His temples throbbed and his stomach felt like it was trying to dig its way out of his body to run off to the bathroom on its own. In short, Wesley Wyndham-Price wanted desperately to die. He had drank so much the night before that he wouldn't have been surprised that when he opened his eyes he'd be dead and laying outside the gates of Heaven. Hopefully Saint Peter has a supply of Aspirin. Wesley tried to remember what happened the night before but everything was hazy.
He remembered starting the night off with scotch, and going shot for shot with Spike and Anya. Then Anya said something about... something... and Spike disappeared and... he was talking with someone... Giles maybe. He couldn't remember.
Wesley ran a hand over his face then cracked an eye open. He was relieved to find himself in his bedroom. However a wave of nausea overcame him and he clenched his eyes shut and rode out the cold sweat that followed. Why on Earth did he allow himself to drink as much as he must have? He had done his fair share of drinking as a student but he'd always maintained control.
Wesley was surprised when the bed shifted and an arm draped across his chest. Wesley looked down at the hair covered forearm. HAIR COVERED? "OH! DEAR! GOD!" Despite a hangover that would split God's head, Wesley leapt out of the bed.
The other occupant of the bed shielded their eyes and rolled away, revealing his naked backside. He looked at the graying hair and broad shoulders. He had slept with Rupert Giles. He looked down at himself... yes, of course he was naked. There weren't many options for what two drunken naked men might do in a bed, so the obvious conclusion. "Sweet Mother of All That's Holy, I slept with a man!" What Rupert said.
Wesley slumped down onto the bed and sighed. "Well..."
Rupert was dejectedly searching the room for his boxers, finally finding them he pulled them on for some sense of decency. Finally he reached out to the bedside table for his glasses, and his hand collided with Wesley's. They both jerked their hands away. Finally, he reached his hand out again and took his glasses. There was an increasingly tense silence as the two men lamented on what they had done.
Wesley suddenly broke the silence, "You seduced me!"
Rupert turned around wide eyed and reddening with anger. "Are you daft man? You seduced me!"
"I did no such thing! I was intoxicated and seduced by a man several years my senior."
Rupert suppressed the urge to leap across the bed and strangle Wesley. "Let's come to a compromise and decide our judgment was extremely affected and be done with that."
Wesley nodded nervously, there was another long silence before Wesley groaned, "This is how stereotypes about British men get started you know?"
Rupert turned towards Wesley, "Do shut up."
"Quite."
Angel was enjoying the comfort of sleep. His body nestled comfortably within layers of silk. It was the first good night's sleep he had since the whole fiasco with Darla and he intended to let it drag on into the late afternoon. "Angel?"
Angel smiled and replied, "Hmm?"
"Angel?"
A woman's voice... slightly familiar too. "Yeah?"
"You're still Angel?"
Angel shrugged, "Yeah..."
He heard sniffling and then he felt a small head bury itself in his chest, "Ohmoohmo!"
Angel finally sat up and looked down to see the top of Anya's head as she wept. Angel immediately went into comfort mode. "Hey, hey shh! It's okay Anya, it's okay. Shh... What's wrong?"
Anya pulled her face from Angel's chest, and Angel gently wiped her tears away. "You're still Angel... And that means I didn't please you, and now I have to question my prowess as a lover. I mean, sure I was a little inebriated. But I was always very skilled at making Xander climax... Now don't get me wrong, I like you very much and from what I hear Angelus was very mean, but still I feel rather saddened that I couldn't give you a moment of pure Bliss. Does this mean Buffy is a better lover Angel?"
Angel sighed, "Anya it's okay. Buffy didn't break my curse because of her skill as a lover, it was the right situation for us. You and I don't have that kind of connection yet."
Anya sniffled and looked up, "We don't?"
Angel shook his head, "No... It took Buffy and I two years to reach that point. You and I had one night."
Anya sniffled again, "But I was skilled as a lover?"
Angel suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Since he met Anya the night before, she constantly came straight out of left field. He smiled and was overcome by the urge to bury his face in her hair and press his lips against her head. "Yes Anya, you were very skilled."
He heard and felt Anya giggle, "Would you like to have sex again?"
Angel shrugged, "Okay. But Anya?"
Anya moved so she was straddling Angel, "Yes?"
