Disclaimer: I own neither BtVS (Whedon) nor HP (Rowling).
A/N: My short contribution to the "Hug a Donor" challenge. Consider yourself hugged, FaithUnbreakable!OOOOO
Nearly-Headless Nick flinched at the woman's moan. It was far
too sensual a noise – she was eating ice cream
for Morgana's sake! The sound was throaty and low, and if he'd still been alive he was sure all the hair on his body (and a few other things besides) would have been standing straight up at attention. As it was, he was noticing a distinctly glazed look on several of the Gryffindor boys in the vicinity, as well as some shuffling as they adjusted their, erm, positions
"Madame, is that entirely necessary?
" he asked, annoyed.
She blinked at him: her large, dark and thickly-lashed eyes were dreamy with pleasure as she switched her focus from the bowl to him. He had no real physical reactions anymore, hadn't had a one in centuries
… so why did he suddenly feel as if his collar was too tight?
"Hmmm?" she licked her lips, savoring the taste. One of the older boys whimpered.
"That – that display
. It is highly unseemly!"
She started to frown, "I'm just eatin', yo. S'good ice cream!"
"Yes, we can see" and hear
"that. Must you be so… vocal
in your enjoyment?"
Faith scowled, and then paused, looking around at the students – mostly boys – who surrounded her, all watching with varying degrees of intensity. "Since when has eatin' been a spectator sport?" she muttered darkly.
"Since you chose to make of yourself a spectacle," Nick replied adroitly.
"Fine then, I'll take my ice cream elsewhere!" she rose and headed towards the Hufflepuff table where several of her fellow Slayers and Council-members were. The majority of the boys sighed in disappointment seeing her leave, though this did not stop them watching her go.
The Bloody Baron floated over, face surprisingly sympathetic: "Ice cream?"
The Slytherin ghost chuckled humorlessly, "Poor Friar."OOOOO
A/N: Nick, Faith, Ice cream, Erection, 300 words... Like, love, loathe?