At first the buzzing of her alarm had Dawn wondering what it was doing going off so early on a Sunday morning, but then she remembered why she’d set it. She nearly jumped out of her bed, and went to look out her window. Mr. Giles’ car was still parked in the street in front of their house.
She got dressed quickly, and went downstairs to start getting breakfast ready.
Buffy might complain about Dawn’s talents in the kitchen, but she thought she was a pretty good cook. It wasn’t her fault that Buffy didn’t appreciate such delicacies as peanut butter and jalapeño quesadillas. But this morning she limited herself to preparing to make some boring omelettes, with things like chopped green peppers, onions, cheese, and bacon bits — at least for the omelette she was making for her mom and Mr. Giles. She knew that they should be getting up soon, because her mother had to open her gallery at 10, and Mr. Giles would need to open The Magic Box.
She turned on the coffee maker and stovetop, and started the kettle to boil water for tea as soon as she heard movement upstairs. The coffee and tea were ready when when her mom and Mr. Giles came down the stairs.
“Good morning!” she called out before Mr. Giles could escape out the front door. “Breakfast’s almost ready!” She poured some of her pre-beaten eggs into the hot skillet to start cooking.
Her mom and Mr. Giles appeared at the kitchen door, looking a little embarrassed. Dawn smiled brightly at them. “Did you have a good night?” she asked, as she put some slices of bread into the toaster.
Both of their blushes deepened. “Er— Ah— Yes,” said Mr. Giles. “It was very good.”
“Sleep well?” asked Dawn.
“Yes, we did,” said her mother, eying her suspiciously while pouring a cup of tea for Mr. Giles. “How about you? You’re up early.” She added a spoonful of sugar to it.
“Well, I wanted to make sure Mr. Giles didn’t get away before I had a chance to talk to him,” said Dawn.
Mr. Giles took the cup of tea from her mother gave it a sip, and nodded his appreciation. Dawn had used his favourite brand, and her mom had added just the right amount of sugar. “Really?”
“Uh-huh.” Dawn sprinkled some of her chopped ingredients over the cooking eggs, and folded the edges up to cover them. “I wanted you to know that I am totally cool with the idea of you and Mom being together. I think it’s great!”
“I am certainly glad to hear that,” said Mr. Giles.
The toast popped up, and Dawn quickly moved the two slices onto a couple of plates, gave them both a quick application of butter — before the toast cooled — so that it melted nicely into it. None of that vile English habit of letting the toast cool before buttering it was happening on her watch. She then divided up the omelette in the pan, put half onto each slice of toast, and presented them to her mother, and Mr. Giles. She put the skillet back on the stove, poured the rest of the eggs into it, to make her own omelette, and started more toast. “So, what now?” she asked. “Is this a one time thing, or are you going to be sticking around?”
“Are you asking me what my intentions are?” asked Mr. Giles.
“Yep,” said Dawn, adding her own ingredients to her omelette. In addition to the things she’d given her mother and Mr. Giles, she added some chopped up jalapeño peppers, and anchovies.
“Dawn!” said her mother — and not just about what she’d put in her omelette.
“No, it’s a fair question, and anything less than total honesty would be counterproductive, at this juncture,” said Mr. Giles. “I must admit that I have no fixed plans at this time. Your mother asking me to stay last night was completely unexpected, delighted as I was to accept. Where we go from here is something that we will have to give serious consideration. I certainly hope that this leads to a deepening relationship between us.”
Her mother nodded agreement. “I don’t think we should rush into anything, but I hope that we can build on this.”
Dawn finished making her own omelette, and and took it to sit at the kitchen island with the adults, along with a glass of orange juice. “Is Mr. Giles going to be moving in with us?” she asked. “’Cause his place is too small for us to move in there.”
Her mother sputtered on her coffee. “Dawn! It is much too soon to be wondering about things like that!”
“Precisely,” said Mr. Giles. “I think we should move ahead slowly. Maybe have a few proper dates, and such. It is much too soon to be thinking about changing living arrangements.”
They talked about other things while they finished their breakfasts. Mr. Giles helped with the cleanup, loading their dirty dishes into the dishwasher.
He checked his watch. “Well, I need to get home to change, before I go to the shop. It won’t do to go into work dressed like this.” He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday: a paint speckled t-shirt, and worn bluejeans. “Thank you for breakfast, Dawn.”
“You’re welcome.”
He made his way to the front door, and paused there with her mother. “And thank you, for a most pleasant evening,” he told her.
