disclaimer: I don't own anything Joss Whedon does. I'm just a writer, a fan.

hope you guys like this one; I kind of like it

Super Cheerleader

he-choo

Oh, sorry. allergies. Yeah, tell me about it. Snot in the spring, snot in the fall. Hate it. Huh?

Oh right, the story. Just lemme get another shot of bourbon. Hey, believe me, pal, the drinks are required for the telling of this story. Tragic? Well, depends on how you look at it. Hmm? Oh, well, if I'm completely delusional, than that's kind of tragic, wouldn't you say?

Well, pal, if you'd shut up and let me take my drink, I'll tell you exactly what I mean, all right? All right, all right! Didn't mean to offend or nothing, sheesh.

Okay, so I'm walking home from this stupid class and- Never mind what the class was, it's not important. Look, it's not- Okay, fine. It was a yoga class, okay? Yes, yoga. It's not that funny. Shut up, or I'll find someone who's really interested in my story.

Okay, okay! Just let me get on with it, okay?

Right, so walking home from yoga class. See, I'm embarrassed- Yeah, yeah… Okay, so, because I'm embarrassed about taking the yoga class, I take one at night, right? So I'm walking home, and it's dark. And, well, I start to get nervous.

Laugh all you want, but if you lived in Sunnydale, you'd be nervous too.

Well, weird stuff goes on down there. Like what? Well, like…weird stuff. People disappearing, people getting killed. It's a messed up town.

So I'm walking home and I'm freaked. Well, then I start hearing these noises. Like there's someone around, but they're creeping around and stuff.

So I'm getting even more freaked and I start walking faster. Well, the sounds aren't going away, like someone's following me. So I bolt, you know? I want to get clear out of there.

Well, all of a sudden, this thing comes out of nowhere and jumps on me! Pins me up against a wall. And it looks like a guy, but his face is all screwed up. I mean, this guy's face looked like someone had put acid on it or something sick like that.

So I'm just pissing myself, you know? I know I'm gonna die, right?

Well all of a sudden, I get saved. And you'll never believe who saves me.

Well I hear this voice, and it's some chick. So I know I'm doomed, cause it's a chick, and I'm thinking there's no way some chick's gonna save me, right?

Well, this guy with the screwed up face turns his head, like he's looking at her, right, and he-now get this-he growls, like a dog or something. So I look over to see the chick, thinking maybe I caught a lucky break and she's got a Uzi or something on her.

No luck. As soon as I see the chick, I know I'm dead. I'm looking at a little blonde haired and blue eyed cheerleader type with a stick in her hand. A stick, like that's gonna be any help, right?

Well, the screwed up face guy tosses me down and starts after her. Well, I figure that she brought it on herself, so I start getting my ass out of there. But then I feel kinda guilty, so I look back. You'll never believe what I see. This cheerleader, is kicking the freak's ass. Unbelievable, I know, but swear to god it's true.

So the next thing I see-and this is where I know I gotta be psychonetic or schizo or whatever, cause I see this little cheerleader stab the freak with her stick. I'm thinking the freak disserved it. But then-but then the freak turns into dust! Yeah, dust! And the cheerleader just picks up her stick and walks off like it was nothing!

Crazy story, I know, but I'm telling you it happened. To think-I got saved by Super Cheerleader. Hey, maybe I shoulda stuck around-bet she was easy, you know? Didn't look half bad for a freak-stabbing cheerleader.

So anyways, that's my story and that's why I am never going nowhere near Sunnydale again.

Directions? Look, I got to get home. But tell you what-I'll buy you a drink for your time. What'd you say you're name was? Spike? Well Spike, I'll buy you and that cute little lady of yours a-

What the hell? Your face-Oh my god! You're one of them! N!

Spike took the drink the man had offered-and then some. When he was finished, he wiped the blood on his mouth onto the back of his head.

"Thanks, chum," he said to the corpse, "Guess we'll find a map to the Sunnydale place."

The demon bartender gave Spike a look as the vampire started out.

"What?" Spike demanded.

The bartender pointed sternly at the empty glasses that had once been the man's.

Spike rolled his eyes. "You gotta be jokin'."

The bartender pointed to a sign behind him. "Policy," he growled.

Spike found that the sign did indeed read: 'Tabs must be paid by ALL-even deceased'.

Spike gritted his fangs as he dug in his pocket. He pulled out a 10, slapped it on the bar, and headed out, muttering obscenities and threats regarding the bartender.

The DeSoto was waiting out back, complete with Dru, who was sitting patiently in the passenger seat. Spike hopped in and put the keys in the ignition.

Dru, who looked very pleased to see her childe return, said in her whispy voice, "Was he as tasty as I thought?"

Spike replied with a shrug, "I've had a lot better."

"Did he tell you where the nasty little slayer is?"

"More or less."

Dru ran her fingers over Spike's duster, the prize kept from the last slayer kill. "My Spike. He's grown so big and strong. And now he'll kill mummy another nasty slayer, and bring mummy the slayer's heart, so mummy can eat it all up."

Spike smiled at her appreciatively. "Anythin' for you, Dru. And anythin' to bag another slayer."

Dru giggled like a little girl.

The vampire lovers shared a quick kiss before Spike floored it and they were on their way to Sunnydale.