Three Times A Day, After Meals
by Wirrrn
Pairing: Doyle/Angel, Doyle/Angel/Xander
SPOILERS: Are You Nuts? Whedon wouldn't touch this one with a 10foot stake...
SUMMARY: Oral Hygiene of the Damned.
DISCLAIMERS: Everyone involved in this insanity belongs to Floss--
er, Joss, except the Tooth Fairy; he's mine, though I'll be pulling his
wings off and flushing him down the toilet the second he bores me....
NOTES: For Viridian5, Jet and Adalisa, righteous cyber-buds and
BuffyBoy-slashers. This big ball of lunacy inspired by a dream I had
about David Boreanaz (he wore a pink leather TANK TOP, since you're
asking) and the evil toothache from hell I've been suffering in
anything-but-silence for a week, due to an overbooked dentist. A
plague on both his bicuspids . . .
FEEDBACK: Damn straight. WIRRRN@HOTMAIL.COM. I'm an Australian
gayboy--blame this on the Ozone Layer Hole.
THREE TIMES A DAY, AFTER MEALS.
By Wirrrn.
"If it goes on long enough, most pain can be
eventually overcome and ignored.
-Injuries to the back, genitals and teeth, however,
present special problems."
WILLIAM BURROUGHS "JUNKY"
"Dentists tell you not to pick your teeth with
any sharp, metal object.
Then you sit in their chair,
-and the first thing they grab is an iron hook."
BILL COSBY
Angel lay back on the bed, naked as the day he was born (though
somewhat older and minus the umbilical cord and functional
Cardiovascular system), allowing himself a most un-Angelesque
megawatt grin. Of course, aforementioned grin made a lot more sense
when you took into account the view the vampire was getting- a nice,
up close and (very) personal ECU of Allen Francis Doyle, the part
Irish- demon (or part-demon Irishman, whatever floats your boat),
equally naked, if not quite as musclebound (nor, for that matter,
quite as tanned-but it's best not to think about that) and currently
bringing some of his favourite body parts into repeated and
vigorous contact with some of Angel's.
As they continued to roil together over the entire surface of
the bed, turning the sheets into both a Forensic Investigator's
dream and a domestic help's worst nightmare, Angel stroked his
diabolical friend's head, carding fingers through sweat-scented
ebony hair and vaguely wondering where Doyle kept his horns. Mind
you, given their current activities, he had a theory...
Doyle's mouth, not to be left out of the fun his hips seemed to be
having, chose this moment to do something to the larger vampire's
body that Angel wouldn't have thought physically possible, but
nevertheless had him howling, like Oz that time he'd come for dinner
and Cordelia, wanting to make a good impression, had mistakenly set
his place with the Silverware.
Gripping Doyle's wiry frame tighter to his own, Angel sprawled under
his friend's ministrations,thanking St Vigeous he'd finally had the
courage to go with his feelings and do more than just hold the
little demon during his latest vision/fugue-- The moment Doyle froze
up as the vampire's lips found his had almost stopped the vampire's
heart-- it was only when he began enthusiastically kissing back that
Angel remembered it had been stopped for a good long while by
itself, anyway. He felt more alive-metaphorically speaking- than he
had in years, and could happily spend the NEXT two hundred and fifty
years in this same position- or at least until Buffy found out that
he was (shock, horror) having a great time without her and caught
the next flight over to put his leash on again, whichever camefirst.
However, the question of whether or not Angel could weather the next
two and a half centuries in bed with Doyle despite attacks from
outraged baby-teed slayers, bed-sores or severe loss of bodily
fluids would have to remain moot, sequel pending, as Doyle chose
that moment to slide his tongue between Angel's lips in a deep kiss.
"Ow!" said the vampire.
The slightly built demon broke the kiss, cocking his head, lust and
concern warring on his face.
"You okay, love? I didn't prick you or anythin', did I?"
Seeing the vampire's smirk, Doyle cut off the double entendre before
it got out "Don't even think about sayin' it...." He grinned, red eyes
glowing "You know what I mean...."
