ORIGINALLY ENTITLED "HOT, COOL, AND OTHER FUN FEELINGS"
HOT AND COLD
Part One, And That's The Only Part You'll Get
[Scene: Giles' groovy bachelor pad.]
Buffy: … and so I drove the stake in with the ferocity of ten roaring lions,
and he disintegrated into dust, to be blown away by the gentle wind, where
perhaps he can find his true and eternal rest.
Willow: (sniffing) That was beautiful.
Buffy: Thank you.
Giles: That wonderfully descriptive scene would have nothing to do with your
sudden interest in literature, now would it?
Buffy: Literature is the bond which unites the civilised.
Willow: It's also the class with the cute guys.
Buffy: That too, but that's not important. What's important is…
Giles: Need I remind you of Owen?
Buffy: Shoosh, old man.
(The door swings open and Xander comes in , followed by Anya.)
Xander: Sorry I'm late, what did I miss?
Willow: Buffy's "The Concept of Vampire Destruction in a Materialistic
Society". I found it quite refreshing and insightful.
Xander: Oh, the literature fad. I give her two weeks. (coughs)
Willow: You're on.
Buffy: (nonchalantly) Buffy's still in the room…
Xander: Winner gets an ice cream of his or her choice. (coughs again)
Willow: All right, but I don't think you should be thinking of ice-cream
with that cough.
Anya: Yes, I told him to stay at home but he wouldn't listen to me. I read
somewhere that nothing cures a cough better than sex.
Willow: (gives Anya a look , and then decides to ignore her) Are you sure
you're all right?
Xander: I'll be fine. It's just a … (coughs violently) cough. (starts
sneezing) And a little sneeze here and there.
Buffy: You see, I told you not to patrol with me last night. It was raining,
and the ground was wet, and it was cold and freezing and the wind was so
freaky …
Willow: I thought you said there was a gentle wind which blew away the
remnant dust of a fallen vampire.
Buffy: Gentle wind, hurricane, same difference. It's called artistic
license. (turns back to Xander) This is what happens when you don't listen
to me. Nobody listens to me. They think just because I'm the Slayer, I can't
think, and that *my* thoughts don't matter, but in this modern day and age,
I sincerely believe that thoughts are the heart of our …
Giles: Oh shut up already.
Buffy: Well.
Xander: Sick Xander here. Back to poor, sick Xander. (coughs loudly)
Anya: (to Xander) Poor baby. Do you want to have sexual intercourse?
Buffy: (gives Anya a disgusted look) The porno chatroom is outside. (to
Xander) Do you know what you need? Some chicken soup. Some nice, steamy ,
chicken soup. I think I'll go make some.
Anya: I want to make him chicken soup.
Buffy: Go ahead then. Less work for me.
Giles: Xander, perhaps if you're feeling under the weather, it would be
better if you return home and get some rest.
Xander: (pathetically) Okay.
Anya: (takes his arm) Come, I'll take you home. (they both leave)
Willow: Now, that was unprofitable.
Buffy: I feel rather guilty. If only I kicked his ass when he insisted to
patrol with me… (sighs) This is so like him. Ignoring my advice and getting
sick.
Willow: I thought you felt guilty.
Buffy: I feel better when I push the blame to someone else. In fact, I think
you're entirely to blame for this.
Willow: ME?
Buffy: Give me a second and I'll think of some reason why it's your fault.
Giles: (exasperated) I think you both should go home as well.
XANDER'S BASEMENT , SOMETIME LATER
Buffy: (coming in, or down, whatever) Hey there, sick boy.
Xander: (uncheerfully) Hidey ho.
Buffy: Where's Clingy?
Xander: She wasn't giving me room to breathe, so I sent her out with a list
of impossible demands. (looks at his watch) She should be back in around
four hours. (blows his nose with a tissue and lamely throws it into the
wastepaper basket nearby)
Buffy: Oh ! (whips out a thermos) Chicken soup for the soul.
Xander: You didn't have to.
Buffy: I didn't. Mom made it. (sets the thermos down on the table and sits
on the edge of the bed. She digs into the bag she brought and takes out a
smaller bottle) Vitamin C tablets. If you read the little booklet, it says
"side effects include death".
Xander: I'm touched.
Buffy: Right, but you see, mom believes in Vitamin C to the point that it's
frightening. I just came here out of guilt.
Xander: Come again? (coughs)
Buffy: You know, the whole "I shouldn't have let you patrol with me, blah ,
blah". I don't really want to go into detail. The curse of a conscience.
(looks at him and then at the thermos) Do you want the soup? I've been told
I'm pretty handy at pouring soup from a thermos into a cup.
Xander: Yes, thank you.
Buffy: (goes over to the thermos and lifts it up, only to knock it over) Oh!
