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Domestic Piranha 13.0: Three Little Fishies

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8am, Spike

xanmdwr not awake ytet

treied wakinf hin up byy runnnimg ocver his head.. shou;ld justt go sleep[ on hios facxe again

note top self; sires sham[poo spelled. buigger.

4 little fishies

8:01am, Wesley

Angel and Gunn got in very late, last night. Fighting Rugashalag demons; I must remember to make a note in my Watcher's LJ that the head demon of that herd seemed a bit sentient, according to Gunn's description. If so, this would be a very interesting evolutionary development. But I must save my observations for my other lj -- I promised myself to keep this one strictly for personal notes.

I've got up early this morning to get caught up on cataloguing the volumes Angel had shipped here. I got as far as the second book. I'd much rather catalogue the books when I have time to sit and read them. Right now what I really want to do is wake Gunn and Angel up and get myself heartily shagged. I won't, because they've only had...four hours' sleep at this point.

Perhaps I should go downstairs and make some tea, and see what Cordelia is doing. It's been a few days since she and I have had a chance to talk without other distractions. I'm curious to know how she and Lorne are getting on.

I really should not wake Angel and Gunn up. They need their rest. They look exhausted: Gunn's shifted over from where I crawled out of bed and has spooned up behind Angel and-- Bugger it.

They can go back to sleep after. The books will wait until this afternoon.

9am, Angel

Wow. Meant to sleep til noon. Can't say I mind Wes waking us up early. Can't blame Gunn for falling asleep again. Can't blame Wes for falling asleep after what we did to him.

What I don't get is why I'm wide awake. I mean - I'm a vampire. Creature of the night. Shouldn't sleeping til noon come with the territory?

Maybe I should take a whack at getting those invoices done, so Wes won't have to rant about them for the rest of the day when he finally gets his ass back outta bed and downstairs to come to work.

I still think it's my company. How did he get to be in charge again?

Wonder where Cordy put the invoices.


current mood: chipper

9:11am, Xander

When did it become my job to keep Spike out of trouble? I don't mean 'dork, you married him, you didn't know?' because, yeah, figured that one out. I mean -- when did the universe decide my life wasn't weird enough that I had to fall in love with a vampire whose daily -- hourly -- joy in unlife is to make me keep him out of trouble, get him out of trouble, or distract him so he doesn't get back into trouble?

At least sex works. The trouble with that? Other than blisters and parts falling off and the realisation that my god, I'm getting old -- sometimes I don't feel like it. The trouble is that I have to be creative. Otherwise he's only distracted for as long as it takes me to have an orgasm. With Spike, that sometimes takes ten seconds.

At least my line of work provides me with a never-ending supply of ideas. And access to outfits.

By the way, the longest I've ever been able to keep Spike entertained, distracted, and out of trouble before we couldn't possibly have any more orgasms (without getting some sleep) is twelve hours and fifteen minutes.


current mood: thoughtful
current music: Spike, whining about still being a newt.

2 little fishies

9:30am, Cordelia

If he comes back in here one more time I swear I am going to tie his shoe laces together. Petty, I know, but he has his own desk, his own chair, his own office space.

Would it kill him to use it?

I mean, in the 'not already dead' sense. Hello? What part of 'this is my work area, why don't you try calling me on the intercom to ask if I have some file you've lost instead of walking in here and rearranging my files and acting like it's my fault you can't find things' does he not understand? I swear, after however many years, you would think Angel would catch a clue. He's how old? Two hundred and whatever? And he's like this huge...dork. I was going to be clever and picturesque, but 'dork' is a lot shorter.

If he comes in here one more time, I'm going to call Gunn and ask him to come down here and that will distract Mr. I Can't Find Anything. I--

Oh my god.

That's it. Where's my stake?


current mood: bitchy
current music: The Wanderers, "Where is my head"

2 little fishies

9:45am, Gunn

Man, do I *have* to be related to Spike? Even by marriage, or association, or the address on my driver's license or the fact that we live in the same state?

Angel won't let me dust him, Wes won't leave the little bastard as a newt for longer than a couple of hours... He says it's because Xander always gives him those big "But then I'll never get sex again" eyes, and he caves, but I think it's because he secretly likes Spike. He said once when he was drunk that Spike's the only person around here he can be English with. What, like I can't play darts and drink warm beer and have no taste in sports?

