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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of BTVS. I like to play with their lives though. They of course belong to Joss Whedon and Co.
Authors Note: If I had know how this would blossom when my daughter asked me to write that first fanfic, I might have had second thoughts. Nah, I love to write and the web page is fun, but it can also be work.
It's been a long day, I've done way too much housework. But that what a divorce mother of three does on her days off, that and work on her webpage! Which I tried to do this morning. As I was typing the final page of the html draft, I accidentally pressed some phantom button that sent my whole story to cyberheaven before I had saved on word of it. I gave up, I went and ran errands and chauffeured kids, like a normal person.
With the kids all deposited elsewhere, I sat down to relax. I got back in front of the computer and read some stuff, I noticed that someone had called my web page an up and coming site. Ohh! I had the big head for about two minutes, until I stepped into the dog throwup on the carpet. That brought me back to reality quickly. I decided to watch tv for awhile.
I turned on "The Pretender", this is my sisters favorite show. She teases me for watching "Buffy", she thinks this is a more adult show. Remind me to ask her how this "Broots" guy got hired by these super smart centre people.
I watch the show and decide to go work on a story. A Buffy and Spike story, I've been ignoring that part of the site. I am having trouble with an idea, so I go get a glass of coca-cola and a handful of oreos. This is for inspiration.
I am seriously trying to put something down on paper, when I am interrupted by a "Hello, Michelle". This is very odd, because I am alone in the house. It gets odder, when I look up Xander Harris is in my bedroom. "Okay, I didn't even have a margarita tonight. I have watched one too many episodes of Buffy" I think to myself. I am definitely over the edge here.
I decide it can't hurt to talk to him, I quietly say "Hello, and why are you here? And how do you know my name?" I know this is a stupid question, I have a fictional character in my bedroom and I want to know how he knows my name.
"You are A. Price, right? How did you get that from Michelle?" he asks me.
"Oh, my first name is Andra and my maiden name is Price." I realize I am explaining my name to a piece of fiction. Can this night get weirder?
"Oh. Well, I'm here because of those No Regrets Stories you write for your site . I really like them. I mean I get Buffy, we even have kids and a nice life. Keep up the good work!" he says with a smile.
"Thanks" I say shyly. Thinking to myself that he hasn't read the whole series. "Um, Xander, did you read the last story I put up in that series?"
"No, not yet. Why?" he ask curiously.
"I read it" says another voice that enters my bedroom. It can't be, but it is, Angel is now in my room. When I regain my composure, I ask him "You read my story? And I didn't invite you in."
"Michelle, I think the very prescence of Xander and I in your bedroom pretty much proves that all rules are off for the night." he says with that perfect smile.
Then he adds "Yes, I read your story and thanks."
"Your welcome" I say happily. I know hes happy he ended up with Buffy.
Xander looks at me "Whoa, if Dead Boy is happy about this story it can't be good news for me"
I look at him apologetically "I'm sorry Xander, but you, well you died. But you got to be married for over 30 years and you even had grandchildren." I am feeling a little bad for him.
"Let me guess" he says annoyed "I die and he gets my wife." he says as he points at Angel.
"I'm afraid so" I answer him.
Angel smiles at him and says "Yep, she ends up with me. But its okay I take very good care of her."
I am beginning to feel quite comfortable with my company. I don't know why they are here, but they are. I have to ask "So, have you read any of my other fanfic?" I write, so I crave feedback from wherever I can get it.
They look at each other then Xander speaks, "Yes, we've read it and we have a question about that Buffy/Spike stuff."
"Come on, Buffy would never fall for Spike" says Angel full of disbelief, maybe some jealousy mixed in.
"And why not?" asks another voice entering my bedroom. This one has a British accent. It is of course Spike. I am not quite as comfortable with the new visitor. Also its getting crowded in my bedroom!
Oh well! This can't get stanger so I get braver and ask "What can I do for you Spike?"
"I like those stories with me and Buffy. Dru hates them but that slayer is a cutie." he directs the last part at Angel.
He then adds "By the way Dru has noticed that when you write about her you always mention her sanity." he said with a raised eyebrow.
"You mean lack of sanity" the words are out of my big mouth before I think. Xander and Angel laught out loud. Spike gives us all a look.
"Spike, Buffy would never fall for you" says Angel with a slight bit of arrogance. I like Angel I really do, but I wrote those stories and they seem right to me (of course, I am entertaining fictional characters in my home!)
I look around my bedroom, Angel and Xander are on the foot of my bed. Spike is in the rocker. I realize I have three guys in my bedroom. I think that if my mind worked that way this could turn into a NC-17 fic. But I just blush at the thought and decide I need to get them out of here, before I have to explain there prescence to my children.
"Guys, I don't mean to rush you, but I am really tired, and there is this story I am working on. And besides I don't have a clue how to explain you to my kids if they come home." I tell them hesitantly.
Angel speaks first "We do need to leave you now. By the way Buffy and I love those short happy fics you write about us, especially the one with the love poems and quotes. But will you please think about those Buffy/Spike things, for me?"
Xander gets up from the bed "You get some sleep, and write something happy for me, okay?" he says sweetly. "Maybe I should have let him live a little longer in that story" I think to myself.
"Come on Spike" says Angel as they head for the door.
"Goodnight Ducks, keep writing those stories" he says with a smile. Then he leans in and whispers "Dru is nuts, your right!" he laughs and walks out with the others.
I get up and check to make sure my door is locked. Its as if no one else has been here. I go back to my bed and ask myself "What just happened here?" As I settle under my blankets, I think to myself "I know writers get close to their characters, but this is ridiculous!"
The End