A/N: I know the title is damning, but it isn't what you're thinking. It really, really, REALLY isn't what you're thinking. There is ZERO sex in this Omake. Seriously, it ISN'T that kind of story. A/N2: Also, I cannot possibly stress how non-canon this is. The characters in this Omake are NOT indicative of their counterparts in the main story, nor are any Charms or Virtue Flaws shown. Any relation between this short and later chapters is purely coincidental/accidental. Also, this Omake is entirely rule of funny, so any Charms which are inaccurately portrayed, consider them Stunts approved by the storyteller, i.e. me. Thought: What if Buffy and Angel were to Limit Break at the same time? Angel's Virtue Flaw: Compassion: Curse of the Mother Hen. Buffy's Virtue Flaw: Conviction: Deliberate Cruelty. Result: Just...just read it. I can't do it justice otherwise. –Start Short–
Spike sat in Giles' comfy couch, a pint of warm blood with Weetabix on the lamp stand beside him, his feet comfortably stretched out on the coffee table in front of him, a taped episode of Passions playing on the screen and the full moon shining in through the open windows. Even with the damn curse Ripper had hit him with, he had to admit, life was getting pretty cozy.
Then the door slammed open with a bang, and Angel stormed in from the cold midnight air, a twitchy, wide-eyed expression on his face. Spike turned his gaze back to the screen. Peaches was always upset about something these days. He chuckled to himself as he raised his drink to his lips, an amusing thought occurring to him. 'Must be that time of the mo-'
he started to think, before Angel's powerful grip grabbed him by the collar and hauled him off of the couch, making him spill his blood all over himself.
“Dirty!” Angel snapped at him, holding him aloft by the neck, golden eyes roaming over Spike's bloodstained shirt and crumb-covered lap.
“Yeah, you bloody moron, you made me spill my-”
“Dirty, dirty dirty!” Angel muttered, dropping Spike only to grab him by the forearm and drag him off towards the hall.
“What are you doing-” Spike began indignantly, but Angel's answer cut him off.
“You're dirty, being dirty gives you germs, germs make you sick, you kill germs with soap, so I'm going to give you a bath! With soap!”
Spike's eyes widened in sudden panic as Angel opened the bathroom door and shoved him inside.
“Look, mate,” he tried to calm the Lunar down, raising his hands protectively, “I know we used to mess around, but that was a long-”
“Clothes off!” Angel ordered sharply as he started running the water, turning his back to Spike, who, naturally, took the opportunity to make a break for the exit, only to run into-
“Okay, now how the fuck-
” Spike demanded as he staggered back from Angel, who was suddenly blocking the exit.
“Clothes off,” Angel stated flatly, “Now.
Spike gulped reflexively. This was quickly spiraling out of control. Angel took a determined step forward, and Spike nearly fainted in relief as he heard a car door slam in the drive way. Ripper could help him! –Buffy–
Buffy slammed the door of her mother's car hard enough to dent the metal. Stupid Dawn and her stupid friends, inviting stupid vampire pizza boys
into the stupid
house! And, of course, it's Buffy's fault, because Buffy was enjoying a nice bath, instead of listening to gossipy teenage girls ordering pizza with her mom's credit card. Everything was always
“Universe's whipping girl,”
she muttered to herself as she stomped up the steps to Giles' house. She'd just crash here tonight. Stupid mom couldn't take a stupid joke about her stupid fat thighs! The woman was a twig, it was obvious
that she was kidding! And Dawn being so damn sensitive about nicknames! Nobody appreciated how hard she had to work to come up with 'Dawn Summers, Skeleton Key of Creation!'. Although, to be fair, she honestly hadn't worked that hard. Still, that wasn't her
“Stupid family and their stupid feelings,” Buffy muttered, although a dark smile stretched across her face at her mother's shocked expression. With a kick, Buffy smashed the door to Giles' house open and stalked inside, and promptly hear Angel and Spike swearing, the latter screaming for help. She sighed, and then moved towards the bathroom. Her work was never done.
“Oh, what the fuck-
” she exclaimed as she tried to absorb what she was seeing. A shirtless, vamped-out Spike, on his back sideways in the half-full tub, kicking at a soaking wet Angel, who was apparently trying to wrestle Spike's pants off.
“Buffy, I need your help!” Angel yelled over Spike's cursing as the blond vampire caught a lucky hit to Angel's head, “Spike's not letting me take his clothes off for his bath!”
“Buffy, for God's sake, help!” Spike shouted, “He's trying to make me take my clothes off for a bath!”
Buffy stood silent for a moment, and then a truly wicked grin began to grow on her face. This
was what lemons and life were all about.
