Buffy Big Brother Season 2

by Larbo

The sequel to Buffy Big Brother season 1. I think it's fair to say that while the first season was played mainly for laughs, the second particularly the final two days are a lot more dramatic in tone. Again, a collaborative effort!

5. Day 5

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 5 (Buffy's Birthday - morning)

Morning crept over the Big Brother house stealthily, so as not to startle anyone therein. It washed over the recumbent form of Giles, peacefully snoozing in his nightshirt (Xander had expressed surprise that he didn't own a tweed gown), over Xander too, who was far from peaceful in his slumber, tossing and turning as if some great internal dilemma was raging within him (actually he was just dreaming about a man quite intent on offering him cheese, but nonetheless an internal struggle was raging).

Morning may well have dawned inside Spike & Drusilla's blacked-out room. Frankly no-one was prepared to go in and find out, Sanctuary spell or not. Mercifully the soundproofing spell Big Brother had cast two days previously had greatly improved the amount of sleep had by everyone else, even if Xander had still lain awake at times trying precisely to decipher each individual squeal, moan and downright howl. In fact it was on the top of a few of their minds to inquire of Big Brother how exactly the Sanctuary spell had yet permitted Spike & Dru to engage in their...standard...form of togetherness.

Willow was awake to experience morning. She and Oz had shared a jamming session last night which, despite Buffy's suggestive sniggering, was entirely musically-based. Willow had insisted upon marking the occasion by opening up Giles' two largest pots of blackberry jam, thinking this to be somehow traditional. Giles, unavailable in the Diary Room (yet again) chatting to the female voice of Big Brother, had yet to discover this. It wasn't worry that had Willow awake though; she was simply gazing out at nothing much, her head a helpless swirl of emotions.

For so long, for forever, she'd held Xander up on a plinth all his own. And now, somehow, she was on a plinth herself, one so high she'd have to look down to see Cloud Nine...and Xander was nowhere to be seen. It was thrilling and confusing, and she needed processing time. After all, no-one knew why Oz had been brought into the house. He was a complete stranger to most of them, and only a passing nod of Xander's. Did they bring him in for me? she wondered. Because Buffy has Angel...and Drusilla has Spike...and even Mr Jam has that sultry-voiced vixen.

So who do Xander and Cordelia have?

Outside, in the back garden, Buffy and Angel watched the first morning rays slink across the greenery. The sky above was a breathtaking car-wreck of reds and yellows.

"Beats graveyards." Buffy observed, even as she and Angel took an almost unconscious step back, into the safety of the shade of the porch.

"Happy Birthday," Angel told her. His hand, already safely in hers, squeezed her fingers together.

"Seems like only last week I was sixteen," Buffy said reflectively. There was a second's pause as they mulled over this.

"Angel, please come to the Diary Room." came the call from Big Brother, with incredibly good timing.

They exchanged a soulful look. It was their speciality. Hardly a look went past now between them that wasn't soulful. Every syllable of conversation between them, although still at times free-flowing and sparkling, dripped with masked tension.

"I should go-"

"Yeah. Besides, I need some sleep. Gotta be fresh for my adoring public later."

"It should be a big night," Angel nodded.

Buffy added another notch to the soulful-o-meter. "I hope so."

----

"Good morning, Angel."

Angel noted silently that it was Giles' chat friend whose voice he heard. Though the Watcher was striking up a rapport with this woman (enough of a rapport to set the teenage rumour machine inside the house into overdrive) Angel couldn't shake the odd feeling that the voice contained a rasp of hostility when addressing him. "Morning," he replied.

"Big Brother needs to discuss Buffy's birthday arrangements tonight."

"Okay."

"We'd prefer it if you didn't attend."

That one brought him up short. "Why?"

"We've noticed friction between you and Buffy's friends. We don't want her to be unhappy at her birthday party. So we'd prefer it if you stayed away."

Angel considered it for a moment. "No," he said simply.

He waited for the increasingly inevitable portal-related threat. None came. "Fine. Party supplies will begin arriving at 7pm through the usual methods. Try to keep the kids off the booze. And tell Giles I - Big Brother," the voice hurriedly corrected, "need to talk to him about...arrangements too. That's all."

