Slay Time

An Angel fanfic by Sisiutil

Joss and ME own the characters, I'm just playing with them.

This one is just for fun. This story is an alternate version of "Smile Time".

Part 2

"My fault?!?" Puppet Angel exclaimed indignantly. His heavy, furry brow was raised, his little three-fingered, felt-covered hands spread wide. "How could any of this be my fault?!?"

"You could have warned me!" Puppet Buffy snapped back at him.

She was standing atop his desk in his office at Wolfram and Hart, her little puppet arms crossed over her slender chest, her felt-covered head cocked in irritation. One little leather-booted foot tapped angrily on the finely-crafted mahogany desktop. Her black pants clung tightly to her thin puppet legs, and her brown leather jacket and white blouse would have looked quite elegant on her normal, full-sized, human form. Reduced to puppet-size, however, her clothing just looked...cute. There was no other word for it.

Buffy had come to Los Angeles to see Angel and had found him under a spell that had changed him into a puppet. Taking charge of the situation as usual, Buffy had gone off to the "Smile Time" studios to try to find out who or what had changed her ex-lover into a two-foot-tall construction of felt, foam rubber, and polyester stuffing. To say that her rescue attempt had gone horribly awry would be an understatement of mythic proportions.

"I tried to warn you!" Angel insisted. "But noooooooo...you had to go running off to play hero..."

"Play hero?!?" Buffy said, stamping one little foot angrily on the top of Angel's desk. "It's my job, Angel! I don't remember hearing you complain all those other times I saved your pasty white rump!"

"Oh, sure," Angel grumbled, "make fun of my complexion. Not like I can do something about it, like go out and get a tan like everyone else in L.A...."

"And furthermore," Buffy said, looking down at her puppet body and speaking as if she hadn't heard a word Angel said, "I think these puppet clothes make me look fat!"

Angel sighed. "They don't make you look fat."

"Oh," Buffy said sharply, her felt-covered head lifting so her heavily-lashed eyes could glare at him, "but I still could be fat, even if the clothes don't make me look it?"

"No, that is not what I said," Angel said, trying to control his growing irritation.

"And you might subjectively think I'm not fat," Buffy went on, crossing her little arms again, "but objectively, I could be?"

Angel sighed angrily. The dangers of a college education, he thought. How on Earth had he ended up in the conversation from hell with his girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend, he reminded himself, though it always pained him to think of her that way. The sudden pang of lost love did not help his mood.

"Look," Angel said, his puppet-magnified impatience evident in his voice, "could we please stop talking about HOW FAT YOU ARE?!?"

As soon as he said it, he realized his horrible mistake. Puppet Buffy's little arched brows rose as high as they could go on her felt forehead. Her wide puppet mouth, with its tiny red lips at its center, opened wide in anger and shock. Angel's brow rose in terror, and he held up his little hands apologetically.

"YOU THINK I'M FAT!!" Buffy screeched. Her little felt hands curled into fists that would have looked awfully cute if Angel weren't so suddenly and utterly terrified. Buffy's mouth slammed shut, her lower lip pushing up against the upper one and trembling slightly. She reached inside her little leather coat and pulled out a tiny wooden stake and held it up threateningly. "You insensitive jerk! I ought to dust you right now!"

Angel made no move to avoid her impending assault. Yes, please, stake me and put me out of my misery, he thought dejectedly.

"BUFFY!" Wesley said, stepping forward and reaching out to stop the puppet Slayer's attack. "Angel! Both of you! Try to control yourselves!" Both ensorcelled champions had, in their agitation, forgotten that Wesley was present. "Listen to me, Buffy. The puppet spell doesn't just make you look like a puppet--you also end up acting like one. Your emotional reactions are heightened. You'll suffer from intense mood swings and sudden losses of temper."

"So, what," Buffy said after thinking about what Wesley had said, "we have, like, puppet PMS?"

Wesley's brows rose slightly. "An...apt metaphor, I suppose," he said cautiously.

"Hmph. 'Apt metaphor'," Buffy repeated in an amused voice. "That's so Gilesey."

"Thank you, I think," Wesley said, relaxing now that the Slayer appeared to be calming down.

"Uh, could you put away..." Angel said, pointing at the small, but still threatening stake.

"Oh!" Buffy cried, glancing at the weapon. She quickly stuffed it back into her coat, then walked across the desk towards Angel. "I'm so sorry, Angel!" she said, her voice distraught over what she'd almost done. "I'd never stake you, you know that! I just...lost it. It-it must be the spell, like Wesley said!"

