Here goes my BtVS/Paddington Crossover:
Paddington and the Punks by Bogwitch
On a wild and woolly night, Mr Brown opened the door of 32 Windsor Gardens to a couple of very strange people.
“Hello,” The young man beyond the threshold greeted him politely. “We’re looking for some shelter. Our car has er… broken down.”
“It’s all smashed and there’s no one to fix it,” said the woman that accompanied him.
Mr Brown looked at them sceptically. These two looked like a couple of those punk rockers he’d heard Mr Curry complaining about just the other day.
As he thought over what he was going to do, Mrs Brown appeared at the door. “Let these poor people in, Mr Brown,” she said. “They must be soaking wet out there in all that rain.”
Indeed the young lady at the door looked bedraggled and very unhappy. “Oh yes, please. We are so very hungry.”
“Very well,” Mr Brown grumbled. “Please come in. I shall ask Mrs Bird to put out some tea and cakes.”
“Don’t mind if we do,” the young man said as he escorted his lady inside. Unnoticed by his hosts, who had turned their backs on the couple to led them inside, his eyes shone with an inhuman amber glow and his forehead started to thicken into heavy brows.
“Naughty Spike!” Drusilla whispered, and his change stopped abruptly. “There’s something special about this place.”
After introductions had been made, The Brown’s led the couple through into an elegant reception room. In an armchair sat a small bear, wrapped up warmly in a big blue duffle coat and huge black hat. Mr Brown made his excuses and went to speak to the housekeeper, while Mrs Brown went to fetch some towels to dry their guests.
The bear sniffed and not liking what he smelt, he fixed the couple with a hard stare.
Drusilla approached the bear with curiosity. She poked it with a bony finger. “Spike, this bear wears clothes like Miss Edith does.”
“My name is Paddington,” said Paddington. “You are very rude, if I may say so and I sincerely hope that Miss Edith does wear clothes, because that would be impolite.”
Spike grabbed Drusilla around the middle and pulled her away. He put himself between her and the strange bear. “Dru, be careful.”
“Don’t mind me,” said Paddington, pulling a sandwich from out from under his hat.
Spike watched fascinated as it was consumed within seconds.
"I say," said Paddington. "That is a very black coat. Where do you keep your sandwiches in it?"
“We don’t eat sandwiches.”
“You don’t?” Paddington asked. That sounded very peculiar indeed. “Not even Marmalade ones?”
Drusilla stared up into the stars of memory or some such thing. “Mother used to have Marmalade at breakfast. The spoons were silver.”
Spike nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t really listening to his girlfriend’s rambling. He told Paddington. “We’re vampires. We tend to prefer blood.”
“That doesn’t sound very nice,” Paddington was outraged. Blood? With sandwiches! That would never do. “I shall have to ask Mr Gruber about that when I see him next.”
“You do that,” Spike agreed. This was getting too weird, even for him, and he’d seen some sights in his time. He slipped into game face. “But first I think I’ll try me some bear.” With that he grabbed Paddington by the lapels of his duffle coat and pulled him out of the seat.
“Help! Help!” Paddington cried and he tried to fight back, but he wasn’t a very strong bear and only managed to flail his arms and legs around.
Spike was laughing, but he wasn’t very amused when Paddington’s struggles knocked off the big black hat and a marmalade sandwich landed on his head. It slid down, covering his hair and face in a thick layer of sticky marmalade.
“Arrrgh!” Spike growled and he dropped Paddington, much to the bears’ relief. “It’s in my bloody eye!”
Paddington picked up his hat and slipped it back onto his head. He didn’t like this couple at all. “I think you both should leave.”
“Yeah,” Spike agreed, humiliated and half blind. This house wasn’t any fun. “I think you’re right.”
Spike grabbed Drusilla by the wrist and dragged her back out of the house; they’d try next door instead. Hopefully, there would be no bears there.
Paddington settled back into his armchair. He reached into his suitcase and brought out a spare sandwich. What very rude people vampires could be.