Disclaimer: I own nothing. All Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters are the property of their original owners.
In the cafeteria of the Jenny Calendar Memorial House for Exceptional Women, there were only several people there on this New Year’s Day morning, and since last night had been an occasion for hard partying, these survivors were mainly in a very fragile state, wincing at the slightest noise and waiting for the caffeine and aspirin to kick in. They most decidedly did not
need for Buffy Summers to come clanking into the room, draped with numerous hand weapons sheathed in their harnesses covering this senior Slayer’s entire body, not to mention holding the Scythe in both white-knuckled hands, and possessing a look of pure fury upon the beautiful woman’s face.
As she stomped closer to the alarmed observers clustered around their shared table, an enraged Buffy came to a halt before them all, at the same instant she savagely snarled to nobody in particular, “Okay, listen up! Anybody who knows where Xander and Dawn are hiding, they better talk now,
before I really lose my temper!”
In her seat, Faith perked up at this welcome distraction from regretting doing entire bottles of vodka as shots last night, with her level-eleven hangover actually subsiding a bit when the Boston-born Slayer was the only person at the table brave enough to snark at her one-time enemy, “Hey, B, what’s got your panties in a bunch about Little D and the Xan-man? ‘Sides, they‘re probably in their own beds right now--”
“I checked! Neither of them are there!” snapped Buffy.
A very dirty grin slowly appeared on Faith’s features, as she connected the dots regarding that news and Buffy’s current vile mood, with that blond Slayer’s state of mind becoming even more homicidal as Faith now whooped in a loud voice, “So, they went for it at last! ’Bout damn time! Ever since Xan got back from Africa, they been circlin’ ’round each other so long, it got on my nerves! This calls for a celebration--”
As the blade of the Scythe crashed down on the top of their table, the rest of the people nervously regarding Buffy swinging this magical weapon cringed away, with Willow then appealing to the maddened Slayer, “Buffy, please calm down! I thought you’d actually be happier about this, since you seemed to be fine with them being together--”
“It doesn’t mean I want to be Aunt Buffy several months early before any wedding!” gritted the Los Angeles native, glaring at the taken-aback redhead. Buffy’s fierce look then shifted to where a very puzzled Rupert Giles had cleared his throat in a cautious call for his former Slayer’s attention.
“Er, Buffy, just why do you think that, um, Xander and your sister might be, shall we say, moving a bit too fast in their relationship? I witnessed them acting quite decorously last night, unlike some other people here.” That last sentence was delivered along with a cold eye directed at where Faith was leaning back in her chair and smirking at all and sundry.
Buffy continued to glower at everyone, but at least she didn’t appear about to commit actual murder against anybody in her vicinity, only confining herself to an angry growl, “Yeah, I was okay with stuff like them escaping through the side door just before midnight so they could greet the New Year together in privacy, since that put them out of my sight for only five minutes or so, but I found out otherwise earlier today!”
The entire table was now staring in confusion at the woman once more beginning to lose her temper, as she further irately informed them, “I was doing my morning jog, and I went by the side of the house, where I, um….”
Now everyone was truly bewildered, as Buffy seemed to trail off in sheer embarrassment, with a real blush beginning to cover her whole face, until a rush of words burst from the Slayer while she desperately avoided her perplexed listeners’ eyes, “--saw where Xander had his name written in the snowbank there!”
Faith was the one to get it first, letting out a really obscene guffaw, to then joyously inform both the entire table and her sister Slayer, “Hell, B, from what you told me, it snowed only once ever in Sunnyhell where Xander grew up, plus he spent all that time in Africa where the only ice around was in freezers! It probably never occurred to him until last night to try out what every guy I ever knew in my hometown did at least once as a kid, pissin’ in the snow while tracin’ out their name! Don’t see how that makes you so mad at him and Dawnie!”
Buffy Summers then furiously shrieked at the top of her lungs: “BECAUSE HIS
NAME WAS IN HER
Author’s Note: This story is an adaptation from the book ‘Pissing in the Snow and Other Ozark Folktales’ by Vance Randolph. I found this collection of hilarious stories in a college library years ago, and the title yarn always stuck with me. You can read more of those accounts by Googling the above book’s title!