You Can Never Have Enough Sugar
You Can Never Have Enough Sugar (1/?) XHD Spin-Off
Author: Tohonomike firstname.lastname@example.org
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners...it will start off with the Joss/ME characters, and any other characters or real-life folks are clearly not mine. NO money is involved.
A Mild, Upbeat, Fic That’s Pleasantly C/X eventually.
The man in the dark coat and clothes, dark long hair and amused smile, hopped along on one foot for a moment, the other raised and a little in front. He took in his surroundings without looking up, and wondered why he was back on Earth, last year had been his last permitted mission.
He felt his mortal form, weaker than usual, and shifted it to meet his needs; perhaps the fact he has on The Hell Mouth made him jumpy, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Stretching out his sense, the wrongness of the situation nearly overwhelmed him, souls of children within demonic visages and bodies, transformations smelling of Chaos.
‘Ah, Janus, it figures that one of the gods or Powers would be the ones responsible,’ these Disputed Realms had seen much devastation during the Rebellion and the Fall, many Demonics had bled into them thanks to the foolishness of Bright Star.
Michael reached into his pocket and found an empty dog collar and smiled for a moment, knowing the ‘pup’ was happy in Chicago right now. He popped the two sugar cubes into his mouth.
“Xander!” a redhead called to him as the boosts to his form completed, “I’ve been turned into a ghost!” He stared at her intently for a moment and shook his head.
“Technically, you’re a wandering soul, not yet gathered and escorted for Judgment,” he told her, “A ghost is merely the…chi without the soul, sort of an animas lacking real connection to the next plane.”
Willow looked extremely confused as Xander Harris lectured her in the nature of Being, and would have said something except that two things happened to preempt this:
Six demons of considerable size that Willow remembered reading about called Fyarls stared at Xander and growled fiercely, a sound like a dog would make if caught between fight and fright, and two, as Xander smiled at the six, a winged man of incredible beauty and huge wings seemed to flash in and drop to the street lightly in front of Michael. Noting the six, the winged being turned and spoke a single word.
“Go,” and that word seemed almost to shake the street in front of the demons, an almost-wind pushing them on their way. The being turned, smiled at Willow, and then Xander.
“Michael,” the Angel smiled in amusement, “You do seem drawn to these situations.” The power radiating off of the new arrival, in spite of Willow’s current form, was nearly too much for the girl to bear.
“I’m sorry Willow Rosenberg,” the Angel smiled, toning down to normal human ambience, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to Michael.” Turning back, he shook his head, “So how much have you kenned to so far?”
“I’ve been summoned back to Earth as the side effect of a Chaos spell empowered by a god or such,” Michael replied, “And now you show up, Gabriel.”
“Well, I was Sent, Michael,” Gabriel replied, “Though do not worry, you are not in Trouble. You are to make sure nothing Excessive occurs tonight, the Hell Mouth must not open. And unless you or those placing themselves in your care require it, do not summon your Armor or Sword, you are more than enough for this place, permeating with Chaos and Evil as it is. Oh, and if you hadn’t guessed you are actually Supplanting the mortal known as Alexander Harris, friend of Willow, here.”
“Really?” he replied, then felt his face, then nodded. He inhaled and concentrated for a moment, eyes closed, ‘Alexander?’ No response, “He doesn’t seem to be here.” Willow gasped (unnecessarily) as Gabriel shook his head slightly in disbelief until Michael understood, “Ah, we changed places, how’s he doing?”
“He’s being himself, and talking to his friend Jesse and some others lost from Sunnydale over the years.”
“Will he be allowed to remember?”
“Not specifics, only the emotions regarding the people he met, and that he was There, but he’ll remember what you do in his body.”
“Hmm,” Michael considered,” I’ll have to take care of a few things while I’m here…” Gabriel looked concerned, “The boy should have a dog, and
Maybe a ball for the dog.” Gabriel relaxed; obviously Michael had not yet acclimated.
“Anyway, I’ll see you in a few hours, brother, try not slay an army or something obvious.”
Willow was quiet for a moment, when a piercing scream interrupted her train of thought.
