Title: Being Anya.
Author: Pikawhore.
Disclaimer: Here Joss, have 'em back. I was only borrowing them for a while *groveling*.
Category: X/An, X/An (no you aren't seeing double).
Spoilers: General Season 6.
Timeline: My own version of Season 6, with only minor changes in the plot. Assume Giles left for England after Bargaining.
Feedback: Feedback is mandatory. Pants, however, are optional :)
Dedication:
Authors note: I'm suffering severe writers block for Redemptions (Dru is insanely hard to write), so I thought I'd write something else to clear my brain.
{} denotes thoughts.
Sunnydale Ca.
Saturday, October 21 2001
6:00 pm
Buffy walked, or rather stalked down one of Sunnydale's nondescript streets. Despite the town's status as a hellmouth, it was a beautiful night. The stars were twinkling above, and there was a gentle autumn breeze refreshing the night air. It was as if nature had chosen to forget the unnatural decay and death that usually enveloped the town, if just for one night.
Not that Buffy noticed.
She wore a scowl so deep, that one would think that it was permanently etched on her face. Her body language was screaming 'aggression', and she was muttering again and again, like a mantra, "got to kill something. . .".
{Capitalist pig. 'Buffy, what are you doing? Are you working to your full capacity? If you don't, we won't be making the maximum amount of money possible.'} Buffy mocked Anya's voice in her head. After she was resurrected, she had found herself in some money troubles. The house needed fixing, Dawn needed text books and school supplies, {The usual mom stuff}. Unfortunately, her mom wasn't here to take care of the problems anymore. So when Giles decided to go back to England, he suggested that Anya take Buffy as an assistant. "That would be the most convenient solution. Buffy would be able to overcome her monetary problems, and Anya would be provided with the sufficient help she needed without going through the hassle of hiring an assistant with. . . err. . . knowledge of the supernatural." were Giles exact words.
Of course, both the slayer and the former demon had rejected the idea profusely. Though the two had been working together to combat the things that go bump in the night for two years and a bit now, there was absolutely no love lost between them. {I don't even consider her a friend. How could I? Forget that she was a vengeance demon, and there's still the fact that she's as annoying as fingernails scraping a chalkboard. Does her mind think of anything else except money and sex with Xander? What does he see in her anyway?} However, Giles went into full boss-slash-watcher mode, forcing the two of them into this arrangement, with the promise that he would call Willow every now and then to make sure that things were 'pleasant' between them {Or at least, no bloodshed is involved. He just replaced the carpeting after all.}
And if she thought that being friends with Anya was grating on her slayer nerves, she was totally unprepared being Anya's employee. {All she needs are a whip and ball and chain. And knowing Xander, she already does. Eww, scary visual. . .}She works Buffy to the bone, making sure to always remind Buffy who's in charge {she even makes me call her boss!}. In fact, hurricane Buffy was storming around Sunnydale at the moment because Anya had asked her to come into work tomorrow {A Sunday! I don't know about demons but humans sleep on Sunday.} to finish inventory. {Talk about cruel and inhuman. . . inhuman, that fits Anya to a tee.}Of course, the slayer had vehemently disagreed and this lead to another one of what Xander called 'The Legendary Slayer Demon Chats'. Buffy had exited the premises shortly thereafter, more for Anya's benefit than hers.
{It's not totally her fault you know.} the logical part of her brain, which at the moment, was microscopically small, said to her.
Buffy sighed. "Damn logic." The reason inventory was not finished earlier was because Buffy never got around to it. "You mean you couldn't get off your lazy ass." She remembered Anya saying to her just moments ago. {Oh how I'd like to put my slayer shaped foot up yours.} "Hey, I was distracted! That Tal 'Set demon really took a lot out of me!" was her reply at the time. "We took care of him five nights ago, Buffy. And it doesn't take that long for slayers to heal." {Damn Anya and her photographic memory.}
Buffy knew that she too wasn't the nicest person to be around at the moment. Ever since she had been resurrected, she was acting cold and distant towards her friends and sister. {I read somewhere that being taken out of heaven can do that to you. Doesn't Anya understand that? It must be so easy to be her. All she has to worry about is money and sex. Damn Anya. Sex. Money. Damn Anya. AGGHH!!}
Finally, Buffy lost it. She let out a shriek. "I HATE HER!!!" Her voice echoed into the night.