"Hey, it's okay, no harm done," Angel said with a casual wave of his felt-covered hand. "And if I was going to be staked by anyone...well, I'd want it to be you."

Buffy knelt down in front of him and gazed at him sweetly.

"Oh, Angel," she cooed.

"Oh, Buffy..." he murmured.

"Oh, God," Wesley muttered.

The two puppets turned to glare at him, but Wesley didn't mind. Buffy and Angel's maudlin, angst-ridden romance was hard enough to take at the best of times, but in puppet form? He'd be tempted to gouge his own eyes out rather than watch that.

"You know, you're different," Puppet Buffy said to Wesley as she straightened and walked across the desk towards him. She cocked her felt head and studied him. "Less dorky. Not big on the stubbly look, but anything would have been an improvement."

"Well...thank you...ever so much," Wesley replied dubiously.

Puppet Buffy frowned. "Are you still keeping a girl in your closet?"

Wesley's eyes went wide, and he coughed in embarrassment. "No, not for some time, actually...how did you...?"

"Oh, Willow told me," Buffy said with a casual wave of her little hand. "It was, like, major ick. Good thing that's over, 'cause puppet or not, I'd have to kick your ass."

"It was for a good cause," Wesley said defensively. "I did it for Angel."

"Yeah, right," Buffy said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "'Oh, that girl in the bondage gear in my closet? She's not for me. I'm holding her for a friend!'"

Angel and Wesley were both aghast. "It wasn't like that!" they said in unison.

"Whatever..." Buffy muttered, her little button-sized eyes gazing up at the ceiling.

Just then, their attention was drawn to another figure that walked in through Angel's office door. His long black leather duster swung around his legs, the soft flapping noise announcing his presence. His angular features, and that head of bleached-blond hair, made him immediately recognizable. He quickly took in Wesley and Angel, but failed to notice Buffy at first. Puppet Buffy, for her part, was staring in amazement at him, her wide mouth open and revealing her painted tongue and larynx.

"Don't getcher knickers in a twist, 'head boy'", Spike said to Wesley, "I'm just poppin' in to see the big man." He smirked. "Or, little man now, as it were." Spike approached the desk, then stopped abruptly when he spotted the other, distinctively female puppet. "Oh. Well. Found a playmate for the wee little puppet man, eh?" Spike's smirk grew as he looked Puppet Buffy up and down. "Well, isn't that just..." Spike's voice trailed off. He frowned, studying the female puppet; there was something oddly familiar about it...

"Spike!" Buffy said. "You're...you're alive! Or...still undead, I guess..."

Spike's eyes went wide. He took a step back. "Buffy?" he said incredulously.

Spike's pale blue eyes looked her up and down again, as if he couldn't believe what he saw. But he'd heard her voice, the voice he heard in his dreams, the voice he'd know anywhere. The last time that voice had said something to him, it had said the one thing he'd longed to hear from her for so long, the one thing he'd been willing to die for. He'd been fighting with the urge to call her, to see her, ever since he'd come back. But he'd resisted. Why? Because he was afraid, and he wasn't used to being afraid. Even so, he knew that one way or another, he'd have to see her again. Now here she was, standing right before him. And she was a bloody puppet!

Spike's face suddenly clouded with rage. He turned to glare at Angel. "What the bleedin' 'ell 'ave you done to 'er?!?" Spike snarled and launched himself at Angel, grasping the shocked puppet around his soft felt throat.

"Urk!" Angel exclaimed. "Spike..." he rasped as the other vampire yanked him out of his chair with an angry roar.

"Hey!" Buffy shouted. "Leave him alone!"

Angel frowned, his puppet fuse already burning short. He pulled back his legs and then struck out, kicking Spike square in the chest. The blond vampire reeled backwards, but kept his grip on Angel. As Spike tottered back past the side of the desk, Buffy launched herself at him. She landed on his shoulder and wrapped her little legs around his neck and her arms around his head of blond hair, which she yanked on painfully.

"Ow!" Spike shouted. "Buffy, stop...OW!" he cried petulantly.

"Quit whining!" Buffy said angrily as Spike, with Angel now biting down strongly but ineffectually on his wrist, stumbled backwards into the center of the office. "Gee, it's just like old times!" she added as she began to pummel Spike's temple with her soft little fist.