Xander: What did you do? (sneezes)
Buffy: Nothing important, go rest your head. Or something. (looks at the
thermos) Thank God for firm solid caps. (picks up the thermos and opens the
cap. She takes a whiff of the strong aroma of the chicken soup) Smells good.
(gets a cup and begins to pour the soup. She spills some all over the table)
Oopsie.
Xander: Bad oopsie?
Buffy: Nothing a little tissue can't fix. (grabs a wad of tissue and soaks
up the soup) Wow, I'm a natural born homemaker. (takes the cup and brings it
to Xander) Yummy soup.
Xander: Thanks. (takes hold of the cup and sneezes. Fortunately the soup
doesn't spill.) 'cuse me. (He brings the cup to his lips but he coughs,
shaking the cup again.) Oh this is not working.
Buffy: (sarcasticly) Do you want me to feed you?
Xander: Oh, would you? Thanks.
Buffy: You wish. Somehow there's a reason I'm not called Nursemaid Buffy.
Xander: (gives her the puppy dog look) All right. I'll just starve to death.
Alone. Or maybe if I'm lucky, the flu will kill me first.
Buffy: That won't work with me.
Xander: (looks sadly at her and coughs) I don't blame you. I mean, I
wouldn't want to help someone who's dying either.
Buffy: You're not dying.
Xander: That's what they told Mrs. Hendstridge before she croaked and died.
(pretends to sneeze)
Buffy: Fine. (snatches the cup from him) I think there's a law against
emotional blackmail. And when they arrest you and throw you in jail, I hope
you get violated by a burly bearded man.
Xander: That's not a nice thing to say to a sick person.
Buffy: You're apparently healthy enough to administer emotional blackmail.
Xander: Yes, and once I was healthy enough to romp in the open plains, until
helping you caused me my health and left me bed-ridden.
Buffy: I didn't ask you to patrol with me. In fact, I told you to go home.
(brings the cup to his lips) Hold still and swallow. (he takes a sip from
the soup)
Xander: And thus is the price of friendship.
Buffy: Shut up and drink your soup. (brings the cup to his lips again where
he drinks some more) You big baby.
Xander: I like to think of myself as 'preciously innocent'. (drinks the rest
of the soup) Thanks.
Buffy: (puts the cup on the table and sits down on the bed beside him)
Anything else you want me to do before you die? Fluff your pillow? Draw you
a bath? Fill your room with jewellery?
Xander: A lap dance would be nice.
Buffy: Or, I could just break your neck and end your suffering. Some people
regard euthanasia as an act of kindness.
Xander: I feel hot. (feels his neck) I think I may be getting a fever.
Buffy: Is this another trip down Guilt lane for me?
Xander: No. Do I have a fever?
Buffy: Who do you think I am , Dougie Howser?
Xander: I feel my temperature rising as we speak.
Buffy: (rolls her eyes and climbs on the bed and moves towards him. She puts
the back of her hand on his forehead) You're right - you are kinda hot.
Xander: I always knew you dug me.
Buffy: (slaps his forehead lightly) I meant temperature wise. (places her
hand on his neck) Maybe you should see a doctor.
Xander: I hate doctors.
Buffy: (nods) Or you could just rest and we'll see how you are in the
morning.
Xander: Sleep with me?
Buffy: That's a pretty lame pick up line. And I'm not feeling *that* guilty.
Xander: I meant as in literally. Stay with me. Here. (Gives her the puppy
look again)
Buffy: Oh. (pauses) All right. At least until Anya comes back. (lies down
next to him) And don't get any funny ideas.
Xander: I'm too sick to do anything like that. Unfortunately. (coughs)
Buffy: (puts her finger on his lips) Shh. Sleep. I don't want you babbling
away for hours.
(Xander says nothing. He looks at her and then closes his eyes. Buffy
watches him)
SOMETIME LATER
Anya: (coming in) I'm back, although I don't understand why you need Balm of
Eucalyptus. (she sees Xander and Buffy asleep on the bed, Xander resting his
head on Buffy's shoulder) And what is this?
Buffy: (waking up and speaks groggily) Oh. Hello. Anya. (looks at Anya and
then at Xander) I… was just watching him. For you. Until you came back.
Anya: Really.
Buffy: Really. And I'll be going now. (Gets up slowly and walks to Anya)
Shh. He's sleeping.
Anya: Yes. Either that or he has been rendered unconscious.
Buffy: Well he's not talking, so that's a good sign. (Anya doesn't laugh)
Heh. I'll go now. Bye. There's some left over chicken soup in the thermos
over there. (motions to the thermos on the table) And some vitamin C
tablets. Chew away. As much as you want.
Anya: Yeah. Whatever.
Buffy: Bye. (leaves the basement. As she steps outside, she sneezes) Oh,
CRAP.