"I have a request," Angel said, and had the satisfaction of knowing that this time he had sprung the surprise.

"Yes?"

"Regarding her birthday supplies," he went on, leaning forward in the chair, "I want you to add one more item to the list..."

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 5 (Buffy's Birthday - afternoon)

Willow liked noon. Though spells of all kinds were zipping around the Big Brother house (and, she reminded herself again, she really would have to get around to broaching the subject of investigating those spells with Giles some time soon) she was still far from comfortable around Spike and Drusilla. Those two didn't exactly go out of their way to inspire inclusivity; Big Brother had issued a warning only last night to Spike that planning the elaborately slow deaths of his fellow housemates did not qualify as "polite group discussion".

As for Drusilla...Willow shuddered. Sure vampires were soulless monsters (Angel excepted, he was a big ole sweetie really) but she'd never met an insane one before. It was an unexpected extra perversion and one that served to thoroughly unnerve all who spent more than a few seconds in Drusilla's company. Plus, Willow was sure that Miss Edith had nefarious plans for FrankenBarbie.

She set her jaw and gazed out at the weird, not-quite-real landscape outside the Big Brother perimeter. Sure, last week she may have been a bit of a wet lettuce - oh who am I kidding, I was wetter than a mermaid's showercap - but this week she was going to stand up for herself. In fact, even if the Sanctuary spell didn't guarantee protection, she would still have thought these thoughts about Drusilla. From a long way away, obviously, but they would have been thought with such venom.

"Whoa," Xander whistled. "I haven't seen resolve face in a long time. What's up, Will?"

Willow rather spoiled her tough-girl new look by almost falling off the garden wall. She hadn't heard Xander approach. Truth be told, she was surprised to see him at all - these past couple of days he'd retreated more and more into himself and oh my God, I'm just noticing this now?

"Xander!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with sudden guilt. "Great to see you all uppy-and-abouty again, instead of...well not that you were downy-and-outy, but you did go kinda hermit crab on us."

Xander shrugged. "I know. I had to work a few things out."

"Buffy-related things?" Willow winced, wishing she could suck the words back in, and then preferably cut off her tongue and keep it in a jar. Except not that Twilight Zone jar, where it would grow baby tongues.

Xander, however, was unwincy. "Pretty much." He caught her concerned look and smiled, and Willow's heart lifted (and, to her alarm, melted slightly), for it was very much the old Xander who grinned. "Relax Will - it was a crush. These things happen when you're young and naive and y'know, incredibly handsome like me."

A snort of derision cut off Willow's reply. Cordelia arched out to join them on the porch's overlapping wall. "Handsome?" she repeated. "I don't know what kind of smoke you're inhaling in that filthy room of yours, but it obviously has perception-altering effects, little man."

Willow rolled her eyes. Figuratively speaking, of course. She awaited Xander's instant riposte with utter confidence. He and Cordelia had been duelling with their verbal rapiers for years now - he wasn't about to let a fairly clumsy thrust like that go by without a cutting parry.

Except, he was.

"What?" Xander asked, astonished.

Cordelia shook her head in apparent disbelief. "Give my regards to the Special Olympics," she sneered, and made to walk off, only to find her entrance back to the house blocked by Oz.

"My cousin is autistic," Oz said. "Don't say things like that, okay? I bet he thinks lines of girls who think waving bushes of tinsel qualifies as high art is pretty differently abled too."

And with that, he stepped aside. A thunderous moment of silence reigned for a moment. Willow swore she could hear the soft thump of her jaw hitting the stone floor of the porch.

Cordelia, caught completely unawares, merely trembled with rage for a second before gathering her dignity and sweeping into the house. Oz cast a glance after her and allowed a tiny frown to surface on his face, before dismissing this heavy show of emotion.

"Hey Willow," he said agreeably, and was plain old ordinary Oz again. Except he wasn't, and from that moment again in her eyes, never would be. "Can I join you?" he went on.

"Plinth do."

He chuckled, not even asking for an explanation. "Thankth."

"Xander, are you-?"

He was already gone.

