Ghost buster prompt: My Left Fang


Buffy shuffled blearily into the kitchen, filled the coffee pot, and turned around to see a vampire snarling at her.

"Ow!" Spike said, miserably, on the floor, holding his no-longer-bumpy forehead where Buffy had hit it with the coffee pot.

"Sorry!" Buffy reached to help Spike back up. "What were you doing in game face before breakfast?"

"My tooth is loose." Spike vamped out again and poked at his left fang. "Lookth."

It did, indeed, wobble as Spike poked at it. Buffy poked at it and he said "OW!"

"Well, don't vamp out."

The fangs and ridges melted away into a pout. Buffy wondered, not for the first time, where, exactly, the fangs went. She'd never felt any under-gum fang or anything, and she'd explored Spike's mouth pretty damn thoroughly over the course of their relationship.

Mmm Spike mouth. Buffy was momentarily distracted by that thought, and from the scowl on Spike's face she could tell she'd missed him saying something. "Hm?"

"What if there's another big bad before it heals? I'll have to bite 'em, and then I'll lose my bloody fang."

"You won't lose your fang. Not if you stop playing with it." She ruffled his hair. He pretended to be annoyed at that. "And even if you did, so what? I think it would be cute. Pugnacious."

Spike growled. "Don't want to be cute. I want to rip flesh out of demons."

Buffy had successfully wormed her way into his arms at this point, which was almost as good as having her coffee ready. "Well, next time don't bite the stone-skin demon." She kissed his nose, and he relented, sitting down with her to canoodle and wait for the coffee to boil. But she knew she'd have to keep smacking his fingers away from his teeth for a week or so.