Crack Ficlets by Emma Grant

In April 2007, I offered to write crack drabbles for prompts people gave me on my LJ. These five ficlets were the reuslt.

sonofdarkness requested: Harry Potter/Angel and/or Buffy Crossover. Draco meets Spike. Spike takes the absolute piss out of Draco for being such an obvious ponce.

dm_p requested: Harry/Draco, weird stuff sold on eBay.

neotoma requested: Luke, Obi-Wan, or Qui-Gon. gen. "It might be Bunnies!"

bethbethbeth requested: Harry, Buffy, and Luke: considering whether they should go on strike.

dustbunnies710 requested: BtVS, Spike/Xander. Cracktastic plot: Warren went crazy with the robot making

Categories: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Angel (Series), Star Wars, Harry Potter Characters: Buffy Summers, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Spike, Warren, Xander
Series: None
Chapters: 5 Completed: Yes Word count: 1862 Read: 139874 Published: 08/12/2007 Updated: 08/12/2007
Story Notes:

Originally posted: April 9-10, 2007

Links: First four | Fifth

1. Spike/Draco for Sonofdarkness by Emma Grant

2. Harry/Draco for dm_p by Emma Grant

3. Star Wars gen for Neotoma by Emma Grant

4. Harry, Buffy, and Luke for Beth by Emma Grant

5. Spikebot/Xanderbot + Warren for Dustbunnies710 by Emma Grant

Spike/Draco for Sonofdarkness by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:

sonofdarkness requested: Harry Potter/Angel and/or Buffy Crossover. Draco meets Spike. Spike takes the absolute piss out of Draco for being such an obvious ponce.
Spike slammed back the last of the whiskey and pushed to his feet. It was late -- or rather, it was early. So early that it the sun might rise soon, and wouldn't that just be the cherry on top of his fucktastic night? He waded through the other drunks, shoving his way toward the door.


He turned to see one of the drunks glaring at him. He vamped -- it usually got wankers off his case -- and snarled, menacingly.

The drunk rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Like you'd bite someone in public."

Spike snarled again and pushed the boy back until he felt him hit a solid wall. "Want to bet?"

"Spike, it's me. Draco."

Spike forced his eyes to focus. Sure enough, it was that poncy little brat of Lucius Malfoy's. "Oh, fuck no."

"Fuck, yes." Draco's beady eyes lit up.

Lucius Malfoy was an admirable man, Spike had always thought. Cruel, cold-blooded, evil. Spike liked that in a person. Draco, however, was a sycophantic little shit who sucked up to everyone. Spike knew about the sucking part first hand.

"Fuck, no," Spike repeated. "Aren't you supposed to be off sucking your Dark Lord's dick or something?"

Draco smiled. "Been there, done that. Besides, it's my night off." His arms slithered around Spike's waist. "Want to Lord some of your Dark over me tonight?"

Spike scowled. He despised having sex with wizards as a rule. Other vampires, demons, humans, and even the occasional troll, sure -- but wizards were so full of themselves, always trying to use "magical lube" and such shite. He glared at Draco.

"Can I bite you?


Spike shrugged. "All right then."
Harry/Draco for dm_p by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:

dm_p requested: Harry/Draco, weird stuff sold on eBay.
Harry stared at the computer screen for nearly a full minute before he could manage to open his mouth.


"Yeah?" a sleepy voice asked from somewhere near the sofa.

"Would you happen to know who PureBlood1980 is?"

There was a moment of silence, followed by a meek, "Sorry?"

"Pureblood1980. On eBay."

"No. Why?"

Harry turned to glare at him. "Because he's apparently selling locks of my hair."

"How odd," Draco replied, fake-stifling a yawn. "He must be a deranged fan."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Locks of my pubic hair."

Draco paled a bit. "That's... very odd."

"You know what else is very odd?"


"That you got me drunk and convinced me to let you shave me the other night."

Draco squirmed a bit. "What a coincidence."

Harry glared at him a moment longer, and then turned back to the computer screen. "The high bid is 300 pounds."

"Really?" Draco was off the sofa and behind his shoulder in an instant.

