By A.Price
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of BTVS. I
like to play with their lives though. They of course belong
to Joss Whedon and Co.
Authors Note: If I had know how this would blossom when
my daughter asked me to write that first fanfic, I might
have had second thoughts. Nah, I love to write and the web
page is fun, but it can also be work.
It's been a long day, I've done way too much housework.
But that what a divorce mother of three does on her days
off, that and work on her webpage! Which I tried to do
this morning. As I was typing the final page of the html
draft, I accidentally pressed some phantom button that sent
my whole story to cyberheaven before I had saved on word of
it. I gave up, I went and ran errands and chauffeured kids,
like a normal person.
With the kids all deposited elsewhere, I sat down to relax.
I got back in front of the computer and read some stuff, I
noticed that someone had called my web page an up and coming
site. Ohh! I had the big head for about two minutes, until I
stepped into the dog throwup on the carpet. That brought me
back to reality quickly. I decided to watch tv for awhile.
I turned on "The Pretender", this is my sisters favorite
show. She teases me for watching "Buffy", she thinks this
is a more adult show. Remind me to ask her how this "Broots"
guy got hired by these super smart centre people.
I watch the show and decide to go work on a story. A Buffy
and Spike story, I've been ignoring that part of the site.
I am having trouble with an idea, so I go get a glass of
coca-cola and a handful of oreos. This is for inspiration.
I am seriously trying to put something down on paper, when
I am interrupted by a "Hello, Michelle". This is very odd,
because I am alone in the house. It gets odder, when I look
up Xander Harris is in my bedroom. "Okay, I didn't even have
a margarita tonight. I have watched one too many episodes of
Buffy" I think to myself. I am definitely over the edge here.
I decide it can't hurt to talk to him, I quietly say "Hello,
and why are you here? And how do you know my name?" I know
this is a stupid question, I have a fictional character in
my bedroom and I want to know how he knows my name.
"You are A. Price, right? How did you get that from
Michelle?" he asks me.
"Oh, my first name is Andra and my maiden name is Price." I
realize I am explaining my name to a piece of fiction. Can
this night get weirder?
"Oh. Well, I'm here because of those No Regrets Stories you
write for your site. I really like them. I mean I get Buffy,
we even have kids and a nice life. Keep up the good work!"
he says with a smile.
"Thanks" I say shyly. Thinking to myself that he hasn't read
the whole series. "Um, Xander, did you read the last story I
put up in that series?"
"No, not yet. Why?" he ask curiously.
"I read it" says another voice that enters my bedroom. It
can't be, but it is, Angel is now in my room. When I regain
my composure, I ask him "You read my story? And I didn't
invite you in."
"Michelle, I think the very prescence of Xander and I in
your bedroom pretty much proves that all rules are off for
the night." he says with that perfect smile.
Then he adds "Yes, I read your story and thanks."
"Your welcome" I say happily. I know hes happy he ended up
with Buffy.
Xander looks at me "Whoa, if Dead Boy is happy about this
story it can't be good news for me"
I look at him apologetically "I'm sorry Xander, but you, well
you died. But you got to be married for over 30 years and you
even had grandchildren." I am feeling a little bad for him.
"Let me guess" he says annoyed "I die and he gets my wife."
he says as he points at Angel.
"I'm afraid so" I answer him.
Angel smiles at him and says "Yep, she ends up with me. But
its okay I take very good care of her."
I am beginning to feel quite comfortable with my company. I
don't know why they are here, but they are. I have to ask
"So, have you read any of my other fanfic?" I write, so I
crave feedback from wherever I can get it.
They look at each other then Xander speaks, "Yes, we've read
it and we have a question about that Buffy/Spike stuff."
"Come on, Buffy would never fall for Spike" says Angel full
of disbelief, maybe some jealousy mixed in.
"And why not?" asks another voice entering my bedroom. This
one has a British accent. It is of course Spike. I am not
quite as comfortable with the new visitor. Also its getting
crowded in my bedroom!
Oh well! This can't get stanger so I get braver and ask "What
can I do for you Spike?"
"I like those stories with me and Buffy. Dru hates them
but that slayer is a cutie." he directs the last part at
Angel.
He then adds "By the way Dru has noticed that when you write
about her you always mention her sanity." he said with a
raised eyebrow.
"You mean lack of sanity" the words are out of my big mouth
before I think. Xander and Angel laught out loud. Spike gives
us all a look.
"Spike, Buffy would never fall for you" says Angel with a
slight bit of arrogance. I like Angel I really do, but I
wrote those stories and they seem right to me (of course, I
am entertaining fictional characters in my home!)
I look around my bedroom, Angel and Xander are on the foot
of my bed. Spike is in the rocker. I realize I have three
guys in my bedroom. I think that if my mind worked that way
this could turn into a NC-17 fic. But I just blush at the
thought and decide I need to get them out of here, before
I have to explain there prescence to my children.
"Guys, I don't mean to rush you, but I am really tired, and
there is this story I am working on. And besides I don't
have a clue how to explain you to my kids if they come home."
I tell them hesitantly.
Angel speaks first "We do need to leave you now. By the way
Buffy and I love those short happy fics you write about us,
especially the one with the love poems and quotes. But will
you please think about those Buffy/Spike things, for me?"
Xander gets up from the bed "You get some sleep, and write
something happy for me, okay?" he says sweetly. "Maybe I
should have let him live a little longer in that story" I
think to myself.
"Come on Spike" says Angel as they head for the door.
"Goodnight Ducks, keep writing those stories" he says with
a smile. Then he leans in and whispers "Dru is nuts, your
right!" he laughs and walks out with the others.
I get up and check to make sure my door is locked. Its as
if no one else has been here. I go back to my bed and ask
myself "What just happened here?" As I settle under my
blankets, I think to myself "I know writers get close to
their characters, but this is ridiculous!"
The End