Chapter 1:
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Buffy Summers sat in the coffee shop, preoccupied with her copy of "Red Rabbit". A bit too preoccupied. If she were someone normal, it might have looked a little strange, especially considering her book was upside down. But no one ever noticed her.
That's what made her so good at this job.
Because, you know, Buffy Summers wasn't your average girl in a coffee shop. She was an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. And a damn good one, too.
She watched the perp through the tiny screen in her book, and a voice penetrated her ear.
"Buffy. Do you have a clear view?"
Riley Finn, her boss. And also the most boring person imaginable.
"Right down the major ass-crack, sir," she muttered into the tiny microphone.
"Good job being ladylike, Summers," drawled a cocky, British voice in her ear.
"Go back to Merry Ole, Spike," she hissed.
"Shut up," came Riley's voice. "We're on an op. Buffy, have you seen the package yet?"
"Saw one, turned out to just be food they brought for themselves. Cheap idiots." She remembered how frustrating that was when she was a waitress in a sleezy diner in LA.
"But not the drugs?"
"No sir. Not yet." She repositioned her camera.
"Matthews!" barked Finn at Spike. "What's your status?"
"Same as last time....sir," he added grudgingly. Xander laughed and leaned against the wall, surveying the scene before him. There were about 15 officers and agents all armed and ready to attack. He hated this. He liked sitting at a desk, surrounded by paperwork instead of being in the face of danger.
Matthews, however felt different. Completely so. He lived for this....the danger, the anticipation......and the violence. That was always a plus.
"Bloody hell, anything yet, Summers?" he growled into her earpiece, growing impatient.
"Calm down, Sparky. I think I might be getting something. His damn back's in the way, though!" Buffy squirmed around, trying to adjust the camera so that she could get a better view.
"Summers, cough or something!! Make them bloody move!" Spike ordered in her ear.
Buffy let out a hacking cough. The big Russian man turned around and looked at her. She waved her hand in an apology and re-adjusted the camera. She watched happily as Man #1 gave Man #2 a bag of very illegal drugs.
"The eagle's landed." She hissed.
"Let's go!" Xander shouted, pounding against the walls of the van. Agents poured out from nowhere, and entered the coffee shop. Guns drawn, they surrounded the men. Buffy revealed her badge to the frightened customers and ushered Riley in. He clamped cuffs down onto Man #1's wrists.
"You're under arrest for....." he trailed off as Man #2 appeared to begin choking.
Buffy said, "I got this." She walked over to the man, and looked ready to perform the Hiemleich Maneuver.
"Don't be daft. He's obviously faking it," Spike said as he looked at the man who's face was beginning to turn red.....then purple...
"He doesn't look like he's faking," she stated as she threw down her badge and gun to help the man.
"Buffy! No, don't!" Riley shouted at her from behind his culprit.
"Riley, we can't just let him choke to death! That would be letting him off easy."
"Agent Summers! I order you not to go near that man!" Riley yelled. She wouldn't go against orders....
And yet, she did. Completely ignoring her boss and co-worker's warnings, Buffy reached her small arms around the man's waist and dug her fists deep into his diaphragm, with a strength that seemed impossible for a woman to possess. Buffy did not possess enough strength to stop the man from wrapping his arms around her, and taking out a switchblade and holding it to her neck.
"Shit!" Spike yelled, before calling for more backup.
"No, that's not necessary." Riley said, walking to Spike's side as a group of agents slowly weaned Buffy out of the Russian man's arms, through the threat of shooting both of them down.
"Thanks bunches. It's illegal to shoot someone without reason, you know." Buffy grumbled to Scott Hope, a random officer, as he slowly pulled her out of the scene.
"Hey, you were the one who went against orders." He said before returning to cuff Stupid Russian #1 and bore him with the 'you have the right...' speech.
Buffy sighed and went to run her fingers through her hair, but, as usual, they got stuck between the knots. Frowning, she opted for running the tips of her fingers over her hair. God knows how long it had been since she'd brushed her hair.
She walked sheepishly over to Riley, who was congratulating Spike on his "incredible discipline." 'Gag me.'
"Buffy," he said shortly, looking her up and down.
"Look, sir..."
"We'll discuss this further tomorrow.Trust me Agent. We will. But until then, just go home. We all need the rest." With that said, Riley stalked off.
Buffy crossed her arms and pouted. She stalked her way over to Spike, who arched an eyebrow.
"Told you he was faking,"he said, simply.
"Yes, thank you," Buffy said with mock sincerity.
"You need to learn to follow commands from Finn. It's part of your job, mate."
Buffy always noticed that he called her "mate." Not "luv" or "pet" like he did the other female agents. Just "mate." Not that it bothered her, or anything. It was just an observation.
"I usually do follow orders," she countered.
"Yeah, but apparently, not when the shit goes down. Like in there," he jerked his thumb towards the coffee shop, which was now surrounded by official yellow police lines.
"It was one time, Spike," she said, feeling exasperated already.
"One time is all it takes. By the way, you look like hell." Spike sauntered off, leaving Buffy behind. She glared at his retreating, bleach-blonde head.
God, she hated him...
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Chapter 2:
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Maybe this would be easier if you knew what Buffy Summers looked like. She wasn't that bad....not like how all the people at work made her out to be.
Her eybrows...all right, once someone, who hadn't known she was there, said she mowed them, not waxed them. That was a lie. Besides, she had eyebrows like Brooke Shields. And no one called Brooke Shields' eyebrows gorgeous.
Her lips were practically just lines on her face.
She had more facial hair than most women, but not a lot. Just a little hair above the lip and tiny, feminine sideburns. Not shaped...just fuzzy and.....there.
She didn't know her real hair texture. She hadn't brushed her hair in about 6 months. She either wore it up in a pony tail or down.
She didn't care about looks at all. There were so many other important things in life, than seducing co-workers. Like she wanted to be Spike Matthews latest one-nighter. Puh-lease. She laughed at the very thought of becoming involved with Spike.
Ha. Ha.
***
*ring ring*
*ring ring*
Buffy woke up to the sound of her cell phone ringing.
"What?" she sighed into the phone. Shooting up in bed when she recognized her boss's voice, she said, "What can I do for you, sir? Uh-huh. Yes. Oh my god. You're kidding. Yes sir, I'm on it. I know it's hot. Bye." She clicked the small red phone button that ended the call and jumped out of bed, smiling to herself as she remembered that she had been smart enough to wear her suit to bed so that she wouldn't have to change in the morning. She shook herself out of her self praise...she had a mission.
She rushed out of her apartment complex, waving to Richard, her landlord, before walking to her Buick and placing the portable siren ontop of it. She sped down the street towards her destination
***
Buffy pushed her way through the hoards of people.
"Hey!" protested one brown haired man as she shoved past him.
She held up her badge to him, and barked, "Police business, sir. Back off." The man raised his hands and did as she said as if he were a criminal.
Buffy approached the counter, and eyed the person warily.
"Alright." She said determinedly. Emphasizing every word, she then said, "This is how it goes..." Buffy looked down, thinking for a moment, before her head shot back up again, and she rattled off in a spitfire: "Three tall regulars, black, hint of sugar, Two blue berry muffins, one with the top blue berries picked out, five Grande lattes, one with a shot of vanilla, two with sugar on the bottom..." The crowd surrounding her groaned and yelled. She shot them a look before turning back to the Starbucks employee, "One Grande cappuccino, shot of caramel...No! Wait!" Buffy felt half the people behind her leave, some who stopped to yell about government control.