Spike had now let go of Angel and was waving his arm madly in a vain attempt to shake the puppet loose, but Angels' broad puppet mouth remained firmly clamped onto Spike's forearm. Puppet Buffy remained fastened to his head, one little arm partially blinding him and the other pulling back his upper lip into an unintentional but appropriate sneer. All three combatants were grunting with exertion.

"Oh, dear Lord..." Wesley muttered as his dark brown eyes rolled up towards the ceiling.

Spike was back-pedaling blindly, struggling now with two very angry puppets. He stumbled into Angel's coffee table and fell over backwards. He landed on the table awkwardly, then bounced off it, the two puppets still clinging to him as he rolled across the carpeted floor. Finally, he managed to shake Angel loose and toss him aside. He then grabbed Buffy where she was still latched onto his head and pulled her off. She spun away from him, but deftly landed on her little puppet feet.

Spike remained on the floor, glancing back and forth between the two puppets who were both glaring at him, apparently ready to recommence the fight at a moment's notice.

"Couldn't stand it, could you?" Spike spat at Angel. "Couldn't bear it, bein' a ruddy puppet! You 'ad to make 'er into one too! I hope you're satisfied..."

"Hey!" Buffy declared, placing her little felt hands on her hips. "It wasn't his fault!"

"Yeah!" Angel agreed, then glanced at Buffy. "And thank you for finally admitting it! Look, Spike, she went to Smile Time to try to help me, before I could warn her. I didn't want this to happen to her!"Spike only snorted derisively.

"Besides," Buffy went on, "aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Oh, now there's the pot callin' the bloody kettle!" Spike said, the anger in his voice failing to conceal the hurt that was there as well. "So much for the tearful, relieved reunion! 'Oh, Spike'," he said, eyes towards the ceiling, his voice raised mockingly, "'...I thought I'd lost you when you saved the world...and my life! Now why aren't you dead, you bloody git?'" he finished, his voice falling back to its hurt, resentful timbre. He glanced at Buffy angrily. "No wonder I didn't believe you when you told me you loved me!" Spike sat up, his legs bent, and wrapped his arms around his knees. He turned from Buffy and stared morosely at the carpet.

"You told him you loved him?" Angel said incredulously, his little felt hand pointing at Spike. "Him?!" Buffy just shrugged, uncertain what she should say. Angel crossed his arms, his broad lower lip pressing upwards, and turned away from Buffy. He made a petulant harumph-ing noise.

"Oh, quit pouting, both of you!" Buffy said angrily. "What have you got, like, four hundred years between the two of you? You'd think a little maturity would be part of the whole immortality deal..." The two vampires looked a little embarrassed at that. "Spike...it just threw me for a loop, seeing you..."

"Yeah, well, same here, especially since..." Spike said, turning to glance at Buffy. He paused in mid-sentence. "No. No, I can't do this," he said as he pushed himself to his feet.

"What? Do what?" Buffy asked as she stared up at him. "You can't talk to me just because I'm a puppet?"

"You're bloody well right I can't!" Spike declared. "Buffy, I have so much to say to you! But...I kind of need to say it with a straight face, and you...!" He smirked, waved his open hand at her, and did his best to suppress a giggle. Puppet Buffy's mouth opened in shock. "No. I can't. I can't take this," Spike said as his smile disappeared. He then turned and walked towards the door. "It's a madhouse. A sodding madhouse!" he cried as he walked out of the office.

"Well...I'm glad you went all Cajun-crusty saving the world!" Buffy shouted angrily after him. "I hope it hurt!" she added petulantly. In the distance, she could just see his long black coat flapping about his lithe legs like a bat's wings, and the short, nearly-white, wavy hair atop his head. "Damn, he's hot..." she muttered.

"Maybe, but he sure can't stand the heat..." Angel said, smug triumph in his voice, as he ambled over beside her.

"Oh, don't start!" Buffy said, turning to glare at him. "You know, you could have told me Spike was back!"

Angel's mouth dropped open. "Hey! He didn't want me to!"

"Uh-huh."

"Really!"

"Hey, Angel, I think we found something...whoah." Charles Gunn said as he walked into Angel's office and stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted Puppet Buffy. Fred and Lorne were right on his heels. They also stopped, looking past him in puzzlement until they spotted the second puppet standing next to Angel.

"There's...another puppet?" Fred asked rhetorically, staring wide-eyed at Buffy.