----

Drusilla was brushing Miss Edith's hair. Again. Spike tried not to bite his tongue in frustration (though he often did, for snack purposes). She'd been in an odd mood since they'd retreated to their room to escape the encroaching sunlight a few hours earlier. He grunted inwardly - spending a century with Drusilla, you had to invent a whole different vocabulary to catalogue her 'odd moods'. She could make the Mona Lisa seem expressive.

Plus, not to put too fine a point on it - something Spike was spectacularly bad at - there were few things two effectively caged vampires could do to kill time until the comfort of darkness returned outside, and Spike was having a hard time keeping his mind off the one that sprang to mind most easily...

"Luv," he tried again, "I think her hair is tangle-free by now. Can't we-"

"Patience my puppy," Drusilla sang, never taking her eyes from the doll for a second. "You can play with Mummy soon, soon, but she's ever so busy right now, she is. She must prepare, she must make ready, and Miss Edith is everso unready, she is. Not ready at all. Just like the rest of them out there," and she spat suddenly, and even Spike had to stop himself from starting from the abruptness of her hatred, "the wicked ones. The shameful ones. But Mummy's almost made her ready, ready for him to come."

"Fine," Spike muttered, "I've got a headache would've been bloody quicker, but fine," and he sulked for a moment, idly wondering if he could dash out to the kitchen for a few Weetabix n' plasma biscuits. He was getting a bit sick of the damn things, but it was worth it just to see the look on the humans' faces while he munched merrily away. Angelus seemed to move around the house fairly freely, if in a limited fashion, during the day.

Angel, he corrected himself, not bothering to hide a growl. The Angelus pretence had lasted for no more than a few hours - this sap, this impostor had - Spike almost retched - love written all over him for this pocket blonde Slayer. Once the terror of Europe, slaughterer of countless innocents, and now reeking, stinking of real human feeling for the ancient sworn nemesis of vampires everywh...

...and something in Spike's none-too-complex brain went, at last, drop.

"Him?" he asked, swinging his legs from the bed and turning to face Dru. "Who's this him, luv?"

Dru looked ashamed. "Can't see clearly," she admitted, "but the dreams, Spike...I've been dreaming of him. Such pretty dreams! Such glorious dreams, Spike!"

Spike was intrigued now. Drusilla had the gift, no doubt about it; it was why, after all, Angelus had been so relentless in his pursuits to drive her insane and make her a vampire. Her dreams came true. And Drusilla's dreams were always, always nice and good dreams. World War I...Hiroshima...Vietnam...Cambodia...such nice and pretty dreams they had been.

"He's coming here?" Spike asked again.

Drusilla stared into empty space. "So funny," she said, and barked a short laugh, "I keep thinking that, somehow precious, he's here already."

----

He had absolutely no idea in the world what he was going to say.

"Hey, bitch?"

No, on second thought, he'd known all along he was going to say that.

Cordelia turned. "What did you call me?"

Xander came to a stop facing her, as they stood in the entrance to the girls bedroom, just out of poking distance. Cordelia's expertly-manicured fingernails stopped just short of having a ten-day waiting period. "You heard me," he replied evenly. "And if you're expecting an apology, you're even more of an airheaded blimp than I took you for, you vacuous tramp."

Cordelia's eyes widened with rage. "You worthless...dateless...nerd!"

She got a finger jabbed at her in return for this remark. "Worthless dateless nerd who you made out with," Xander pointed out triumphantly.

"Made out?"

"Well I admit it probably doesn't rank in your usual scale, Cordelia. And I'm sorry, but the Diary Room didn't have a dresser, so where shall I leave the cash? Or are we working on a credit system here?"

"Are you getting this?!" Cordelia fairly screamed to the cameras overhead. "I want all of this recorded, for the benefit of my legal team, because I intend, Xander Harris, to sue you and your Joe Pitchfork little family until you're all longing to be able to afford to starve to death."

Xander was about to reply when a thought struck him. "That's a point," he said brightly, "maybe I should ask Big Brother for the tape of our little coming-together in the Diary Room? For a souvenir while we all starve to death? What do you think, Cordelia?"

