Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

Author's Note: Just a little Anya vignette that I couldn't resist doing. From Xander's POV for a change.

Recruiting Anya

by Darrin Colbourne


"Hi, Xander!" She says as I enter the shop. She's busy with a customer but has enough time to flash me her beautiful smile. There are days when I wonder what I ever did to have such a wonderful person in my life...and then I remember (kissed Willow, broke Cordelia's heart, got us all killed in another reality, got seduced by her in my basement), and decide it's probably a good idea if I don't let myself get too sentimental about how we first met.

She finishes with the customer and shows him to the door. I watch her graceful form as she puts out the "Closed" sign and lets out a breath of relief. Then she turns and runs into my arms, gives me a big sloppy kiss and a big grin, while I hug back and run my hands all over her...uh, well, all over her.

The embrace ends all too quickly as she heads for the cash register. "I'll be ready to go soon." She says as she begins to scoop dollar bills and change out of the drawer. Her face lights up like a kid's on Christmas Morning as she goes over to the table in the back to count the day's receipts. I hate to admit it, but the one nice thing about her disturbing fascination with money is that she's cute as a button when she does her "Money Dance" as she counts.

"You would have been so proud of me today!" She says as she finishes and starts to lock everything up. "I had a run-in with evil, and I beat it all by myself!"

Uh-oh. Whenever she begins a story like that it's usually a reminder to me that I have to stock up on aspirin. "Did you really?" I say, hoping that this latest excursion into Anya's mind won't leave me needing a psychiatrist.

"You bet!" She says. "No Buffy, no you, no Willow! Just little ol' me against the forces of darkness!"

"Well, that's...great, sweetie." I say, praying that she didn't drop something heavy on some defenseless person thinking he was a demon. "Uh...what exactly did you beat?"

"A bunny." She says, as if that explains everything. I wince and grab my forehead when she can't see me, as the image of some bunny rabbit being run through with one of the sharp implements in the loft comes to mind. I thought we'd gotten her over that particular phobia when we killed the big bunny demon!

"You beat an evil bunny?" I say. Maybe I heard wrong, or maybe there's more to the story (Okay, there's gotta be more to the story).

"Uh-huh. And it wasn't just any kind of bunny either. It was a werebunny!"

And here comes the headache, and the psychiatrist. Maybe he has a couples' plan that we can use. "Excuse me? A werebunny?"

"Yep! You know, like a werewolf, but instead of a wolf that can turn human it's a bunny that can turn human. He came into the shop in his human form."

"Well, if he was in human form, how do you know he was a werebunny?"

"Oh, because he wanted to turn me into one! He came into the store bold as brass and said to me 'Excuse me, miss. I saw you through the window and wouldn't have forgiven myself if I didn't come in and talk to you about a great opportunity! I have it in my power to make you bunny!' Then I said 'How can you possibly think I'd want to be a such a horrible thing?!' Then he tried to bribe me with all this talk about wealth and popularity and trips to Hollywood and New York and Paris, and when I told him you'd object he said that you could come with me if you had a problem and see that there's nothing wrong with it! Well! I told him that I didn't want to be a bunny and never would, and I would sic the Slayer on him if he didn't get out of my establishment and never come back! Then he left, all whimpering and muttering! Isn't that wonderful? I was strong and I made him leave, without help and without my powers!" She's absolutely beaming now, and I'm more confused than ever.

"Wait a minute," I say, "a bunny in human form offered you game show prizes to become a bunny and bring me along for the ride? Listen, Ahn, maybe you..."

"I knew you wouldn't believe me," she says, her smile never fading, "so this time I managed to keep proof!" She digs in her purse and pulls out a business card. She hands it to me, and with one glance I realize what happened. I work very hard to keep a straight face as Anya continues. "See? He gave this to me. It has the Mark of the Bunny on it."

"Oh, yeah. Mark of the Bunny. Plain as day." I say.

"I think it's some kind of organization of werebunnies that are going to take over the world economy by turning all business people into werebunnies! We'd better get Buffy on this right away."

"Um...why don't we hold off on that, Anya?" I say. "After all...you may have just stopped their top man...bunny...in Sunnydale already! We should wait to see if he comes back again before we panic."

"You're right!" She says. "No sense in getting Buffy all worked up if there are no others here, but we should be careful. They'll probably try to recruit all of us into their evil syndicate."

"Well...maybe not all of us." I say as we head out the door.


It's a quiet night in Sunnydale (no demons or evil warlocks to run away from) so Anya and I get home early and have plenty of time after dinner for..."embracing". For a change she falls asleep first, and I look out the window at the quiet little town.

After a minute or two I take the business card out of my pants pocket and take another look at it, this time letting a grin cross my face. Somewhere out there there's a talent coordinator named Mike McGuillicuddy who's probably very confused and very disappointed right now, because someone he thought would be perfect for his organization had tossed him out on his ear. I contemplate the bunny logo on the card for a moment before I toss it into the garbage, deciding that it's probably a good idea if I don't tell Anya the nature of her mistake.

Better that she stay confused than me showing up at work one morning and finding my guys ogling a centerfold of my fiance in the latest issue of Playboy.


Final Author's Note: Playboy and the Playboy Bunny logo are trademarks of Playboy Inc. (If I had put it up there I would've given away the ending. Shame on you if you skipped ahead.)