Angel nodded. "No, you didn't. Besides," Angel's own eyes shone
sulfur in the moonlight "making out in GameFace was my idea; I can
handle a few spines...."
Angel licked the tip of the thorn tapering from Doyle's chin, then
the slightly swollen nub of flesh at its base, where the thorn
disappeared into the seaweed-flushed flesh.
"Careful, love...uh...they're poisonous...I wouldn't...Oh, God..."
The rest of Doyle's half-hearted warning submerged beneath a
throaty, semi-alto purr, and his lips found Angel's again.
"Mmmph...Doyle...mmmAAaaoww!"This time the young demon's face was all concern.
"Angel? What's wrong? - and don't give me that 'everything's okay so
let me suffer in silence' routine, neither--I'm not as gullible as
everybody at the dog track thinks I am."
Doyle gently moved his mouth against Angel's again, trying to find
the source of his friend's pain. No thorn punctures to the lips, no
wayward splinters lodged in the gums. (The vampire found this
particularly agonizing--when a sliver of wood from a poorly milled
fortune cookie paper wedged in his mouth some months back, Angel's
snarled, impressively decibeled and frequent profanities alone had
sent two djinn, a were-puma and a petroleum demon running from the
greater Los Angeles area).
As Doyle's tongue brushed lightly over Angel's right canine,
however, the vampire's eyes dilated hugely and his jaw
involuntarily snapped closed, nearly taking the source of Doyle's
melodic accent, appreciation for the peaty flavour of Guiness, and
ability to give the best head since Ichabod Crane, with it.
Angel moaned. "I never thought I'd say this, Doyle, but...please
stop kissing me...."
Doyle's own gums throbbed in sympathy //I hope// as he placed a
gentle, cooling hand on his friend's uncharacteristically clammy
brow. Damn, he was good at this Florence Nightingale stuff //Allen
Francis Doyle, Lady of the Friggin' Camp....//
Sympathy for the larger man warred with his naturally mischievous
nature. Unable to help himself //surprise; I'm a demon// he grinned at his
lover."A vampire with toothache? This would be one of them moments Alanis
Morrisette's always wailing on about then, right? What's next? Oz
with mange? Cordelia allergic to designer labels? or maybe
developin' shopaholicism...not that we'd notice...."
Despite his tooth nerves enthusiastic rendition of the macarena in
his upper jaw, Angel managed a smile. "You know, for someone who
screamed 'I love you, ya undead lug' at least three times in the
last hour, you're being remarkably unsympathetic."
Doyle's narrow, pleasantly pale shoulders moved upwards in a shrug as
he smirked "What can I say, guy? Demon. Enjoying abject suffering
comes with the territory...."
Angel slapped him on the arm. "I hope you get an ingrown cloven hoof,
you sadist."Doyle caught the hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then leaned
forward and kissed Angel's forehead. Slipping out of bed and into
his pants and jacket--but no shirt, Angel noted with approval--he made for
the bathroom."I'll see if we've any aspirin left, love. Mind you, Xander popped
no small number last night.""Why?"
"Cordelia conned him into reading lines with her."
"God...never mind me, give the poor guy the rest of the bottle...."
Doyle returned with the pills. "Open up"
"I thought I already did that...."
"Cute. Yer smartarse mouth, gorgeous. Or do I have ta pinch yer
nose?...Oh wait, that won't work...."
Angel's sulfur eyes laughed with yellowy triumph as he opened his
mouth. Doyle suddenly jolted, his hand jerking back. "What the bloody
Hell...something bit me!" Angel's face began to move back into the
familiar folds of his GuiltFace. "No, not you ya big idjit...."
Doyle leaned forward and squinted at the vampire's fangs. The
spoiled carrion scent coming from the throat no longer bothered him. He
wondered if he was a pervert. Peering close, Doyle
looked like a circus performer about to put his head in the lion's
mouth. Good thing this particular lion was a pussycat once you
learned to rub him right.
