viciouswishes

It's that time of year again. Yes,

lornelover's birthday. So happy 21st Birthday to my Heterosexual Life Partner.

A little history lesson for those of you who don't know, lornelover and I first met when we were 12 at a birthday party for a mutual friend. We were the only two in the room that wanted to watch Star Trek: TNG instead of gossiping about boys. So we did. Yes, it was fandom from the beginning even if we did grow up in rural Oregon.

Then we met back up in high school where I dated her best friend,

cascadia_rain, and we also took those 'smart kid' classes together. We suffered through papers about The Scarlet Letter, which still give her nightmares, and had teachers that let us watch Blazing Saddles in AP U.S. History.

After high school, I rather drifted away from all the people I once knew, but on lornelover's 18th birthday, I ran into her at a They Might Be Giants and Common Rotation concert. I had only gone to the concert because of my ex. (Both lornelover and I were baby!Buffy fans at the time and were like 'that Common Rotation guy looks familiar.') Then we both realized that we were going to the same college in fall.

Once we made it to UPS, the rest is pretty apparent. And I, for one, know that my life wouldn't be completely with out my heterosexual life partner.

Since I won't be having my radio show today (stupid class obligation), I've uploaded a few songs that fit lornelover's taste in music.

Queen
Queen - Princes Of The Universe
Queen - Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy
Queen - Don't Stop Me Now
Queen - You're My Best Friend

80s New Wave
Tears for Fears - Mad World
The Cure - The Hanging Garden
King Missle - Detachable Penis

Disco
ABBA - Dancing Queen
Donna Summer - Last Dance

They Might Be Giants
They Might Be Giants - James K. Polk
They Might Be Giants - The Sun is a Mass of Incandescent Gas (live)
They Might Be Giants - Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

I also made a few icons for you.

and

And for the final hurrah, your birthday fic. We'll be going out for chocolate martinis when I'm back in Bend.

Title: Sometimes It's Hard to Live Under a Pineapple
Author: viciouswishes
For: lornelover
Beta: seino_chan
Rating: For Pervs Only (PG13ish)
Fandoms: Buffyverse, X-Men, Sponge Bob Square Pants, Oz, Atlantis, Lord of the Rings, Historical and Current RPF, Star Trek: DS9 and TNG, House, Quantum Leap, Gargoyles, Firefly
Pairings: Wesley/Gunn, Beecher/Keller, Beckett/McKay, Frodo/Sam, J.R.R. Tolkien/C.S. Lewis, Al/Sam

"I think I am in hea...van," a skinny blonde girl sang as her body was impaled with metallic claws.

"Oh thank god, I thought she'd never shut up," Spike grumbled. He checked the timer on his pie. He really hoped that she liked pie. She did spent a lot of time at Shari's. He looked down at the ridiculous oven mitt featuring a fish. "You're such a bloody ponce, Angel."

Frowning, Angel took another sip of his blood. He still hated the idea of human food. "Why don't you shut up, Spike. Everyone already knows you're British. You don't have to say 'bloody' or call me a 'ponce.' Trust me. We get it."

"But you are a ponce, tosser." Spike opened the oven again. "Besides, you shouldn't brood on such a holy day, the Birthday of the First Pope of the Holy Church of Nostalgia. She can officially drink the States today, not that there's a United States anymore."

"I still don't..." Angel sighed. He put his elbow on the counter and rested his head on it.

Spike snorted. "Yeah, though you'd be more peach than yellow in color. But guess that's what you get."

"I don't understand why I get literally turned into an asexual sponge today." Angel adjusted his little red tie.

Pausing in his reading, Wesley chuckled and looked over at them from the couch. He smiled when he felt Gunn's hand running along his back and snuggled back down. "Somehow I feel lucky that all I have to do is shoot something to make Pope Lornelover happy."

"Yep," Gunn kissed the top of Wesley's head, "she seems pretty happy when I'm wearing a suit." Heaven wasn't bad. Wasn't bad at all. "I'm glad we decided to start worshipping Nostalgia before Angel sent us after the Circle of the Black Thorns."

"Yes, this place is much better than lying on a hard floor with a knife stuck in one's gut, thank you, Joss Whedon." Wesley closed the book and turned in his lover's arms, kissing him.

"Wes seems to making it a tradition to complain about Joss on Lornelover's birthday." Angel picked up a tiny umbrella and swirled his drink with it, because he's just that gay even as an asexual sponge.

"Stop whining just because you don't have an enormous tool of love like the rest of us." Spike gripped his cock through the cooking apron he was wearing - the only thing he was wearing. He smirked and then went about taking the pie from the oven.

"What is that heavenly scent I smell?" Keller walked through the kitchen door, his arm slung around Beecher's waist. He scratched his chest with his free hand. "I think after a hard day of fucking we deserve some of it."

Beecher nodded. He was just happy that some fanfic writer didn't take it upon themselves to have Keller make the pie for him or some other dumbfuck thing like that. Keller could make water balloons out of condoms and a knife out of anything that was it. He also thanked Nostalgia for the strategically placed condom and lubricant dispensers all over heaven. Sister Pete was sure wrong about that Catholicism thing.

Spike sighed. "It's still hot. Besides someone has to get Rodney out of that damn tree again."

Beecher took a cookie from the Never Ending Heavenly Supply of Cookies Made by Someone's Grandma (tm). "Yeah, I could hear him and Beckett going at it all night."