“You are very welcome.” Her mother leaned in and gave him a kiss goodbye.
“Perhaps we can do lunch, later,” said Mr. Giles. “Make a start at exploring where we want this new phase of our relationship to go.”
“I’d like that,” said her mother. “About one?”
“That should be fine,” said Mr. Giles. “I’ll meet you at your gallery, then.” He kissed her again, and left.
Her mother turned back to Dawn, and frowned at her. “And don’t you go trying to push us together. I know you like Mr. Giles, and so do I, but this new thing between us might not go anywhere. If we decide to call it off before it goes too much farther, I don’t want to hear any objections from you!”
“Alright,” said Dawn. “But wait until Buffy finds out about this!”
Faith had a month’s salary from her construction job that she’d hardly touched yet burning a hole in her wallet, and Buffy hadn’t gone shopping for clothes since before the Reward had started. They had come to L.A. with Xander and Anya to deliver the table and chairs he’d made to the Beverly Hills furniture store that Joyce’s friend owned. After they’d carried everything into the store, Xander told them to go shopping while he and Anya stayed behind to talk business with the store owner.
They didn’t just shop for clothes, and their detour through the sex shop had initially been more to look for ideas, than to buy anything. Buffy did find a few accessories that she thought would go well with Anya’s costume for Xander’s birthday present.
They also found that the store was selling what to them looked like really cheap, ugly, and flimsy St. Andrew’s crosses — made from bits of tubular steel welded together — for over two thousand dollars. They both knew that less than five hundred dollars of materials had gone into the construction of their crosses, so they made a note to tell Anya about another business opportunity for Xander’s designs. The market might not be very large, but if the store thought that it could charge two grand for crap, what would people be willing to pay for quality craftsmanship?
Buffy modelled a dress for Faith and Theresa the sales girl in the Panache Boutique. “What do you think?” she asked.
“It’s your basic ‘Little Black Dress,’” said Faith. “Can’t really go wrong with it, but it’s lacking … something.”
“Panache,” said Theresa, who was clearly looking forward to earning a large commission.
“You’re right,” said Buffy, stripping off the dress without bothering to go back into one of the changing rooms, and showing off some of the lingerie she’d bought at their previous stop: Frederick’s of Hollywood. Faith was dressed in a similar fashion.
Theresa came up with a full length backless gown in green silk, with a slit up the side that went all the way to the top of the hip, and another that went all the way down between the breasts to the navel. “How about this one?”
“Has potential, but Buffy’d have to take off that bustier she’s wearing,” said Faith.
Buffy grinned, turned her back to Theresa, and reached around to unzip the back of her bustier. She caught it as it fell away, handed it to Faith, and reached back for the dress. The slightly flustered sales girl put it into her hand, and Buffy quickly shimmied into it, before doing another pirouette for her audience. It clung to her skin almost as closely as some of the Reward creations.
“Very nice,” said Faith, “but with that clingy material, it would be better without any underwear.”
“True,” said Buffy, “so let’s put this in the ‘maybe’ pile, and find something that goes with the whole package. I want Xander to have fun unwrapping all the layers.” She took the dress off again, this time letting Theresa get a good look at her tits — she and Faith were really enjoying teasing her the way they were — before putting her bustier back on. “Now it’s Faith’s turn to try something.”
Buffy heard the sound of someone else entering the shop. She didn’t really pay much attention to it until one of the newcomers spoke, with a very distinctive voice. A voice that she had last heard four years ago. A voice that it shouldn’t be possible for her to be hearing now. The voice of a vampire that was dust.
“Hello!” called out Darla. “Customer wanting service here!”
Buffy’s head whipped around toward Faith’s, and their eyes locked. In that instant of contact their link flared, and Faith knew everything that Buffy knew about Darla: cunning, old, adaptable: she’d use modern weapons if she had them, but physically not much of a challenge. The only thing that had saved Darla from Buffy in their first encounter had been that Buffy hadn’t known then just how important Darla was, and that Buffy had let Luke sneak up behind her.
“Miss Edith wants to dance!” said a second voice, and the Slayers recognized this one too: Drusilla. Over a century old, a Seer, last reported in South America … and the killer of Kendra. They both wanted her dust.
“Dru’s mine,” flashed through their link from Buffy to Faith. “Darla’s all yours.”
