TITLE: Assorted Vegetable Products
AUTHOR: Blaire Ryan
EMAIL:
Redbat1@earthlink.net
RATING: R for
frank sexual discussion (you SAID you wanted Tara to be a perv, don't blame me)
SUMMARY: Anya is
curious about the mechanics of Willow and Tara's relationship.
SPOILERS:
Vicarious mentions of Season 5
DISTRIBUTION:
UCSL, Existence Crawls, and any others that apply.
DISCLAIMER: Joss
Whedon owns it all, along with a bunch of other rich people.
FEEDBACK: I would
LOVE it.
NOTES: Challenge 184 at YGTS?. I must admit, also, that my knowledge on the subject is limited
(I'm quite restricted by the fact of owning a penis) but I think I muddled
through nicely. And yes, I know I
haven't taken this challenge, but no one else had either, so I plucked it up
and wrote it (like I don't have enough to write)
DEDICATION: To Fyre for the tantalizingly tasty-sounding
discussion. And sorry for the crappy
fic, but the weird narrator in me that never pops up, guess what, popped up,
and I had to write it this way.
It started out innocently enough. Giles had asked Anya to pick up a talisman
Angel had "confiscated" off the body of a dead demon. No big deal, really. But,
of course, Willow volunteered to go with her.
And Tara just had to go along too.
This annoyed the frank ex-demon, but she had to live with it. Giles trusted Willow, but Anya was another
story.
So, they'd
gone to Angel's hotel, looked around, and been told by Cordelia (who was still
embarrassed about the Harmony conversation, and had a hard time keeping a
straight face while being introduced to Tara) that Angel had gone to some demon
bar, and taken the talisman with him.
More
annoyances, but Anya could handle it.
"Anyanka,
darling!" The Host shouted, practically giddy, "How have ya been doll? Haven't seen you in a bohemian summer!"
Anya had
been forced to confess she'd had a taste for the bar in her late demon days to
Tara and Willow, "Yeah, but it wasn't to sing!
I find that disturbing. But, the
sea breeze's are fantastic," but after ordering one, oh the horror. It was terrible. Anya wished for her powers so she could curse the man behind the
bar. But alas, it wasn't so.
Finding
Angel was easy enough, not many people could drive away that many customers
with their melody, or lack there of. He
gave the talisman, and the three lovely ladies were about to leave, when the
Host just had to have them stay.
And, Anya had to admit later, listening to Willow sing "Make My Boobies
One More Size" by a weird fellow named Al, was hilarious.
It was
after several drinks; well, maybe more than several, that they were getting a
bit silly. Lorne actually had to call
Angel to come pick them up, and take them back to his hotel to "sleep it off." The vampire was his new, more lighthearted
self, and he was glad to have an audience that actually thought he was
funny. Never mind that they couldn't
stop laughing about the five flavors of condom Anya had found, including
Virgin's Blood, Agitagoian Slime, Zombie Pungence, Master's Breathe, and, their
favorite, Wicca's Juice. But, Angel was
sure some of the laughter was for him.
The hotel
was big, but Angel thought it would be best to get the girls as close to
working toilets as possible, so that ruled out all but the Lobby. Cordelia would complain for a week if they
puked on her desk, but that was a risk he was willing to take. He need the privacy in his room, the only
other place with a bathroom, though if anyone asked, it had nothing to do with
the strip club he had been forced to enter for the case.
The girls
were not even tired when they got to the hotel, too much giddy energy. And, the first thing they did, was to bring
all the air mattresses together, that Angel had unconsciously (though he was a
18th century man, maybe it was consciously) separated.
"You know,"
Anya began, "I cursed many men by turning them into women. Mostly the drunks, because they couldn't
drink as much in these bodies. Thinking
back on it, it wasn't a very good curse.
I should've just sent them to the world without women."
"There's a
world without women?" Tara asked.
