RATING: PG-13 for this chapter.
DISTROBUTION: Ask and ye shall receive.
DISCLAIMER: Only the plot is mine.
FEEDBACK: Please do.
A/N: Starts after "Helpless", but before "The Zeppo"
~~~~~~~~~~
Xander tugged impatiently at the cotton scarf wrapped tightly around his eyes.
"Aw, c'mon, what's so secret about something I'm going to know anyway! Can't I just-"
"No," Buffy insisted firmly, grabbing both his hands and locking them behind his back as she led him into a small building, "I'm sorry it had to come to this, Xand, but you have to be patient."
She directed him forward, and he slowly became aware of a steady beat around him, as well at the hoots and hollers of many men (and some women). He felt Buffy shove him into a chair and unveil his eyes before he had a chance to do so himself. Xander looked around and closed his mouth at the comment he was about to make, the thought leaving his brain the second his eyes were uncovered.
He was at a strip club. The only strip club in Sunnydale, in fact. Cummin's Place. His eyes darted everywhere, from the stage to its bar and finally, to its stripper, who was currently pawing at her body in a nearly masturbatory way.
Buffy looked pointedly at Willow and nodded her head towards Xander's vacant expression. "I think he likes his birthday present," she said, mirth dancing lightly in her eyes, and the redhead smiled uneasily.
Buffy gave her best friend a reassuring smile. She, too, felt pretty weird sitting in a strip club, but she *was* 18, and so was Willow. They're legally allowed to be here, and besides, it was *her* idea to bring Xander here for his birthday. She, the Slayer, afraid of naked women? Pssh!
Willow, of course, went along with her best friend, partly because she couldn't come up with anything else, and partly because she figured this would help Xander get over Cordy and... well, *her*. Willow gave Xander a nervous look and calmed when she saw he was actually enjoying himself. Then she realized what a ridiculous thought it was to think he *wouldn't* enjoy himself in a strip club, and berated herself mentally for being so dense. She kept her eyes directed at her feet, only sparing short glances up to see why Xander would gasp occasionally, and then quickly look down, blushing furiously.
Buffy wasn't doing much better herself, she tried to watch the stripper but would find herself either disgusted or embarrassed by her actions. The stripper couldn't dance very well... in fact she currently wasn't doing much more than grinding against the pole. Earlier she had copied a Britney Spears dance routine move for move, only with even less clothing than Britney herself, which would, in some cases, be a feat on its own, but hey, this was a strip club. Clothing was not required in the slightest.
Buffy quickly grew irritated with both having to sit still and the stripper's obvious lack of talent beyond being "hot". Personally, Buffy thought the stripper looked a little too much like her mom. 'Oh God, EW! Way to scar yourself for life, Buffy,' she thought, cringing outwardly as well as inwardly. Impatiently, she left a blushing Willow and a hypnotized Xander in their seats to go to the bar, realizing she was *really* thirsty.
She slid onto a stool at the bar, asking for a Pepsi from the heavily tattooed bartender. As he filled a glass with ice she let her gaze wander over the patrons. The women there looked as disgusted as her, and almost all of them seemed to be anticipating something. The men were not nearly as hypnotized as Xander, but all the same were watching fairly adamantly. They, too, seemed to be waiting for something (someone?) else.
Buffy accepted her soda from the bartender, and she felt a slight tickle under her skin... like someone had lightly trailed a feather across her shoulders. She smiled as a reflex to her Slayer connection and looked around for Faith. Not seeing her, she shrugged and basked in the feeling, figuring Faith must be nearby, probably slaying a vampire or curing her H&H. Buffy scowled slightly at that thought, wondering what pleasure Faith could find in sleeping with random men.
Buffy sipped her Pepsi, and tried not to dwell on that thought.
~~~~~~~~~~
Faith drew her stake back fluidly, the dust settling lightly around her. She gave the gathering dustpile a disgusted look and grumbled "Now I'm gonna be late! Just fuckin' peachy..." She angrily wiped at her jean jacket and walked through the back door of "Cummin's Place".
"'Ey, Lenore!" yelled the manager, the second he saw her, "What the fuck are you playing at being so damn late? Candy's been on stage for a fuckin' half hour! God himself knows she's only here cuz she's got a fuckin' kid to feed! Now get in your fucking costume!" He shoved her lightly towards her dressing room. She resisted the urge to deck him.
Once in her dressing room, she angrily yanked off her jean jacket. "What's wrong with you tonight, 'Nore?" asked Janice snottily, whom she shared her room with. "What's wrong with your *face*, Jan?" Faith maliciously replied. Janice left the room, a "whatever" face firmly in place. Faith sighed and tied her hair up into a loose ponytail before tugging on a pleated skirt. 'Hey, I gotta pay for my leathers somehow, right?' Faith told herself for the fourth time that week.
~~~~~~~~~~
'*Finally*,' thought Buffy, when the horrible Mom-ish stripper finally got off stage. The music (an awful techno remix of some Motown song) stopped and Buffy waited for the next one to begin, noticing that the stage was dark. A deep, sultry voice played out from the silence, singing the lyrics to Fiona Apple's "Slow like honey". The raw sensuality in the voice sent shivers down Buffy's spine.
