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Odds and Ends

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Ficlet(s)

Summary: Drabbles and ficlets written for the FFA or just for fun. Crossovers included but not limited to Stargate, Constantine, Supernatural, Anita Blake, Smallville, Torchwood, Dr. Who, Burn Notice, NCIS and Alias.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > General > Ficlet Collections - Other(Moderator)AvaFR155019,858516365,81211 Mar 0727 Jan 12Yes

NOTE: This chapter is rated FR13

Flirtation and Threats (Buffy/Smallville)

Title :: Flirtation and Threats
Rating :: FR13
Pairing :: Buffy Summers/Oliver Queen
Disclaimer :: Smallville and all related characters are copyright Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, DC & The CW Network. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended.

Synopsis :: Even heroes bicker and act like children. (pointless fluff)


Flirtation and Threats

A warm hand was splayed at the small of her back, helping to distract Buffy from the cold concrete she found herself standing against. The thighs pressing into hers shifted and she sighed, fingers absently tapping on the leather encased chest currently at eyelevel. The green on black design was a hard texture beneath her fingernails reminding her of the exoskeleton of a beetle.

She tilted her head back, gaze locking on a slightly cleft chin, the only portion of her companion’s face she could actually see at the moment and asked, “Can we move yet?”

She was more than positive that her whispered words had forced his lips to quirk and he shifted back, head dipping and pulling more of his features into the shadow of his hood. “As soon as Cyborg gives the okay.”

She snorted at the mechanical tint to his voice and shifted. Attempting to find a more comfortable position against the wall as Green Arrow—Buffy rolled her eyes, like she had anyone in this dimension to tell his secret identity to—took a step forward and his other hand lowered from the communicator nestled in his ear to cup the side of her waist before slipping down to her jean covered hip and stilled her movements.

Green eyes narrowed as she whispered, “I think you’re taking advantage of the situation.”

“I’m not the one wiggling around.” The low chuckle that followed his words pulled her brows together.

“Wiggling?” She hissed indigently and her brows shot up as she realized exactly what he was implying. “I am not wiggling…”

He stepped forward and Buffy trailed off as she was forced to straighten and dropped her hands from his chest to his waist. He pushed them back until she was tight against the wall and the hand cupping the small of her back tensed as they were suddenly pressed together from chest to thigh and she was stuck staring at that annoyingly impressive chest. The hand at her hip rose to cup her mouth and she ignored the impulse to sink her teeth into the more than likely un-tasty leather.

A moment of silence past before her eyes narrowed and she noticed the slight quiver to his frame and she turned her narrow-eyed stared on his shadowed face. The chuckle that escaped past his clenched jaw held the same mechanical tint as his voice and her hand rose from his waist to dip into the shadow of his hood and wrap loosely around his throat. She felt the bob of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed and her lips quirked against his hand before it dropped and he returned the favor, a strong hand caging her throat.

“Behave.”

The one word order had her brows rising higher and her lips dipped down as she shifted, slipping her knee between his thighs and felt his entire body tense. “I’m one more order away from making you sing soprano for the rest of what will be a very short, very pain-filled life.”

His head inclined and for a moment she could see past the shadows that covered most of his features and she glared at the sunglasses and her own reflection in them. “In the field we follow the chain of command.”

Her knee eased from between his thighs, boot heel lowering back to the floor as she let her hand fall away from his neck. Quoting from a rule book he wrote really wasn’t endearing him to her, but Buffy sighed since he was sort of, almost right—damn.

She turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to see his smirk of triumph. Then frowned at the empty space beside her, which was also covered by the stairs, and far from the motion sensors. Buffy’s head snapped back to center, back to face him and her chin rose in defiance as she asked snidely, “And the reason you couldn’t stand beside me is why?”

There was a pause before he offered simply, “Better view.” With those two words still between them he stepped back. “We’re good to go. Come on.”

Buffy blinked at the empty space in front of her a moment and at the fact that the front of her body felt oddly cold. Pushing herself from the wall, Buffy shrugged off the felling and her stride stretched to catch up with his.

Her voice was conversational as she asked, “You pulled on pigtails as a kid didn’t you?”

He stumbled a moment and her brows rose as she reached him. The same smirk from earlier was quirking his bottom heavy mouth as he stated, “I’ll make you eat dirt later. After we finish the assignment.”

“Pfft! As if I’d be the one eating the dirt.”

His chuckle held the same mechanical tint as before and she smiled.

The end.
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