***
"Buffy, you are a GODDESS!" said Xander as he took his latte and muffin. "And ya know what? I'll even pretend that all of this isn't because of how stupid you were last night."
"Well, I couldn't go one day without not following orders," she sighed. "God, something's wrong with me."
"I coulda told you that, mate," came Spike's snarky voice from behind her. She turned and he took his
black coffee. "Thanks." He pointed to her pen and her blank notebook. "Can I use those?"
"Whatever."
"Thanks."
Xander suddenly tensed, and patted her on the back. "Nice knowing you, Summers," he said, then scurried off.
"AGENT SUMMERS!" Buffy cringed as she saw the hulking form of Riley Finn approaching her.
Turning to Spike, she begged, "Shoot me now. Take my gun, and shoot me now."
Grinning, Spike replied, "It's no fun if you as for it."
She sighed, and he patted her back the same way Xander did. Only when he walked off, he ran right into Finn.
"Matthews."
"Finn."
Buffy didn't know what problems they had with each other. Every word that was spoken between the two men had an air of hostility in it. Buffy smiled a bit when she heard Spike mutter, "Captain Cardboard," as he stalked away.
"Summers," Riley said as he faced the nervously shifting agent.
"Sir, before you say anything, I know that last night, I was completely out of line, and--"
"Damn right you were out of line. You disobeyed orders....DELIBERATELY. I don't know what corporations you worked with in the past, but that is NOT how we do things here."
"I know that sir, but---"
"No buts. You are officially on probation."
Probation?! For one mistake?! That wasn't fair....at least she thought it wasn't.....maybe it was.....
"What probation, exactly sir?"
"In simple terms, you will be burying yourself in paper work. Two more mess ups, and your'e gone Summers. But I hardly think that even you can fuck up paperwork."
"Yes sir," she whispered as tears welled in her eyes when what he'd said absorbed. I will not cry...I will *not* cry. Nothing can make this day any worse...
"Attention!! Emergency meeting everyone! We have just gotten news from D.C., there's been another citizen letter!"
Fuck. Except maybe that......
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Chapter 3:
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"Alright, Agents. Here it is," Riley said as he laid the letter down on the table. The letter consisted of random sentences, all typed out neatly. The letter made no sense, but warned the officers that something was going to be blown up.
"We had the best of the best, a crack team, working on this. But now, the bastards are stumped. So we're going to have to assemble the perfect team. So, Matthews." Spike's head snapped up from his comically drawn portrait of Riley.
"Yes, sir?" He winced at his voice crack, and hoped no one noticed. But judging by the laugh that Summers appeared to be stifling, they had.
"I'm placing you in charge of this op. Assemble a group of the best, and start immediately. Meeting's done. Go back to work." He waved them off, and Spike jumped out of his chair to run to his boss.
"But, sir!! I mean, why......"
"You've wanted an op forever, and now you've earned one." Riley slapped Spike on the back, harder than a normal, friendly slap. Truth was, Spike knew that Riley wanted him gone. And Riley knew Spike knew. And Spike knew Riley knew Spike knew. And so on, and so forth....but that didn't stop them from respecting each other in the office, and it didn't keep Riley from treating Spike fairly. Spike was good. Riley knew that, and so did Spike. That was Matthews' largest downfall.....his cockiness.
"Good luck," Riley said. Under his breath, he mumbled, "You're gonna need it."
"Hate him," Spike declared as Riley walked away.
"Why? He just put you in charge of an op. I'd kill for that," Buffy said, with a look of longing clear on her face.
"Yeah? Well, you shot all your chances at getting one last night," Spike sneered. "Listen, Summers. Just because the bastard gives me a job, doesn't mean I have to like him, now does it?"
"No one likes Riley," Xander chimed in. "I mean, he looks like the Hulk, has a puppy named 'Dog' and listens to Barry Manilow."
Buffy smiled at this, but it instantly disappeared. "Ugh," she groaned. "Back to the hell-hole. Paper-work. Joy." She walked away from her colleagues, and sat down at her desk. She sat down at her desk and took out some case files. However, the citizen letter, sitting on her desk was taunting her. Looking back and forth to check for Riley, she grabbed it and read it over again. And again. And again.
"Dammit..." she growled as frustration overwhelmed her. She needed out of here.
She needed to clear her head, if she wanted to even begin to slightly understand this.
***
"Gimmee a pint, Ike," Buffy said, smacking her hand on the counter. Ike looked up at the clock.
"At 2:30? Are you sure?"
"Positive." Sighing, Ike reached under the counter and extracted a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough. She pulled out two little chunks of cookie dough, and began playing with them. "Oh! I love you! No, I love you! Mwah, mwah!" she said, as she banged the two small clumps together and pretended they were kissing. "Gasp! What's heading for us?! Oh, no! It's a giant mouth!" She popped the two cookie dough pieces into her mouth and laughed. "Bwahaha. I am pure evil!" She froze when she heard a throat being cleared behind her. Turning around, she waved sheepishly at Spike, who responded with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you on drugs?"
"Ha. If you call stress a drug, then yes."
"Guiness, please," Spike said to Ike. Looking over his shoulder at a bubbling, blonde sex-pot, he asked, "Now what do you want to drink, luv?"
"White wine spritzer, please."
Turning back to Ike, Spike said, "You heard the lady. Summers, this is Harmony. She's an intern, and very interested in women in the FBI, which is what you are.....technically." Buffy glared at him in response, then stuck her hand out to Harmony, who promptly ignored her.
“Wow...so, is this, like, where most of the agents hangout during their down time?” she asked, her bubble gum voice getting on Buffy's last nerve.
"Yeah, a lot of us do.....'cept the ones who think they're too good for us. Case in fact, Finn."
“So.” Harmony said tersely, “You’re, like, a woman agent. Is that your uniform?” Buffy looked down at her crumpled suit and shrugged.
"Not a uniform......but we have a dress code."
"Right. So is a part of the dress code to wear masculine shoes?" Harmony asked innocently. Spike snickered slightly, hiding it through a forced cough. Buffy rolled her eyes, and looked down at her shoes.
"Actually......these are made by the same guy who put the tattoo on my butt," Buffy said, her voice full of malice.
“Ri-ight,” Harmony said, losing interest in the female agent. “Spikey here has been so nice showing me around....tonight we’re going to dinner to discuss my future career goals!” Harmony said, feeling proud of herself. “He like, totally takes me seriously!”
“I bet he does....” Buffy said with a lingering look at Spike, who gave her a ‘What?’ face. “I’m sure I’ll see you....somewhere in the future. And I’ll see you tomorrow,” she added, looking at Spike, who gave her a small wave. She walked out of the bar and into the sunlight. She had to get back to work. 'Back to my *paper* work' she thought with an inward moan. ' Poop.'
* * *
The next day, Buffy raced into the office, searching for Spike. When she found him, she ran over and stopped him. “Spike!”
“What?”
“I figured it out! I tried to create a content-based pattern that was similar to his previous letters...”