The Reward light flashed, and Buffy felt the smooth wood of a stake in her hand — not just any stake, but the gnarled ancient wood of one particular stake: Mr. Pointy. The stake that Kendra had loaned to Buffy on one fateful night, a couple of years ago. The stake that Buffy had been saving for just this occasion.
They heard the store manager scream. Buffy made a “shushing” gesture at Theresa, and indicated that she should stay put. She and Faith both turned to the front of the store. They dashed as quickly as stealth and their stiletto heels allowed up the aisles between hanging dresses: Faith on the left, and Buffy on the right. They saw Darla holding the store manager by her hair, her fangs lowering down toward her neck.
Buffy stepped out into the open. “Hey!” she yelled. “No biting!”
Darla tossed the manager away. “Slayer!” she hissed.
Buffy moved between the vampires and the front entrance. “That’s me, and you are the Slayees.”
“You think you can take us both?” asked Darla.
“Well … yeah,” said Buffy. “But tonight I won’t even have to break a sweat.” She nodded toward Faith. “Once again, we have two Slayers — no waiting.”
Dru recognized the taunt, and lunged toward Buffy. Buffy had anticipated the move, and her stake was ready, plunging toward Drusilla’s heart, but the vampire twisted away at the last moment. The tip of the stake only ripped her dress, and scratched her skin. Dru hissed in anger.
Buffy and Dru slowly circled each other, looking for an opening. Dru thought she saw one, and charged. Buffy deflected Dru past her, and her stake stabbed toward’s Dru’s back. Dru pivoted away from the strike before Mr. Pointy could sink home.
Buffy struck again, but it seemed that Drusilla knew what she was going to do before she did it. Dru ducked under Buffy’s attack, and lashed out at her. Buffy spun, absorbing the impact, and her foot slashed out in a kick that caught Dru in the chest. A phone popped out of Drusilla’s cleavage, and clattered away across the floor. Neither of them paid it any mind.
They continued their dance of feints and attacks, without either of them landing any decisive blows. Drusilla lacked the skill to get through Buffy’s defence, but she always anticipated Buffy’s attacks in time to evade them. Buffy knew she needed to take a different tack with her. She lifted her sight to Drusilla’s eyes. Up to that moment she had avoided looking her in the eyes. She knew the power of Drusilla’s gaze. Their eyes locked together, and Dru smirked.
Drusilla stepped back, straightening her spine, still staring straight into Buffy’s eyes. “Be in me.” She lifted her hand and pointed two fingers at Buffy’s eyes. Her body swayed, and Buffy swayed with her. “Be in my eyes.” She drew her hand back pointing to her own eyes, further focusing Buffy’s attention there. Buffy was transfixed, unable to move beyond swaying in time with Drusilla. Dru stepped forward, lifted her hand, and pulled it back to slash at Buffy’s throat, just as she had done with Kendra.
Buffy’s hand sprang forward, plunging Mr. Pointy into Drusilla’s heart. She smirked at the stunned vampire in front of her. “Lothos, the Master, Dracula: I’ve been hypnotized by experts!”
She watched Drusilla dissolve into dust. “Amateur!”
The bowels of the Los Angeles offices of Wolfram and Hart echoed with the wailing of their Seers.
Buffy looked around and saw the dust settling from where Faith had staked Darla. Their eyes met, and they stepped toward each other. Each wrapped her arms around her sister Slayer. They paid no attention to the stunned looking store manager, or the swelling sounds of sirens as they kissed. When the police arrived they were still locked in each other’s embrace, and none of the cops really wanted to interrupt them. Whatever had triggered the alarm at this store probably had nothing to do with the two hot babes, dressed in nothing but sexy lingerie, kissing each other … and if it did, thank god for false alarms.
Another police car pulled up in front of the store, and a blonde detective got out followed by a dark haired man that she would only describe to her colleagues as a “useful informant.” He seemed even more stunned by the sight of the two women kissing than any of the cops who were clustered around them.
“Buffy? Faith?” he called out plaintively.
His voice seemed to break the spell, or whatever it was that had been blocking the rest of the world away from the two beautiful girls. They broke off their kiss.
“Angel?” asked the brunette.
The blonde shook her head, and seemed to notice her audience for the first time. She started to blush.
The detective waved the rest of the cops back, telling them to secure the perimeter until SID could get there. She also had them take away the two store employees, to take their statements.
The detective turned her attention back to Buffy and Faith. “What happened?”
Buffy recognized her. They had met briefly nearly a year ago, even though they had never exchanged names. She knew that this cop knew the score. “Two vampires chose the wrong store to go shopping in. Now they’re dust.”
