Here's a link to Buffy X's magical Kink-a-thon: http://www.livejournal.com/users/buffyx/164500.html
Here's Chapter 2. Review if you're feeling charitable.
**
Slayer of demons. Protector of the most helpless of the helpless. Her beauty burns with the white-hot light of a thousand suns. The strength of a great white and the pure heart of a lioness beats beneath her breast. She was a woman who always focused on the mission at hand – would never dream of allowing frivolous things such as Mr. The Bloody's new found (and utterly disgusting) feelings for her to cloud her judgement. Oh no. Uh, uh. Never, my friends.
Buffy Summers' middle name (in addition to Anne) was ‘ Consummate Professional'.
"Ow!"
"Oh god! I'm so sorry!" Buffy sheepishly apologized as she helped Puffy!Xander back on his feet. Beet-red, the floppy haired boy took in a deep breath as he massaged his poor, newly bruised side.
"That 'ow'," he breathed sharply, "on a scale of one to ten -- ten being Mariah Carey, how high was it?"
She shook her head. "Not high at all. It was a very manly scream of pain, Xand."
"I try." Xander smiled at her sardonically. "I know this tough and rugged exterior can be misleading, Buff, but my ribs are gonna ask that you go a little easier next time around."
"Again with the sorry. I just...have a lot on my mind," Buffy sighed heavily. Absently she picked at the tape on her hands while making her way toward the sandbag.
"The Spike thing?" Xander asked, waddling closer.
He got a withering glance as his answer and the Slayer went straight into throwing left hooks and grunting in disgust.
"Definitely the Spike thing," he mumbled to himself.
"Is there something wrong with me?!" Buffy cried out in between blows. "Is there some kind of neon sign flashing above my head that reads 'Freaks and Losers This Way Please' ?!
"Neon sign?"
"I mean..." she paused mid-punch to make a face, "Spike."
Xander attempted a shrug. "Gross and pathetic factors aside, is it really that big a deal?"
She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment and went right back to assaulting the sandbag with even more power behind her fists.
"I'm saying, since it's 'all chips on deck' in Spike's head, it doesn't exactly do him any good to obsess over killing you..."
Buffy quirked a brow. "This is helping?"
"All of that energy's gotta go somewhere." Xander smiled reassuringly. "This is just a new, yet creepy way to annoy you. It'll go away."
"...What'll go away?" Giles asked as he entered the training room.
"Spike's little 'crush' on her," Xander snickered.
The older man stopped dead in his tracks to sigh heavily and give his charge an 'I'm unbelievably disappointed in you' look, like only he could. "You're still on about that? Here I thought we were supposed to be focused on training to fight a hell god. Silly me."
Buffy rolled her eyes. " I'm focused!" She threw her hands up. "See, this is me, focused. Lets get it done."
Giles nodded, giving his glasses a brief cleaning. "Good. Lets start with some..."
"You really think this is just a stupid crush?" she said suddenly completely cutting off the Watcher. "I got an unmistakably vomit-y feeling that Spike was gonna say the 'L' word."
"I don't know, Buffy." Giles pursed his lips. "But, I'll pass Spike a note in Study Hall and we can find out for sure."
"Not funny, Giles."
**
"Customers will bring you their goods and money, and you will...?"
Fighting an eye roll, Buffy sighed heavily and opened her mouth to speak. Sometimes, though she hoped unintentionally, Anya could treat you as if you were some sort of drooling mongoloid with ‘Idiot Jed' tattooed on your forehead. "Exchange the money for a receipt and kindly ask if they need a bag for that."
Anya folded her arms over her chest. "You forgot, ‘put the money in the register' and ‘thank them for their patronage'. Panicked, she turned to Xander. "I can't leave; we'll be robbed blind with her in charge!"
Xander sent Buffy an apologetic smile. "Everything will be fine. You can't go wrong having a slayer around. Besides, I made these reservations a whole month in advance – this dinner is half of my paycheck! You will eat something French tonight if it kills me."
"I've got you and Giles on the speed dial; if there's a sudden demand for motherwart or I accidentally take a personal check, I won't hesitate to call," Buffy said.
Anya gasped. "Taking personal checks is nothing to joke about, Buffy."
Xander wrapped an arm around his girlfriend and slowly led her away from the Magic Box's front counter. "Thanks again, Buff. We really appreciate this."
"I don't trust her!" Anya shouted as she was pulled out of the door.
The night started off without a hitch. Tuesday nights proved to be achingly slow for the Magic Box, but no less productive for Buffy; she managed to read the latest People, US Weekly, and Cosmo cover to cover the first forty-five minutes (who says our heroine doesn't appreciate fine literature.) And the following fifteen minutes saw an exciting game of ‘waste-paper-basketball' with unusable scraps of gift wrapping tissue. She was unbelievably relaxed (the word ‘relaxed' here meaning bored) and that was exactly the type of climate our second unfortunate event needed.
"I'm surprised Anya didn't drag the cash register out the door with her," Willow snickered loudly over the phone.
"What makes you think she didn't try?" Buffy huffed. "I almost wish I had a ten page art history term paper excuse like you; I was bored out of my mind after the first five minutes."
That got a giggle.
"Here's wishing you a rush of people looking for snail scented candles."
At the sound of a loud crash coming from the Magic Box's basement, Buffy frowned with a sigh. "Thanks for the jinx, Wills."
"Any time."
"Hold on a sec, okay?"
Putting the phone down she slowly made her way to the basement, stopping dead in her tracks at the sudden cry of "Bloody hell!"
Eyes shooting heavenward, Buffy mumbled, "You really hate me, don't you." Rounding the corner she came face to face with the object of her annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"
With a defiant snort the vampire turned back to the shelf, rummaging through various jars and boxes. "Playing football," was his sardonic reply. "What does it look like, you silly bint."
"It looks like you're stealing."
"I prefer to call it shopping."
"I seem to recall a conversation in which I told you to stay the fuck away from me," Buffy said angrily.
Spike's eyes narrowed. "And I seem to recall this not being your store. Open to the public and all that." He gestured toward himself. "I'm public."
"Not while I'm in charge," she shot back.
That got a raised brow. "You're in charge? Where's the demon girl?"
"Out with Xander," she informed him. "It's Giles's day off and they had plans they couldn't change so I'm filling in."
"How sweet."
"Get out."
Grinning, Spike headed for the steps. "Told you, luv, I'm doing some shopping. Matter of fact, I think I'm going to have a look around upstairs. Got any tagis root?"
Buffy grit her teeth as she stomped after him. "I mean it, Spike! Get your bleached ass out of..."
Buffy was brutally cut off by the sound of a window shattering and the sight of a battered canister rolling toward her feet.
Exchanging confused looks with Spike, she picked up the object. "What the...?"
"Don't really think you should be touching that, Slayer," Spike said.
"Your concern has been noted," she replied sarcastically.
Without warning, the canister's top popped open, emitting a thick, white cloud of smoke that swirled around the two sending them into a coughing fit.
"Buffy, what was that noise? Buffy?! Hello? Are you there...?!"
Depraved demon games, the horrific boredom of retail and mysterious canisters that emit mysterious white smoke. Things only get worse from here on out, dear Readers. I wouldn't blame you if you left for the comfort of a feel-good song fic. After all, Evanescence is a great band.
TBC