“Summers--”
“—but this time, he used a signifier! In this case, the word “miss” in the—in the subsequent letter--”
“Summers, it’s the Miss United States--”
“Will you let me finish?! Look, it’s the Miss United States Pageant!”
“Yeah,” Spike said sarcastically. “Intelligence thought so, too.”
He walked off, leaving Buffy in the hallway. “What?”
* * *
Inside the meeting room
“Alright. What do we got?” Spike asked as he rubbed his hand together.
Xander held up a flyer, and said through his fried rice, “Miss United States from San Antionio, Texas, home of the Alamo.” He looked up briefly, and said, “I forgot the Alamo. My apologies to Davy Crocket or whoever.” Getting back on track, he said, “The pageant lasts three days. You got preliminaries, conferences, the telecast, which goes out live. It’s a logistical nightmare. Not just a babe-fest.”
Rubbing his hand over his face, Spike sat down, saying, “Bloody Hell. We’ve only got 48 hours. Okay, mates. Where do we start?”
There was a series of confused ‘um’s’ and uh’s’ as the agents looked around, confused.
Speaking up from the corner she had busied herself in by flipping through a magazine of past contestants, Buffy said, “Well, you might want to call the network and pageant people. Set up a meeting.” When everyone looked at her, she elaborated, “Because you’ll probably need their cooperation.”
“Yeah,” Spike agreed. “Yeah, I can do that. Let’s do that.”
“What about jurisdiction?” asked another Agent, Graham.
“Nuh uh. The Citizen has been ours from the start, so that wouldn’t be a problem,” Buffy interrupted. “But what you might want to do, is to call up the San Antonio office. Y’know, grease some wheels so they like us and don’t feel like we’re takin’ over their terf, y’know, when we need manpower and techs.”
“And while we’re at it, let’s do that,” Spike said, wanting some of the lime light.
“Good idea,” Xander congratulated Buffy.
She continued, “And this Citizen nut, loves to make a splash, so his target will probably be public, like one of those outdoor prelims or a TV broadcast.”
Xander nodded in agreement, “Telecasters at the convention center. That means we’re gonna need....all kinds of surveillance on the interior perimeter.”
Buffy shook her head. “No, we’re gonna need a lot more than that. There’s a million places only these bikini stuffers can go: backstage areas, hotel rooms....I think we need to get somebody in there.”
Spike nodded, standing up. “Good idea, Summers. An undercover agent.” A smirk settled over his features. “And I know just the girl...”
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Chapter 4:
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Spike typed in a few words into the FBI database and sat back in his swirl chair, allowing the men around him to gaze at the leggy brunette on the screen.
"Mother fucker," Xander said. Turning to Spike, he said, "She works here?"
Spike nodded. Oz scooted over, and said, "That's nothing. Check this out." Going over to the other computer, he loaded up a web site. "Courtesy of my neice. Dress up Barbie."
They clicked on the bikini button, and immediately, the FBI agent was clad in a skimpy bikini. All the guys whistled, and Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Uh, you got a little problem."
"What are you bloody talking about? She's perfect!"
Gesturing with her magazine, she said, "Look to the left...down...down...down...there ya go."
"'On maternity leave'? Shit," Spike swore. "That's not gonna work..."
"Hmm. Not unless it's the Miss Lamaze Pageant." Buffy laughed and gave an un-feminine type snort at her joke. "Get it? Lamaze pageant? Because she's..." Noticing she was getting strange looks, she cleared her throat, embarrassed. "Yeah."
Shaking his head, Spike turned back to Oz. "Can you do a search for women under the age of 28?"
Oz typed in the proper information, and they looked at who was available.
"Let's see..." Spike said as he surveyed the page. "Summers...yeah, right.....Jenson......maybe......Eisenhart......why not?....and....Johnson....hmm."
They loaded the information for Jenson, and they all grimaced as the overweight woman's image was automatically put into a bikini. "Let's check out Eisenhart, shall we?"
Oz loaded the image of the field agent onto the screen. "She looks like the best we've got.....oh wait. Shit. Maternity leave."
They looked up Johnson, and were only slightly impressed with what they saw. "Well, she's not gorgeous, but she'll do."
Spike stole the mouse from Oz, and clicked on Buffy's name. "Just for fun...."
"What are you, kidding? It's Summers!"
"Oh, come on, cut it off!" Buffy said, turning away from the screen. "Let's go back to work...."
They all stared at the screen, Spike especially eager. 'Oh, this is gonna be good.....
But as the image of Buffy in a bikini loaded, all men went slack-jawed.
Spike stared at the screen, astounded at how amazing she looked. It would be an understatement to say he was taken aback when he saw Summers in a bathing suit. Her legs were long, trim, and naturally tanned, her waist thin and slender. Her breasts, well...he couldn’t even begin to comment on those. Besides, it was still Summers they were looking at. He had a certain standard to uphold. But those legs...
"Alright, very funny," Buffy said, getting embarrassed.
"No, hold on a second...that's not half bad...." Spike said.
"Hold on nothing. Hit the save button because you won't ever be seeing that again."
***
Gym
Buffy pounded Tommy Torso (a rubber statue of the top half of a man's body) and took out all of her frustration on it.
Spike walked up to her, and stood behind the punching tool. Holding it, he asked, "What do you say, Summers?"
"No fucking way."
"Oh, come on, Buffy. Why not?"
"Cuz I'm not gonna parade around in a swimsuit like some airhead bimbo and all she wants is world peace."
Walking to the other side of the rubber manakin, Spike said, "It wouldn't be like that. C'mon. You'd be an important member of the undercover team..."
"Yeah, right. In a thong," Buffy said, as she planted a swift kick to Tommy's head, kicking Spike's in the process.
"No." He straightened. "In a tasteful one piece. C'mon, you can do a few butt shaping exercises." Slapping her ass, he said, "Tighten this up, and you could pull this off."
Turning around, she grabbed him in a head lock. "Y'know what? Pull this off."
Ignoring his choking, she asked, "Is it because Finn hates me?"
"He doesn't hate you--"
"Is it a woman thing?"
Spike put his arm between her legs and lifted her off the ground, and then slammed her back down. "Don't kid yourself. No one thinks of you that way."
He groaned as she planted a swift kick to his neck, which sent him rolling. As he tried to get up, she slammed him back down. "He's punishing me, isn't he?"
"Listen, Buffy. I had to beg him to let you do this."
"What?!"
"Yeah, that's right. Whether you like it or not, you screwed up, Summers."
Spike flipped her over, and they rolled along the mat. Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist, and put her hands around him neck. He kneeled on the ground, and place his hands on her neck. Falling backwards, she flipped them over so that she straddled him. "As much as this may come as a shock to you, I've never been in a beauty pageant before. I don't own a dress, I don't even own a fucking brush!" He lifted his legs up so that they came around her front. Pushing her down, he tried to pry her legs from their position around his neck. "And which part of that is supposed to shock me?" he asked, mockingly. She clamped her legs down on his head, and they struggled for a few seconds, before falling on their sides.
Panting, she asked, "All right. Let's avoid reality for like, a second and pretend I said yes. Would I have to do everything? Like, the whole big hair and the make up...?"
