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Meet the Rollers of the Femmes Fatales:



Anya Jenkins: Bunny Stomp

Willow Rosenburg: Red Dread

Tara Maclay: Wicked Witch

Dawn Summers: Screech

Cordelia Chase: Mean Queen

Winnifred Burkle: The Tech

Faith Lehane: Envy



And Buffy Summers: Slayer (Jammer)



Meet the Rollers of the Ungentlemen’s:



Xander Harris: The Jester

Angel O’Connor: Brood

Connor O’Connor: Spawn

Wesley Price: Watcher

Lorne: Lullaby

Robin Wood: Stake



And William Pratt: Spike (Jammer)







The Femmes Fatales were going out to celebrate their latest victory against the visiting team, “The Uber Tramps”, not so classy name – not so great players. The game had gotten their blood pumping though and they had all decided a milkshake from Soda Pop’s was a necessity, to be put on the tab of the Magic Box’ of course.



The girls brought in so much money for Rupert ‘Ripper’ Giles that he pretty much let them put tabs up wherever they wanted – be it for clothes or food or movies or bills (which especially applied to the Summers sisters since their mother had passed away two years ago, when Buffy was a fresh nineteen, and leaving a very young woman in charge of a sixteen year old troublemaker). He paid them as well of course, but on strict salaries, and when one of them really went overboard on a tab he made them work it off at his gym. He loved them all, and they all knew it and loved him back.



The girls walked through the double doors to Soda Pops and into the sound of cheers. Buffy smiled and thanked people as she walked to the jukebox and Andrew and Jonathon – the owners – began fixing them all chocolate shakes. Just like she did following every victory Buffy chose the Ramones Bliztgrieg Bop from the machine and pressed play, there wasn’t one person who didn’t start singing along, the place coming alive with local pride and erupting when the girls gathered in front of the counter to do their trademark “We just kicked some serious ass” dance.



An hour later the place had quieted down but was no less packed and Buffy Summers was currently trying to discourage the advances of a seemingly relentless Parker Abrams.



“Come on Summers, one dance.” he begged, shit brown eyes trying their best to appear puppy-like.



“Get a grip Abrams, I’m not pathetic enough to give you a go.” she snapped at him, wanting him gone. Last summer, before her and the squad had soared to success she had gone on one date with him, kissed him on the cheek and went home. The next day rumors were flying about how she had put out but was too clingy for his taste.



“Come on Buffy, give me one more chance.”



“I said no Parker, you had your chance, and you ruined it before you spread the rumors about jamming me with your small pecker so beat it.”



Being in a corner booth in an ‘L’ shaped diner certainly had its advantages but the situation unfolding now was definitely not one of them.



His hand came down in a heavy swinging motion, one that certainly would have left a mark had it reached her face, but a ring littered hand grabbed it before it connected.



“I think the lady was telling you to fuck off mate.” came the sexiest, British voice she had ever heard.



All seven sets of eyes were on the stranger now, all open in appreciation for what the stranger had stopped and the hotness that was him.



Parker wrenched his arm free and glared at the man in front of him. “We don’t like your kind in here.”



The stranger smirked and lifted an eyebrow, “My kind? The kind of man that doesn’t hit a woman you mean.”

Parker sneered, “The kind that wears woman’s rings , faggot”.



Buffy felt bad for him, Parker, almost…not really, the brunette obviously didn’t see it coming but the fist that smashed into his mouth knocked him flat on his ass.



In a swirl of leather the stranger was kneeling next to the bleeding boy, with his hand held up.



“This ring” he said, pointing to his index finger and the skull ring that adorned it, “Was given to me by Billy Idol in London two years ago, it’s not a woman’s accessory poofter. And this”, now he was pointing at Buffy without even looking at her, “is a lady and it would be in your best interest to treat her like one.”



And then he walked to the counter, grabbed his bag of take out, and left.



Still shocked but not about to let the opportunity to thank the man slip away Buffy followed him into the parking lot, where he was with 6 other guys.



“Hey” Buffy called out and all eyes turned to her. She smiled at the group, “Sorry, I was talking to Billy” she said with a friendly wink.



‘Billy’ lit a smoke and leaned against what she assumed was his motorcycle. “S’thing I can help you with kitten?” he asked, a tone of disinterest in his voice that she suspected was practiced but his sparkling eyes contradicted his words.



“Actually, I just wanted to thank you for helping me in there, no more help needed.”



“My pleasure.”



This statement had piqued the interest of the other males though and she swore she could sense a unified rush of energy go through them all.



Spike looked at his friends, “S’been taken care of mates, no worries.” The other guys seemed to hear something between his words that Buffy didn’t because the next moment had the guys nodding their good-bye’s to her before walking across the lot to their cars.



“That your gang?” she teased.



“No, they’re my back-up dancers.”



He chuckled and she giggled, and they both fell a little bit in love with the sounds.



“Seriously though, thank you, he was really starting to piss me off.”



“It’s my pleasure really, why someone would want to mark a face like yours is beyond me though.”

“I told him that he had a small dick, or so the rumors go.”



“Not a good enough reason to hit a girl but pretty high up on the ‘how to bruise a boy’s ego’ list.”



“He deserved it” she found herself defending.



“I don’t doubt that for a second Rapunzel” he answered in a voice that could melt ice cubes and tucked a strand of her long blond hair behind her ear.



She took a moment to look at him. He was average height but something about him screamed imposing and demanded respect. His hair was Billy Idol blond, she gathered that with the story behind his ring and his looks he was a fan, and his eyes were almost too blue, like you could fall into them and drown. His cheekbones were spectacular and the scar marring his eyebrow seemed fitting almost. His body – well, the black leather duster, tight black jeans and snug fitting wife beater did nothing to hide how well sculpted he was.



She was something else he thought to himself. Slender, petite, toned and golden brown she was something out of a fairytale. Her long blond hair shone even in the dark parking lot and her bright green eyes were an enchanted forest. He would believe in unicorns if she told him they were real right now – which she thankfully did not. Her small red shorts hugged her hips and thighs and her white tank top almost glowed in comparison to her skin.



“So, you have a name?” she asked, breaking the small moment of silence.



“Are we at the name stage of our relationship already?”, a small smile on his lips.



She shook her head and laughed, holding out her hand, “Elizabeth Summers.”



“William Pratt” he answered, “but my friends call me Spike.”



Something was niggling in the back of Buffy’s mind but she couldn’t place it.



“Oh, so now we’re at the nickname phase of our relationship? In that case you can call me Buffy.”



He stopped shaking her hand but didn’t let it go. “Buffy Summers?”



“The one and only”



He broke their small contact and sighed, “Leader of the Femmes Fatales?”



She smiled, “Wow, I must be getting famous” she joked. “So, I know you’re not from around here, what brings you and your friends to Sunny D?”

“You.”


Chapter End Notes:
Soooo lol?




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