Title: Always Doing the Stupid Thing
Author: Commander Bubbles
Rated: PG-13, or T, if you’re on FF.net with the stupid ratings
Genre: BtVS/Gilmore Girls
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, Fanfiction.net, anywhere else just ask.
Disclaimer: Me no owning of Buffy nor Gilmore Girls. Wouldn’t wanna own Gilmore Girls after the last couple of seasons…
A/N: He just did the stupidest thing he could ever do. Response to Jinni’s ‘When I Woke Up’ challenge.
Feedback? Yes please!
You ever had one of those days when you just know something bad is gonna come out and bite you in the ass? Yeah, I’m getting one of those feelings. Major-time. Really wiggy.
Now, I’m known for my stupidity, but I get the feeling that I’ve really done something incredibly stupid at the moment. Stupider than leaving Anya at the altar. Stupider than never telling her how I felt until she was dead. Stupider than being in that stupid library all those years ago and overhearing Giles and Buffy talk about the wigginess over the death.
Stupider than taking on Darth-Willow alone with nothing but my stupid self, head on.
I have a really bad feeling about this. Really bad. And add a slayer-strength hangover on top of that. Ow. Either that or I went head-to-head with Glory, the Master, the First, Caleb, Judge and Mayor Wilkins and lost. Because I’ve got one fucking large headache.
However, since can currently feel my right eye in my socket, I do know that Caleb is in fact, still dead and buried in Sunnydale, sliced in two with the Buff-ster’s scythe.
But I’ve still got this nagging feeling that I did something really stupid last night.
Of course, if we’re dealing with myself, it’s a given I did something stupid.
But that’s besides the point.
I need to open my eye, see what I did.
See if I’m going to be sliced, diced, and julienned by Giles.
I still have a bad feeling about this though.
Alright Xan-man, gather up that famous courage you’re known for and see what torture is going to be inflicted upon you today. You had no shortage of courage when you faced down Darth-Willow, or maybe that was just stupidity and luck. In any case, summon it up and open up your eye.
Alright. That wasn’t so bad, now was it? Except…I’m not in my hotel room. Dammit, I told Willow and Buffy that getting drunk in Vegas was not a good idea!
Alright, don’t panic…why is my arm numb? As if there’s something…oh dear lord tell me I didn’t pull a Faith and have a one-night-stand again with someone I don’t know! Black hair…dear lord tell me it wasn’t Faith herself! No…too short to be Faith. Oh, this is definitely not of the good. I’d imagine that if Giles were here he’d be clucking that tweedy british tongue of his and saying ‘dear lord’ or ‘oh dear’ and cleaning those dorky british glasses of his.
I’ve already done that.
Great, next thing you know I’ll be spouting ‘bloody sodding wanker’ like Spike and have a strange fondness for ancient books.
Alright, no panicking, at least not until your…bed partner…is awake. It’s bad form. Wait. Is that a…
Please GOD no.
Tell me that isn’t a wedding band on my left ring finger.
Oh, things just got infinitely worse.
Oh, I did something incredibly stupid, even for me.
I told them going out drinking was a bad idea, dammit!
Well. Let’s get a better look at her, shall we? Dear god, I don’t even know her name.
She’s short, that’s for damn sure, she only barely comes up to my chest. Long black hair, not hard on the eyes. I’ve got better tact than to oogle her nakedness, but great googly-moogly; she’s not bad in the body department. Looks vaguely Asian, and she’s got a few colored streaks in her hair, but I can’t tell if they’re extensions or not.
All in all, I could do a lot worse.
But I couldn’t be any stupider.
Especially not because there’s a matching gold ring on her own left ring finger.
Holy. Frigging. Shit. I did get married last night.
And what’s worse, I can’t remember any of it. Not even her name.
Oh, Giles is going to tear me a new one.
That is, if Willow and Buffy don’t first.
Dear god in heaven, if you’re listening, answer my prayers and tell me why I let my two former best girls talk me into ‘having a few drinks’. Because trust me, they’re about to die. Horribly. Either that or I will. And so help me god, I will never drink another drop of alcohol as long as I live. Oh wait, I promised myself that when I was thirteen years old after another one of dad’s drunken rages. That’s right.
Curse you, Buffy and Willow, just, you know, not in the literal ‘I put a curse/hex/spell’ on you. Cuz that’s, you know, not of the good. That would be a DarthWillow thing to do. Or a VampireWillow thing to do. Not a good, non-evil, Xander thing to do.
Oh, this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.