"Damn right, Summers. The spinning, the twirling, the smiling, the," he tickled his fingers along her lower abdomen, going into dangerous feminine territory. "cute little tap number." She slapped his hand, and pushed his feet off her head. Rolling away from each other, she got up first and body slammed him while he was down. Grabbing him in a chokehold once more, he grabbed the arm around his neck and flipped her onto the ground. She lay there, panting as he walked in a circle, soaking up the praise, arms lifted.
"So you're saying," she panted, and he turned back to her. "that I have to wear the bathing suit?"
"Yep."
"Oh," was all she said before she kicked his legs out from under him.
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Chapter 5:
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As they walked along the sidewalk and across the street to their meeting with Maggie Walsh and Clement Jones, Buffy asked Spike, "Well, what could possibly motivate anybody to enter a beauty pageant is beyond me."
Hands firmly tucked into his jeans pockets, Spike answered, "Scholarship money, a chance to see the world, broaden your horizons, meet new people...."
"So join the Marines! God, it's like feminism never happened! It's like any woman that does this is catering to misogynisitic Neanderthal mentality."
"I dated the Young Miss Sunnydale last month," Spike said.
"My god, can you really be this superficial?"
"Hard to believe, right?" Spike smirked. Glancing up at the building in front of them, he said, "All right, here we are..."
****
"...therefore we'd like to use one of our team....undercover," Spike finished explaining to the former Miss United States.
"Am I hearing this right?" she asked, disbelievingly.
"Maggie," said Clem. He was a middle aged man who had recently lost about 200 pounds, so his skin was sort of in flaps. "These people want to put one of their own agents..." he clapped a hand over his heart. "In our beauty pageant."
"They want her to win?"
"Oh no, ma'am," Spike said. "Well, we will need your help with the judging to ensure our agent gets into the top five and can have access to the entire perimeter."
"No. Absolutely not."
"Miss. Walsh, we understand how important this beauty pageant is to you--"
Maggie cut Buffy off with an indignant, "Excuse me. This is not a beauty pageant. This is a scholarship program. And it has been since my reign."
"Absolutely, Miss. Walsh. We're here to protect the girls---women!" Spike backtracked. "Umm.....scholarship...ladies."
Sighing, Maggie agreed, "There's nothing more important to me than the safety of my girls. I'd rather cancel the pageant than have one of them blown up!"
"Especially," Clem added. "Without their knowledge." When everyone gave him funny looks, he raised his hands and leaned back in his chair.
"We went to the network," Buffy said, "to cancel the pageant, but they refused. We can't force them."
"I'm confused," Clem said. "What state is she going to be from? All of the winners have already been chosen."
"Don't worry about that, Mr. Jones. We recently discovered some information on Miss California," Buffy said. "Turns out she was in a little movie called Arma Get It On."
Looking surprised, Spike asked, "Was that her?"
"Oh yeah. So she was probably planning on dropping out of the pageant soon anyways."
"Well," Maggie said. "Did you have an agent in mind?"
Buffy raised her hand, and Maggie started to laugh. After seeing Buffy's hurt look, she said, "Sorry." After taking another look at Buffy's appearance, she said, "Let me get you Rupert Giles' number." Pressing the button on the intercom, she said, "Adam!" Turning back to the agents, she said, "He's our pageant consultant. Adam! Maybe he can do something to help. ADAM!!"
A young, bulky young man with dark hair came through the doors. Maggie said, "This is my assistant, Adam Tobin."
"Hi everyone!" Adam gave a small wave.
"Will you get these people Rupert Giles' number, and get me a spring water, and for god's sake, tuck in your shirt!"
Closing his jacket, he said, "So that was a water for you...and..."
Closing her eyes tiredly, she said, "Rupert. Giles'. Number."
***
Rupert Giles sat in the local restaurant, sipping a glass of water. He stood up when he saw an attractive woman approaching, and began to sit down when she passed.
"Mr. Giles?" came a voice from beside him. He looked down to see a ragged looking dirty blonde, who was dressed in men's apparell.
"If you are Buffy Summers, I quit now."
Buffy and Spike laughed, and Buffy said, "Yeah, I'm having a bad hair day....or bad hair decade...."
"Mr. Giles, I'm William Matthews. You can call me Spike. We spoke on the phone?"
Looking over at the male agent, he said, "Despite the peroxided coloring of it, your hair is perfect. However, I can't accept this job. There is no way on earth I can make this woman ready in two days."
"Please, Mr. Giles! Give it a chance," Spike said, trying to smooth talk him into the job. "Sit down. Have lunch. Totally on the Bureau."
Considering this, he said, "Yes, I suppose that would be the civilized thing to do."
Glancing down at the hand on his shoulder, Spike pulled away, and said, "Actually, I gotta take a rain check. I have to take care of some bloody FBI stuff."
"No! What?!" Buffy protested.
"Y'know, that thing...."
"What thing?"
"That thing I told you about...."
"There was no thing you told me about!!!"
He walked out of the restaurant, and Buffy sat down at the table with a defeated sigh.
Giles sat down across from her, and took in her slouch. 'Oh dear God. What have I gotten myself into......?'
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Chapter 6:
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Buffy sat at the table, circling her wet finger around the rim of her water glass. The friction caused a soft ring to sound out, and she appeared not to notice she was even doing it. She was chewing on a small portion of her steak, and asked, "So how long have you been doing this...pageant training thing?"
"Excuse me, what was the question? I was distracted by the half-masticated cow rolling around in your wide open trap."
"Excuse me, what is your problem?!" Buffy snapped.
"My problem?"
"Yeah, I mean yes!" Buffy said, remembering his lecture on politeness and manners. "I mean, have I offended you in some way? Because you've been
completely antagonistic to me from the second I walked in."
"Did you know," Giles said, seemingly ignoring her
question. "that I was once the most sought-after, highly paid consultant in pageant history?"
"I had no idea," Buffy said sarcastically.
"Every season, girls would plead with me to train them. Ten out of 11 bloody years, my girls wore the crown. The year my girl was runner up, the winner was a deaf-mute," he said. When he saw Buffy's eyes widen, he said, "I know. It couldn't get worse than that. But it did. Because in '96, my girl froze like a puddle halfway through her ariz from La Boheme. Afterwards, she told a reporter from Pageant Magazine that I was a crazed perfectionist, who had harangued her to within an inch of her sanity. Of course, after that article came out....nobody wanted me." Buffy, who had grown only slightly bored during his entire speech and had begun the glass ringing, stopped. "Ok...with all due respect here, Giles. Why did Miss Walsh suggest you?"
"Because," he said, unfolding his arms into a ta-da position, "I am...the best." When she looked at him with a slightly doubtful expression, he said, "Or perhaps it's because everyone else worth having had a contestant." Accepting this answer, Buffy began to twirl her finger over the top of her glass again. "They had their southern bells, their mid-western farmers' daughters, Spunky Western cowgirls. And I have...." he paused as he watched Buffy pick something out of her teeth. "...Dirty Harriet." Finally getting irritated with her antics, he
grabbed her hand to still it, asking through
clenched teeth, "Will you desist?"
"Yeah."
"Yes."
"'Yes'."
****
As they walked out of the restaurant, Giles declared, "Oh dear lord. I haven't seen a walk like
that since Jurassic Park."
Stopping, she replied, "Yeah, well you know what? It's been working really well for me that past 26 years, all right?"