“Y-y-you and Faith? Darla and D-d-drusilla?” stammered Angel.
“Yeah,” said Buffy, “And would you care to be all explainy about how come Darla was back? I saw her get all dusty before. Is there a chance that every vamp we’ve dusted can come back?”
“Wolfram and Hart,” said Angel, in a tone of voice that seemed to imply that it explained everything. “They brought Darla back with a Dark Ritual.” Buffy could hear the capital letters.
“Well, ‘those closest to her when she was dusted’ wasn’t it, this time, since they didn’t involve me. What was it?”
“A blood sacrifice,” said Angel. “Five living people, and five vampires who had all been sired by her. And that brought Darla back as a living, breathing, human being with a soul. Then they brought in Drusilla to kill, and turn her again. I tried to save her.”
“I’m sorry, Angel,” said Faith. “You can’t save everyone.” Implicit in the tone of her voice was that Angel had helped to save her.
They were interrupted the sound of a phone ringing. Everyone looked around to try to locate the source. Buffy spotted it, lying on the floor under a display rack. “Dru dropped that.” She crouched to pick it up.
“Just a minute!” said Detective Lockley.
“No time,” said Buffy, and called out in a voice that brooked no argument: “Everybody, quiet!”
Everyone nearby stopped what they were doing, and fell silent. Buffy opened the phone, and after giving it a quick look, found the button that put it into ‘speaker’ mode, to let everyone around her hear what was being said. She pitched her voice up an octave, and tried imitate an English accent, and Drusilla’s lilting cadence. “Hello. Miss Edith is having tea and wants me to take a message.”
“Drusilla, hello,” said a smooth sounding voice. “May I please speak with Darla?”
Buffy looked around. “Can anyone do Darla?” she mouthed at them, then she said back to the phone “Just a moment, she’s dancing with Death right now.”
Detective Lockley gestured for Buffy to hand her the phone. Buffy glanced at Angel to see if he thought that was a good idea. His eye lids flickered almost imperceptibly, in what she took for a nod, and handed the phone over to her.
“Hello, Holland,” said Lockley, trying to sound like Darla. Buffy honestly thought it was better than her impression of Drusilla. “We’re in the middle of something right now!”
“I hate to interrupt your little spree, but I’m glad you’re feeling like your old self again.”
“Splendid,” said Lockley. “Why did you call?”
“Oh, I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing, make sure you weren’t having any problems you couldn’t deal with.”
“Everything’s fine,” said Lockley.
There was a long pause. “Who is this?”
“Detective Kate Lockley, Mr. Manners. You can expect a call from Los Angeles Police Department detectives, to question you about your relationship with a couple of spree killers, since it is clear from this conversation that you know them both.” There was a click from the phone. “Hello? Are you still there? Huh? He hung up on me! Very rude!” She held the phone out toward a uniformed officer. “Bag this, and get it to SID. I want full records on all calls made to, and from this phone on my desk in the morning!”
After what seemed like an endless session answering the same questions, repeated over and over with minor variations in phrasing and sequence, Buffy and Faith returned to the back of the store to collect the clothes that they had left there, and the items that they had picked out to buy. They took them up to the checkout counter.
When the time came to actually pay for the clothes, the manager waved away their debit cards. “They’re on the house. And you can expect to receive a substantial discount, the next time you come shopping here.”
“Thank you,” said Faith, but she still held out her card. “You should at least charge us enough to cover Theresa’s commission, for what she sold us. She did a really good job.”
Angel was still waiting for them out front. “It was good to see you both,” he said. “Maybe you’d like to come back to the Hyperion with me; see Cordy and Wes, too?”
“I’d like to,” said Buffy, “But Xander and Anya are expecting us back at our hotel.”
“Strangely, I’d kinda like to see Xander too,” said Angel. “How about we meet up later, at a club? Round about ten o’clock?”
“What club?” asked Faith.
Angel reached for his wallet. “I think I’ve got a card for it here … yeah, here it is. It’s called ‘Caritas.’” He handed the card he’d pulled from his wallet to Buffy. “It’s kinda like neutral ground for the L.A. underlife, but a much higher class joint than Willie’s, back in Sunnydale. Even has anti-violence spells covering it, to keep the patrons from killing each other.”
“Then how do I beat up the owner to get information?” asked Buffy.