"Yes, all
the men reproduce asexually. No
interlocking body parts, that's no fun at all.
I prefer the world without shrimp," Anya said, and couldn't help
giggling at the pathetic Gross National Product of the United States, wrought
with no shrimping industry, creating no cocktail parties, and no upper class.
Willow and
Tara giggled, "You don't need interlocking parts to have fun," Tara said. Willow blushed.
"Tara."
Willow whispered, embarrassed.
"I mean,
sure, Willow likes it when things are put in there, but she still enjoys
non-interlocking," Tara said conspiratorially to Anya.
"Tara!"
Willow stood up, and suddenly felt woozy.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she said, running towards the
bottom-floor bathroom.
Anya
ignored this, too intent on what was said before, "You can be satisfied by
non-interlocking? I become bored
quickly with cunningulus. Only an
orgasm or two is entertaining."
Tara
grinned mischievously, "Of course! You
just have to spice things up a little.
Have you ever covered it with chocolate syrup? Once, I ate a chocolate shake out of Willow."
Anya looked
at Tara, wide-eyed, "Chocolate shake? I
love chocolate shakes!"
"Yeah, and
I had to make sure she was handcuffed and tied down securely. I had this purple lace, and I tied it around
her ankles to the corner of the bed, and strings tied around her nipples, (she
has really big nipples) that I could tug on," Tara was breathing hard, but
still giggling. She thought about
joining Willow in the bathroom.
Anya was
still curious, "But, doesn't non-interlocking get tedious?"
Tara
thought for a second, "Well, I always like to have cucumbers put up my butt
when Willow fists me. Lots of spanking
is always good with that, too. I guess
that's interlocking."
"You use
cucumbers?"
Tara
nodded, "Sure. You can use lots of vegetable.
And not just up your butt.
Sometimes, when I use cucumbers and carrots up Willow's pussy, I wash
them off and cook them for dinner. I
never tell her, but it always seems to make her ready for more right after
dinner. It works like a charm every
time."
Anya had
thoughts spinning in her head, and would have spoken up, but she passed
out. Tara thought she really shouldn't
have let her drink that many wine drinks, but didn't think much more of
it. She had Willow to attend to.
It was the
next day. They'd woken up to Cordelia's
horrified yell, finding Willow and Tara naked and sticky in her bathroom when
she got to work. It wasn't exactly a
Kodak moment (well, it would have been, but Wesley and Gunn couldn't find a
camera in time).
After
leaving, they got home to Sunnydale and didn't much mention it (though Anya
could tell Tara would have wanted to if she had been as drunk as last night) at
all. The day went about normally, and
Anya said surprisingly little until that night after five or six orgasms, as
she and Xander lay breathing heavily.
"Xander, I
want to be a lesbian," Anya told him determinately.
Xander, who
had been falling asleep quite nicely, let his eyes shoot open. "WHAT?"
Anya was
surprised at Xander's outburst, "I thought men liked lesbians, Xander."
Xander sat
up in the bed, "Anya, do you know what being a lesbian means?"
Anya rolled
her eyes, "Of course I do. Tara told me
all about it. Eating chocolate shakes
out of vaginas and being tied up in the process. Oh, and you can do so many things with vegetables."
Xander just
blinked, "Vegetables? Chocolate shakes
and… no, bad Xander imagery, bad. Well,
good, but still, no. Anya! You don't have to be a lesbian to do all
that!"
Anya was
confused, "I don't?"
Xander
sighed, relieved that he wasn't going to lose his girlfriend post-coitus. "No, no.
You can do that now; you just need a girl to join in. And we can do some of that stuff too."
Anya was
content now; at least she could still have REAL interlocking parts along with
the other things, "Okay. Good. Xander, you have to do something for me."
"What
Anya," he asked, settling back into the bed to get some sleep.
"Find a
woman for us to both pleasure," he blinked again, and merely nodded, "And buy
me some assorted vegetables."
The End