As if on cue, suddenly, a huge ball of light appeared in front of her. She covered her eyes with her hands, trying to stop the blindingly bright orb from burning her retinas. When she finally regained vision, she saw a man with tan skin, golden hair and blue eyes standing in front of her. Normally, Buffy would be ecstatic at the prospect of such a hunk standing in front of her. But, the fact that this certain hunk had a pair of wings dimmed her ecstasy a little bit.
"Ouch." The figure said as he massaged the kinks out of his neck. "That's the last time I ride coach."
Slayer instinct taking over, Buffy whipped out a stake from her pocket and went into a defensive position. "Ok, spill. Who, what, and how you plan on opening the hellmouth."
"Who says I'm. . ."
"Wrong answer." Buffy said as she lunged towards the figure, her stake aimed chest high. Instead of flesh, however, all the stake connected with was air. Her own momentum took her tumbling down to the ground. She whipped her head around and saw the man standing behind her, a sardonic smile on his face.
"One track mind, much?" he asked, holding a hand out towards Buffy's sprawled, pouting figure. "Look, I'm not here to open the hellmouth. And I'll gladly answer your questions as soon as you put that pointy thing away."
Buffy looked at him skeptically before returning the stake to her pocket. Ignoring his outstretched hands, she picked herself up off the floor.
At the glare the slayer was giving him, the man continued. "Not a talkative one, are you. Very peculiar for a human. Anyway, my name is Micheal, but you can call me Mike."
"Hey, now that we have the introductions out of the way, why don't we go and roast marshmallows over a bonfire?" Buffy answered sarcastically.
"Funny. I heard you are quite the comedic slayer. As for what I am," he said, spreading his wings "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count."
Buffy's eyes widened. "You're an angel?"
"Bing! Got it in one. Good to see that what they say about blondes aren't true."
"Ha, ha, a funny angel. I've only seen that in movies, what, a hundred times? Now what are you doing here? The big guy upstairs finally realized I can't handle things alone?"
"Funny you should mention 'alone'. Actually, I'm here to show you what you have right in front of you."
Buffy's face contorted in confusion. "What I have in front of me? What are. . ."
Before she could finish, Micheal placed his hands on either sides of Buffy's temple. Buffy felt a jolt of electricity coursing through her body, and when the darkness came, she welcomed it with open arms.
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Sunday, October 22 2001
8:00 am
Her eyelids fluttered open. She hadn't had a good nights sleep like that since. . . ever. {OK, time to get up. I don't want to be late for work. That wouldn't make that bitch-whore happy.}That was her new nickname for Anya as of late. She tried to get out of bed, but found that she was being held down by a pair of arms. {A pair of very manly arms.} Then she started noticing that the bed she was sleeping in wasn't hers. {Come to think of it, this isn't even my room. This is. . . Xander's. . . room. What am I doing in Xander's room? OK, OK, don't panic, this is all just a dream. A weird,} she snuggled towards the warm, muscled chest pressed up behind her. {comfy dream. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.}
Her dream theory flew out the window however, when she felt the back of her neck being assaulted by a fury of wet kisses. "Good morning, sweetie." Xander's voice rang out loud and clear. "Sleep well?"
Buffy leapt out of bed, her eyes wide with terror. {OK. What the hell am I doing over here? And why was I asleep. . . *in the same bed*,} she ran her hands down her body {*naked*. . . with Xander? And where the hell is Anya? Was she in the bed too? Eww, another scary visual. . .}
"Honey, is anything wrong?" Xander asked, getting out of bed, concern clearly etched on his features. "Are you possessed or something?"
It was at about this time that Buffy noticed the full length mirror that was beside her. She turned to look at it. . .
And saw Anya's naked form staring back at her.
{Nope. Not weird. Not weird at all.} was her last thought before she passed out.