“He actually seems to be a good guy, even if he is a demon,” said Angel. “If you need some info from him, he’ll usually tell you if he knows it, without having to resort to pummelling. The worst he’ll do is make you sing for it.”
“We’ll have to check with Xander and Anya, but I expect we can meet you there,” said Faith. “We’ll call and let you know if we can’t.”
Buffy paused outside the door of their hotel room, and listened. She was entirely unsurprised to hear that Xander was giving Anya more orgasms. She grinned as she glanced at Faith, and saw that she had heard it too. She used her key-card to unlock the door, and eased it open. She and Faith passed through the door silently, and Buffy eased it shut behind them. They were in the short entry hall of their room, and still out of sight from the beds. It was obvious that Xander and Anya hadn’t heard them come in. They set their shopping bags down gently on the floor, stripped off their dresses so that they were both dressed just as they’d been when they had slain Darla and Drusilla, marched into the room, and came to attention at the foot of the bed on which Xander was fucking Anya. Buffy saluted. “Slayers Faith and Buffy reporting, Sir!”
Anya was on her knees on the bed, holding the footboard facing them, with Xander kneeling behind her. He had been pounding himself into her, hard, when Buffy and Faith had marched in, but he stopped for a moment, looking surprised before he returned Buffy’s salute. “Uh, Slayers, you seem to be out of uniform.” His hand went back down onto Anya’s hip, and he went back to slowly grinding himself into her.
“Sir!” said Buffy, shifting into her parade at-ease pose. “This is just how we were dressed when we slew Darla and Drusilla, so we thought it appropriate, Sir!”
Xander stopped again. “Darla and Drusilla? Wasn’t Darla dust already?”
“Sir! It seems that she was brought back…” Buffy continued her report, describing her fight with Drusilla with Faith adding in the details of how she’d staked Darla, while Xander went back to slowly screwing Anya in front of them. It seemed that Anya was looking forward to making even more money off the table and chairs than she had been anticipating — the furniture dealer was that happy with them. That had made her even hornier than usual, and she didn’t want Xander to stop just so he could hear about a couple of vamps who were already dust.
Buffy finished up by telling them that Angel had invited them all to meet him and the rest of Angel Investigations at a club later that night.
“When’s he expecting us?” asked Xander.
“About tenish,” said Buffy.
Xander glanced at the clock beside the bed. “Lot’s of time, then. You two deserve a special Reward for the Slaying you did tonight. Let’s see how many more orgasms we can give to your mistress before it’s time for us to go.”
Buffy and Faith both smiled at that. “Yes, My Lord,” they said together, and crawled up over the end of the bed.
Xander sat back, pulling Anya with him, so she came down straddling his lap, with his cock still in her pussy. Buffy and Faith moved in on her breasts, each sucking a nipple into her mouth. Their fingers converged on Anya’s clit, as she started to bounce up and down on Xander’s dick.
Buffy left Anya’s tits to Faith, and moved her mouth down to her mistress’s pussy, and Xander’s cock. She alternated between licking at Anya’s clit as Xander drove into her, and Xander’s cock, slick with Anya’s juices as he withdrew. It wasn’t long before Anya was coming again.
Xander rolled Anya off his cock, and down onto her back on the bed. Faith slipped off her panties and moved so she was straddling Anya’s face, so Anya could lick at her pussy. Buffy stayed on her knees between Anya’s legs, with her mouth on Anya’s snatch. Xander straddled Anya’s torso, and laid his cock down between her tits. Faith took hold of them, and pressed them together around his dick which was still slick from Anya’s cunt. Xander’s hands grasped Faith’s breasts, and he kissed her. He squeezed Faith’s breasts in time with the rocking of his hips, sliding his cock between Anya’s tits. It wasn’t long before he came again, and this time he let himself spurt semen up across Anya’s chest, and throat.
Xander pulled himself away from Anya. “Faith, clean up your mistress.” He turned around and sat on the bed beside her. “Buffy, come here and clean me off.”
“Yes, my Lord,” said Buffy and Faith, together. Faith bent down over Anya’s chest, and started licking Xander’s cum from her. Buffy crawled up to Xander, and dropped her mouth down onto his softening cock, to suck, and lick him clean.
Xander looked to the clock. “We don’t have a lot of time left, and the shower here isn’t big enough for all of us.” He rose from the bed, and reached out a hand to Anya, pulling her up after him. He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. He turned back to Buffy and Faith. “Buffy, get those panties off!”
“Yes, Sir!” Buffy stripped out of her new panties.
