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Four for Conversation

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This story is No. 5 in the series "Voyeurs, Destroyers and Predators". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: The conversation that follows on from Third Time ... er ... Lucky?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > ComedyMissEFR151829032,25118 Sep 1018 Sep 10Yes
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Supernatural

A/N: I'm stuck here for a couple of days, without any internet. So I decided to trawl through some of my stories, see what needs picking up, whatever. (And, yes, I will be getting back to Whispers of Willow.) Anyway, I read through the first three in this series, and got attacked by a plot bunny. As you do.

~~~~~

“So, Xan,” Buffy began as she slid into the seat beside him. “What's this about you hauling innocent young men out of bed at the, and I quote, 'ass-crack of dawn?'”

Xander stared at her, horrified. “Who the what, now?” he demanded.

“I was in the middle of hooking up with this hottie last night, when I told him my name, and he freaked.”

“Yeah, which is weird, 'cause Buffy is such an ordinary name,” Dawn smirked from another couch.

Buffy offered her sister a gesture of her deep love and affection before going on. “To be fair, he was more concerned about you dragging me to the car.”

“Ah,” her Xander-shaped friend sighed. “Now we're on familiar ground. Yeah, have to admit, that is a fair accusation. I have, as the fair Lydia is wont to say, knocked the occasional Slayer and/or Slayerette up at an ungodly hour of the morning.”

“Never going to get used to that Brit-ism,” Buffy admitted, shaking her head.

“Kind of with the weird,” Dawn agreed.

“'Sides which,” Faith smirked, “you can't really call what you do 'knocking'. Thumping, maybe, or thunderous pounding,” she considered.

“I'm going with 'thunderous pounding,'” Dawn decided. “Accompanied by screeching, and murderous threats.”

“I do not screech,” Xander frowned.

“Why would Xander need to pound thunderously, and not-screech murderous threats at you, at the ass-crack of dawn?” Buffy asked archly. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

Dawn's eyes went wide, and she looked quickly to Xander, who shook his head. “Ain't lying for you, Dawnie. Won't tell, but not lying, either.”

“There might have been this incident with this absolute hottie, who was – oh, my god – just so absolutely hot, and would never have seen you 'cause he was like huge! And Xander just about dragged me out of bed at I-don't-want-to-know-what-time of the morning, screeching (“I don't screech,” Xander muttered.) all kinds of horrendous threats, and he was so sweet, and wanted to help me, and told me he could protect me from Xander, 'cause that's how bad he was, and he was so sweet, and did I say how much of a hottie he was?” Dawn babbled.

“Any good in the sack?” Faith grinned.

“Oh. My. God,” Dawn whispered.

“The word 'convent' was mentioned,” Xander informed his smallest friend.

“Convent is sounding good, right about now,” Buffy agreed.

“Oh, hells no,” Dawn disagreed. “I'd be more likely to traumatise them than Angelus!”

“Way to over-dramatise,” Xander teased. “Hey, what did this guy look like?”

“Kind of like you, actually,” Buffy replied.

Xander raised an eyebrow. “I'm curious,” he prompted.

“Well, you know,” Buffy shifted uncomfortably. “Tall, dark hair, and, well, not uber-fashionable.”

“Ah. So he was wearing clothes that might actually last a night patrolling, then.”

Buffy pouted fiercely at the man.

“Well, don't blame me if your brand new fancy-schmancy shirt gets all slimed the day you bought it. If you recall, I did make a comment about letting things get a bit used before wearing them on patrol. Same goes for brand new, Italian leather bustiers,” he added, grinning at the brunette Slayer.

“So what about your guy,” Buffy asked her sister.

“Oh, no. My guy was way tall, and had this really cute hair, and was a total sweetie.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember him. Nothing like Faith's guy. Gave him my card, too.” After a moment, he thought to clarify, “Faith's guy, not Dawnie's. Someone, it seems, decided to hook up with a hunter, and I'm not talking the killed-Bambi's-mother type hunter, either. Faith, that is, not Dawnie,” he clarified again. “Though,” he added thoughtfully, “there was something about Dawnie's guy. Bit of a white knight,” he mused.

“Oh, hells no,” Buffy glared at her sister. “You are not getting involved in anyone like that. You will find a nice, normal guy who is not going to running off to save the world, do you hear me?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “'Cause those are in such abundant supply when I'm around,” she drawled.

Buffy's lips thinned to a tight line. “Whatever. And there will be no hooking up with random hotties, and having to be dragged out of bed. Is that clear?”

Dawn raised an eyebrow. “As I recall, you were doing the horizontal mamba with Angel long before you were my age.”

Silence reigned in the room for a good minute after that comment. Then Xander simply stood and walked out, while Buffy sputtered, and Faith laughed so hard she slid off the chair.

When Faith finally calmed down sufficiently, she grinned at Dawn. “And that's what's called a 'conversation stopper.' Damn, Little D, but it was a good one, too. Don't think X is going to let you tag along for a while, though.”

Dawn rolled her eyes, and grumbled softly about overprotective siblings and pseudo-siblings. Now. Where had she hidden Mr Hottie's number?

The End

You have reached the end of "Four for Conversation". This story is complete.

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