Work Text:
Alien Desires
by Molossus
Illyria crouched, her eyes inches from the television screen.
Spike smelled arousal. "What the bloody hell you watchin?"
"It is called Alien. I find him desirable."
"What? It's butt-face ugly!"
"It is built for the hunt. Vicious. Deadly. When I was God-King I would have found it a suitable mate."
Spike pouted. "I'm deadly."
"I am no longer God-King. I find you suitable, now."
"So I'm good enough for the economy model, eh?"
"You think you could compete with the Alien?"
Spike leered. "Come into my bedroom. I'll show you competition."
"Your opponent is not here."
"You won't care."
"Acceptable."