“Back to back, on your knees!” Xander ordered. They rushed to comply. “Alright, now I want you both to lean forward, while holding on to each other’s wrists, and you can’t let go till I tell you to.”
Buffy reached back to grab Faith’s wrists while she leaned forward, pressing her ass against Faith’s. The Reward light flashed, and she felt both her ass and her pussy being penetrated.
“Now, you can wiggle to your hearts’ content,” said Xander, “while Anya and I have our shower.” He left them there while he led Anya off to the bathroom.
Buffy’s link with Faith was fully open, so she knew that Faith’s pussy and ass were also full of the double pronged, double ended dildo. The butt plugs were anchoring their asses together, so they couldn’t pull apart if they’d wanted to, but the dildo slipped in and out of their pussies as they rocked forward and back. As it withdrew from Baith, it sank deeper into Fuffy, and vice versa. They rocked to and fro on the bed feeling the smooth plastic sliding inside them, channelling the feeling back and forth between themselves in a rising wave of arousal, building to an inevitable crest that crashed down in an intense shared orgasm.
But they were still linked. They still couldn’t let go. They still had their asses and pussies full, and they were still rocking — building up a new wave. They had both come multiple times when Xander and Anya returned from their shower, and he told them to stop and go have their own shower. “But no playing, this time,” he ordered. “We don’t have a lot of time left.”
Buffy and Faith rode in the back seat of the crew cab of Xander’s borrowed truck on the way to Caritas. Xander was getting so used to his new luck that he wasn’t the least bit surprised when a parking space, just the right size, opened up as they approached, only half a block from the club.
They all got out of the truck, and Xander gave his girls a good look over. They had planned to do some clubbing during their L.A. visit, so he and Anya had both packed some appropriate clothes, and the Reward had done its usual job on Faith and Buffy.
The Host sipped on his Sea-Breeze while looking over the night’s clientele. It was the usual mix of demons looking for a place to lie low for a while, and humans wanting to take a bit a walk on the wilder side of normal. The roiling tension that he had been feeling rising over the last few weeks seemed to have calmed a bit, but so far none of the real players in events to come had sung. The ones who had sung so far had revealed that they had mundane destinies: some leading to happiness and prosperity that he had smiled at and told to keep going the way that they were going, and others leading down darker paths, that he tried to divert: pointing them in directions that might lead them back onto a happier trail. No one who sang tonight had yet to reveal that they had any great destiny, for good or ill.
Angel and his friends had come in a while ago, and staked out a larger table than usual for themselves. They were expecting more people to join them. The miasma that had been settling around them seemed to have lifted. Instead of the lingering feeling of doom that usually permeated the air around Angel there was … nothing. There wasn’t any feeling of great destiny hovering over him any more. He felt just like any other patron who came into Caritas: someone whose destiny was in his own hands, and no longer a pawn for other Powers. He’d have to sing for the Host to get any clearer reading on him, but he didn’t seem inclined to do so, tonight. The Host was glad of that: he could do without hearing any more butchered Manilow.
That wasn’t to say that Angel was happy. The Host overheard some snatches of conversation between Angel and his friends. A couple of vampires had died earlier that night — and everyone was happy about that — but there was still a lot of regret in Angel. One of the dusted vamps was Darla, whom Angel had brought to him as a resurrected woman and the Host had thought that he’d set them on a path to save her, but that apparently hadn’t worked out. The other was a vampire of Angel’s own making, and he felt guilt about failing both of them. The Host could understand that. He had lots of his own regrets. He wasn’t able to help everyone who came to him.
His musing was cut short when a new group of people entered his club. The aura surrounding the man almost outshone the beauty of the three women who came in with him. He didn’t need anyone to sing to see the beauty of that destiny. The aura was so intense that he almost didn’t notice that two of the women had leashes attached to the gold collars around their necks, being held by the man and the third woman.
Buffy and Faith led Xander and Anya down the stairs into the club. They were both wearing their leashes, with Xander holding Buffy’s, and Anya holding Faith’s. They were dressed in matching silk dresses in emerald green and sapphire blue. Plunging V necks showed off their cleavage and the gold chains that dangled between the studs rooted to their nipples. Slashes in the silk opened and closed as they moved, showing flawless tanned skin. Their short slit skirts showed off their bare legs and the holsters strapped to their thighs, each of them carrying a stake and a knife.
A bouncer stepped in front of them, and glared. “No weapons allowed.”
Buffy and Faith just glared back at him.