Author: Pikawhore.
Disclaimer: Here Joss, have 'em back. I was only borrowing them for a while *groveling*.
Category: X/An, X/An (no you aren't seeing double).
Spoilers: General Season 6.
Timeline: My own version of Season 6, with only minor changes in the plot. Assume Giles left for England after Bargaining.
Feedback: Feedback is mandatory. Pants, however, are optional :)
Dedication:
Authors note: I'm suffering severe writers block for Redemptions (Dru is insanely hard to write), so I thought I'd write something else to clear my brain.
{} denotes thoughts.
Sunnydale Ca.
Saturday, October 21 2001
6:00 pm
Buffy walked, or rather stalked down one of Sunnydale's nondescript streets. Despite the town's status as a hellmouth, it was a beautiful night. The stars were twinkling above, and there was a gentle autumn breeze refreshing the night air. It was as if nature had chosen to forget the unnatural decay and death that usually enveloped the town, if just for one night.
Not that Buffy noticed.
She wore a scowl so deep, that one would think that it was permanently etched on her face. Her body language was screaming 'aggression', and she was muttering again and again, like a mantra, "got to kill something. . .".
{Capitalist pig. 'Buffy, what are you doing? Are you working to your full capacity? If you don't, we won't be making the maximum amount of money possible.'} Buffy mocked Anya's voice in her head. After she was resurrected, she had found herself in some money troubles. The house needed fixing, Dawn needed text books and school supplies, {The usual mom stuff}. Unfortunately, her mom wasn't here to take care of the problems anymore. So when Giles decided to go back to England, he suggested that Anya take Buffy as an assistant. "That would be the most convenient solution. Buffy would be able to overcome her monetary problems, and Anya would be provided with the sufficient help she needed without going through the hassle of hiring an assistant with. . . err. . . knowledge of the supernatural." were Giles exact words.
Of course, both the slayer and the former demon had rejected the idea profusely. Though the two had been working together to combat the things that go bump in the night for two years and a bit now, there was absolutely no love lost between them. {I don't even consider her a friend. How could I? Forget that she was a vengeance demon, and there's still the fact that she's as annoying as fingernails scraping a chalkboard. Does her mind think of anything else except money and sex with Xander? What does he see in her anyway?} However, Giles went into full boss-slash-watcher mode, forcing the two of them into this arrangement, with the promise that he would call Willow every now and then to make sure that things were 'pleasant' between them {Or at least, no bloodshed is involved. He just replaced the carpeting after all.}
And if she thought that being friends with Anya was grating on her slayer nerves, she was totally unprepared being Anya's employee. {All she needs are a whip and ball and chain. And knowing Xander, she already does. Eww, scary visual. . .}She works Buffy to the bone, making sure to always remind Buffy who's in charge {she even makes me call her boss!}. In fact, hurricane Buffy was storming around Sunnydale at the moment because Anya had asked her to come into work tomorrow {A Sunday! I don't know about demons but humans sleep on Sunday.} to finish inventory. {Talk about cruel and inhuman. . . inhuman, that fits Anya to a tee.}Of course, the slayer had vehemently disagreed and this lead to another one of what Xander called 'The Legendary Slayer Demon Chats'. Buffy had exited the premises shortly thereafter, more for Anya's benefit than hers.
{It's not totally her fault you know.} the logical part of her brain, which at the moment, was microscopically small, said to her.
Buffy sighed. "Damn logic." The reason inventory was not finished earlier was because Buffy never got around to it. "You mean you couldn't get off your lazy ass." She remembered Anya saying to her just moments ago. {Oh how I'd like to put my slayer shaped foot up yours.} "Hey, I was distracted! That Tal 'Set demon really took a lot out of me!" was her reply at the time. "We took care of him five nights ago, Buffy. And it doesn't take that long for slayers to heal." {Damn Anya and her photographic memory.}
Buffy knew that she too wasn't the nicest person to be around at the moment. Ever since she had been resurrected, she was acting cold and distant towards her friends and sister. {I read somewhere that being taken out of heaven can do that to you. Doesn't Anya understand that? It must be so easy to be her. All she has to worry about is money and sex. Damn Anya. Sex. Money. Damn Anya. AGGHH!!}
Finally, Buffy lost it. She let out a shriek. "I HATE HER!!!" Her voice echoed into the night.
