Disclaimer – If I actually owned them think I would be writing fanfiction
about it? Think I would even be at a computer? More like a big mansion with
my own little zombie servants who have to run around at my command and kill
each other when I say... But... BtVS belongs to Joss W and Foamy and co. with
their owners.
Authors Note – People! People! Place your bets! Who will win? Buffy or Foamy? And I'll apogize now if the characters are not like themselves in here. Like I said, I'm not the owners. *************
The Bronze was slowly starting to become empty as the night started to come to an end. Buffy, with her red, skin-tight trousers and tight red top – since it was a day off from slaying, sat at a table with an empty glass in front of her.
All she could think about was the letter she sent off. Did he get it? Will he reply? She hoped so. She didn't sit in front of a computer for over an hour doing nothing.
Willow bounced over from the dance floor with her cheeks matching her red woolly jumper and slack black trousers. Full of energy she was, but her muscles were slowly starting to protest.
"I'm going back to the dorm, want to come?" Willow asked in a breathless voice. Her eyes were on the empty glass Buffy was fidgeting. Surely her fifth glass, Willow thought.
"No I'm going to wait a bit" for my mail Buffy thought. She had asked Xander to post it off for her and receive the mail at his address. Once he got it, which should have been today, he would meet her here tonight. Yet, no sign of him.
Willow left with a bounce and Buffy was on her own. Tapping her black leather booted foot against the metal piping on which held up the tabletop.
After a few more drinks, no one was left in the club. Well, apart from the cleaning crew who were getting ready for tomorrow nights youngsters. The barman came over to her, tapping her slouched shoulder "Err... Miss, I think it's time you should go home." His voice was shaking, scared in case she'll lash out at him like she did to the poor assistant who helped him behind the var. Now he was helping the nurses in the hospital to get the pieces of glass out of his bum!
Buffy lifted her head up to the man. Her vision was a blur as her brain wanted to shut down for the night... and maybe the morning as well. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing got past her natural crimson lips. Instead she nodded her head and allowed the man to help her get into a taxi, which he had ordered for her when she did agree.
Back at her dorm, she opened the door only to try and not slam the door to wake the other up, and failing badly. Ohh the pretty hangover she would get in the morning. She automatically tried to walk over to her bed, whist trying to avoid tables and such on which she was not succeeding, and flopped down onto it. Once her eyes were closed she went away to sleepy land. Letting Morphus put the blanket of sleep over her drunken body. So basically she went to sleep.
*********
The mail came through that evil little cute squirrel's letter-box and Melee collected it for him. Melee was dressed in her gothic clothes. Black black and more black. "Err...you have mail"
"If it's the tax collectors again screw them! I'm sick to death of them! Why don't they just go to a supermarket, buy food, add a little poison here and there, then oppies...they are dead!" Replied foamy but on further notice to the mail he receive...well...he didn't like what he saw.
"What the hell is this?! Fan mail?! Burn! Die! Go to hell!" ...Once Foamy had finished cursing and swearing at the mail he finally opened it up but went straight to the top right hand corner on where the persons address is. Foamy had a good imagination on what to do to this person, and was saying out aloud
Melee raised one of her eyebrows at the cute little squirrel then walked over to the door of the apartment, "Want coffee?"
Foamy stopped ranting and raving on the mail and turned to Melee "Why did you interfere for you stupid girl who likes death like 'Ohh isn't death so wonderful. Everything must die!' ...But you are right, but I must not die or I will unleash my squirrelly wrath... But since you asked, yes please"
With Melee gone to the coffee shop, Foamy started to form a plan to get this person back. Ohh the fun he could have. And yes...it was going to be the final ever fan mail he would be getting if he could help it, until he decides other wise anyways.
A/N - Hmmm...You get the drift on what it'll be like but I do need a little help. Anyone who has any sick, horrid ideas on what Foamy could actually do to Buffy, and/or what Buffy could do to Foamy (I'm not giving any ideas out on who should win) tell me by e-mailing LucidiaDrazen@aol.com purrrrlease! Also reviews would be nice to see if this could be continued or not... TANK OUU!