“Well, we can't have that,” she declared, rolling up imaginary sleeves for effect, “Spike, let's get those pants off!”
“Bloody hell, not you too!” he moaned as the Solar closed in to help his assailant. –Xander–
Xander pulled up to Giles house, and sure enough, Joyce's car was there. Giles had called him a bit ago to tell him to check on Buffy, who had apparently stolen her mom's car to stay over at Giles' after a fight, and Giles was worried about Spike's safety, given the vampire's ability to provoke Buffy into a murderous rage when she was in a good
mood. However, Giles was out doing something for the Sidereals, so it fell to Xander to go calm Buffy down, and sweep up Spike's ashes, if he was lucky.
As he walked up the to the door, though, he noticed something off. For one thing, the door wasn't connected to the doorway. For another, there was a surprising amount of British swearing coming from inside. Xander sighed. And he'd brought along his special “Spike's dead for good” dustpan along, too.
As he walked in though, he realized that the screams were coming from he bathroom, along with splashing. A sinking feeling appeared in his stomach, before he pushed away those thoughts. No way
was Buffy bathing with Spike, there had
to be an alternative explanation.
With a sense of growing trepidation, he walked into the bathroom, and saw-
“What the fuck-”
he began to exclaim, as he saw Angel holding Spike in a headlock as Buffy tried to take his belt off, but Spike cut him off.
“Xander, run and get help!” he screamed, “They're trying to bathe me!”
Angel's gaze turned to meet Xander, who had a moment to experience true terror before- “Unclean!”
Giles dropped out of a portal he'd slipped into after performing Yellow Path a few moments ago, landing in the middle of his lawn with a thud. It had been over half an hour, and Xander had yet to call him, and something felt extremely wrong with the situation. Hurriedly, he picked himself up, brushing grass and dirt from his sleeves and pant legs.
“Well, that was remarkably efficient,” he muttered, before the cries for help reached his ears. Without further pause, he ran inside, towards the bathroom to find-
“What the in the bloody fuck-”
he exclaimed, before pausing, unable to finish with anything that could possibly explain his feelings further.
What he was seeing was a hog-tied Xander lying beneath a shattered sink, water pouring over him, a very blank expression on his face, while Buffy and Angel were being fended off by a plunger wielding Spike clad in only his socks and underpants, an expression of wild-eyed panic on his face as he turned to Giles from the corner he'd been backed into.
“Yeah, that's pretty much what I said,” Xander informed him flatly.
“Giles, run!” Spike shouted as he clubbed Angel over the head with the plunger, only to be promptly disarmed and tackled by Buffy. “Save yourself!”
the blond vampire shrieked.
“Too late,” Xander sighed, “He noticed you.”
Giles experienced a moment of confusion, followed by a moment of utterly horrifed comprehension, before- “Unclean!” –Quentin Travers–
The ancient Sidereal master stepped regally out of a large limo in front of Giles house. The man had slipped into a portal perhaps an hour ago, and Travers' Charms told him that the man was here. Travers was instantly wary upon stepping towards the house, however, as he sensed tremendous amounts of Essence being expended, along with shouts and cries for help. Several mortal police cars were parked haphazardly on the lawn, and the door to the house had been kicked open. He deftly slipped inside, towards the room that the noises were coming from, along with a large puddle of water. Quentin readied his most potent Charms as he stepped around the door, and- “
What the fuck
-” he began, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. A fully clothed mortal teen was hogtied beneath a broken, shattered sink that was the source of the water. An entirely naked, sulking demon-faced vampire was bound by hand-cuffs on both hands and feet, his legs sticking out over the edge of the overflowing tub, while he only living Lunar Exalted rubbed suds into his bleached-blond hair. Four mortal police officers sat back to back, still mostly clothed aside from their bullet-proof vests, which had been tossed into a corner, with the only living Dawn-Caste Solar one-handedly pouring bucket after bucket of soapy water on their heads, giggling madly as she did so, while poking a mop up at the ceiling with her other hand. Quentin glanced up, and saw her target: a shirtless Giles hanging from the roof by the tips of his fingers and toes, dodging poke after poke. Quentin's associate caught sight of him. “Run, run and get help, they've gone mad!”
the Chosen of Secrets screamed. Unfortunately for Quentin, it was at that moment that the Solar and Lunar turned their gazes to him, and he barely had time to scream before, as one, they shouted- “Unclean!” –End Omake– And this, children, is why you don't smoke crack, do heroine and drink straight LSD at the same time. Wait, what I meant to say was: Drugs are bad, m'kay?