"There's something in yer mouth, love, it's hangin' onto yer uvula
for grim death...."
"My what?"
"The little dangly thing at the back of yer throat.... Never let it
be said I don't teach ya anythin'.... Hang on...."
Doyle reached into his friend's maw,half-expecting to extract a moth.
//Now I know what Jodie Foster felt like.//
Doyle and Angel gave simultaneous, embarrassingly high pitched yelps
as, with a flash of light and a puff of iridescent pixie dust,
something shot from the cavity in the vampire's fang.
It was tiny. It had wings and a wand. Its eyes were so huge and
sickly sweet they'd give Steven Spielberg hypoglycemia.
Doyle's mouth dropped in a gape Angelus would've been proud of. "Holy
crud, it's the fuckin' Tooth Fairy!"
The Tooth Fairy blinked at Doyle, then shook its finger at him,
admonishing him for his language. It floated across the room,
stopping just in front of Angel's (firmly closed) lips. It tapped
them with its wand, cocked its head and waited, humming quietly to
itself. "Tra la la...."Clearly it wanted back in.
Speaking with difficulty through clenched fangs (clenching fangs
together being difficult enough by itself) Angel said, "No. I don't
know what you get up to in there, but it hurts like hell. I shouldknow...."
The Tooth Fairy tapped its foot. It sniffled. It did the Disney
anthropomorphic puppy eyes thing.
Angel remained unmoved. If he could refuse to attend one of
Cordelia's Get-Noticed parties as her "pseudo-spouse" and suffer
through the resultant nagathon, he could refuse anyone. Especially
if said anyone was currently doing that whiny, pouty thing that he'd
always thought was trademarked to Buffy.
Five seconds later, Angel was careening about the room, randomly
bouncing off furniture and Objet D'Art as he tried frantically to
remove three inches of irate fairy from his left nostril.
( Angel's elderly downstairs neighbour looked with chagrin at her
thumping ceiling //he must be trying to dance again,// she thought,
//poor deluded boy....//)
The enraged Fairy had just about managed to deviate Angel's septum
with the crook of its wand when Doyle leapt to his feet, GameFaceon, and roared.
"Hey! Tinkerbell! Get your mitts off my life partner!"
The Fairy shot from the vampire's nose and made a beeline...well,
elfline really...for the young demon. A lifetime of extracting
molars and incisors had clearly given it a taste for blood.
Doyle swallowed. //God, I hope Peter Pan wasn't all hot air and
pantyhose....// Taking a deep breath, he yelled, "I don't believe in fairies!"
The Tooth Fairy, suddenly as aerodynamic as an African elephant, dropped
from the air, hitting the carpet with a tiny, indignant
squawk and lay still, wings crumpled crisply about it like a mayfly
fried with a magnifying glass.
Doyle ran over to Angel, and hugged him. "Are you okay, love?"
Angel nodded. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he was out of
breath. "I'm fine..." He tongued his fangs, gingerly. "and cavityfree...."
The part of the vampire that was still Angelus looked with approval
at the sudden predatory gleam in the Irishman's eyes. Doyle turned
the hug into an embrace, and sent his hands on a survey of the area
immediately South of Angel's lower back. Their lips brushed, Doyle
once again wondering what had possessed him to once fancy Cordelia
instead of the massive Adonis before him. He wasn't technically sure
if a demon could be possessed, but with Cordelia, anything waspossible....
There was a shrieking howl from behind them.
They turned as one to find the still irate, if now somewhat singed,
Tooth Fairy had not only gotten back on its feet, but had shifted
into its GameFace. //I didn't even know fairies had one...//
It was still clothed in a pink tutu, only it was now cut a LOT lower
and was made from pink leather. The star at the tip of its wand had
become a five-bitted electric drill. Its skin was chalk white, and
shone as if enamelled. Huge, ivory tusks stood from its scalp in
lieu of hair. A human tooth--roots still attached--hung from eachearlobe.
And it was now ten feet tall.