The stage faded into view... the lights slowly going up. Buffy's jaw dropped as the next stripper came into view, and somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the bartender chuckle softly, "That's Lenore for ya...can't just strip, she's gotta *sing*."
It was Faith.
~~~~~~~~~~
Xander tugged impatiently at the cotton scarf wrapped tightly around his eyes.
"Aw, c'mon, what's so secret about something I'm going to know anyway! Can't I just-"
"No," Buffy insisted firmly, grabbing both his hands and locking them behind his back as she led him into a small building, "I'm sorry it had to come to this, Xand, but you have to be patient."
She directed him forward, and he slowly became aware of a steady beat around him, as well at the hoots and hollers of many men (and some women). He felt Buffy shove him into a chair and unveil his eyes before he had a chance to do so himself. Xander looked around and closed his mouth at the comment he was about to make, the thought leaving his brain the second his eyes were uncovered.
He was at a strip club. The only strip club in Sunnydale, in fact. Cummin's Place. His eyes darted everywhere, from the stage to its bar and finally, to its stripper, who was currently pawing at her body in a nearly masturbatory way.
Buffy looked pointedly at Willow and nodded her head towards Xander's vacant expression. "I think he likes his birthday present," she said, mirth dancing lightly in her eyes, and the redhead smiled uneasily.
Buffy gave her best friend a reassuring smile. She, too, felt pretty weird sitting in a strip club, but she *was* 18, and so was Willow. They're legally allowed to be here, and besides, it was *her* idea to bring Xander here for his birthday. She, the Slayer, afraid of naked women? Pssh!
Willow, of course, went along with her best friend, partly because she couldn't come up with anything else, and partly because she figured this would help Xander get over Cordy and... well, *her*. Willow gave Xander a nervous look and calmed when she saw he was actually enjoying himself. Then she realized what a ridiculous thought it was to think he *wouldn't* enjoy himself in a strip club, and berated herself mentally for being so dense. She kept her eyes directed at her feet, only sparing short glances up to see why Xander would gasp occasionally, and then quickly look down, blushing furiously.
Buffy wasn't doing much better herself, she tried to watch the stripper but would find herself either disgusted or embarrassed by her actions. The stripper couldn't dance very well... in fact she currently wasn't doing much more than grinding against the pole. Earlier she had copied a Britney Spears dance routine move for move, only with even less clothing than Britney herself, which would, in some cases, be a feat on its own, but hey, this was a strip club. Clothing was not required in the slightest.
Buffy quickly grew irritated with both having to sit still and the stripper's obvious lack of talent beyond being "hot". Personally, Buffy thought the stripper looked a little too much like her mom. 'Oh God, EW! Way to scar yourself for life, Buffy,' she thought, cringing outwardly as well as inwardly. Impatiently, she left a blushing Willow and a hypnotized Xander in their seats to go to the bar, realizing she was *really* thirsty.
She slid onto a stool at the bar, asking for a Pepsi from the heavily tattooed bartender. As he filled a glass with ice she let her gaze wander over the patrons. The women there looked as disgusted as her, and almost all of them seemed to be anticipating something. The men were not nearly as hypnotized as Xander, but all the same were watching fairly adamantly. They, too, seemed to be waiting for something (someone?) else.
Buffy accepted her soda from the bartender, and she felt a slight tickle under her skin... like someone had lightly trailed a feather across her shoulders. She smiled as a reflex to her Slayer connection and looked around for Faith. Not seeing her, she shrugged and basked in the feeling, figuring Faith must be nearby, probably slaying a vampire or curing her H&H. Buffy scowled slightly at that thought, wondering what pleasure Faith could find in sleeping with random men.
Buffy sipped her Pepsi, and tried not to dwell on that thought.
~~~~~~~~~~
Faith drew her stake back fluidly, the dust settling lightly around her. She gave the gathering dustpile a disgusted look and grumbled "Now I'm gonna be late! Just fuckin' peachy..." She angrily wiped at her jean jacket and walked through the back door of "Cummin's Place".
"'Ey, Lenore!" yelled the manager, the second he saw her, "What the fuck are you playing at being so damn late? Candy's been on stage for a fuckin' half hour! God himself knows she's only here cuz she's got a fuckin' kid to feed! Now get in your fucking costume!" He shoved her lightly towards her dressing room. She resisted the urge to deck him.
Once in her dressing room, she angrily yanked off her jean jacket. "What's wrong with you tonight, 'Nore?" asked Janice snottily, whom she shared her room with. "What's wrong with your *face*, Jan?" Faith maliciously replied. Janice left the room, a "whatever" face firmly in place. Faith sighed and tied her hair up into a loose ponytail before tugging on a pleated skirt. 'Hey, I gotta pay for my leathers somehow, right?' Faith told herself for the fourth time that week.
~~~~~~~~~~
'*Finally*,' thought Buffy, when the horrible Mom-ish stripper finally got off stage. The music (an awful techno remix of some Motown song) stopped and Buffy waited for the next one to begin, noticing that the stage was dark. A deep, sultry voice played out from the silence, singing the lyrics to Fiona Apple's "Slow like honey". The raw sensuality in the voice sent shivers down Buffy's spine.
The stage faded into view... the lights slowly going up. Buffy's jaw dropped as the next stripper came into view, and somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the bartender chuckle softly, "That's Lenore for ya...can't just strip, she's gotta *sing*."
It was Faith.