Clearly, Cordelia Chase had until that point forgotten that the events of the Diary Room would have been recorded on video. Her face went deathly white. "Oh my God," she gasped, staggering back on unsteady legs to totter into a seating position on her bed. "I'm ruined. It's all over. I'll never cheerlead again. Unless it's for..." and she sobbed brokenly, "...a softball team. Oh Goddddd..."

Xander was caught in conflicting emotions. At some basic level he felt responsible for her tears and was tempted (only very very very slightly) to offer a comforting arm. And yet, somehow, I can't help but feel slightly insulted by the fact that being seen kissing me has her lamenting the end of her life...

He sat down beside her, against her better judgement. "C'mon," he offered awkwardly, and after a moment's thought, "c'mon now. Stop it."

"Overoveroveroveroverover..."

"Look...if anyone asks about it outside, you can tell them you were drugged the entire time. You mistook me for some butch jock with meatballs for brains and a defined six-pack. It was a big mistake."

The soft moaning beside him subsided. Cordelia poked her head out. "You really mean it?" she choked. "You'd do that for me?"

"Why not?" Xander continued cheerfully. "I can always say I mistook you for a human."

It was, in short, the nicest thing, the most selfless gesture, that anyone in their entire lives had ever done for Cordelia. It gave her a way out of this terrible mess, this unexplainable error, and a way she could claw her way back onto the popularity bandwagon she'd worked so hard not to ever have to jump onto in the first place. It certainly wasn't the sort of gesture she would ruin by further compounding the mistake by, say, kissing Xander Harris again.

They managed, later, to repair the bed.

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 5 (Buffy's Birthday Party)