I wouldn't mind Spike so much if he didn't keep dragging *my* boyfriend out of *my* warm bed to turn his slimy little newt ass human again, which wouldn't be newty in the first place if he hadn't been messing around with our shit.

And then while he's up, Wes remembers this translation he's gotta check, or this note he was gonna make, and he's off to the damn library, and Angel's downstairs somewhere, and all I've got is a big cold bed and no guys to make it warmer.

I hate Spike. He fucks up my cuddle time, and that is *not* cool.

Wonder if Morrie updated his porn site recommendations?


current mood: cold

4 little fishies

10:30am, Angel

They never learn. You would think that they'd learn.

Well, after a hundred and thirty years you would think I would know Spike won't ever learn. But I always kinda thought Xander was smarter than that. Smart enough to know that pissing Cordelia off is a bad move. Heck, even I know not to deliberately piss Cordy off, and he dated her.

On the other hand, Xander lives with Spike. Maybe something rubbed off.

OK, I am not thinking about Spike and Xander rubbing. Really. (And if Wes ever finds this journal I'd just like to say I never think about them rubbing. Ever.)

On the other hand, this webcam thing is pretty cool. So everyone who does read this journal can see what Spike and Xander looked like, before Cordy got her hands on them.

She tells them not to role-play in the lobby, or the parking garage, or the garden, or the kitchen. Er - anyplace where she might go, really. They don't listen. At least they weren't doing Tarzan and Cheetah. This time.


current mood: damn glad it isn't me
current music: Fluid in Motion, PoleShift

10:48am, Morrie

Hey guys, gals, and indeterminately gendered persons of all species. Today we have a mixed bag of links, including one interdimensional site. My tech guys assure me that as long as the link is routed through the server, you should be able to get to them just fine.

First off, for those of us with a -- cough -- feather fetish -- cough -- : the Male Angels site. All the pretty flyboys you could ever desire, alone and with "friends." NC-17

For lovers of (mostly) good girls everywhere, there's -- a plethora of pinuppy pulchritude. Members Only for some functions, but plenty to whet your appetite in the sample section. Rowrrr. NC-17

For the boys who love boys and girls and boys who love to read about the boys who love boys, we have: The Original Slash Archive. NC-17

And finally... Well, I'm not sure what to make of this (NC-17) except to say that either somebody we all know and love really gets around, even in his alternate universe incarnations, or more likely, somebody we all know and love has far too much free time, even in his alternate universe incarnations.

Which is why somebody's husband should never have bought him an iMacX for his birthday. I'm just sayin'. I draw the assembled witnesses' attention to the Great Claymation Fiasco of 2006. (Copies still available at our regular low bargain prices. Free novelty condom and pop-up book for the kids with every purchase. Stop in today!) And that was without the enhanced multimedia editing software.


current mood: chipper
current music: "Morrie's, always open, when you're hopin', for a ropin'..."

4 little fishies

11am, Xander

You know, I never thought I'd be able to convince Spike to carry around his PDA at all times, when I first got one for him. I got us new PalmCopter3x PDAs last Christmas and told him to use it -- he played with it for half an hour before deciding it couldn't actually capture video files, so what was the point. (I use mine for work, which is how I manage to never quite go into the office 5 days of the week, despite my trying to get out of bed and dressed and head to the office before Spike wakes up, but I digress).

But now, sometimes I think he deliberately manages to get us locked in separate rooms, just so we can have cybersex over wireless PDA email. It's a kink, like the way I make him dress up as Angel. Or maybe that's his kink. I don't remember, now.

If Cordelia knew, of course, she'd have taken them away from us before making us sit in 'Time Out,' me in Wes' empty office and Spike locked in the basement. As it is, I think Spike got the better deal because he at least can get his hand down his pants. Me, I have a picture window and everyone staring at me if I tried. Not that it would stop Spike, and maybe that's why Cordy didn't lock him up here. Which would mean that she knows what we're doing... or no, it probably just means that she knows Spike too well.

I need to send him an email, though, that says I'm jerking off.


current mood: horny

11:02am, Spike

I'd just like to point out for the record that I am a completely grown vampire and do not *have* to go sit in Time Out just because Princess (any of 'em; that includes Dru) says so. I'm only doing it 'cos it's fun to send Xan porny messages over the PDA, and I can download pics from the webserver for inspiration at the same time.