"Oh, I need another Seabreeze," Lorne declared.

Angel sighed. "Everyone, this is Buffy. Buffy, this is Fred, Gunn, and Lorne," he said. "She went down to Smile Time to try to help me, and then..."

"Buffy? As in vampire-dustin', apocalypse-avertin', undead-ass-kickin' Buffy?" Gunn said, his lips curling into a smile. "It's an honor!" he said, bending down and reaching out to shake Buffy's little felt hand.

"Charles Gunn, right?" Buffy said as she shook his hand. Gunn's eyebrows rose in surprise as he released her hand and straightened. "I hear you've taken out more than a few of the evil undead yourself," she said in a complimentary tone.

"Ah, strictly bush league stuff," Gunn said with an appreciative smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. "You, you're dream team material." He studied the Vampire Slayer for a moment. "But you know, I kind of thought you'd be taller."

"Yeah, I get that even when I'm not a puppet..." Buffy remarked.

"Uh, Angel-cakes..." Lorne said anxiously, "are we...all gonna turn into puppets? 'Cause I think I'd like to get my desk munchkinized in advance."

"We are not all gonna turn into puppets!" Angel said angrily. "Gunn. You said you have something?"

"Actually, Fred has something..." Gunn said, turning with a smile towards Fred.

"Oh," the slender brunette said, "well, actually, it was Wesley that put me onto it..."

"Could you people cut the mutual admiration society and spill already?!" Buffy insisted.

"Uh, right, sorry," Fred said with a nervous glance at Buffy. "Well...there's a hidden carrier wave masked by a spell that turns the TV into a 2-way conduit with direct access to the viewer. The big egg-thingy you both must have encountered is, like, this big capacitor for the children's life force."

"Ah!" Wesley said suddenly. All eyes--puppet, demon, and human, turned to him. "So if we can break the binding magic on it..."

"It should free those children," Fred finished his thought for him with an admiring smile. "Oh, and... it should also...reverse your puppet problem. Problems."

Angel's wide puppet mouth opened in a big smile. He ran forward and wrapped himself around Fred's leg. "I love you guys!" he shouted.

Fred looked down at Angel in surprise, then smiled abashedly as she glanced at Puppet Buffy, who suddenly appeared to be working up towards a really good fume.

"A-hem," Buffy coughed pointedly, her little arms crossing over her chest.

"Oh," Angel said as he pushed himself away from Fred's slender but shapely legs. "Uh, just, acknowledging the excellent work of the team. Heh." Buffy just glared at him. "Well, we better go take care of Framkin..."

"Oh, Framkin's not the one doing it," Gunn said. "I pulled the contract. It's the puppets. They're demons. The show is possessed."

"Aren't all children's shows possessed?" Buffy remarked.

"Barney wasn't!" Fred insisted. Everyone stared at her. She glanced at Gunn uncertainly. "Was he?"

"You really don't wanna know the answer to that question," Gunn said.

"So, if we want to take out Smile Time," Buffy began to say as she walked over to Angel's wall of weapons...

"...we take out the puppets," Angel said, following her.

She jumped up and grabbed hold of a broadsword; she landed on her little puppet feet and handed it to him. Then she jumped up again and pulled down a hand-axe that dwarfed her puppet body. The two puppets turned and cast determined looks at the others.

"Puppets with weapons," Lorne murmured. "Why is this not a comforting sight?"

"Lorne, you stay here and hold down the fort," Angel said. "Everyone else--with me and Buffy." He turned and glanced at the puppet-form of his one true love. "You ready to kick some cute, fuzzy demon ass?"

"I could slay," Buffy replied with false nonchalance.

"That's my girl," Angel said as he slung the huge broadsword over his shoulders and Buffy rested the axe upon one of hers. The two puppet champions walked towards the door and then through it, followed by Gunn, Fred, and Wes, all marching determinedly out into battle.

"Let's take out some puppets!" Angel said.

As they marched out through the lobby of Wolfram and Hart, Puppet Buffy gave Angel a soft nudge in the the spot where his ribs would normally have been.

"'Let's take out some puppets?'" she quoted under her breath. "No offense, but as rousing battle cries go? Not one of your best."

Puppet Angel sighed as he walked towards the elevators. "I'll work on it..." he muttered. Then his brow raised thoughtfully. "Work...go to work? Get to work? Hmmm..."

To be continued...