Angel looked at her in a questioning manner, "You and Xander broke up, right?"
Anya smiled, "Yes. I would never cheat on anyone."
Angel nodded, "Good, cause I saw him leave pretty early in the night. I just wouldn't want to cause a fight between you two, so I wanted to make sure he didn't leave angry."
Anya laughed, "I think Xander left with some company so he couldn't have been too upset..."
Xander's stomach was a twisted mess of slithering snakes and Jell-o in an earthquake. He felt a cold sweat break out on his skin and his mouth felt as though it were stuffed with cotton. But all that paled in comparison to the headache, his temples pounded and his brain felt like it was trying to shatter his skull from the inside. So much for the magic hangover pills he bought at the liquor store when he and Giles bought the second batch of alcohol. Xander had a vague memory of licking Jagr of some woman's cleavage and doing body shots with. with. "Oh God no!"
Xander felt cold fingers gently massage his temples, "How does my Kitten feel?" Then Xander felt bare thighs wrap around his waist and he was pulled back against Dru's, rather nice feeling chest. Without realizing it, he nestled back into Drusilla's gentle soothing touch. Drusilla purred in his ear, "Oh Kitten, you are so very warm. Have you recovered from your dance with the demon alcohol?"
Xander groaned, "No, I do believe that the drinks have soundly kicked my ass."
Xander heard Drusilla's sympathetic sigh and it felt rather comforting. "My poor Precious, Mummy can feel your pain floating off of you, it makes Miss Edith very sorry."
Xander was now soundly relaxed by Dru's gentle touch and his curiosity was piqued when Drusilla said Miss Edith was sorry, "Why is Miss Edith sorry?"
"Because it was her idea for Mummy to feed you drinks."
Xander laughed lightly, "Oh come on Dru, if I'm remembering this right, I was already tanked by the time you brought me the Jagr..." Xander suddenly paled, and considering he was pale to begin with, he almost matched the white sheets of the bed. "Wait a second, we're naked aren't we?"
Drusilla giggled, then one hand slid casually and gently down his cheek and over his chest causing Xander to shiver and groan and his already rigid morning erection to twitch instinctively. A low seductive growl rolled in the back of the vampiress' throat, "Why Precious, if I'm not mistaken, we are." She trailed her cold fingers over his chest and Xander hissed when her explorations found a wound from the previous night's. festivities. "Oh, Mummy found some of her scratches..." Her voice took on an even more husky quality as she growled in his ear. "Kitten liked it when we played rough and acted naughty. He even bit Mummy's shoulder, see?" Drusilla gently turned Xander's cheek and showed him an already mostly healed bruise in the shape of his bite mark.
Xander sighed, "Fantastic! I get drunk and turn into not only a necrophiliac, no offense Dru," Drusilla just smiled at Xander, obviously not caring that Xander had referred to her as a corpse, "But it turns out that drunken Xander likes it rough. Were there midgets involved? Cause that would make this perfect!" It was that moment that a rather loud and obnoxious snore broke Xander's self-loathing and an arm crashed into his lap. Xander clenched his eyes shut, "God, if you're there, just don't let that arm belong to a midget, please, you've had too much fun at my expense all these years to do that too! You have! Oh, and not Spike either!"
The body the arm was attached to stirred and the person(?) mumbled in their sleep. Xander's eyes snapped opened at the familiar voice, he looked down and found Cordelia laying face down buried in the pillow. He then noticed some things, Cordelia was naked, and she had a new tattoo or two. One on the exposed part of her butt which was his name and the one on her shoulder blade, "'I 'heart' D and D?' Cordy plays Dungeons and Dragons?"
Drusilla laughed, "No Kitten, she means Mummy and Grandmummy!"
Xander's eyes widened, "Wait! Do you mean Darla?" As though she had been waiting for this moment to enter the room, Darla staggered somewhat drunkenly from the bathroom wearing only Xander's "Clerks" T-shirt.
Xander watched as Darla crawled into the bed and nestled herself against Xander and heard her sigh, "Mmm... warm..."
Xander couldn't seem to think correctly. But eventually he did the math, yesterday he started out with only an ex-girlfriend, and it appeared he started out today having had sex with beyond the shadow of a doubt three of the hottest women he could think of. It was pretty simple, God didn't hate Alexander L. Harris as much as he she or it had previously let on. Xander felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth and despite a splitting headache Xander went back to sleep a very happy man.