“That sounds like Buffy!” Willow said running toward the noise, “We must save her!” Michael smiled, looked down the street pass the cars, and leapt up, wings pushing through the slits in the overcoat. Willow turned and didn’t see him, but continued to run.
Michael lands in front of Buffy, and four demons faint as the not only watch the Archangel land in front of them, but feel the Power as he looks ready to act against them.
Buffy, shocked by the whole experience, also faints, Willow coming up at that point, speechless at the beauty of the wings. She watches as he picks up the obviously transformed girl.
“Well, your friend is safe, if more than a little worse for wear, Willow, Daughter of Ira. Our next concern should be to get you back into your body, wouldn’t want anything to make the situation permanent. Can you tell me where to go?”
Willow gave him directions, and watched as he flew off n that direction, following as fast as she could go. He set Buffy down gently.
“Okay, let’s do this the easy way, then we’ll get some donuts,” the Archangel told her, “I only have a few hours and I’d like to get a few snacks before it’s over, maybe some Twinkies with strawberries and like a pound of sugar.”
“What’s the easy way?”
“Oh, lie down in yourself, I’ll block the magic, and pull the sheet off.”
A moment later, a slightly chilled Willow got up from the ground. Michael got a good arm around Buffy, and offered the other to Willow. She raised an eyebrow.
“Hot chocolate with the donuts, you’re cold and need the warmth…come on.” He smiled while rolling his eyes, and did as he bade.
The three were flying comfortably up and toward the confectioner’s when Willow recognized a scream and told Michael he had to save Cordelia from ‘that big dog thing.’
Michael landed in front of Cordelia, who drew up short and barely managed to avoid a collision. Michael looked behind her at the huge fur ball running up.
“Chewbacca?!” Michael exclaimed, recognizing the possessor, which caused the individual to pull up short and make that noise Chewie makes as his voice.
“You know Chewbacca?” Willow asked in astonishment as Cordelia processed the situation.
“Sure, he’s just a character over here in this reality, but he’s a real person in his own,” Michael assured her and after handing an awakening Buffy to Willow, embraced his friend, “Yeah, somehow I got pulled here too, big guy. How’s Han? Twins?! Wow, I’ll have to see if the Boss will let me stop over one more time, maybe if I do something Worthy while here.”
“Excuse me?!” Cordelia interrupted, pointing at the wookie, “He’s been chasing and growling at me!” Chewie made another noise.
“Uh huh, really?” Michael responded, and gestured toward Cordelia, “Well give it to her.” Chewbacca pawed over to her, her hand bag, “He said you dropped this a few streets over and he’s been trying to get you to take it ever since.”
“Oh,” Cordelia responded, blushing deeply in embarrassment before regaining her Chase composure, and turned to the wookie, holding out her hand, “Thank you, Chewbacca, with all that’s going on I guess I’m a little jumpy.” He made two other wookie noises and headed back the way he came.
“What did he say?” Cordelia asked.
“Says you remind him of Han’s wife.”
“Oh, okay then.”
At that moment Angel the souled vampire scurried over to them from the neighbor’s yard, having missed the whole thing.
“Good!” he exhaled, “You guys are alright. It's total chaos out here.” He didn’t notice ‘Xander’ but did feel Power everywhere around him, and looked around, “Do you guys feel that? It’s not evil but we better get you to safety.”
“Safety,” Michael smiled, and walked closer to Angel, who whirled toward him and froze in place, noting the wings, “is relative, but as they seem to know what you are, hold still while I satisfy my curiosity.” The archangel’s eyes radiated white light as his hand hovered over Angel’s chest and then face, “Liam, placed back into his demon-assumed corpus, using dark magics of the Romani, so blinded by vengeance they ripped a Judgment-Pending Soul from Purgatory to torture the demon. Not bright, but effective, though they tortured a soul barely enough to Appeal.”
The Archangel turned to the soul in the vampire.