"TRA LA LA...." It roared. It had more rows of teeth than the shark
from Jaws. Parts One through Four.
As they watched, the deranged Tooth Fairy extracted a large wad of
tinfoil from a pouch on its belt, slipped it into its mouth andbegan to chew.
The inhuman lovers yowled in unison.
Grinning hugely (not that it could grin any other way) the Tooth
Fairy threw a handful of quarters at their feet, then reached into
its brassiere and produced the largest, rustiest pair of pliers
either of them had ever seen. I'm telling you, Hellraiser's Pinhead
would have wet dreams over these babies.
In a high, shrill voice more suited to a dentist's office or Celine
Dion Christmas Special, the Tooth Fairy boomed at them:
"TIME TO PAY UP!" It said.
It flew towards them, somewhat less gracefully than before in light
of the fact that its wings had neglected to grow with the rest ofits body.
Angel moved to step protectively in front of Doyle at the same time
as Doyle moved to step protectively in front of Angel, with the
result that no-one stood protectively in front of anyone, but simply
moved a step closer to hideous and downright embarrassing death.
Just as the creature reached for them, there was a clutterous
bumping from the stairs, and the door burst open.
Xander stood framed in the doorway, panting. "Doyle?! Oh, a
demon....Thank God....I thought Angel was dancing again...."
Angel protested "I keep telling people, I don't dance!"
Doyle, shouting above the creature's din, yelled at Xander to get
down 'It's not a demon--It's a Tooth Fairy! and it seems to have
unresolved hostility issues!"
Xander stopped, turned, and regarded the pastel pink horror. "A
tooth Fairy, eh? Trying to snag some supernatural teeth to impress
the boss, I suppose...." He looked the Fairy in the eye. "NO-ONE
messes with the oral hygiene of the friends of Xander Harris...."
The Fairy's eyes widened as Xander spoke his name.
With lightning speed, Xander dove into his ever present book bag,
producing a handful of Twinkies. With a triumphant yell, he leapt
onto the creature's shoulders and began mashing the cakes into itsbody.
The Tooth Fairy yowled as its flesh began to dissolve, unable to
withstand the sugary onslaught of the individually wrapped snack
treats. It pitched and rolled about the room, but Xander wouldn'tbudge.
Eager to help, Doyle grabbed a handful of M&M's from the bag and
pitched them in the creature's direction, then went for its eyes
with an Oreo. Angel, meanwhile, rode shotgun with a jar of hazelnut
praline chocolate body paint, which both did terrible things to the
monster and pleasant things to the vampire's own, still naked, body.
Within five minutes, the insane Tooth Fairy had been reduced to a
melted puddle of ivory goop in the centre of the room that
occassionally gurgled in a moribund way. The three boys too, looked
somewhat the worse for wear-two bedraggled, one naked, all seeming
to have been through an industrial accident at Willie Wonka'schocolate factory.
Angel looked at his friends, wincing when he saw a large splash of
caramel staining the beautiful folds of Doyle's leather jacket.
"Well," he said. "I guess I'd better hit the showers. I may be in
there for a while though-- I've got so much cocoa butter on me I feel
like Count Chocula..."
Xander and Doyle look down at their own calorie-laden clothing, then
up at each other. They turned to the vampire with matching smirks ontheir faces.
"Need a hand?" They asked.
Some hours later, Cordelia Love Chase was wrestling with both her
key in the lock and the temptation to wring the scrawny neck of a certain
television writer who turned her down flat for a role in an
upcoming X-Files-For-Teens type show. //Not believable as a vampire
hunter, my pert buttocks....//
Key finally in the door, she stopped, cocked her head, listening-
and then fled down the stairs, intending to find the writer and take
any role he offered her, even the cheerleader bimbo role he
suggested she'd be perfect for. Anything to avoid going into Angel's
apartment for the next few hours.
From the wild groans and bumping sounds coming from within, it
sounded like he was dancing again.
The End.
FEEDBACK: to wirrrn@hotmail.com
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