"This week's Beckett, and the next week's Sheppard," Keller stole the rest of Beecher's cookie. "Good to know that there are some people out there without OTPs."

"And one wonders why Nostalgia let you into heaven." A man with a pointed hat and a long white beard entered the room. His walking staff was glowing. "In my time, one would've been punished for his crimes."

"Yep," Spike placed saran wrap on the top of the pie, "one is glad that Tolkien isn't writing this. Though he was totally shagging that Narnia bloke."

"C.S. Lewis," Wesley shouted before going back to sucking Gunn's cock.

Spike had noticed that Wesley and Gunn had been rather quiet and he'd heard the rattling of zippers. "Not to mention Frodo and Sam," Spike pointed out. He pulled out Angel's keys to his Viper. "Come on, pineapple dweller, seems like the wizard isn't going to do a thing for you, you being a mass murderer and all." He handed Angel the pie because asexual vampire sponges didn't eat pie and he needed to get dressed.

"You're one too." Angel grumbled as he wobbled down the stairway and into the garage. He didn't see why heaven didn't have transporters. He was sure that O'Brien could cook something up out of their spare oven parts, but no, Spike needed it to bake his precious pie.

Spike tuned the radio in to Viciouswishes' special radio broadcast of songs for Pope Lornelover and sang along with They Might Be Giants. He wasn't ashamed to know the words to "James K. Polk" and hey, he was ahead by knowing how to pronounce 'Oregon,' the home state of both the Pope and dj.

When they reached the hospital, Spike filled out the forms as Angel couldn't seem to work his hands properly and waited for the doctors.

"Cuddy wanted me to remind you that today is your day for clinic duty," a young doctor with a thick Australian accent said to a limping older doctor from the elevator. "It's getting your hands dirty, digging into the field work."

House shook his head. "Dr. Bashir, I'll be happy to send the next horny man sticking action figures up his ass your way." He then ignored Bashir who was following him like a puppy on his heels. "You seem to be in labor."

"I know." Sam groaned in pain as another contraction hit. He was thankful to be wearing a skirt when his water broke. "Al, get me out here."

"I'm trying." Al punched his controller. He needed to get Sam out of here as he had a date with Linda in an hour.

"And apparently crazy." House looked over at Bashir. "But I'm sure this genetically enhanced doctor can help you pop that baby right out." He tapped his cane on the floor. "Time to get your hands dirty, Doctor."

House moved over to Angel and Spike. "And you are apparently a sponge."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," Angel grumbled. "Look, why can't I have what's-his-genetically-enhanced-ass called. You're high."

House frowned. "Would you like a knee that throbbed even though you're apparently in heaven? Where your employer still goes out of her way to monitor your intake of Vicodin? Maybe you should've thought about that before destroying the entire planet. Some of us just want to get stoned and listen to the Who in peace and perhaps fuck other doctors who wear green ties."

Spike snorted. "Okay, Doogie, just take a look at him and give him something to take his mind off those ridiculous khakis."

"If you'd like Doogie Howser, I'm sure I can page the TV doctor." House popped a few pills into his mouth. "Besides, it's a simple spell issued by Pope Lornelover. Any idiot or sponge could see that. Now that you've wasted my time, I'm pretty sure General Hospital's on." Turning from them, House moved to the next patient, pulling them into a private room.

Angel sighed. "Just go to the party, Spike."

Spike felt like kissing Angel, but then he heard the crazy pregnant woman next to him grunting in labor pains and decided to pass. Here he'd thought that heaven would have a separate maternity ward where gay ~~men~~ vampires wouldn't have to be subjected to something that made the blood rise in his throat. "See you later." Spike dashed to the Viper and flicked on the warp drive controls he'd had Geordi install in the week before.

Lights glistened above the building, shinning larger than the Oscars against a bright blue sky. Of course, heaven had cleaner air compared to Los Angeles. Not that his vampire lungs cared. He flashed his executive pass and a bodyguard called Goliath who looked like an overgrown statue let him in.

The line was long to give Pope Lornelover her gifts. People and non-people brought gifts of all sizes from ponies to de-lusting spells. Lornelover had her share of obsessive stalkers because she was and is such a hotass.

"Gorramit," a large man muttered in front of him. He turned around toward Spike. A large gun was strapped to his chest, and Spike wondered just why Goliath had let the man in. He must know Pope Lornelover personally. "What do you think of this? It's one of my prize possessions." The man held up an orange knit hat.

Spike cleared his throat. "I'm sure she'll love it." He gave a half-smile and watched as the man was let in by an usher in army fatigues and name tag that read 'Ford.' Spike hummed along with the Queen song that played over the speakers. Rumor had it that Pope Lornelover kept Freddie Mercury on hand solely for personal performances.

As he was allowed to enter the Holy Hall, Spike kept his eyes adverted from looking up at her holiness. Sure they'd had lots of hot sex down on Earth, but he was still feeling a bit down from her last minute rejection of him before the Senior Partners destroyed the world. It wasn’t his fault that James Marsters was a wanker.

Without a word, he held his pie out for her. "I hope you enjoy it."

After Pope Lornelover took the pie, she cleared her throat. "Please look up, Spike."

"Yes, your holiness." Spike looked up to the radiant sight above him. She wore a gorgeous little black dress and completely drool worthy knee-high sliver boots. "You are effulgent."

Pope Lornelover rolled her eyes. "Like I haven't heard that one before. Your poetry is so pasted on yay. Now kiss my boots and I'll save a dance for you."