Harry swallowed a grin. "You'd better be planning to buy me a very nice gift."
Star Wars gen for Neotoma by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:
neotoma requested: Luke, Obi-Wan, or Qui-Gon. gen. "It might be Bunnies!"
Obi-Wan sank to his knees in the cool darkness of his adobe hut, and reached out to the Force for guidance.

"Master Qui-Gon, I need your help."

He waited several moments, and finally a blue-tinted vision appeared before him. "What is it now, Obi-Wan? I was busy playing holo-chess with Mace Windu, and he cheats when I have to materialize to this plane of existence for more than a minute."

"I am sorry, Master, but it's of grave importance. It's about Anakin's son, Luke."

Qui-Gon's brow furrowed. "Is something wrong?"

Obi-Wan was sure the pain was visible on his face. "Yes, Master. It's... how do I put this? He's a bit of a... wuss."

"A wuss?" Qui-Gon blinked at him. "Obi-Wan, I'm afraid I don't follow you."

"He's just not Jedi material. Anakin's son he may be, but this is not the Chosen One who'll bring balance to the Force, I can assure you."

"Padawan, I think your failure with the father is clouding your judgment of the son."

"No, it isn't. Luke whines constantly, about everything. He's overly concerned about what his friends think of him, and whether his hair is feathered just right, and lives in deathly fear of getting his white tunics dirty."

Qui-Gon frowned. "Would he be open to wearing black? It was rather fetching on his father."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "In this heat? You haven't been to Tattooine in a while, have you? Anyway, I've tried to convince him to wear khaki, or something darker, but no. He has those knee-high white boots that match, so you know, he won't give up the white."

Qui-Gon sighed. "Obi-Wan, it isn't impossible for a good Jedi to have some fashion sense."

"He screams at the sight of bugs. He sleeps with a night light and a teddy bear. He's afraid of bunnies, Qui!"

"They can be vicious."

"You're not going to help me out here, are you?"

"You made your own bed with all of this Anakin shit, you know. Now you have to lie in it."

Obi-Wan swallowed a grimace. "What if I were to travel to Alderaan, to train the girl instead?"

"Out of the question."

"That's a bit sexist, don't you think? She could be the one in the Prophecy. There have been many great female--"

Qui-Gon snorted. "Don't think I don't know your true motive, my aging Padawan. Senator Bail Organa was quite the hottie in his day, and I'm sure there'd be fringe benefits to tutoring his little princess in the ways of the Force."

Obi-Wan blushed, and wondered how Qui-Gon knew about that particular fantasy. "Master, no! I feel the Force pulling me towards Alderaan."

"It's the pull of something in your trousers you're thinking of," Qui-Gon retorted. "I'm sure Tattooine sucks and all, but this is the will of the Force. Deal with it." And with that, his image faded away.

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. "Bastard."
Harry, Buffy, and Luke for Beth by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:

bethbethbeth requested: Harry, Buffy, and Luke: considering whether they should go on strike.
Buffy leaned back in her chair and took a sip from her wine cooler bottle. "So I was thinking..."

"Imagine that," Harry muttered. Luke snickered, but looked abashed when Buffy shot him a glare.

"That we should go on strike," she continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"On strike?" Luke's eyes narrowed through the steam rising from his mug of muja-flavored tea. "Are you serious?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and turned to Harry, whose forehead was furrowed in thought. "Do you really think it will work?"

"No," Buffy replied with a snort. "But if I get paired with Spike or Angel one more time, I'm going to hurl."

Luke snorted. "At least you don't have hordes of profic writers creating a new girlfriend for you every book, and getting into ship wars over it."

Harry winced. "Can we not talk about ship wars, just this once?"

"Oh, please," Buffy said. "People slash you with half the characters in your books. My show is full of hot girls, but where's the femmeslash?"

"Hello, Faith?" Luke offered. "Willow? Anya? You get slashed. All I get is Han, who's beyond straight, and maybe the occasional Obi-Wan fic. And not the cute young Ewan version of him, mind you, but the old wrinkly version, who's like 50 years older than me." He shuddered.