“I think they’re keeping their weapons,” said Xander. “You won’t like what happens to you if you try to take them away.”
The bouncer shuffled his feet under their withering gaze until he nervously glanced away toward the bar. A green skinned demon with tiny red horns, holding a highball glass filled with something pinkish, and wearing a pastel coloured suit that looked like it belonged on a seventies lounge singer made a small gesture with his hand, and the bouncer stepped aside with a sigh of relief. Several of the demonic customers in the bar shifted in their seats, getting ready to make a break for an exit, if necessary, as Buffy and Faith surveyed the room, but the Slayers pretended to ignore them. They spotted Angel’s table.
Buffy was flushed with embarrassment, and excitement as she strode across the the room. She knew that everyone in the room was staring at her, on her leash, and that they could see flashes of her bare skin, her tits, and her ass, as she moved. Everyone would be able to tell that she wasn’t wearing anything under the dress.
She recognized Angel and Wesley at the table, with stunned expressions on their faces. A third man: tall, black, with a shaved head, and impressive physique was clearly enjoying the show Buffy and Faith were putting on. Cordelia’s expression vacillated between surprise, and amusement.
The amusement came out ahead. “I always thought that you two belonged on leashes,” she said when they reached the table. “But I never imagined it would be the Doofus holding the other end.”
“Maybe I should have tried putting one on you, when we were dating,” said Xander.
Cordy scoffed at that. “Please! You were the one who should have had the leash!”
Xander held a chair for Anya to sit in, and smiled at Cordy. “Maybe you should have.” He sat beside Anya, and Buffy and Faith sat flanking them. “Might have made things even more interesting.”
“Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” the man Buffy didn’t know asked Angel.
“Ah, yes,” said Angel. “Charles Gunn, these are Buffy, Xander, Anya, and Faith. Buffy and Faith are Slayers.”
“Is it normal for Slayers to wear leashes?”
“Ah, no,” said Wesley. “Those seem to be new. Why are you wearing leashes?”
“Buffy, would you care to explain it to them?” asked Xander. “You’ve had the most practice.”
Buffy launched into the story of how Gimmel had appeared in her room, to tell her that she and Xander had won a Reward, and of what that Reward entailed, and how Faith got dragged into it. She really was getting quite good at telling people about it. It seemed that practice really did make perfect. Like Giles, Wesley had heard of Gimmel, and had relegated him to the ‘too good to be true’ category. He was quite excited to learn that he was real.
Their waitress came by while Buffy was telling the tale, and Xander ordered a beer for himself, and wine for Anya, Buffy, and Faith. Once Buffy was done telling about the Reward, they caught up with each other about what had been happening in Sunnydale, and what Angel’s group had been doing in L.A. — including a more detailed account of how Darla had come back from the dead, and been vamped again.
Buffy pulled Mr. Pointy from its holster on her thigh. “I’ve been keeping this ever since Kendra died, hoping to get the chance to use it against Drusilla. Now, I think it’s time to give it a proper retirement.”
“What did you have in mind?” asked Angel.
“I thought maybe we could mount it in a nice shadow box, with a plaque,” said Buffy. “Something like ‘Kendra’s Mr. Pointy — The Stake that Ended Drusilla’, with the date. Maybe we could send it to Mr. Zabuto. I think it would make a nice memorial for her.”
“I think you’re right,” said Xander.
Multiple people — or some facsimile thereof — had gone up on stage to sing while they talked: none of them very well. Buffy started to think that she could do it better, and about what it would be like to be up there on the stage dancing and singing in her dress that showed nearly everything.
Each table came with a binder full of listings of the karaoke tracks available. Buffy started to peruse it. One of them caught her eye, and she opened her link with Faith, silently asking if she was familiar with the song. Faith was, and they planned out the choreography to go with their performance. When they were ready, she turned to Xander. “My Lord, may Faith and I sing for you?”
Xander’s eyes widened in surprise. “Ah, I think I’d like that very much. Do you need me to take off your leashes?”
“Only Faith’s,” said Buffy. “I’ll still wear mine, and she can hold it.”
When the waitress came by to take their next drink order, Buffy told her that they wanted to sing, and showed her the song they’d selected. The waitress arched her eyebrows in surprise. “I don’t think we’ve had anyone do that one, yet. I’ll let the Host know.”
