…”

“The who?”

“Never mind, monkey-boy. Say whatever you came to say and let me and the Slayer get back to…patrolling.”

Xander cleared his throat. “It seems Jemima has a little problem on her hands.”

“And that would be…?”

“Lori and Seema, Blog War Criminals.”

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