Ok, fine, also because Cordelia gets nasty when you cross her. Witness the sad fate of proto-Skippy when she found the vids it caught of her surfing boyband slash sites.

But there was nothing wrong with dressing as pimps in the hotel lobby; it's not like Angel doesn't do it all the time. Not like I actually came right out and asked her, either, if she wanted to join in and play the Ho. All I did was compliment her skirt. What? I like short skirts!

Wonder if she'd stop 'punishing' us if she realized I usually picture her in corset and fishnets, snapping a small flail against her thigh, while she's yelling? Best not let her know.

Gah. Can't get image out of head. Must send new message to Xander, even though it's not my turn yet. Unless he's sent e-mail already. Should go check.


Ack! More later!


current mood: amused
current music: (and horny)

12pm, Gunn

It does not pay to be me today. I swear - first I get woken up after getting about two seconds of sleep -- even if it was for a really damn good reason. It still means I'm tired and that means I'm cranky and I don't have to be reasonable when I'm cranky.

Then I get my post-Wes-sex-cuddle interrupted, and when I decide to salvage what I can of the day by going downstairs to see if Angel and or Wes can be distracted from whatever work-related shit they're doing, I get attacked by Cordy yelling at me to do something -- I still don't know what she was saying. All I heard was 'Spike' and 'Xander' and when those two went running past me in two of the stupidest outfits God ever put on a white boy, I figure I don't wanna know and I don't care.

So I'm trying to just sneak off to the library where Wes has probably hidden himself away -- bet he didn't even hear what was going on in the lobby -- and Cordy tells me I have to fix the door. 'What door?' I ask, like a moron.

Turns out Spike kicked down the basement door (which was locked why? Cordy said something about Time Out. I wasn't going to ask for details) because he thought Xander was jerking off without him.

Somebody, please, if you can hear me -- we need an infestation of demons. Evil, slimy, Pinto-eating demons so I can go kill things and not have to listen to any more about anyone's sexcapades except my own.

And I am not fixing that door. Not until Angel can help me and make it at least a little more interesting. And then we still might not fix it, if we decide to go dig out Wes from his books and go find some lunch. Lorne had the right idea -- he came by half an hour ago, took Cordy out to lunch. Maybe I can get Wes to go to lunch with me and we can leave Angel to repair the door because it's all his fault Spike is pissing me off, anyhow. He turned Drusilla, then let her keep Spike. Man shoulda known that would come back to bite him in the ass.

And if it doesn't, I will.


current mood: pissed off
current music: Los Tangeros, "Mutta Whot"

12:02pm - Xander's Account

Krumch Blood bones 4Tare bpnes tare TARE TZRE BLIIsss blod k4unch deATH


current mood: hungry

12 little fishies

1:04pm, Xander


Came back to the suite (by way of stairwell, by way of library, by way of kitchen, by way of stairwell) to wash strawberry syrup off the pimp clothes, and found Dru at the keyboard. How she gets in without a key is something Spike and I haven't figured out yet. When we asked her what she was doing she said, "The Children needed to Commune with the World. So many people..." Etc. Spike spent an hour making sure she hadn't erased any of his movies, or subscribed to AOL or something.

She barely remembers how to read, and god knows where she learned to type, so I wouldn't have thought she'd even be able to connect to the web.

What am I saying? We have a Mac, champion computer of the artsy types and the computer illiterate, where if you can click on the pretty icons you can get around like a pro.

Ow. (Mentioned that out loud and Spike just threw a pillow at me. Not that it hurt, but it's the principle of the thing.)

Dru said the children were hungry and that Gomer wanted "scurrying, drowning flesh and blood - white with whiskers," so I assume she means more mice. Spike has been spoiling Gomer lately with whatever Auntie Dru says she wants because "a mummy-to-be has her cravings."

I said Gomer's working the situation rather well for an egg-laying species who's already laid her eggs, but Dru frowned at me, Spike pouted, and I got the weirdest feeling that Gomer was sizing me up. She had that same look she gets when we get a fresh bubbly diver.

Made Spike call our local pet supply shop -- hope they can deliver before Gomer burns a hole through my head with the death glare…

Oh great. Now she has the other two doing it, too.

Wonder what Dru actually *did* get up to before we chased her out?

Edit, 1:07pm: Ah. That. Much thanks to [info]journalkitten for pointing it out.


current mood: nervous
current music: fishtank bubbles

3 little fishies

2:17pm, Lorn (e)?