“Liam, you’ve committed yourself to fight the good fight. Remember not to be the broody vampire, though it is part of your situation, but also remember you’re not human anymore. Don’t screw it up, Believe, and I’ll see you in Heaven. Now please escort Cordelia Chase home now. I’ll take care of the others after they buy me donuts.” Michael ordered him as he grabbed the other two and flew off.
The donut shop owner was a bit surprised as he watched the three figures descend in front of the doors that in Latin above them declared ‘No Vampires Allowed,’ and enter the store.
The Lady seemed to border on apoplexy, but soon looked happily in awe of the very large assortment of donuts, cakes and other confections.
“Charlie, I’d like a dozen of your bialys rolled in brown sugar, a dozen of your sugariest chocolate frosting filled donuts, a dozen of” he turned to Willow and Buffy, “You want anything?” They pointed at a few.
“Oh, Giles likes jelly donuts, and the hot chocolates.”
“And mix up the rest like the little lady ordered,” Michael finished, smiling his own smile of impending sugar contentment. The man behind the counter stared at him closely for a minute.
“Michael?!” the sixtyish baker declared as his wife came out and told her son to finish boxing the order, then smiled at the declaration, “You look like Xander!” They embraced.
“We’re kinda time-sharing tonight, someone did some bad mojo, and not that stuff you two were doing in the sixties with John and Paul, either.”
“You staying long? Can you bless the place?”
“Sure,” he smiled and briefly glowing white all-over gestured over the place, “That oughta be good for a decade or so, nothing demonic and evil can come in or do harm.” The wife hugged him and they nodded happily remembering the last time.
“You still smell like chocolate chip cookies with a hint of cinnamon,” the older woman smiled, and as he started looking for Xander’s wallet she waved off payment, “Your money’s no good here, and for the next few visits, neither is Xander’s.”
“Well, thanks,” Michael smiled, and looked at his watch, “Hey, we gotta go see about ending the craziness, Willow Rosenberg. Charlie, Cora, great seeing you, hope you two have great lives before I see you again.”
Five minutes later, Rupert Giles was a bit put off when his locked library doors unlocked and opened on their own, and Xander Harris with wings, which quickly disappeared, entered with Buffy and Willow.
“Yuck,” Michael said with a grimace, “That Hell Mouth almost spoils my appetite…” then he smiled, reaching for the confections and hot chocolates, “Almost.” He sat at the end of the table and began to revel in the sugary calories, Giles watching in amazement as Willow brought him up to date and Xander poured several ounces of extra sugar into his drink.
“Good Lord! Xander that’s excessive!”
Michael looked up at him, smiled, gestured with a bialy from himself, to Willow, to Giles, and went back to his food-hedonism, Lady Buffy laughing like a small child at his antics enough to cram one into her own mouth since if an Archangel was doing it, it would be rude not to go along with his customs. A moment later, after Willow’s hurried explanation of the situation, Giles’ eyes went wide as he looked over to see almost the entire box of Bialys gone and an apparent Archangel and his possessed slayer burping and laughing.
“Good Lord,” he muttered.
“Hey!” Michael glared softly, “Please watch it with the ‘Good Lords’ since it’s like hailing a taxi, then deciding not to complete the transaction, Ripper.” Giles paled at his old nickname.
“Oh, I just thought through your file, you’re not doing half bad,” Michael said, talking around a chocolate frosting-filled he rolled in granulated sugar from the tea tray, “Though why you keep that offensive mark on your arm…” The angel shook his head in dismay, but gulped down another sweet, “You can never get enough sugar.”
“Well, uh, I-I’ll remove it as soon as I can,” Giles assured him.
“Excellent, other than forgetting there’s Good and not just Evil, you’re on a good path, Rupert, currently Unsentenced. You need to walk in the sun and the Light more often. Maybe take that gypsy girlfriend with you.” He sighed contentedly and stood up. “I guess I should be getting along now and ending this Chaos spell,” Michael said, then sighed theatrically, “Oh, I’m discouraged from giving the mage responsible, your old pal Ethan, a sound smack in the head…”
“Oh!” Giles responded after the shock of Ethan in town, then smiled, “I’ll handle the corrective lesson.”
“Thanks, I was hoping you would.”