Author’s note: this is a pathetic little homage to Valerie X and her fic “Super Food World” posted years ago at Fanfiction.net and allaboutspike.com
DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, and all associated characters are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, United Paramount Network, and Fox Television. Heroes and all associated characters are property of Tim Kring and NBC. This work is not for profit, and no ownership of aforementioned copyrighted material implied, nor any infringement intended.
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Andrew pushed the oversize cart through Food 4 Less. Keeping a house full of newly-chosen Slayers, incipient Watchers, and various Sunnydale refugees stocked with food, toilet paper, and feminine hygiene products was nearly a full time occupation. Cooking and cleaning turned it into a full job with overtime. “Oh my Goddess!”
The woman across they aisle had initially caught Andrew’s eye in a ‘used to be totally hot when she was younger’ kind of way. In a house full of Slayers in their teens to twenties she would be unremarkable, except…“You’re the woman from that comic book by the dead seer Isaac Mendez!”
The woman ducked her head and started to move her cart. “Sorry. Don’t know who you mean.”
“It must be you; in issue number three there was an exquisite profile—you’re her!”
“No, seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The blonde struggled against the wobbly front left caster of the cart that slowed her escape.
Andrew closed in for the victory. “It’s okay; you can confide your secret identity with me, oh warrior of the inked page—urk!”
Andrew was slammed up against a shelf of industrial-size cans of refried beans. The woman had gone from pretty-but-shy to stone cold killer in the blink of an eye. Her voice was icy when she spoke this time. “You wanted me? Now you’ve got me.”
“Do not fucking bother me ever again, or I will squash you like a bug. Got it?”
Andrew hadn’t been so scared since he had used the Mud Mask Medley that belonged to Shelly, the new Canadian Slayer, without asking. Actually, he hadn’t been so scared since Spike bit him back in Sunnydale.
“I. Asked. If. You. Understood.”
The woman flicked her arm and Andrew slid twenty feet down the recently waxed aisle on his backside.
“I shall not divulge your secret. Wild targs could not drag the secret from my body while my heart still beats.” But the woman was gone. Andrew rose to his feet and shook his head. No WAY Xander was going to believe him this time.