"Well, glide, now. Glide," he said, taking her arm to lead her down the sidewalk. "Gl--don't look down, don't look down. Don't look down, look up. Your chin should always be parallel to the floor." Giving her a slight push on the back, he said, "Now glide. Glide."
She began walking down the street as though she were skating ont it.
"It's not the bloody Ice Capades," he said. Placing his hands on her back, he said, "Glide."
"Gliding!"
"No no. Don't pick your feet up. Don't pick your feet up!! Why are you picking your feet up?!"
"Because I'm preparing to run away."
"No, wait. Wait."
"What?"
"Watch me. Glide, glide." He walked a bit down the sidewalk, before turning back to her. "See? Glide." Turning back around, he called out to her, "It's all in the buttocks. Don't I look pretty?"
Under her breath, she mumbled, "It takes a verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry secure man to walk like that...."
As they crossed the street, he said, "Roll your hips, roll your hips. Head up, head up! Keep gliding...keep glidi--" he was cut off as a taxi nearly hit them, honking it's horn.
"Hey!" she yelled, slamming her hands down on the hood. "I'm glidin' here! Asshole!"
***
some random dark place
A wire was wrapped around a gloved finger, and a pair of tiny clippers snipped it. Using it to slice a piece of something wrapped in a paper that read, 'DEMOLITION COMBUSTION'. Looking under the microscope, the person connected a wire and a heated tool. As the tiny bomb smoking, signalling it's completedness, the glove-wearing person smiled.
The bomb....was ready.
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Chapter 7:
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On the airplane, Giles sat next to Buffy who was laughing histerically at the movie she was watching. It may have been more amusing had the video not been of pageants past. "Oh! Oh, she's gonna cry again....'If I only had a brain'!" She placed one hand on her mouth and waved herself with the other, faking histeria.
Leanging towards her, Giles said, "I am somewhat less than amused."
He walked back to where Spike was doodling in the notepad he had borrowed from Buffy a few days ago. When he passed by, Spike asked, "How's she doing?"
"With some intensive work.....she'll be ready for the world's finest trailor park."
They watched in amusement as Buffy waved her hand to an imaginary crowd, pretending she was crying, and whispered loudly, "Thank you..."
"I know," Giles stage whispered. "Both painful...and grotesque, isn't it?"
Spike laughed as Buffy pretended to sob, jarring Xander from his nap.
***
When the plane landed and everyone filed out of it, Spike asked Giles, "Mr. Giles, we've got everything you asked for. Where do we start?"
"Teeth, hair, manicure, pedicure."
Running to catch up with them, Buffy asked, "Which one first? You guys? What are you going to do with my teeth?"
"Hopefully, remove the beer stains and steak residue."
***
Buffy made indignant noises as her teeth were scraped and cleansed of plaque and stains. "Hey!" she said, pushing away the tools so she could speak. "Can I get some novacaine or something here?!"
"Miss," said the woman cleaning her teeth's agitated response. "It's only a cleaning."
"Not for you! For the guy with the brush back here! Ow! I'd like to keep some of my hair, thanks!"
"You'll be lucky if I can get any of the knots out!" said the hair care guy, Lorne. "Can I borrow a rake?"
Attention, Attention, came some monotonic voice from over the speakers. Will all hair removal units, wax, electrolysis, laser, please report at 2300 hours.
***
Buffy screeched as the wax was ripped off her calf, thigh and eyebrows.
"Ah! Ooh! Hello!"
***
Spike picked up the gun, looking through the small target area when all of a sudden, a pain filled scream sounded throughout the area.
Looking over at Giles questioningly, his only answer was, "Bikini Wax."
"Ow," he said as he watched Buffy's small frame hobble out from behind the curtains.
***
As Spike walked over to the food table, he spied a pretty red-headed assistant. Giving her the once over, he said, "How're you doing, luv?" She gave him a small smile, and he said, "Ever seen one this big?" When she gave him a disgusted glare, he ammended quickly, "Sandwich. Was talking about the sandwich."
She rolled her eyes and walked away. Buffy took her place and was about to take a bite out of a giant piece of the six footer, when Giles snatched it out of her hands, replacing it with a celery stick. Seeing her look of disdain, Spike waved his sandwich in front of her, and said, "Nobody said this job was easy."
She glared at him, before taking a big bite out of her celery and pretending she enjoyed it. He retaliated by picking up a powdered doughnut and make pleasured noises as he ate it. Walking away, she huffed and chucked her celery at the back of his head, causing him to yelp, "Ow!"
***
Buffy stood in a face mask and tinfoil as she watched Spike show her what her equipment was. "This earpiece lets you hear anybody on our frequencies, and they can hear you."
Taking it, she grumbled, "Don't need it. With all this foil, I'm getting HBO."
Spike held back a laugh and handed her the pin. "This is a pin camera. There's actually a little lense in there...it provides a digital video feed to our hookups." Picking up a wallet, he opened it, and said, "Here are your I.D.s....Pageant Identity."
She glanced down at it, and glowered. "Buffy Anne Summers? Couldn't think of something better?"
"Luv, you were born with the best bloody pageant name. No need to change it."
***
Clamping his hands down on Lorne's shoulders, Giles said, "More.....fluffy."
***
Eating a doughnut, Giles told Maria, "Eyebrows....there should be two!"
***
As he approached Buffy with a hair-drying thing, he said to Cheryl, "Another two coats, and a sealant." She nodded, and he was on his way.
***
Spike, Xander, Oz, Graham, and Forrest leaned up against the Bureau's car. Xander sighed and looked down at his watch...it was nearing 10:00 a.m. They had been up since 7:00 a.m. the previous morning, none of them stopping to sleep.
"I'm so fucking tired..." he whined, looking straight at Spike.
"We all are, mate. Summers should be outta there in, 5 to 10 minutes is what Giles said."
"Yeah! 20 minutes ago!" Xander complained.
"Be patient, man." Oz said, strangely serene.
"It is getting a little ridiculous." Forrest said, looking at his watch, "I don't even want to know how many hours we've been here....or awake, for that matter."
"Yeah, yeah..." Spike commented, taking another drag on his cigarette.
Suddenly, the doors opened. Giles walked out, followed by the technicians, all walking in a wall, as though they were concealing something. Giles had an odd sort of smile on his face, one that seemed genuine. Spike turned around to watch the parade of beauticians.
Giles walked slowly, jacket hooked over his shoulder. He turned to give the men a good view of Buffy.
Spike's eyes widened and he dropped his cigarette.
The girl in front of him was * not * Summers.
The girl in front of him was wearing a blue sun dress, with long, straight strands of bright, magical blonde hair falling around her bronze shoulders.
The girl in front of him had smooth, pouty lips that were slicked with a pink gloss.
The girl in front of him had perfectly arched eyebrows, which were perched atop of round, luminous hazel eyes that twinkled in the light.
The girl in front of him smiled shyly, only to reveal whiter than white teeth.
Her legs were smooth and strong.
Her waist was thin.
Her arms were toned.
And every contour of her skin was deeply tanned...in a way that Spike knew one could not get from a tanning booth.
"Summers..." Spike whispered, trailing off.
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Chapter 8:
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His eyes roamed over her body, appreciatively taking in every curve. It took all of his self-restraint not to grab her and shag her in front of all these agents.
"Buffy...is that you, luv?" he breathed.
