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crack_van2004-08-30 04:44 pm
kraken-wakes.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-08-30 04:44 pm
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Domestic Piranhas by James Walkswithwind and Mad Poetess (NC-17)
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zortified and mpoetess
Author Websites: Pointy Stakes and Gila's Cave
Pairing: Angel/Wesley/Gunn, Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Why this must be read:
Mad as a box of frogs (or alternatively, a tank of piranhas - thank youdoyle_sb4 for that description!), this is a joyously outrageous romp through what can only be described as an AU. Although the series features Spike and Xander, it's set in the Hyperion with starring roles for a delicious threesome of Angel, Wesley and Gunn and is more Angel based than BtVS based.
Ahem.
This is a riot. Absolutely mind bogglingly funny with stunningly accurate characterization (I'm still not sure how they pull that off). Each chapter stands alone and they can quite happily be read out of sequence with the .5 classification concentrating on Angel, Wesley and Gunn and the normal numbering concentrating on Spike and Xander. These are funny and hot as hell but cunningly concealed within them are startling episodes of character investigation. Lost In Translation is one of the best Wesley character pieces I've read and Truth In Every Shepherd's Tongue is genuinely painful in places.
Read this if you're interested in Angel and Spike's back history; if you like the idea of Xander and Spike plaguing the life (unlife?) out of Angel; if a sharply observed Drusilla as aunty to a bunch of carnivorous fish is your kind of thing; if you like your humour mixed with angst. If you like slash and AtS, really. And Cordelia is a joy in these stories. She utterly rules the roost.
Gunn was about to bitchslap somebody. Surprisingly, it wasn't Spike. More surprisingly, it wasn't even Angel, who had dozed through most of the flight, and fallen back into his not-quite-broody-enough-to-get-his-nails-painted silence, as they made their way underground from Heathrow to Kings Cross Station, and boarded the train for Nottingham.
No, he was about to spin *Xander's* head around if he didn't shut up.
"Look! Sheep!" Xander was sitting in the seat ahead of them, pointing out the carefully-draped train window at a passing meadow. Or field. Or whatever the fuck it was besides fuzzy and green and just like the last 30 of them that they'd passed. The first time Xander had pointed out the sheep, it was cool. The second time, it was funny. The 29th time...
"Xander, you just got *back* from England. And you've been here how many times on business?" Gunn finally asked, in order to stop himself from intruding on Spike's territory and whapping Xander on the back of the head. If he could even focus on it, since Xander was still bouncing in his seat. "What's the big deal about some sheep?"
Xander turned his head to look at Gunn. "Spike and Angel ate a sheep farmer once, and decided to try raising his flock for a couple of months. Somewhere between London and Nottingham, there's a flock of sheep that are kind of my step-grandchildren."
Gunn looked at him. He looked back. Xander seemed perfectly serious, and from the seat next to him, where Spike was slumped to avoid the sunlight that was trying to sneak past the curtain, he heard "Not this one, luv. Our sheep had black ears."
Was it even worth *trying* to respond? Those nutjobs raised piranha and called them their kids, so why couldn't sheep be their grandkids? "Hell, knowing Spike," he muttered, "They really *are* his grandkids."
"Oh, right," he heard from Spike's seat. "Cos Angelus would *never* get drunk an' have unlawful carnal knowledge of a fluffy animal."
Gunn started to comment, when he stopped and looked back at Angel. Angel, who was studiously trying to pretend he had the hearing of a 90 year old human and hadn't heard a word from the seat two feet from his. "Angel?" Gunn demanded, because he *knew* Spike was pulling his leg. It wasn't totally unheard of for Angel to play a joke or two, but to go along with one of Spike's?
Angel looked at him with an expression of innocence. "Yes?"
"Don't make me ask if it's true," Gunn told him. He was trying hard not to think about the fact that Angelus had probably done lots of things that didn't involve killing and torturing, which Gunn still wouldn't want to know about.
"It was Spike!" Angel protested.
"Was not," Spike argued. "You *told* me. You rodgered that fluffy one with the bell round its neck."
"Yes," Angel responded in a patient voice, and Gunn had to force himself not to clap his hands over his ears. "That was *you*."
Gunn grinned as Xander, then Spike, realized what Angel was saying. Xander began laughing hysterically, while Spike looked outraged.