THE END…
Watch out for Part II , Buffy's In A Coma, Let's All Go To Dakota
HOT AND COLD
Part One, And That's The Only Part You'll Get
[Scene: Giles' groovy bachelor pad.]
Buffy: … and so I drove the stake in with the ferocity of ten roaring lions,
and he disintegrated into dust, to be blown away by the gentle wind, where
perhaps he can find his true and eternal rest.
Willow: (sniffing) That was beautiful.
Buffy: Thank you.
Giles: That wonderfully descriptive scene would have nothing to do with your
sudden interest in literature, now would it?
Buffy: Literature is the bond which unites the civilised.
Willow: It's also the class with the cute guys.
Buffy: That too, but that's not important. What's important is…
Giles: Need I remind you of Owen?
Buffy: Shoosh, old man.
(The door swings open and Xander comes in , followed by Anya.)
Xander: Sorry I'm late, what did I miss?
Willow: Buffy's "The Concept of Vampire Destruction in a Materialistic
Society". I found it quite refreshing and insightful.
Xander: Oh, the literature fad. I give her two weeks. (coughs)
Willow: You're on.
Buffy: (nonchalantly) Buffy's still in the room…
Xander: Winner gets an ice cream of his or her choice. (coughs again)
Willow: All right, but I don't think you should be thinking of ice-cream
with that cough.
Anya: Yes, I told him to stay at home but he wouldn't listen to me. I read
somewhere that nothing cures a cough better than sex.
Willow: (gives Anya a look , and then decides to ignore her) Are you sure
you're all right?
Xander: I'll be fine. It's just a … (coughs violently) cough. (starts
sneezing) And a little sneeze here and there.
Buffy: You see, I told you not to patrol with me last night. It was raining,
and the ground was wet, and it was cold and freezing and the wind was so
freaky …
Willow: I thought you said there was a gentle wind which blew away the
remnant dust of a fallen vampire.
Buffy: Gentle wind, hurricane, same difference. It's called artistic
license. (turns back to Xander) This is what happens when you don't listen
to me. Nobody listens to me. They think just because I'm the Slayer, I can't
think, and that *my* thoughts don't matter, but in this modern day and age,
I sincerely believe that thoughts are the heart of our …
Giles: Oh shut up already.
Buffy: Well.
Xander: Sick Xander here. Back to poor, sick Xander. (coughs loudly)
Anya: (to Xander) Poor baby. Do you want to have sexual intercourse?
Buffy: (gives Anya a disgusted look) The porno chatroom is outside. (to
Xander) Do you know what you need? Some chicken soup. Some nice, steamy ,
chicken soup. I think I'll go make some.
Anya: I want to make him chicken soup.
Buffy: Go ahead then. Less work for me.
Giles: Xander, perhaps if you're feeling under the weather, it would be
better if you return home and get some rest.
Xander: (pathetically) Okay.
Anya: (takes his arm) Come, I'll take you home. (they both leave)
Willow: Now, that was unprofitable.
Buffy: I feel rather guilty. If only I kicked his ass when he insisted to
patrol with me… (sighs) This is so like him. Ignoring my advice and getting
sick.
Willow: I thought you felt guilty.
Buffy: I feel better when I push the blame to someone else. In fact, I think
you're entirely to blame for this.
Willow: ME?
Buffy: Give me a second and I'll think of some reason why it's your fault.
Giles: (exasperated) I think you both should go home as well.
XANDER'S BASEMENT , SOMETIME LATER
Buffy: (coming in, or down, whatever) Hey there, sick boy.
Xander: (uncheerfully) Hidey ho.
Buffy: Where's Clingy?
Xander: She wasn't giving me room to breathe, so I sent her out with a list
of impossible demands. (looks at his watch) She should be back in around
four hours. (blows his nose with a tissue and lamely throws it into the
wastepaper basket nearby)
Buffy: Oh ! (whips out a thermos) Chicken soup for the soul.
Xander: You didn't have to.
Buffy: I didn't. Mom made it. (sets the thermos down on the table and sits
on the edge of the bed. She digs into the bag she brought and takes out a
smaller bottle) Vitamin C tablets. If you read the little booklet, it says
"side effects include death".
Xander: I'm touched.
Buffy: Right, but you see, mom believes in Vitamin C to the point that it's
frightening. I just came here out of guilt.
Xander: Come again? (coughs)
Buffy: You know, the whole "I shouldn't have let you patrol with me, blah ,
blah". I don't really want to go into detail. The curse of a conscience.
(looks at him and then at the thermos) Do you want the soup? I've been told
I'm pretty handy at pouring soup from a thermos into a cup.
Xander: Yes, thank you.
Buffy: (goes over to the thermos and lifts it up, only to knock it over) Oh!