Barely ignoring the new endearment, Buffy breezed past him and said, "I'm in a dress, I've got strangely soft and straight hair, I haven't slept all night, I'm starved, and I'm armed. Don't. Mess with me." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, one wobbling foot gave way and she collapsed to the ground, falling flat on her face.
Reaching down, Spike grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet, trying desperately to ignore the fuzzy feelings in his stomach that he got when he touched her. As she walked off, Spike appreciatively eyed her ass as he said, "Rupes! Nice work!"
As the smitten bleached blonde traipsed after the new Miss California, Giles muttered to himself, "My God, I'm good."
***
The cab pulled up in front of the building, and Buffy read the flashing letters on the digital sign in front of the AlamoDome. "'You're all winners'. Yeah, right."
She stepped out, clad in a light pink and white three peice. Giles stepped out with her, and when he saw Maggie Walsh approaching, he whispered, "Try not to speak."
"Mr Giles," she greeted, only sparing a glance at the blonde beauty next to him before her eyes widened in recognition. Doing a double take, she breathed, "Miss Summers?"
"Hi," Buffy said shyly.
"Well....Rupert, it appears you haven't lost your touch. You look perfect, and just in time for the orientation breakfast.” Walking away, she turned back to Giles and said, “Rupert? You’ll be taking the bags up to the room? I mean, I know it’s been a while since you’ve been here, but you remember how things work, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer, and dragged Buffy towards the bus.
“One little mistake, and I’m a bloody bell-hop,” Giles muttered before turning around and paying the driver to take up the bags. He then walked over to the car that held Spike, Xander and Oz.
* * *
After two extremely embarrassing occurrences where Buffy had fallen down on the ground, she managed to get onto the bus. Looking around for a place to sit, she heard someone say, “California? Y-You can sit right here.” The perky red-head patted the seat next to her. “I’m Willow Rosenburg from Rhode Island!”
“Thanks,” Buffy said. “I’m—“
“Buffy Anne Summers. I know. I memorized the orientation pamphlet. I know all 49 ladies by name and picture....50 including myself! Your picture wasn’t there, so I knew it was you by your lack of picture.”
Buffy nodded, slightly scared by this girl. “So...”
“Relax, Summers,” drawled Spike’s voice into her ear. “Just make with the buddy-buddy.”
“Hey!” Buffy piped up. “Random thought....don’t you hate it when guys yammer on and on about nonsense when they know you don’t give?”
“Cute Summers. Now, commence Operation Thong.”
Under her breath, Buffy said, “Why don’t you go stun-gun yourself?”
“I’m wounded, pet.”
* * *
After an excruciating drive where Buffy began beating her head on the seat in front of her from hearing the ‘Miss United States’ theme song one hundred too many times, they finally pulled up to their destination.
“Entering Barbie town,” Buffy muttered under her breath.
Willow dragged Buffy inside, immediately pulling her to a table. “Everyone,” she addressed the girls at the table. “This is Buffy Anne Summers, from California. Buffy, this is Kennedy Michaels from New York....”
“What’s up, California?”
“Glorificus Franklin from Texas...”
“Please, y’all. Call me Glory.”
“Anya Jenkins, Tennessee...”
“Hi!”
“Tara MaClay, Maine....”
“H-Hi,” the girl stuttered.
“And Cordelia Chase....Hawaii.”
“Aloha.”
“I just want y’all to know,” said Glory as she circled the table, “That I believe what the sign on the AlamoDome says...we are all winners.”
“The most important thing is, we’re getting our issues out there for people to hear,” said Kennedy.
“Oh, I know,” Cordelia said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s an honor to have made it this far. Especially when you come from such a small state....”
Willow’s eyes widened, and she gushed, “Oh, that’s so true! Us Rhode Islanders—“
“Excuse me,” interrupted Cordelia. “I wasn’t finished. Did it sound like I was finished?”
“O-Oh,” Willow stuttered, cheeks flushed with embarassment. “I-I’m sorry...”
“What’re you apologizing to her for?” Kennedy asked. “She obviously drank too much Coppertone.”
Eyes narrowing, Cordelia said, “Are you talking to me?”
“Does it sound like I’m talking to you? I mean, I’m looking at you...”
“Hey!” Buffy blurted out. “Kennedy...you live in New York, right?”
“Yeah....”
“Have you ever......um.......s-seen Lion King on Broadway?” she finished lamely, and they all knew she was just trying to keep the peace.
* * *
Inside the van, Xander and Oz were discussing which girl they thought was hottest.
“It’s a toss-up between Tennessee and Hawaii,” Xander said.
“I like Rhode Island, personally,” Oz said. “Which do you like best, Spike?”
’California...’ Spike thought, wistfully.
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Chapter 9:
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Spike's thoughts about Buffy were disrupted when Xander said, "Uhhh...we've got a bit of a problem here....I don't think she can hear us."
"Summers...Summers, do you copy?"
Xander and Oz fumbled around, trying to find to wire to connect the sound.
***
Meanwhile, Buffy looked around as all the girls began to clap. Maggie Walsh took her place behind the podium
"Thank you. Thank you so much.For the past 21 years, it has been my honor to serve as director of this pageant. And I know this year will be our most exciting year ever!"
***
"Bunch of bloody geniuses I'm working with," Spike grumbled. "Hurry up!"
***
"After the rehearsal and a photo shoot, you can settle into your rooms. And then tomorrow, we will begin the preliminaries hosted by our master of ceremonies, an American Institution, Clement Jones!"
All of the girls cheered as Clem took the mic. A few stood up and clapped.
"Thank you! Oh, thank you, Maggie!"
***
"C'mon! Let's get this bloody thing back online!"
"We're working on it!"
"We're trying!"
***
"Thank you, thank you, Maggie. Isn't she ravishing?"
All the girls burst into applause again, and Maggie modestly shook her head. "How does she do it?" Clem asked. "All I know is I wake up every morning and look in the mirror and say, 'Who's that old man in my pj's'?" The room was filled with giggles, and Clem held up his hand to stop them. "And....even though I'll be retiring this year...well, don't cry for me, Alabama."
"Oh, that's so sad," Willow whispered. "He's retiring?"
"Oh god no," Cordelia said. "Clemmy talked to me this morning, and he blurted out the whole thing. They're firing him! Going for someone newer and younger.....I hope it's James Marsters..."
***
Xander held up two disconnected wires, said, "Got it!" and clicked them together.
***
The screeching sound of feedback filled Buffy's ears. "Jesus Christ!"
All of the room looked at her, and she stuttered, "Oh....I uh....I'm sorry." Looking down at the food in her hand, she got an idea. "I had a bite of my bagel and forgot to pray." The girls nodded understandingly, and Buffy kneeled on the ground.
"Dear Jesus," she began, hands folded in her lap. All around the room, girls began to pray with her. "Please forgive me for not praying before I had a bite of my bagel and cream cheese. Amen."
***
Later
Buffy wrapped a robe around herself, and toweled her wet hair. She was exhausted from all the workouts they had done, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She heard a knock on the door, and went to look out of the peephole. Through it, she saw the distorted image of Willow holding a thermos.
"Oh great," she sighed, then opened the door.
"Hi!" said the perky red-head. "I hope I'm not disturbing you!"
"Oh, no...I was just...y'know.....grooming."