Tara's eyes fluttered open and she looked around the darkened hotel room. Her hair obscured most of her view. She raked her fingers through her hair pushing it out of her face. She yawned and rolled towards the middle of the bed. She yelped when she found the other occupant. Oz's eyes snapped open and the pair merely stared at each other in silence.
After what seemed like an hour, Tara managed to stammer out, "H-h-hi."
Oz nodded, "Hi." Another silence followed. Oz then broke the silence, "This is rather awkward."
Tara laughed lightly, "Yeah. Okay, I'm ah... I'm going to go back to sleep now."
Oz nodded, "Me too." The pair rolled away from each other and went back to sleep.
Willow was jolted awake by her sudden impact with the floor. Her head was pounding and she was very uncomfortable because of some object poking into her ribs. She groped blindly at the object and grasped it in numbed fingers. She then pulled the object out of its discomfort causing resting place. She then cracked an eye and inspected the object. It was a knee high red vinyl platform heeled boot. She sighed in annoyance and spoke mostly into the carpet, "Tara... I thought I told you I didn't like to play 'Trashy Hooker/Catholic Schoolgirl anymore?!"
Willow was annoyed when she didn't get a response, "Tara? Tara!" Finally, Willow summoned the strength to peel herself off the floor. She looked around the dorm. "This isn't my dorm room?" She looked down and quickly turned crimson, "I'm naked! Why am I in the naked?"
She frantically searched the motel room and found a miniskirt that was most definitely not Tara's, and she couldn't remember buying it. She bent over to grab it and. quickly jumped up at the sudden invasion of fabric to a very sensitive place. She grasped at the fabric and noticed that she was wearing a rather flimsy G-string, the underwear of choice of Springer women everywhere. She quickly found some of her jeans, a T-shirt and a pair of her underwear and changed.
In more comfortable clothing, Willow quickly searched the motel room for Tara but couldn't find her. Willow sighed and sank down on the motel room bed, she quickly jumped up when something poked her butt. "What the Hell?"
Willow searched the bed clothes and found a first place trophy. She found the inscription and blanched at it before reading it aloud. "First place. Miss Lap Dance Los Angeles?" Willow promptly feinted.
Spike's eyes opened to a strange site on the television. Four differently colored blob-like fuzzy... things with white bellies were running around and speaking in high pitched voices. He narrowed his eyes at the television as if trying to force it to change by force of will. When the television did no such things and the blobs continued ranting about sharing or some other nonsense Spike became annoyed.
He tried to find something useful to turn off the set like a remote or a gun, but that was a mistake. Because when he moved his head, it threatened to fall off and roll around on the floor before exploding. The vampire clutched his head as he was bombarded with more pain than his chip could ever cause. "Oh Bloody Hell! Where's the Slayer so she can put me out of my misery?"
Spike suddenly felt the bed move and his chest was scorched by body heat and Buffy's voice bombarded his sensitive ears. "Now why would I do that, William?"
Spike cracked his eyes open and found Buffy's eyes twinkling down at him, "Slayer?"
Buffy smiled down at him devilishly, "That wasn't what you were calling me last night."
"What?"
Buffy's fingers slid through his hair and she laughed lightly, "You don't remember Spike? You don't remember 'oh Buffy, oh Buffy!' none of that?"
Spike clenched his eyes shut, desperately trying to pull the memories out of his alcohol destroyed brain, none were coming. He'd drank so much he'd blacked out. Hell, he had drank so much that if Buffy wasn't lying, he'd have been amazed he'd gotten it up. "Not really."
Buffy laughed lightly, "Oh my poor William, he chases after me, he helps out, he changes his nature, he shows me his poetry, then he can't remember the night he's been dreaming about for months."
Spike was about to reply when Buffy began to place her lips on random locations on his chest. He racked his brain, but was still coming up with nothing. Then something Buffy said brought horror bubbling up from the core of his being, "Uh, Pet?"
Buffy paused in her explorations, "Yes?"
Spike prayed to Satan herself that he had heard Buffy wrong, "Did you say I showed you my poetry last night?"
Buffy smiled brightly, "Yep."