"Is this really necessary, Will?" Buffy complained, as the blindfold was draped over her eyes. She felt Willow's weight shift behind her on her bed, and could almost picture her furrow of concentration as she fastened the knot which would obscure Buffy's vision for the near future. "Yes it is. Now quit complaining or I'll gut ya like a fish."
"Tough, but fair."
"I mean it's not like I don't know I'm getting a party-"
Willow pulled the blindfold unnecessarily tight, cutting Buffy off mid-gripe. "You'd better start pretending then, hadn't you?" she said, as she steered Buffy off the bed and to the doorway with immense caution. Buffy hadn't the heart to tell her that, with her Slayer senses, she could have navigated her way to the living area blindfolded.
"Yeow!"
"Oops. Sorry."
Well - it's my birthday, Buffy thought defensively. I'm entitled to be jazzed. Her muscles tensed abruptly as her Slayer senses, a little embarrassed by the incident with the doorhandle, scrambled to redeem themselves by informing her that -
"Never knew you were into this sort of thing, Red. I like it, although it could use some little touches - fluffy handcuffs, a leather collar..."
"Willow's no more a lesbian than you are a Boy Scout, Spike. Now get the hell out of our way," Buffy said sweetly, her foot unconsciously lining up the best angle to bury itself into some soft vampire bits.
"Pity," Spike leered as they moved past him, "here was me all looking forward to Bob A Job week..."
Buffy extended an arm as they left him behind. "Did he see that?" she hissed to Willow.
"Yes," Willow giggled. "He looks ready to bite through a wall. Oh - we're here! Right, you stand here..." she left Buffy, just as the Slayer felt the evening breeze from the garden caress her face again.
"Okay Buffy, on the count of five, you can take off the blindfold...five... four...three... two...one...now!"
Buffy obliged, pulling the red silken barrier down from her eyes. She gasped. The entire living area had been decked out in regal tones of red and crimson and purple. Balloons and streamers dangled from every available suface. A huge buffet spread filled the kitchen table; her nose eagerly sought out the telltale scent of nachos and pizza. Her friends stood facing her in a half-circle, Xander and Willow in the centre.
And despite all of this, her first thought was where is he?
Wisely, she didn't decide to vocalise it. "I can't believe this!" she beamed, opening her arms up and throwing them around first Willow, then Xander, then (a rather bemused) Giles. "Look at all this!"
"Big Brother really was most generous," Giles agreed, regarding the feast while cleaning his glasses fastidiously. Buffy could have hugged him again, if he wasn't too English to take it without bursting to flames.
"Well it helps to have contacts on the inside, eh G-Man?"
"Xander, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh c'mon Giles," Xander snorted, "you spend so much time in the Diary Room it's becoming the Collected Works Of Shakespeare Room..."
And then, something quite astonishing happened.
"Happy birthday Buffy," Cordelia said. "You look..." and her voice faltered, and everyone held their collective breath as they waited for her to produce the latest putdown, and Cordelia sucked in a long and laboured breath, "...you look...good."
The universe exhaled, all in a rush. The universe except Xander, who permitted the very tiniest hint of a hint of a smile to tic the edge of his mouth, even as Willow, Giles, Oz (who went so far as to raise a whole eyebrow) and the birthday girl gaped at Cordelia.
"Well don't get accustomed to it," the subject of their amazement snapped. "Let's just get down to party business while most of us are young."
As the others scattered to various tasks, Xander sidled over to Cordelia's side. "That was nice. Smoke coming out of your ears kept to a minimum."
"Can it, Harris."
"Ever the charmer," he marvelled as she flounced away. Despite this, despite the craziness of it all, he was unable to keep that tiny smile from germinating further across his face. Something weird was happening, something so unexpected it wasn't just out of the ballpark but into the mini-mall two towns over...but Xander, for some odd reason, didn't hate it.
And so the party progressed. Buffy delighted in her presents, erratic though they were in nature (the "don't-crush-my-spirit" look on Willow's face as she presented Buffy with various face-eggs from the garden outside was a particular highlight). Giles, after not very much encouragement but (crucially) a bottle and a half of Directors whiskey chose that moment to let the gang in on his musical past, resulting in a very pensive-looking Oz handing over his guitar to the librarian.
The noise, and the fact that the sun had finally gone down, attracted Spike and Drusilla from their bedroom. Spike's hilarious laughter at Giles' musical efforts served to irritate the normally slow to anger Watcher to such a degree that he flung three of Willow's face-eggs at the vampire...
...and, much to the astonishment - and alarm - of everyone, they impacted.
"It's about bloody time!" Spike roared in pleasure, swinging a massive roundhouse at the unexpecting Slayer-
-whoomph-
Buffy peered over his crumpled body, which had taken a sofa with it. "Looks like the Sanctuary spell is back on again, Spike," she observed.
Giles' alarm abated. He glanced up at where the camera was widely believed to be in the living area. "Thank you, Jenny."
"Don't mention it, Rupert."
"No friends in high places, eh?" Xander reminded him, grinning lewdly.
"Oh do shut up, Xander."
Spike got to his feet, apoplectic with rage, his beloved leather jacket covered in yellow, dripping yolk stains. "You just wait. You all...just wait. You'll be begging for me to kill you by the end."
"Oh Spike," Buffy tutted most disapprovingly, "must you egg us on so?"
With a final exclamation of impotent rage Spike left the living area, pursued by a seemingly oblivious Drusilla.
"My eggs..." Willow wailed. "Giles, how could you?"
Buffy extended a comforting arm around her friend. "Will, believe me, seeing Spike like that was the best present I could have gotten."
"Sure about that?"
The breath caught in Buffy's throat. She slowly turned around. Standing in the hallway, wearing a slightly nervous smile, was Angel. He held a small velvet box in one hand, tied off with a red ribbon. He looked exactly like she'd pictured him, and right now she didn't even care to ask him why he was late, or where he had been until now.
Before she could properly gather himself, he was standing there right in front of her. Buffy idly wondered if her Slayer strength included the ability to make her knees knock so hard that she shattered her own kneecaps. My God that was girly. I still remember how to be girly. Who knew?
"Take a walk with me?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she agreed, and they left the living area for the garden arm-in-arm, leaving behind them a rather deflated group of would-be partygoers, left behind in the wake of true love at its most blatantly showy.
"Anyone for jam?" Giles inquired.
"Er, Giles, actually there's something I have to tell you about that-" Willow began.