Willow nodded understandingly. "I made some of my famous hot chocolate!" she said, holding up the thermous.
Buffy nodded, before getting the vibe that Willow wanted to come in. "Oh! Umm..." Looking inside the room at Glory, who had a face mask on, she said, "My roommate's asleep....or she's starting to mold. Come on in!"
Willow nodded, and sat down on Buffy's bed. "I-I asked some of the other girls, but as soon as they heard the word 'chocolate', they slammed their doors. They didn't even give me a chance to say non-fat!" Willow explained as she poured some of the drink for Buffy. "Well," she said, as she picked up her own mug. "Here's to....world peace!"
"World....peace," agreed Buffy, and she took a sip of it. Not only was the drink steaming, but horrible as well. She spit it back out into the cup, and at Willow's hurt look, she elaborated, "Hot. It's....hot."
"Oh.....I'm sorry! You know, I have to tell you, I-I thought it was really great how you settled that argument today. Lion king....."
"Yeah."
"That's why you're gonna win." Buffy looked up, startled at the statement. "You're so clever, and ....you should tell jokes for your talent! What is your talent?"
"Ummm....it's uh....it's kinda like....it's a...you know....it's like a...surprise!" Willow smiled eagerly. "I mean, it's not anything like baton twirling. What's your talent." She watched as Willow's face fell, and she instantly felt guilty. "Oh, Willow...I'm sorry, I didn't mean...."
"Twirling can be a-a real art," she said. "Once I went to this football game with my boyfriend, and there was this cheerleader and she lit her batons on fire and did this sexy dance! I could never do anything like that...."
"Why not?"
"Oh my parents don't like anything obstentatious, and they really don't like fire."
"Eh....well, Willow, I think you have as good a chance as anyone to win. I mean, you obviously believe in yourself enough to have gotten this far, right?"
"Really?"
"Yeah..."
"Wow...you're so nice and so smart and sensative, you're definitely going to win."
"That's it." Both were startled by Glory's voice. She sat up, and pulled her head phones off. "Excuse me. I am in the middle of a REM cycle here."
"Sorry."
"I'm sorry!"
Buffy and Willow got off the bed and moved towards the door. As she walked down the hall, Willow gave Buffy a little wave. Buffy waved back to her new friend, a smile on her face. She crawled back into bed, and sighed as the warm sheets covered her.
***
Spike stood outside of Buffy's room, peeking in through the glass window. He knew she would kick him if she knew he had watched her walk out of the bathroom while tying the open front of her robe and then slipped on her silk nighty....which caused him to get a massive hard-on, thankyouverymuch....but this was business. He tapped on the door.
***
Buffy's eyes snapped open when someone knocked on her door. "Not happening," she groused. She got out of bed and slid the glass door open, only to reveal Matthews. "What?!"
"You took your earpiece out. Giles needs you."
"Now? Spike, I haven't slept in two days."
"I'll give you a cookie."
Buffy thought for a second, then walked out the door in her silk nighty. Walking ahead of Spike who was admiring her ass, she said, "It better be a big one."
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Chapter 10:
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"You don't walk, you float!" Giles scolded her as Buffy practiced walking down the stairs. "Gently descending, you don't look down. Go back up, do it again. Never, ever look down, okay?"
"Fine, fine!"
"Thighs touching.....touching not clenching!"
"I'm touching!!"
At the moment, Buffy was walking with her kness touching each other, an enourmous gap between her calves.
"You are not! There's a quite distinct gap between knees and calves, your calves and your ankles!"
"Yeah, well right now, there's a huge gap between my brain and my spinal cord." She turned to walk back up the stairs, but turned back. "Hold on." Reaching into the split in her dress, she unzipped and velcroed and unbuckled 7 guns, her badge and some handcuffs.
"What, no armoured car?"
"That would be in my other dress," Buffy snarked as she walked back up the stairs.
"By the way, what will you be doing for your talent tomorrow? Sing? Dance? Chew with your mouth closed?"
"What ever you want me to, Yoda."
"Oh good lord," Giles said. Turning around to where Spike was, he walked towards him and yelled, "Agent Matthews! This woman has no talent!!"
"Well you don't have to bloody shout it out in front of her!"
"I wasn't told to provide a talent and I can't possibly do so in the next 5 hours!"
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"
"I'm saying that tomorrow she'll have nothing to do but stand onstage, converting oxygen into carbon dioxide!"
"You also said you couldn't make her beautiful in two days, and look at her now, look how gorgeous she is," Spike said. His cheeks reddened a bit as he realized what he'd said. Glancing over at Buffy, he saw a small, but proud smile on her face. She had taken his compliment to heart, and he couldn't bear to add 'Compared to the wreck she was before'.
"My duties are clearly stated in a contract, and I have fulfilled them."
"You better bloody talent her up by tomorrow or---"
"Are you threatening me?!"
"Listen to me, you old fruitcake--"
"How dare you, you wanker!"
"Guys!" Buffy yelled, making the 'time-out' signal with her hands. "Chill, all right? There's something I know how to do. I haven't done it since high school...but it's kinda like riding a bike."
"You are NOT having sex on this stage!"
"Uh, I didn't know that was an option." Truth was, Buffy hadn't even had sex. At all. No guy had ever found her appealing before, and the few dates she had been on, she'd never even gotten kissed. "Listen," she continued, trying to stray away from the topic of her virginity. "This thing? Yah, I just gotta call room service." She began to walk away, when Giles' voice stopped her.
"Ms Summers?"
Buffy frowned angrily, and pulled the doughnut out of the front of her dress and handed it to Giles. She began to walk away, when he said, "And the other one?" She groaned, and pulled the other one out. Walking out the door, she was stopped when the guard dog sniffed at her leg where her garter (?) was. "All right, all right," she grumbled, taking the other doughnut out and throwing it at the floor. As she walked out, Spike chuckled as she said, "Happy, you doughnut Nazi...."
***
Some random parking lot
A lone car drove into the abandoned lot, lights cutting through the dark. Getting out of the car, the driver placed a nude manakin about 50 feet away. On the manakin's head was a small, plastic tiara. Pulling out a small remote, the driver clicked it twice at the crown.
Hopping back into the car, they stuck their arm out the window and pressed a small button.
There was a loud explosion, and as the smoke cleared, the driver grinned when they saw that most of the left side and the head of the doll were both missing.
***
Back at the hotel
Buffy walked with Spike along the edge of the pool as they made their way towards her room. "Did I tell you," Buffy yawned. "That Clem Jones was getting fired?"
"I'm on it. You just concentrate on being Buffy Anne, all right?"
"Shyeah."
"And by the way, you're doing a bloody great job. I thought the evening gown looked....um....I totally bought it."
"I know, you think I'm gorgeous," Buffy teased.
"Do not."
"You think I'm gorgeous," Buffy sing-songed. "You want to kiss me, you want to hug me--"
"I think Finn is more feminine, I'd rather kiss him--"
"--you want to love me, you want to hug me, you want to smooch me, you want to--"
Spike stepped in front of her, looking down seductively, and she immediately stopped. His blue eyes searched her green ones, and he slowly leaned down....
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Chapter 11:
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Spike stepped in front of her, looking down seductively, and she immediately stopped.
His blue eyes searched her green ones, and he slowly leaned down. Placing a large hand on the back of her head, he lifted her face.