Domestic Piranhas by James Walkswithwind and Mad Poetess
zortified and mpoetessAuthor Websites: Pointy Stakes and Gila's Cave
Pairing: Angel/Wesley/Gunn, Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Why this must be read:
Mad as a box of frogs (or alternatively, a tank of piranhas - thank you
doyle_sb4 for that description!), this is a joyously outrageous romp through what can only be described as an AU. Although the series features Spike and Xander, it's set in the Hyperion with starring roles for a delicious threesome of Angel, Wesley and Gunn and is more Angel based than BtVS based. Ahem.
This is a riot. Absolutely mind bogglingly funny with stunningly accurate characterization (I'm still not sure how they pull that off). Each chapter stands alone and they can quite happily be read out of sequence with the .5 classification concentrating on Angel, Wesley and Gunn and the normal numbering concentrating on Spike and Xander. These are funny and hot as hell but cunningly concealed within them are startling episodes of character investigation. Lost In Translation is one of the best Wesley character pieces I've read and Truth In Every Shepherd's Tongue is genuinely painful in places.
Read this if you're interested in Angel and Spike's back history; if you like the idea of Xander and Spike plaguing the life (unlife?) out of Angel; if a sharply observed Drusilla as aunty to a bunch of carnivorous fish is your kind of thing; if you like your humour mixed with angst. If you like slash and AtS, really. And Cordelia is a joy in these stories. She utterly rules the roost.
Gunn was about to bitchslap somebody. Surprisingly, it wasn't Spike. More surprisingly, it wasn't even Angel, who had dozed through most of the flight, and fallen back into his not-quite-broody-enough-to-get-his-nails-painted silence, as they made their way underground from Heathrow to Kings Cross Station, and boarded the train for Nottingham.
No, he was about to spin *Xander's* head around if he didn't shut up.
"Look! Sheep!" Xander was sitting in the seat ahead of them, pointing out the carefully-draped train window at a passing meadow. Or field. Or whatever the fuck it was besides fuzzy and green and just like the last 30 of them that they'd passed. The first time Xander had pointed out the sheep, it was cool. The second time, it was funny. The 29th time...
"Xander, you just got *back* from England. And you've been here how many times on business?" Gunn finally asked, in order to stop himself from intruding on Spike's territory and whapping Xander on the back of the head. If he could even focus on it, since Xander was still bouncing in his seat. "What's the big deal about some sheep?"
Xander turned his head to look at Gunn. "Spike and Angel ate a sheep farmer once, and decided to try raising his flock for a couple of months. Somewhere between London and Nottingham, there's a flock of sheep that are kind of my step-grandchildren."
Gunn looked at him. He looked back. Xander seemed perfectly serious, and from the seat next to him, where Spike was slumped to avoid the sunlight that was trying to sneak past the curtain, he heard "Not this one, luv. Our sheep had black ears."
Was it even worth *trying* to respond? Those nutjobs raised piranha and called them their kids, so why couldn't sheep be their grandkids? "Hell, knowing Spike," he muttered, "They really *are* his grandkids."
"Oh, right," he heard from Spike's seat. "Cos Angelus would *never* get drunk an' have unlawful carnal knowledge of a fluffy animal."
Gunn started to comment, when he stopped and looked back at Angel. Angel, who was studiously trying to pretend he had the hearing of a 90 year old human and hadn't heard a word from the seat two feet from his. "Angel?" Gunn demanded, because he *knew* Spike was pulling his leg. It wasn't totally unheard of for Angel to play a joke or two, but to go along with one of Spike's?
Angel looked at him with an expression of innocence. "Yes?"
"Don't make me ask if it's true," Gunn told him. He was trying hard not to think about the fact that Angelus had probably done lots of things that didn't involve killing and torturing, which Gunn still wouldn't want to know about.
"It was Spike!" Angel protested.
"Was not," Spike argued. "You *told* me. You rodgered that fluffy one with the bell round its neck."
"Yes," Angel responded in a patient voice, and Gunn had to force himself not to clap his hands over his ears. "That was *you*."
Gunn grinned as Xander, then Spike, realized what Angel was saying. Xander began laughing hysterically, while Spike looked outraged.
Domestic Piranhas by James Walkswithwind and Mad Poetess