Later, Buffy could never remember much about the garden. Oh, she vaguely recalled that there had been a moonlit walk under impossible stars, and they had stopped by a fountain for a while (a fountain? had that even been there before?) and there had been talk, idle make-chat that they had grown so, so good at...and the kisses.
Oh, there had been kisses. And as she emerged from the latest, gasping for air and gasping generally, Buffy knew that things were going to change. She could feel it. It was a night for such things, and...and...and she'd forgotten something.
"Hey," she said, "my present. I forgot."
Angel had the decency to look sheepish. He fished the velvet box back out from the pocket in which it had resided. "Sorry. I got kinda..." he coughed, as they exchanged a knowing and not-altogether-embarrassed look.
Buffy unwrapped the ribbon and prised open the box, before extracting the contents, a small and rather beautiful object that held her spellbound for reasons she couldn't even fathom.
"What is it?"
"It's a Claddagh ring," Angel explained. "My people use them to express friendship and love."
He went on to explain the intracacies of the ring, and the code in which it should be worn. When he showed her his own version, Buffy couldn't help but notice something.
"Your heart belongs to someone...?"
He didn't look away. "It does. It belongs to you. You know it does," he went on, as she fought the absurd - and yet suddenly all-too-plausible - urge to swoon into the fountain at her back, "Buffy...I love you."
"I love you too," she said, relief and jubilation and so many other emotions pouring out with the words. They came together for a long, deep kiss after that...and then, after that (because mindblowingly good as that kiss was, there was plainly more kissage to be had) another...and another...
...and there was a bed, and there was Angel, and there she was too. Only later would she realise that the "bed" was actually composed of amazingly soft flowers. Right now, there was only the need, only him, and her mind had neither the time or the inclination to contemplate anything but the merest fraction of the desire burning through her body.
Afterward, they collapsed into one another, and sleep claimed her, the deep, contented sleep of the satiated lover.
She missed the thunderstorm.
She missed the lightning.
She missed Angel's awakening, Angel stumbling blindly around the garden, calling her name with increasing urgency and hoarseness, before finally falling to his knees and raising his face to the heavens.
She missed the light leaving his eyes, and laughter which followed it.
Unlike the previous events, however, she really would not have wanted to witness this, for reasons she, and the rest of the Big Brother house, were about to discover for themselves.

Spike was fuming, but what could he do? Nothing. That lot were as tight as ... hang on! that's it! Untied we stand, divided we fall!. OK, it would mean jumping forward to another series. Still, he might well get voted out as things stood. He could at least have a little fun pissing them all off.

And so it was, that Spike rejoined the party and set in motion a new policy. In truth, he had already begun. These last few days he'd caused Giles some embarrassment by humming The Glitter Band hit he'd overheard Giles singing. Others started to pick up on these catchy tunes. Buffy had acutely embarrassed when Angel caught her singing "Angel face, Angel face – I'm gonna make you my Angel face".

Drusilla: "Your smiling like the cat that caught the rabbit and you smell all eggsy."

Spike: "I'm gonna have some fun "

Cordelia was shocked to discover that she was improperly accessorized. On returning to the girls bedroom she found Willow moping.

Cordelia: "What are you doing?"

Willow: "Oh ... nothing"

Cordelia: "Why aren't you with Oz?"

Willow: "Oz?... oh ...he's talking wah wah peddles with Giles."

Cordelia: "WHAT-ever. This boy is interested in you. You're not wearing that cartoon cardigan, are you?"

Willow: "Xander thought it was cute..."

Cordelia: "Xander is HARDLY Versace. Trust me. Here, let me show you. Now,... this eye shadow I think. We'd better go natural, people aren't used to seeing you made up."

Willow: "But..."

Cordelia: "No buts!

Willow: "But... ouch!"

Spike strode purposefully out into the garden, to join in with Oz and Giles' conversation. Perhaps he could suggest to them that the girls wanted another one of the boys to go next week?

It was at this point that he skidded on some wet swimwear that had been left out to dry. He glided forward, as if on some invisible skateboard and then lurched head first into the trestle food table.

Spike managed to pull himself up off the ground. The table, however, was not built to take any great weight and collapsed in the middle, causing a sherry trifle to fly up...up...into the air...and fall down hard on his head. He fell unconscious...

His eyes opened. Five out of focus Drusilla's merged into one.