Buffy slowly closed her eyes, licking her lips in anticipation.
Seeing her small, pink tongue dart out, Spike leaned down the rest of the way.
Buffy shivered when she felt his full, soft lips on hers. His tongue traced her lips, asking for permission. Buffy opened her mouth, and he slid his tongue inside.
Buffy gasped, and placed her small hands on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.
His tongue sought hers out, chasing it around until he trapped it. Moaning, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her flush against him. Buffy wound her arms around his neck, sighing softly.
The need for air became overwhelming, and they pulled apart, each panting slightly. Placing a small kiss on her forehead, he whispered, "Sweet dreams, kitten."
***
Buffy waved goodbye to Spike, and closed the door. Climbing into bed, she closed her eyes, a dreamy smile on her face as she picture their kiss in her minds-eye.
Snuggling into her sheets, she touched her hand to her lips, still buzzing from his touch.
Sighing, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
***
The dressing room
Buffy yawned as she made her way over to her make-up chair. She had gone to sleep at around 4, and had only managed to get 3 hours of sleep.
"Tired, kitten?" she heard Spike purr in her ear.
"Very," she mumbled. "Someone kept me up with their lips last night....."
"Oh, luv. You are so lucky no one's in here with me at the moment. Otherwise, there'd be a hell of a commotion about that comment."
"What if one of them saw us?"
"What?"
"One of the contestants? What if one of them saw you there? I could be kicked out. You could be kicked out----" She sounded truly concerned, and Spike hurried to reassure her.
"Pet, if someone did see us, then they would've had to have been up at 11 pm through 4 am. I don't think anyone saw us."
"Buffy," came Willow's voice. "You look so tired."
"Oh she had a busy night," Glory said smugly. Walking over to her roommate, she said, "I saw that gentleman stop by the room."
"Shit," she heard Spike swear in her ear. "Um....I don't know, luv. Tell them I'm an ex who won't leave you alone. Insult me. I know not to take it seriously." He watched the uncertain look pass over her face, and he cooed, "It's alright, baby. No one else is here to hear it. I won't take it seriously."
"Gentleman?" Cordy asked.
"Uh-huh," said Glory.
"That's not allowed," Cordelia said, narrowing her eyes at Buffy. "No men in the room."
"Oh but things are different here on the mainland, 5-0," Kennedy snarked from behind her.
"Hold on ladies," said Anya. "Let's hear her side of the story." Turning to Buffy, she asked bluntly, "Are you sleeping with a judge?"
Hearing Spike laugh in her ears at this question relaxed Buffy slightly. "Oh," Buffy smiled. "Him? Yeah, I dated him for a while because he said he had an incurable disease." Under her breath, she muttered, "I'm so sorry, Spike."
"What was that?" Cordy snapped.
"I-I said, I didn't realize it was stupidity." All the girls laughed, and Buffy smiled a bit.
"I know what that's like," agreed Anya.
"Yeah. He's such a loser. It's like, I'm sorry he's obsessed with me, but at some point it's like, "Hello! Move on! Get over yourself!" You know what I mean?" Buffy said. She cast an apologetic look at the mirror, and Spike knew she was feeling bad about what she was saying about him.
"It's ok, kitten. Go on insulting my manliness."
"I mean, his ego's like this big-" she held her arms about 2 feet apart. "-and his equipment's like this big..." she placed her thumb and her finger about an inch apart. All the girls laughed, and cheered her on.
When they left, she mumbled, "Oh god. I'm so sorry, Spike...."
"It's alright, luv," Spike cooed. "I was laughing along with them."
"Oh....ok then."
Spike chuckled. She was just too adorable....
***
The Alamo
"Thank you, thank you!" Clem said to the audience, who was clapping and cheering. "And welcome to the Miss United States Pageant Preliminary here at the beautiful and historical Alamo!"
More cheering.
"Prepare for what promises to be a day of astounding musical, theatrical, and dancing talent. And after I'm finished, you can see the ladies." The people laughed, and Clem announced, "And now, put it together for Miss Glory Franklin from Texas!"
Glory came on stage, and held the microphone in her hand. "You...light up my life....."
***
For her talent, Cordelia played the flute and at the same time did a small jazz dance.
***
For her performance, Tara sang opera, and Buffy was impressed that this shy girl had such a pair of lungs.
***
For her talent, Anya made balloon animals while doing a small dance. Buffy thought to herself how bad it was, and felt sorry for the girl.
***
Throughout Willow's performance, Buffy cheered and clapped along with the audience as the red-head twirled her baton all over the place.
***
Buffy walked out onstage, wearing an outfit that one would think she beat up a yodeler for....actually, you could say that the yodeler probably gave it to her.
Behind her, Buffy was dragging a table of water glasses, all filled to different levels.
"What's her talent?" Maggie asked Clem. "Bartending?"
Wetting her finger, Buffy played it along the edge, causing a small ringing sound to play. One of the glasses was off-tune, causing feed-back to blare in everyone's ears, and everyone cringed. Buffy took a large sip of the water, and placed it on the table, and this time when she played it, a nice normal sound came out.
As they watched her perfom, Maggie said to Giles, "I thought you weren't responsible for making her look credible?"
"I wish I could explain," Giles said, dryly. "But there are no words."
As Buffy continued her performance, the soft sounds of a piano filtered through the air. Glancing into the audience, she saw a man in a brown jacket and a white stetson reach into his pocket, exposing a gun.
"Eagle eye," she mumbled. "You might wanna check out cowboy at 1:00..."
"My 1:00, or your 1:00?" asked Xander.
"The one under the white Stetson..."
"White Stetsons everywhere, luv," Spike said into his walkie talkie.
"He's moving, he's moving...he's moving towards the stage, he's definitely a shooter. Anybody got him?" She sounded panicked, and Spike knew she was seriously scared. And it took a lot to scare her.
"Calm down, luv. We're checking it out."
"Spike, he has a gun!"
"Shh...."
"I can't 'shh'. Who's got the 20 on the stetson shooter?" Seeing his hands shift around, she said, "I'm taking him out, you guys."
"No, pet! Wait until we have a visual."
Seeing the man reach inside his jacket near where his gun was, Buffy made up her mind.
***
Maggie stood in front of the TV along with Buffy, Spike, Clem and Giles. They were watching on the News the end of Buffy's performance.
"Gun! Gun! Everybody down!" yelled Buffy as she waved her arms and ran down the aisle. The crowd parted, and Buffy leapt off the stage, hitting the man who looked up in time to see her flying at him as he lit up his cigarette.
"Ms Summers!" yelled one reporter as Buffy was hauled off the man. "Why did you tackle that man?"
"Well, as you know, all the contestants are actively involved in ending tobacco dependance. Needless to say, I think the man will think twice again before lighting up again."
"I'm sure we all will," said the reporter, and she smiled into the camera.
Maggie pressed the off button, and turned to the agents.
"Look," Buffy began. "He had a gun."
"Of course he had a gun," Maggie snapped. "This is Texas. Everybody has a gun. My dog-cleaner has a gun."
"I don't have a gun," said Clem. "My family comes from a long line of Quakers."
"Clem! Please."
"Look, we're going to assume that every male with a gun is a suspect."
"Not anymore," Spike interrupted. "We got the DNA results. The citizen letter....was licked by a woman."
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