I don't know. Should I add the e? People (read, Cordelia) keep telling me I should, since that's how the entertainment industry folks are going to spell it anyway, and if I want to make it big... But there *isn't* a second e in Krevlornswath. It's just not there. I can see taking letters *away* to make a nickname, but why would you add them? Humans.

Maybe I should just change my name to That Green Swishy Guy, Formerly Known As The Host. That's what the jerk at the next table called me (minus the formerly known as) when I took Cordelia out to lunch today. Now I admit to being, just occasionally -- ok, most of the time -- a little tiny bit flamboyent -- ok, flaming -- but swishy? *Swishy* ? There's a difference between showing some sartorial taste and walking like you've got a loose ball-bearing in your hip-sockets.

Swishy, my non-swishy ass. He was just jealous that I was spooning chocolate fondue into the mouth of the prettiest gal in the room, and no matter how many times he elbowed the waiter and said "I'll have what he's having," it wasn't gonna happen.


current mood: contemplative
current music: A Sasquatch singing "Candle On The Water." Help me, please.

2 little fishies

2:21pm, Wesley

I should have stayed in England. I swear -- the last time, or the first time, or any other chance I had to go back to England. I should have - instead I'm here, stuck here, listening to....

They're adorable, really. But if I had a sword handy I would go out there and simply -- actually, that's not a bad idea. I could borrow an ax and turn the door into kindling, then I wouldn't have to listen to those two argue over the proper procedure for repairing it. Why they don't simply make Xander pay for actual carpenters to come in, I don't know. I'm not about to ask, either, because the last time Spike kicked down a door in order to get to Xander to have sex, the topic came up and I still don't understand the reasoning.

I would agree that it allows Gunn and Angel to bond, if it didn't sound more like Gunn is about to run a sharp wooden object through Angel's chest if he doesn't stop being irritating, and if Angel didn't sound like he was about to toss Gunn down the basement stairs if he doesn't stop being irritating. If that's what they want, then more power to them.

But why does my desk have to be within earshot? I would take everything upstairs to work on, but it's enough books I'd have to get Angel to help carry them, and that would just get Gunn started on 'we're halfway there, we don't wanna stop now.' Perhaps he just says that because he thinks I'll keep Angel upstairs with me.

Hmm. That's not a bad thought. Although Gunn will consider it yet another delay -- though the first was his own fault, for not getting started for so long, then the second was Angel's fault for stopping to engage in questionable behaviour when he and Gunn went to fetch the tools. (I could hear them -- if there had been any shouting, I'd have joined them, but as far as I could hear it never got past the groping and kissing stage.) The third was my fault, but I was hungry and I don't like to have lunch alone with they're right nearby.

I suppose they've really only been working on the door for half an hour, now. And that only because Cordelia and Lorne returned and Cordelia saw that not a thing had been done about it. Perhaps I'll just go see if Lorne has any ideas about this Rufleckian demon spawning ritual.


current mood: irritated
current music: Cruxshadows, Ode to Dvorak

3:10pm, Cordelia

Lorne has really pretty eyes.


current mood: happy
current music: The Xores, Make of Me

3:35pm, Spike

Not fair. Absolutely, positively not fair. No business calls on the weekend! It's a rule! And definitely no business calls where he locks himself in our bedroom and doesn't let me in to distract him, even just a little. It's in the bylaws! It's in the wedding vows!

Right, fine, so it's not technically the weekend. But Wednesday might as well be the weekend. I mean, it's just two days away from Friday. And yeah, it's technically a workday, but like he ever goes in on Wednesdays? Wednesday is Cuddle in Bed With Spike Til Noon Then Bring Him Belgian Waffles With Blood In The Little Squares Day, dammit!

Yes, I just invented that. So what?

Not remotely fair.


current mood: grumpy

2 little fishies

3:37pm, Xander

Spike is such a dork. He thinks I either can't hear him whining through the door, or that I don't care that he's naked and pouting at me. When have I ever not cared that he's naked and pouting?

I sometimes would actually rather he not be -- right before every single annual stockholder's meeting comes to mind, vividly. And there was the time my grandmother was in town and kept popping in to see if we wanted to go to lunch or midnight snack or see what she and Cordelia had bought or… Spike figured that giving her a room on the second floor would keep her away from us long enough to have our regular regime of sex. I tried to tell him grandmothers were worse than mothers for walking in on you when you were just about to do something really horrendously embarrassing but did he listen? Probably, and that's why he did it. Bastard.