As if on cue, suddenly, a huge ball of light appeared in front of her. She covered her eyes with her hands, trying to stop the blindingly bright orb from burning her retinas. When she finally regained vision, she saw a man with tan skin, golden hair and blue eyes standing in front of her. Normally, Buffy would be ecstatic at the prospect of such a hunk standing in front of her. But, the fact that this certain hunk had a pair of wings dimmed her ecstasy a little bit.
"Ouch." The figure said as he massaged the kinks out of his neck. "That's the last time I ride coach."
Slayer instinct taking over, Buffy whipped out a stake from her pocket and went into a defensive position. "Ok, spill. Who, what, and how you plan on opening the hellmouth."
"Who says I'm. . ."
"Wrong answer." Buffy said as she lunged towards the figure, her stake aimed chest high. Instead of flesh, however, all the stake connected with was air. Her own momentum took her tumbling down to the ground. She whipped her head around and saw the man standing behind her, a sardonic smile on his face.
"One track mind, much?" he asked, holding a hand out towards Buffy's sprawled, pouting figure. "Look, I'm not here to open the hellmouth. And I'll gladly answer your questions as soon as you put that pointy thing away."
Buffy looked at him skeptically before returning the stake to her pocket. Ignoring his outstretched hands, she picked herself up off the floor.
At the glare the slayer was giving him, the man continued. "Not a talkative one, are you. Very peculiar for a human. Anyway, my name is Micheal, but you can call me Mike."
"Hey, now that we have the introductions out of the way, why don't we go and roast marshmallows over a bonfire?" Buffy answered sarcastically.
"Funny. I heard you are quite the comedic slayer. As for what I am," he said, spreading his wings "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count."
Buffy's eyes widened. "You're an angel?"
"Bing! Got it in one. Good to see that what they say about blondes aren't true."
"Ha, ha, a funny angel. I've only seen that in movies, what, a hundred times? Now what are you doing here? The big guy upstairs finally realized I can't handle things alone?"
"Funny you should mention 'alone'. Actually, I'm here to show you what you have right in front of you."
Buffy's face contorted in confusion. "What I have in front of me? What are. . ."
Before she could finish, Micheal placed his hands on either sides of Buffy's temple. Buffy felt a jolt of electricity coursing through her body, and when the darkness came, she welcomed it with open arms.
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Sunday, October 22 2001
8:00 am
Her eyelids fluttered open. She hadn't had a good nights sleep like that since. . . ever. {OK, time to get up. I don't want to be late for work. That wouldn't make that bitch-whore happy.}That was her new nickname for Anya as of late. She tried to get out of bed, but found that she was being held down by a pair of arms. {A pair of very manly arms.} Then she started noticing that the bed she was sleeping in wasn't hers. {Come to think of it, this isn't even my room. This is. . . Xander's. . . room. What am I doing in Xander's room? OK, OK, don't panic, this is all just a dream. A weird,} she snuggled towards the warm, muscled chest pressed up behind her. {comfy dream. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.}
Her dream theory flew out the window however, when she felt the back of her neck being assaulted by a fury of wet kisses. "Good morning, sweetie." Xander's voice rang out loud and clear. "Sleep well?"
Buffy leapt out of bed, her eyes wide with terror. {OK. What the hell am I doing over here? And why was I asleep. . . *in the same bed*,} she ran her hands down her body {*naked*. . . with Xander? And where the hell is Anya? Was she in the bed too? Eww, another scary visual. . .}
"Honey, is anything wrong?" Xander asked, getting out of bed, concern clearly etched on his features. "Are you possessed or something?"
It was at about this time that Buffy noticed the full length mirror that was beside her. She turned to look at it. . .
And saw Anya's naked form staring back at her.
{Nope. Not weird. Not weird at all.} was her last thought before she passed out.