"Which brings me back to the point," Buffy continued. "We go on strike. No muses, no new canon, no nothing until I get more pussy and you get more... whatever it is you get."

"Ass," Luke said, at the exact same moment Harry said, "Arse." They shot each other dirty looks.

Before Buffy could make a witty quip about Brit-picking, the door opened, and two young men walked in, looking around the room with wide eyes. Harry ran a hand through his hair and smiled at them, but Buffy was already on her feet and stalking towards them.

"Oh, no you don't -- your show's only been on for two seasons. The minimum for the Hero Club is three."

"Oh, come on," Luke said, a hint of a whine in his tone. "Their show just got renewed for a third. They'll be in here come fall anyway."

"There are rules," Buffy spat. "Just because they're cute incestuous brothers doesn't mean they get to bend them. Out!"

She closed the door and returned to her seat on the sofa. Luke and Harry exchanged a glance.

"That time of the month?" Harry asked, already holding his wand out to defect the bottle he expected her to hurl at him.

She closed her eyes. "No. I'm just frustrated that Xander gets more action than I do."

"As does Draco." Harry sighed.

"Yeah, but half of it's with you."

"So we strike," Luke said. He pulled the lightsaber hilt from his belt and held it out before him.

"Strike," Harry said holding out his wand.

"Strike," Buffy said, and rummaged through her purse for a stake. "Until they write us some fucking slash."
Spikebot/Xanderbot + Warren for Dustbunnies710 by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:
dustbunnies710 requested: BtVS, Spike/Xander. Cracktastic plot: Warren went crazy with the robot making
"Dance, my puppets, dance!" Warren cried, throwing his arms up in a Very Dramatic Fashion. Xanderbot and Spikebot turned to stare at him, blank looks on their faces. "No, I meant... continue with what you were doing. Got to work on those logic routines..."

Spikebot turned back to Xanderbot with a semi-evil sneer on his face. "For such a complete and utter wanker, you are rather attractive, I have to admit."

Xanderbot's smile was coy. "So I've been told. By many a vampire, I should add." At Spikebot's look of surprise, he added, "Well, not so many, you know. Many for me. You know, four, three... two. Well, just you, really. Unless you count that one time with Angel, but I don't because--"

"Get the fuck on with it!" Warren groaned. Xanderbot was a little too realistic for his taste. He'd work on it in the morning, but for now, this would have to do. He unfastened his jeans and pulled his dick out, which was already getting hard with anticipation.

The bots spared him a quick glance before turning back to each other.

"So you shagged Angel, then?" Spikebot asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "What was it like?"

Xanderbot blushed. "Well, I wouldn't say shag, cause, you know, I'm not all hip and British like you pretend to be. Wait, does shagging imply intercourse?"

Spikebot pursed his lips. "Technically? I'm not sure. I've always assumed it did, but maybe it doesn't have to do. Should I use a different word in this context?"

"If you would, kind sir."

"Right then. Did you fuck him?"

"No, of course not." Xanderbot replied with a snort. "Does Angel strike you as a bottom?"

Spikebot rolled his eyes. "Fine, did he fuck you?"

Xanderbot laughed. "No. Wait -- do blow jobs count?"

"Count as what?"

"As fucking? Like, if I gave Angel a blow job, hypothetically of course, does that count as him fucking me?"

Spikebot looked confused. "I'm not sure. It qualifies as penetration, but if it's in the mouth, is it a fuck?"

"It involves insertion of the penis in an orifice, right? I think that's technically fucking. Though most people associate fucking with a particular couple of orifices."

"One of which you happen to have," Spikebot said, leaning in for a kiss.

"No, don't stop! Not yet!"

They both turned to stare quizzically at Warren, who was stroking his dick fast and hard.

"Oh, yeah..." Warren groaned, "Just like that... keep talking dirty!"

"Um, all right," Xanderbot said. "So, orifices."

"Yeah," Spikebot replied, still watching Warren's blur of a hand. "And penises."

"Penii," Xanderbot corrected.

And with that, Warren came.
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