Spike slapped his forehead and tried to will himself to burst into flames, "Oh no!"
Buffy laughed lightly, "I've got to say, it was sweet."
Spike looked at Buffy, dumbfounded, "You liked them?"
"Oh God no! They were horrid, but they were personal, and from the heart and they were you, so the gesture was absolutely romantic."
Buffy smiled and nestled herself into his side, after a moment Spike wrapped his arm around Buffy. There was a silence in which Spike merely reveled in being with Buffy. He let his eyes fall closed and he said. "I love you Buffy." His eyes came open when he felt Buffy pull away, "I know you might not think it's real 'cause I don't have a human soul, but I know its true."
Buffy nodded for a while, "Spike... William, I won't lie. I don't love you right now, but I definitely believe that I could, especially when you say things like that."
Spike eventually felt a smile pull at his lips, "I'm wearing you down Slayer."
Buffy just rolled her eyes and nestled against Spike again, saying. "Yeah, I guess you are."
Dawn popped out of bed after a restful night's sleep with every intention of enjoying a long Saturday of vegging out in the living room in front of the TV. She had already taken a shower the night before (because some people might be offended if a fourteen year old girl was showering, even implied showering during the course of this story, so I made it a preamble to the story) so she trotted down the stairs in her plaid PJ pants and T-shirt.
Dawn entered the kitchen and reached into the cabinet and retrieved her cereal bowl. She then grabbed a box of Cap'n Crunch and filled her bowl. She then opened the fridge and grabbed the milk. She filled her bowl with milk and replaced the milk into the fridge. Grabbing a spoon, Dawn quickly exited the kitchen to make her way to the living room and why wouldn't she eat her cereal in the living room? Buffy was in LA with her friends and she was fourteen, practically an adult, so she could handle cereal in the living room.
She entered the living room and stopped at the scene before her. That being of three people unconscious in her living room. All she could think to say was, "Why is Blink 182 passed out in the living room?"
Dawn sat at the dinner table with Mark, Tom, and Travis looking between the three while she played with the edge of the table cloth nervously. Mark Tom and Travis, looked like they had spent the previous night "Partying Like Rock Stars." Which Dawn wouldn't be surprised if they did, after all... they WERE rock stars.
After a seemingly endless silence, Dawn broke the silence with, "So, do you guys wake up in strange people's house often?" The musicians looked up at her and...
Jason was halted in his typing by the knock at his bedroom door. "Come in?"
The door was promptly kicked down and three figures filled the doorway. Jason could only make out the lead figure, which happened to be one Joss Whedon, and the Buffy creator looked more than a little pissed. Jason raised his eyebrow at his intruders, "Yes?"
Joss looked daggers at the younger man and crossed the room, his glare never wavering. "I've come to put an end to this."
"End to what, Joss?" The two figures still in the doorway growled menacingly and Jason quickly amended himself, "I mean... M-mister Whedon."
Joss spun Jason away from his keyboard and stared down at him, "Your writing, you've fucked with my characters once too often, and now I'm making you pay. Boys..."
At Joss' command, the figures stepped forward, revealing themselves as Luke from the pilot and the Judge from Surprise/Innocence, which amazed Jason to no end as they were both played by the same actor, who was last seen by him in drag in the movie Joe Dirt. The men crossed the room. Luke grabbed Jason's pencils and broke the leads one at a time, while the Judge yanked up Jason's keyboard and licked then coughed on it thoroughly. Then Luke took Jason's writing journal, dropped it on the floor and stomped it while staring at Jason with intimidation being the goal.
Joss nodded approvingly, "One more thing, Luke..." Jason's eyes widened as Luke yanked him out of his chair. The Judge then took his left hand and jammed each of Jason's fingers and thumb one at a time before doing the same to his right hand. Luke then threw Jason down on his bed while Jason winced at the pain of ten jammed fingers. Joss walked over to the pummeled fic writer and smirked, "And don't forget this!" He turned and led his Buffy-Mob Enforcers out, and before he was gone Jason could hear him say, "What kind of a sick freak is a DarlaDrusillaCordelia/Xander shipper anyway?!"
Luke then said, "I always preferred Luke/Darla myself."
Joss looked at his vampire enforcer angrily, "SHUT UP!"
"Yes boss."