Xander: What did you do? (sneezes)
Buffy: Nothing important, go rest your head. Or something. (looks at the
thermos) Thank God for firm solid caps. (picks up the thermos and opens the
cap. She takes a whiff of the strong aroma of the chicken soup) Smells good.
(gets a cup and begins to pour the soup. She spills some all over the table)
Oopsie.
Xander: Bad oopsie?
Buffy: Nothing a little tissue can't fix. (grabs a wad of tissue and soaks
up the soup) Wow, I'm a natural born homemaker. (takes the cup and brings it
to Xander) Yummy soup.
Xander: Thanks. (takes hold of the cup and sneezes. Fortunately the soup
doesn't spill.) 'cuse me. (He brings the cup to his lips but he coughs,
shaking the cup again.) Oh this is not working.
Buffy: (sarcasticly) Do you want me to feed you?
Xander: Oh, would you? Thanks.
Buffy: You wish. Somehow there's a reason I'm not called Nursemaid Buffy.
Xander: (gives her the puppy dog look) All right. I'll just starve to death.
Alone. Or maybe if I'm lucky, the flu will kill me first.
Buffy: That won't work with me.
Xander: (looks sadly at her and coughs) I don't blame you. I mean, I
wouldn't want to help someone who's dying either.
Buffy: You're not dying.
Xander: That's what they told Mrs. Hendstridge before she croaked and died.
(pretends to sneeze)
Buffy: Fine. (snatches the cup from him) I think there's a law against
emotional blackmail. And when they arrest you and throw you in jail, I hope
you get violated by a burly bearded man.
Xander: That's not a nice thing to say to a sick person.
Buffy: You're apparently healthy enough to administer emotional blackmail.
Xander: Yes, and once I was healthy enough to romp in the open plains, until
helping you caused me my health and left me bed-ridden.
Buffy: I didn't ask you to patrol with me. In fact, I told you to go home.
(brings the cup to his lips) Hold still and swallow. (he takes a sip from
the soup)
Xander: And thus is the price of friendship.
Buffy: Shut up and drink your soup. (brings the cup to his lips again where
he drinks some more) You big baby.
Xander: I like to think of myself as 'preciously innocent'. (drinks the rest
of the soup) Thanks.
Buffy: (puts the cup on the table and sits down on the bed beside him)
Anything else you want me to do before you die? Fluff your pillow? Draw you
a bath? Fill your room with jewellery?
Xander: A lap dance would be nice.
Buffy: Or, I could just break your neck and end your suffering. Some people
regard euthanasia as an act of kindness.
Xander: I feel hot. (feels his neck) I think I may be getting a fever.
Buffy: Is this another trip down Guilt lane for me?
Xander: No. Do I have a fever?
Buffy: Who do you think I am , Dougie Howser?
Xander: I feel my temperature rising as we speak.
Buffy: (rolls her eyes and climbs on the bed and moves towards him. She puts
the back of her hand on his forehead) You're right - you are kinda hot.
Xander: I always knew you dug me.
Buffy: (slaps his forehead lightly) I meant temperature wise. (places her
hand on his neck) Maybe you should see a doctor.
Xander: I hate doctors.
Buffy: (nods) Or you could just rest and we'll see how you are in the
morning.
Xander: Sleep with me?
Buffy: That's a pretty lame pick up line. And I'm not feeling *that* guilty.
Xander: I meant as in literally. Stay with me. Here. (Gives her the puppy
look again)
Buffy: Oh. (pauses) All right. At least until Anya comes back. (lies down
next to him) And don't get any funny ideas.
Xander: I'm too sick to do anything like that. Unfortunately. (coughs)
Buffy: (puts her finger on his lips) Shh. Sleep. I don't want you babbling
away for hours.
(Xander says nothing. He looks at her and then closes his eyes. Buffy
watches him)
SOMETIME LATER
Anya: (coming in) I'm back, although I don't understand why you need Balm of
Eucalyptus. (she sees Xander and Buffy asleep on the bed, Xander resting his
head on Buffy's shoulder) And what is this?
Buffy: (waking up and speaks groggily) Oh. Hello. Anya. (looks at Anya and
then at Xander) I… was just watching him. For you. Until you came back.
Anya: Really.
Buffy: Really. And I'll be going now. (Gets up slowly and walks to Anya)
Shh. He's sleeping.
Anya: Yes. Either that or he has been rendered unconscious.
Buffy: Well he's not talking, so that's a good sign. (Anya doesn't laugh)
Heh. I'll go now. Bye. There's some left over chicken soup in the thermos
over there. (motions to the thermos on the table) And some vitamin C
tablets. Chew away. As much as you want.
Anya: Yeah. Whatever.
Buffy: Bye. (leaves the basement. As she steps outside, she sneezes) Oh,
CRAP.
THE END…
Watch out for Part II , Buffy's In A Coma, Let's All Go To Dakota