TITLE Cats in the Cradle
AUTHOR McKay
E-MAIL BaybeeJuneaol.com, BaybeeJune on AIM
RATING PG-13 for language and bathroom humor, heck, let's call it R just to be safe.
SPOILERS None
PAIRING T/W is vaguely mentioned, a little bit of T/B for the fun of it, Spike/Clem implied
SUMMARY Clem's in need of a place to crash-along with some fuzzy friends.
DISCLAIMER I don't own Tara, Buffy, Dawn, Clem, Spike, Willow, Sunnydale, CA, or anything worth suing for. Joss Whedon, Marti Noxious, et al, do. I do own the cats, a ruthlessly overactive imagination, a juvenile sense of humor and old sneakers.
ARCHIVING/DISTRIBUTION Want it, take it, have it, just tell me where you wanna put it.
FEEDBACK Honestly, I love it, but in the case of this story, it's not meant to be great, it's not meant to be an accurate representation of these characters (in fact it's meant to make fun of them, because I really don't like them right now). So you really don't need to point out what a ridiculous parody it is. It's supposed to be. That's all I'm saying. However, opinions are definitely welcome. Flames will be posted all around the Internet with your name attached so that people can laugh at you. Then I will send out my chocobo to hunt you down maim you. Kiwano likes the feel of human flesh between his talons, don't you, boy? And we both despise flamers.
AUTHOR'S NOTES I've always wondered what would send St. Tara to the breaking point...and I do so love Clem...anyway, like I said, it's a parody. Thanks to Miss Ellie for being my sounding board and a terrible influence ;) I think I had a reason for making Buffy a raging homophobe, but this fic got lost for a year, and by the time I found it again, I'd completely forgotten. But it's still making me laugh, so what the hell, eh? Probably something to do with how self-obsessed Buffy was being when I wrote this fic, sometime mid-season sux...and just because she was ticking me off and, again, this made me laugh. This is supposed to be exaggerated and somewhat ridiculous.

"It's no longer morning and there are still kittens in my house. Would someone like to explain why there are still cats in my house?!"

"Now Buffy, calm down, Clem had a small crisis-" Tara tried to speak calmly, hoping that Buffy would follow her example, but no such luck.

"Oh, this is gonna be good-"

"Well, he went home to try and make up with Spike, but Spike was very harsh with him, and his feelings are hurt-"

"Tara! There are cats crawling all over-"

"You know how sensitive Clem is! I couldn't just throw him out! He's in a fragile emotional place right now!"

Buffy began to unbutton her Doublemeat uniform to throw it in the washer before she went upstairs, but her efforts were hampered by a fuzzy attack muffin that seemed to love the smell of the burger grease. It clawed its way up to Buffy's shoulder and settled in to lick the fabric contentedly. "Could you, uh, do me a favor and get it off me?"

Tara lifted the little striped creature, but his claws stuck fast, tugging the unfastened garment down past Buffy's shoulders.

"God, Tara! I know you miss Willow when she's away at her Wicca retreats but you can't see my boobs! What is it with you lesbians? All hungering for glances at the boobs of Buffy. And if you're so in lesbian love with her, why aren't you off...retreating with her? You're Wiccan, aren't you? You should be off doing lesbian Wiccany things in the woods, not invading my home with these horrid little pussies! I mean, these...oh, I don't know what I mean!" Hugging her arms across her chest, she dashed upstairs with her uniform shirt around her waist. Tara tiredly patted the kitten she held.

"She's not usually like this, cutie. I just hope she doesn't find the stain from the present your brother left on her pillow."

A shrill scream broke the air. Tara raced upstairs, Tequila on her heels, to find Buffy with her face in the sink, sputtering and coughing.

"There's cat piss on my pillow!"

"Not anymore...it's just vinegar and water now. I think I got most of the stain out, too."

"It still smells like cat piss."

"Yeah, Dawn left the door at the head of the stairs open and Vodka got away from us..." Tara shrugged, not too apologetically. Buffy brushed past Tara and thundered back downstairs, pillow in hand.

"DAAAAAAAWN! Get your scrawny ass over here and BRING THAT STUPID, UGLY LITTLE PEE MACHINE!"

Dawn timidly stuck her head into the living room. Vodka stood behind her, batting at her shoelaces. "Uh, what?"

"That little shit desecrated my silk pillowcase! The silk pillowcase! Now, I'm going to give you a choice here. You can fill the sink and watch me drown it-"

"Buffy..." Dawn whimpered, eyes wide.

"Or you can come with me up to the roof and we'll see if it really does land on its feet." Buffy made a grab for the cat, who mewed and raced back into the kitchen.

"Buffy, no!" Dawn lunged for her sister, feeling grim satisfaction when her hand connected with Buffy's larynx. The satisfaction didn't last when Buffy grabbed a fistful of her shiny, shiny hair and pulled. "Ow! Bitch! You're gonna give me split ends!" Dawn backhanded the Slayer across the face. "And don't you dare hurt that cat or I will kill you in your sleep!"

"Oh right, you're gonna whine me to death?" Buffy grabbed Dawn around the middle and neatly tossed her to the ground.

"You two! Break it up! Quit it! Now!" Tara stood over them, hands on her hips. Merlot and Tequila scampered over and dove into the fray, tangling their claws in the Summers' hair.

"Ouch! Stupid hairball!" Buffy shoved the little tiger kitten, sending it sliding across the floor into Tara's ankles.

Tara bent and picked up the kitty, soothingly rubbing its tufted ears. "Poor baby. I know, the crazy ladies scared you." Tequila mewed pitifully, nuzzling Tara's neck. "Don't worry, fuzzyface, I won't let her hurt you." Tequila meowed and tapped Tara's face with her forepaws. "No, no I won't. Come on, come upstairs. You little darlings can hang out on my bed." Meanwhile, Dawn had wormed away from Buffy and was hiding behind Tara, Vodka in her arms. As an afterthought, they scooped up the remaining three cats and shut them all in Tara's room, after, of course, lining the carpet thoroughly with newspapers.