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Communication Barriers

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Summary: Various ficlets for the Fic-For-All. Chap. 6 - Totally, Like, a Valley Pig

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Multiple Pairings > Ficlet Collections - FFACameronFR1563,817074,03019 Sep 0522 Sep 05No

Totally, Like, a Valley Pig

Totally, Like, a Valley Pig


FFA pairing: 1894 (Mr. Gordo/Sigmund)

Disclaimer: BtVS – not mine. Anita Blake – that would also be not mine. Anything else that you recognize, not mine.



This had the makings of a great day. He finally had the house to himself, and Cherry and Zane had accidentally left the TV on. The Springer show was only minutes away from starting. He loved that show because it was the only thing he knew that was more confusing and chaotic than real life. As the last commercial ended, and the show started, he sighed in contentment. Life was good. Just as the first guest was brought out, a flash of light blinded him. Sulfurous smoke filled the room. He knew his first thought should have been ‘what just happened here?’ but instead he hoped that the smoke didn’t set off the fire alarms – Anita would not be pleased if the sprinklers went off again.

When the smoke cleared, the only change that he could see was that a small stuffed pig now rested on Cherry’s favorite pillow.

"Greetings, friend. My name is Sigmund. I’m the first of Miss Anita’s penguins. Where did you come from, and may I be of any help?"

"Dude! That was, like, such a, like, tubular ride. Like, it totally rocked my world, ya know?"

"Pardon, sir?"

"Like, you know, that was a totally like bitchin’ ride. Willow is like a totally awesomeish witch. She’s, like, super-super super. Totally."

"That’s … nice. What’s your name, sir, and why are you here?"

"So, Buffy like totally loves the name Mr. Gordo, but ewwwww… That’s totally squarish. Like, gag me with a spoon! You can call me, like, Gord. Gord sounds like totally bitchin’. And Willow wanted to just send you a message, like on a phone or something else totally geekified, but Buffy was ‘no way’ and Willow was ‘way’ and Buffy was ‘no way’…"

Sigmund couldn’t take anymore. He was an old penguin, and he just didn’t understand the younger generation. "Stop! I think I understand. What was the message that Miss Buffy and Miss Willow wanted you to carry to me?"

"Um, like let me think a minute. Oh my gawd, I so cannot, like, think under this kind of pressure. Not tubular, dude."

Sigmund sighed and mentally counted to ten. "How about you sit over there – quietly, I might add – and think about it. Don’t say anything until you remember it."

"Like, this couch is grody to the max! Do I hafta?"

"You may sit on the chair if you like, just as long as you’re quiet."

Gord glared at him, but luckily kept his mouth shut.

. . . . . . . . . .

Three hours had passed without any comment from the pig. Sigmund had watched his shows and had a nap before Gord said anything.

"Like, Sigmund?"

"Yes, Gord?"

"I think I finally got the message right. It was something about a vampire doing, like, something bad, at midnightish?"

"A vampire doing something bad? Will wonders never cease to amaze me? Can you remember anything else, such as the vampire’s name, what he’s going to do and where, anything of any value?"

"Um… well, here. Duh. Why else would Willow send me here if the big bad was going to be, like, someplace else? Um… I think his name was Diana or something else like totally bogus for a guy."

"Would that be Damien by any chance?"

"Sure, why not?"

Sigmund felt like beating his head against the wall. He longed for the days when youngsters were valued for being seen and not heard. "What was Damien going to do, Gord?"

"Like, we’re somewhat clueless. Buffy had, like, a slayerish dream where she saw that Diana dude, like, biting Anita or something – maybe it was kissing her, she’s not sure, but whatever. She had, like, a total freakout. But beyond that? I dunno."

Sigmund calmed down considerably. Miss Buffy had probably just misunderstood. Everything would be ok. But just to make sure, he’d better put a guard on Damien.

. . . . . . . . . .

Anita stared at the stuffed pig in confusion. Where had that toy come from? It wasn’t hers, and none of her pard had stuffed pigs either. Maybe Jason had dropped it off as a gag gift. She didn’t want to leave it just sitting on the chair. Someone might accidentally sit on it and smush it. She picked it up, and was going to place it on the armoire, but for some reason she didn’t fully understand, she carried it out of the room with her.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Anita?" The vampire looked confused.

She hid her smile as she answered him. "Yes, Damien?"

"Why did I awake to find a stuffed pig resting on my chest?"

"You did?" She had to bit her cheek to keep from laughing.

He frowned. "I’m afraid I don’t understand the significance of giving me a stuffed animal."

"What makes you think that I did that?"

"The toy’s fur still carries the scent of your perfume."

"Hmmm. That is odd."

"Anita," he growled, "I tire of this game. What does it mean?"

"Don’t give me that look, mister. And don’t growl either, it’s not nice."


She didn’t say anything, just poured herself another cup of coffee. After letting him just sit there and glower, she finally responded.

"I thought you just look like you needed a pig."

. . . . . . . . . .

Damien sat the toy on the edge of the desk. He was still unsure as to why his mistress had gifted him with a child’s stuffed animal, but he would still honor it as he would any gift from her. He looked at it for a minute before deciding what to name it.

As he exited the room, he addressed his pig as he flicked the lights off. "Fare thee well, Mistress Piggy, until we meet again."

If he’d stayed in the room another minute, he might have heard Mistress Piggy squealing in horror. "Did he, like, say what I, like, think he said? Gag me with a spoon!!! Eeewwww! What an awful name! Willoooooowwww! Like, get me out of here!!! Like, now, it’s totally grody and dark! Willooooowwww! Please! You know that I’m, like, scared of the dark. Please?"

He sighed in relief as St. Louis vanished in a puff of smoke.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Buffy, I’m so sorry." Willow pleaded with her friend.

Buffy had her arms wrapped around Mr. Gordo. "It’s ok," she whimpered as tears streaked down her face. "It’s ok. He’s back now, that’s all that matters."

"It was totally an accident."

"It’s fine, Wills. He’s back, safe and sound. I just was so worried you’d accidentally atomized him or something."

"I was trying out that spell that Tara taught me, but I was aiming at the pillow…"

Buffy interrupted her. "It’s fine. But if you feel that bad, I’m always open to bribes of chocolate chip cookies."

. . . . . . . . . .

It was, like, totally tubular to be back home where the sun, like, actually shined and the weather was, like, excellent and Buffy was holding him tight. He had missed his Buffy-shaped friend. He was a bit confused to hear Willow saying something about it being all mistake-like, but he didn’t really care. He vowed to himself he’d never complain about Buffy calling him Mr. Gordo again. He was just ecstatic that he wasn’t going to have to live out the rest of his life being called Piggy. Really, gag me with a spoon!

The End?

You have reached the end of "Communication Barriers" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 22 Sep 05.

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