But generally, I like him naked. Pouting or otherwise. Sometimes I like him pouting and not naked, because then I get to unwrap. But to think I don't notice?

He is such a dork. He takes after his Sire, and you can tell them both I said so. Um. Not when I'm in town, though.

But I finished my business call, which took two minutes, then I got online and went to Morrie's website to order the sweatshirt he just got in. They'll be on the racks this Thursday, but all the new stuff shows up on the web a few days early. The sweatshirt is for Spike because despite all his whining about being Mr. Tough Guy to the contrary, he does still get cold, even in California. The shirts have rubber ducks on them -- and are, I think, one of only three items in his entire store that can be said to not be adult items.

Got the glow in the dark rubber boxer shorts, too.


current mood: busy
current music: Spike, whining. Are we detecting a theme, here?

6 little fishies

4:02 pm, Spike

I won. I always win. (I also never lie.)

He let me in. And then someone had to be punished.

Er. Me. Because I won the coin toss.

I told you I always win.


current mood: smug
current music: nyah, nyah-nyah nyah-nyah, in my head

4 little fishies

4:45 pm, Angel

Do I want to know how?

I don't think I want to know how.

I'm sure I don't want to know why, but how?

Is it going to do me any good to know how a $700 e-charge for exotic acquarium supplies not only showed up on the Angel Investigations company credit card when Wes has it anti-Spike-and-Xander-spelled from here to Cleveland -- but was apparently signed for by one Hubert Bloody Chase Harris Gunn Wyndam-Pryce Summers Rosenberg Jones? Only spelled much, much worse?

They can't type. They can't possibly type.

What if they're mutating?

See, I shouldn't know.

Opposable thumbs.

I need a drink.


current mood: uncomfortable

4 little fishies

4:58 pm, Wesley

I don't want to know. Lord, sometimes I wonder if I fell on my head as a youth and woke up in an alternate dimension without realising it. Actually - I could perform a spell to determine that. I'll have to do that soon. Tomorrow, perhaps.

Until then I shall simply accept that I will never understand most of what goes on in Angel's head. He's just come through here, demanding that I put a spell on the piranhas to prevent them from growing fingers.

As though it weren't enough that there is a spell to keep them out of our suite, and especially our hot tub. This is NOT what the Council trained me as a wizard, for.

Maybe I'll go do that spell now.

5:07 pm, Cordy

The 5 Least Surreal Things That Have Happened To Me Today

  1. I just got an e-card from Xander's fish.
  2. It's not the first time.
  3. Gomer tyoes better than Spike does when he's a newt.
  4. Gomer types better than me.
  5. It says it was sent at lunchtime but it just showed up now. And the timestamp at the top says--

    Ohmygod! Five minutes! Where's my camera?


current mood: rushed

2 little fishies

5:27 pm, Xander

I'm a Grandpa!



current mood: stunned

2 little fishies

5:38pm, Gunn

When the HELL did it become normal to think baby piranha were cute?

If I ever visit a psychotherapist, he's gonna pump my ass so full of drugs and throw me in a little room faster than it takes Wesley to lose focus when you suck on his little finger.

Which I'd go do, but everyone's up in Spike and Xander's room, and Cordy's on the phone calling people. Like anyone cares that fish have hatched?

Damn. Morrie's website lists gifts "appropriate for young piranha." OK, so the hats are kinda cute.

5 little fishies

6:00pm, Spike's Account

It's raining babies! They're all over sparkles. Come swim in the green with us!


current mood: ecstatic

6:02pm, Spike

Er. Baby shower. She means baby shower. Come for the grandkids, stay for the all-night lime-jello-party in the pool.


current mood: Grandkids!
current music: Chemical Bros. - Block Rockin' Beats

2 little fishies

6:05pm, Spike

1. Xander says I should make it clear to everybody that the grandkids aren't in the pool. I say he underestimates your sense of adventure.

2. Angel says swimsuits are not optional.

3. Angel can suck eggs. It's Dru's pool, after all.


current mood: busy
current music: Right Said Fred (Cuppa Tea) - Bernard Cribbins

4 little fishies

6:10pm, Xander's Account

Th3e Ennd!



current mood: fishy!
current music: Swim said the mama fishy! Swim if you can!