Authors Note – People! People! Place your bets! Who will win? Buffy or Foamy? And I'll apogize now if the characters are not like themselves in here. Like I said, I'm not the owners. *************
The Bronze was slowly starting to become empty as the night started to come to an end. Buffy, with her red, skin-tight trousers and tight red top – since it was a day off from slaying, sat at a table with an empty glass in front of her.
All she could think about was the letter she sent off. Did he get it? Will he reply? She hoped so. She didn't sit in front of a computer for over an hour doing nothing.
Willow bounced over from the dance floor with her cheeks matching her red woolly jumper and slack black trousers. Full of energy she was, but her muscles were slowly starting to protest.
"I'm going back to the dorm, want to come?" Willow asked in a breathless voice. Her eyes were on the empty glass Buffy was fidgeting. Surely her fifth glass, Willow thought.
"No I'm going to wait a bit" for my mail Buffy thought. She had asked Xander to post it off for her and receive the mail at his address. Once he got it, which should have been today, he would meet her here tonight. Yet, no sign of him.
Willow left with a bounce and Buffy was on her own. Tapping her black leather booted foot against the metal piping on which held up the tabletop.
After a few more drinks, no one was left in the club. Well, apart from the cleaning crew who were getting ready for tomorrow nights youngsters. The barman came over to her, tapping her slouched shoulder "Err... Miss, I think it's time you should go home." His voice was shaking, scared in case she'll lash out at him like she did to the poor assistant who helped him behind the var. Now he was helping the nurses in the hospital to get the pieces of glass out of his bum!
Buffy lifted her head up to the man. Her vision was a blur as her brain wanted to shut down for the night... and maybe the morning as well. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing got past her natural crimson lips. Instead she nodded her head and allowed the man to help her get into a taxi, which he had ordered for her when she did agree.
Back at her dorm, she opened the door only to try and not slam the door to wake the other up, and failing badly. Ohh the pretty hangover she would get in the morning. She automatically tried to walk over to her bed, whist trying to avoid tables and such on which she was not succeeding, and flopped down onto it. Once her eyes were closed she went away to sleepy land. Letting Morphus put the blanket of sleep over her drunken body. So basically she went to sleep.
*********
The mail came through that evil little cute squirrel's letter-box and Melee collected it for him. Melee was dressed in her gothic clothes. Black black and more black. "Err...you have mail"
"If it's the tax collectors again screw them! I'm sick to death of them! Why don't they just go to a supermarket, buy food, add a little poison here and there, then oppies...they are dead!" Replied foamy but on further notice to the mail he receive...well...he didn't like what he saw.
"What the hell is this?! Fan mail?! Burn! Die! Go to hell!" ...Once Foamy had finished cursing and swearing at the mail he finally opened it up but went straight to the top right hand corner on where the persons address is. Foamy had a good imagination on what to do to this person, and was saying out aloud
Melee raised one of her eyebrows at the cute little squirrel then walked over to the door of the apartment, "Want coffee?"
Foamy stopped ranting and raving on the mail and turned to Melee "Why did you interfere for you stupid girl who likes death like 'Ohh isn't death so wonderful. Everything must die!' ...But you are right, but I must not die or I will unleash my squirrelly wrath... But since you asked, yes please"
With Melee gone to the coffee shop, Foamy started to form a plan to get this person back. Ohh the fun he could have. And yes...it was going to be the final ever fan mail he would be getting if he could help it, until he decides other wise anyways.
A/N - Hmmm...You get the drift on what it'll be like but I do need a little help. Anyone who has any sick, horrid ideas on what Foamy could actually do to Buffy, and/or what Buffy could do to Foamy (I'm not giving any ideas out on who should win) tell me by e-mailing LucidiaDrazen@aol.com purrrrlease! Also reviews would be nice to see if this could be continued or not... TANK OUU!