Dru: "Shuuuuuushhhhhh! Don't move, my love. Your bones are broken."

Dru: They're takin' my Chanticleer to a doctor."

Giles: "Chanticleer? a strutting rooster – how appropriate"

Oz: (thinks to himself, almost audibly)

Meanwhile, Cordelia and Xander fall about laughing and have to lean on each other for support, in the absence of oxygen.

Xander: "Did you notice how his hair went pink?"

Willow emerged from the house feeling pleased about her female bonding session with Cordelia and her new hair look. There seemed to be a big commotion going on.

Cordelia had a hand on Xander's shoulder in a most familiar way,...as if they were freinds. Xander was breaking their pact and consorting with the devil. In a moment, Willow knew who her next nomination would be: – Cordelia!

Oz: "Hi"

Willow: "Oh...Hi there!"

Oz: "Spike's just being taken to some kind of vampire hospital."

Wilow: "Oh?"

Oz: 'Wanna 'go swim'?"

DAY 6

All of the house mates, except Willow are still in bed. Spike has been seen by a doctor and will soon be told that he must be in a wheelchair until his broken legs heal, or the next Apocalypse, depending on his preference.

A sultry Romany voice issued out across the house.

"Housemates, this is Big Brother". A new housemate, Kendra will be joining you today from... (Where is she from?... Giles, do you work out? you're looking particularly well toned. No, it's all right. Don't cover yourself over. (Pause) That is all."

Giles: "Don't snigger Xander, you sound like an idiot"

Xander: "OK, Mr. Swarzennegger"
Willow has spent the past hour and a half tidying up after the party and feeding the chickens on cloud 9. Oz really does seem to like her. How could this be happening to her?

"Good morning chickens!"

Oz has joined Willow in the garden and taken up position on a sun-lounger. Big Brother has created an artificial climate to ensure that the housemates can be seen for the maximum number of hours with the minimum amount of clothing. In this warm sunshine it's all too easy to just... doze...off...

Willow cannot help but smile to herself. Turning her attention back to pruning the hedge she finds herself face to face with a strange girl, as still as a statue, head held high and arms folded.

Willow: "Oh...Oh... Who are – you?"

Kendra: "My name is Kendra. I am te be yur new house-mate. Who are you?"

Willow: "Hi. Willow. I'm like, the one who feeds the chickens. So, hey, are you Scottish?"

Kendra: "I am from..."

Big Brother: "...Housemates, This is Big Brother. We forgot to inform you that your new Housemate Kendra arrived 2 minutes ago. That is all."

(The other living house mates look around and find Kendra with Willow.)

Giles: "Hello Kendra, welcome"

Kendra: "I have he'rd aaall about you Mr. Giles"

Giles: "Really?"

Xandra: "Well hell-o!"

Kendra: (Hangs head, shyly)
"How do you do Sir?"

Kendra: "I am Kendra the vompire slayah"

Buffy (smugly): "Ah now there must be some mistake, you see...I,...I...am the Chosen One"

Xander: "She's the Buffster"

Kendra: "I have a mission to kill vampires"

Giles: "Ah, well Big Brother has put in some kind of magic, so that the vampires here can't harm us and we cannot harm them either"

Kendra: "You allow vampires into your house?"

Giles: "You can't sense them?"

Cordy: "PUR-lease. Do you think I would decorate my home like this?"

Buffy: "Besides, Angel's a sweetie"

Xander: "yeah, like a fisherman's friend".

Oz: "More like an orange chew"

(Everone looks at Oz wondering)

Kendra: "Why haven't you killed him?"

Willow: "Oh..Angel is Buffy's boyfriend. He wouldn't hurt a fly."

Kendra: "The slayer cannot have a boyfriend. Least of all – a vompire. He must die!

Buffy: "Noone's killing Angel"

Xander: "Not even just a tiny bit. Poison maybe?"

Buffy: "When you meet him you'll see. Angel's different. He has a soul"

Giles: "So Kendra, tell me all about yourself. Who is your watcher?" (They wander off)

---------

Buffy: "Do you think I'm the prettier slayer?"

Willow (with fingers crossed behind her back)
"Oh, definitely."