A little later, after a demon with skin the colour of rancid butter, a ring of tentacles around its body instead of any sort of arms, and a voice that grated like fingernails on a chalkboard finished its rendition of Horse with no Name, the green demon went up to the microphone on the stage. “Well, let’s have a nice round of applause for Blarghgak the Ghitshison! I’ve never heard an America song performed quite that way before!” There was a smattering of applause, mostly from people who were glad it was over. “We have a couple of new performers for you all now! Let’s have a nice round of applause for the Slayers! Buffy and Faith!” He started off the applause himself, and was soon joined by the audience. Some of the demons looked a bit nervous, as if they were afraid of what might happen to them if they didn’t applaud.
Faith’s leash flashed into non-existence as she got up, and Xander handed the end of Buffy’s leash over to her. She led Buffy up onto the stage, and stood in front of the microphone stand, with Buffy standing off to the side, as far as the leash would let her. The Host adjusted the microphone height, to bring it down to her level, and left the stage to them. The music to Madonna’s Hanky Panky started to play.
Faith tugged on the leash. “Come over here!”
Buffy was dragged across the stage to the microphone, and began to sing, and dance:
Some girls, they like candy,
And others, they like to grind,
I’ll settle for the back of your hand
Somewhere on my behind.
Faith’s hand smacked down hard on Buffy’s ass.
Treat me like I’m a bad girl,
Even when I’m being good to you,
I don’t want you to thank me,
You can just spank me.
Faith spanked her again.
Some guys like to sweet talk,
And others, they like to tease,
Tie my hands behind my back
And, oh, I’m in ecstasy.
Faith pulled Buffy’s hands back, and wrapped the leash around her wrists.
Don’t slobber me with kisses,
Buffy and Faith exchanged a quick peck.
I can get that from my sisters.
Before I get too cranky,
You better
They started to sing the chorus together:
Like hanky panky,
Nothing like a good spanky.
Faith smacked Buffy’s ass.
Don’t take out your handkerchiefs,
I don’t wanna cry,
I just wanna hanky panky.
Like hanky panky,
Nothing like a good spanky.
This time, Buffy spanked Faith.
Don’t take out your handkerchiefs,
I don’t wanna cry,
I just wanna hanky panky guy.
Faith took over singing the second verse, as they danced together on the stage, with everyone looking at them. Their link was fully open, so Buffy was feeling everything from Faith as they performed. They were very much aware of how the slits in their dresses kept opening and closing as they moved, giving everyone in the audience peeks at what lay beneath, but there were only two members of the audience who were getting the full show. Most of the people out there were only getting hints of what lay beneath her and Faith’s dresses, but they never really saw anything that couldn’t be shown on a network TV show. There was always something that prevented them from seeing an exposed nipple, or a flash of pussy. A trick of the light, or a dance move from her or Faith that covered the other at just the right time to block everyone’s view — everyone but Xander’s and Anya’s, that was. They always had just the right angle to see what everyone else was missing.
Please don’t call a doctor,
’Cause there’s nothing wrong with me,
I just like things a little rough
And you better not disagree.
’Cause I don’t like a big softie,
I like someone mean and bossy,
Let me speak to you frankly,
You better
When the chorus came again Buffy spun around, so that when she bent over everyone could see her bare ass as Faith spanked her. And Faith did the same when her turn to get spanked came.
Then it was Buffy’s turn to sing the third verse:
Oh, yeah.
What about Dick Tracy?
Dick, that’s an interesting name.
My bottom hurts just thinking about it.
Treat me like I’m a bad girl,
Buffy leaned over to get more spanks from Faith.
Even when I’m being good to you.
I don’t want you to thank me,
You better
They launched into the chorus again, singing, dancing, and spanking one another with enthusiasm, before finishing off the final verse together:
Oh, yeah.
You get the picture?
That’s the way I came into this world,
The doctor said, “Lady, she’s a beautiful girl.”
He gave me a spanky and the doctor smiled,
So give it up, honey, ’cause I want it.
Yeah.
The music ended, and they took a bow together. This time the applause was uniformly enthusiastic. They took another bow, and pranced down off the stage together. Buffy was flushed with excitement. She wanted Xander to have her right there on the table in front of everyone, but of course he’d never do that, so she had to settle for plastering herself against him when he stood to greet her, in a full body kiss while Faith was doing the same with Anya. His hand did slip through the slit in her skirt to hold her bare ass.
The Host was feeling stunned. He had never felt anything like that before, nor did he expect to ever experience its like again … unless the man who had come in with the Slayers decided to sing. He wasn’t sure if he’d survive that, but what a way to go!
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