Research Mode

Several hours later, the three, um, men are in sitting in Giles' living room, he at his desk, Xander and the wanker on the sofa. Said wanker, Spike, is of course slouched down with feet up on the small table, fingers idly playing with his new found breasts as he stares, transfixed, at the television. In Giles' mind, the vampire's fascination with that idiot show, Passions, proves conclusively that the fellow had obviously been an ill bred moron, before he was turned.

Xander sat couched in the opposite corner of the sofa, as far from the vampire as he could get. He had a book open on his lap. His head however did not lean towards the pages; rather it was tipped back against the head rest. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, every now and then the boy let forth a loud, annoying snore, followed immediately by an equally loud and annoying snort. His tight, pert breasts, smaller than Spike's, but never the less a nice mouthful, gently rose and fell as he breathed.

Giles' headache had not improved. In fact, the close study of the books he had been researching, had served to increase the throbbing into a steady pounding. His back was also beginning to really ache and every time he leant forward, he had the awful feeling he was going to tip over. He sighed, sat back against the chair, removed his glasses and began polishing them with the hanky he took from his breast pocket.

"You know Spike, you could put some of that concentration you are displaying so well, to better use and help find a way out of our current predicament."

He received no reply and a quick glance showed that the vampire's eyes had not strayed from the screen in front of him and his fingers had not slowed in their attentions to those erect nipples, which could be seen standing up taughtly, through the black t-shirt. The breasts, to which they were attached, were very full, reminding Giles of a young Marilyn Monroe.

Giles sighed again, put his glasses back on and his hanky back in his pocket. He pushed the chair back and rose, keeping one hand on the desk to help balance the extra pull on his centre of gravity. He looked at his two companions. There would be no solution found to the crisis at hand, if he were to rely on those pair. He only hoped the girls were having a more productive time. He turned and walked to the kitchen, where he filled the kettle and turned it on. Perhaps a nice cuppa would revive him a little, along with a handful of Tylenol and a couple of fingers of malt. He smiled at the thought.
...

Meanwhile at the Magic Box, Willow, Tara and Anya are indeed being productive, each of them immersed in large, heavy, bound tomes as they sit at the table in full research mode.

"W-willow, this might be a good all p-purpose r-reversal spell we could try. You know, if w-we haven't f-f-found anything else." Tara looked up at the red head as she said this.

"Let me see honey." Willow leaned across to scan the pages of the book in front of her lover. As she did, her arm brushed Tara's breast and both women felt a thrill run up their arms. They looked into each other's eyes and leaned in towards the other's lips.

"You can't have sex on this table. It's reserved." Anya closed the book she was reading and looked at the two witches. "It's probably a good time for a break though. The lunch time crowd will be here soon and I will get lots of money, which will help soothe my worries over my big breasted boyfriend. You two should go to the training room."

Her companions looked up questioningly. Anya rolled her eyes. Were all humans this thick?

"The training mats. When they are stacked, they are very comfortable. Not to mention that the vaulting horse is very well padded, and..."

"Okay." Willow broke in before Anya could get into the graphics. "Good idea. The break I mean. I could do with a bit of a stretch. How about you, Tara, need a break from all the researchy stuff?"

"W-well I know w-we should r-research, b-but I am a b-bit stiff. Yes, a b-break would be good." She smiled at Willow, a deep, knowing smile.

The two women pushed back from the table and rose. They walked, hand in hand, towards the training room door. Anya grinned as she watched them leave, glad that the training room was sound proof when the door was closed. She placed markers in the two books the others had open and closed them. Then she stacked all the books in the centre of the table. She did not want nosy customers looking through what they'd been reading.

She moved behind the counter and tidied around the cash register, giving it a loving caress as she did so. The doorbell tinged and she felt moisture gather. Capitalism was a good buzz, that's for sure and lunch time was always so rewarding. She loved the shop for this and also for the other opportunities it afforded her, now that she was human. There were many ways to practice vengeance, after all. She smiled to herself at that thought, then looked up as her next victim, er, customer, entered the store, and began her welcoming spiel.
...

Across town at Willy's, Buffy is also engaged in productive information gathering, as she yet again slams Willy's head into his bar.

"Why do you always make me do this, Willy? You know you are going to spill everything anyway."

"Oww. Gotta think of my position, Slayer. If my customers thought I just give up everything without a fight, well let's just say, old Willy wouldn't be of any use to you." He rubbed the sore spot on his forehead. He was pretty sure he would have a very nice bruise there to match his already black eye, from her earlier punch to his face. God she was such a bossy bitch. When she walked in to the place, in those tight, figure hugging, black leather pants, little top straining to hold her breasts in, you just knew she was looking to hit someone. She should carry a riding crop or something, to slap against her boots, to complete the picture. Hmmm, maybe he could have one placed strategically on the bar...

Buffy grabbed his shirt front with both hands and pulled him toward her. He blinked his eyes rapidly and opened his mouth a little, hitching in a shaky breath.

"Are you listening to me Willy?" She gave him a shake that made him groan, in a rather strange way, she thought, more like a moan. Eh, who knew what these low life types were thinking.

"I want to know if you've heard anything about a new big bad. Someone into the magics?" She shoved him back, watched him lick his weasley little lips, nod his head.

"Ah, yeah. Heard there's some kind of magician been asking round, about you lot. Hasn't been in here, far as I know. Just, overheard a couple of vamps talking about it, last night." Oh yeah, she was so strong, so hard, yet soft, so dominant.

"Where and who, Willy?"

"Uh, well, I don't know Slayer. I didn't hear names or places. At least not that I remember. Maybe if you slap me round a bit more, I might remember."

He licked his lips again. Ugh, she thought, do people really have such thin lips on purpose or had he had work on them. Buffy shook her head.

"Just keep your eyes and ears open, Willy. I'll be back to hear what you've found out." She turned and headed for the door, already thinking of a double mocha latte with her name on it. Uh, I so need a caffeine injection after this. Willy watched her walking out.

"Sure thing, Slayer. Whatever you want. So, same time tomorrow?"
...