Author’s Notes: I’m still recovering from my 21st so if this is crap, it’s
because alcohol has replaced all the blood in my body. I’m still working on
some other stuff, but I felt the need to write a pointless piece of fic at
Feedback: Just a spoonful keeps me going for days.
Xander and Anya stood in line, he trying not to let the moths from his wallet escape, and she, pointing out the various films they would not be viewing.
“That one has puppies on the poster. Puppies are Satan’s minions.”
“Is that a fact?” The ex-vengeance demon shrugged.
“I dated him. You decide.” Xander shivered involuntarily. Anya still had the ability to make him quake with undiluted fear, but doing so as nonchalantly as one would ask to be passed the salt.
“I’d prefer not to think about the Lord of Darkness on date night. Somehow it destroys the mood of light-hearted consumerism that I know and love.”
Xander scrounged around for the correct amount of money and handed it over to the teller with much hesitation, forcing the young man to yank it out of his sweaty hand.
“What? It got stuck!” Anya placed her arm through Xander’s and at the top of her voice declared: “It’s ok to be poor Xander. Lots of people are, but we shouldn’t make them feel bad about it. They’re worse off as it is.”
Xander cringed inwardly and dragged Anya into the theatre.
“An, I thought we’d covered sensitivity towards the under privileged? Not to mention volume control when discussing matters of a private nature.” Anya sent him a sceptical look and got in line to buy popcorn.
Ten minutes later, armed to the teeth with popcorn, sodas and jellybeans, Xander and Anya excused themselves past 11 people and took their seats in the crowded cinema. Scanning the dimly-lit room for familiar faces, Xander munched loudly on his popcorn, earning him a shove from Anya.
“You’re crushing your squeaky fluffy white stuff between your mandibles too loudly.”
“What would you like me to do about it?”
“Stop.” Xander sighed and concentrated on chewing quietly. His crunching was irrelevant as soon as the movie began, as the loud explosions and constant stream of special effects, drowned out any other sources of noise. Anya sat placidly while 20 story buildings blew up on the screen in front of her, glaring at Xander in response to his futile ‘comfort’ gestures and cheering loudly as human remains were tossed into the air on-screen. Xander would have discouraged her from expressing her utter delight at the dismemberment, were it not for similar shouts emanating from the back row of the cinema. Xander turned around to identify the source, only to be met with indistinguishable figures and the whites of eyes. Something was tugging on Xander’s memory, urging him to make a connection, but it was being definitively stifled by the erratic fire of a machine gun being operated by a genetically modified feline android with a humiliating tag line.
The constant hum of rapid fire eventually lulled the dark-haired boy into a blissful sleep and another hour swept by before he awoke. The sudden glare of a synthetic light source brought him back to consciousness and he fixed his eyes on the credits that were slowly rolling up. Anya clapped her hands together excitedly and dragged Xander out of his seat.
“Come. Now that we’ve gone to movies, we have to make out in the back row. Like a normal couple.” Xander smiled at the concept. A normal couple.
“An, we couldn’t be further from being a normal couple even if we tried.”
Anya delivered a pout on cue and pointed to the back row of seats. Never one to refuse a make out session, Xander climbed the stairs and stopped at the aisle seat. He was about to enter the row when a sound drew his attention. At the other end of the row, a brunette girl was straddling someone else on the chair, her hair obscuring both their faces from Xander’s inquisitive gaze. Giggling to himself, Xander motioned Anya over and took her out of the cinema.
“Why are we here? I want to make out in the back row!”
“We’re going to have to come back another time An. Looks like the honeymoon suite is already occupied.”
“Well then tell whoever it is to hurry up and then we can have a turn.”
“An, I’m not marching in there and demanding two hot and heavy, hormonal teenagers wrap up their session so that we can have a go. It’s rude, it’s unnecessary and…what if the guy is bigger than me?”
“That won’t be a first.”
His dignity in tatters and his raging lust tapping him on the shoulder, Xander tentatively entered the cinema and headed in the direction of the love-birds. The brunette was still firmly entrenched on the lap of her partner, only now, Xander was able to make out the tattoo that adorned her right arm. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling with unabashed pain. Great. This is just what my psychiatrist ordered. Shifting slowly towards the tempestuous Slayer, he winced each time a stray piece of popcorn crunched under his shoe, stopping at intervals in order not to disturb the noisy activities. He reached the couple and was about to tap Faith on the shoulder when the hand, that had been exploring the brunette’s chest, shot out and grabbed his wrist in a steel grip. Squealing loudly, Xander tried to pull away, but he only succeeded in putting more pressure on his wrist. Faith chose this moment to look up and her face was a measure of amusement – decorated with a devilish smile. Her smile broadened as Xander finally realised who she was straddling, and in turn, Xander’s pained expression shifted to one of total disbelief and complete horror.
“Hey X, if ya gonna use my nickname for her, ya gotta at least say it like ‘bee’, otherwise it sounds like ya gonna say banana, or butt or something.”
Buffy rewarded Faith with a sharp slap to her behind and the brunette growled playfully. “It was me talkin’ about butts, wasn’t it?” Buffy released Xander’s hand and placed both of her hands on Faith’s posterior.
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a nice ass encased in leather.” Buffy squeezed gently, causing Faith to arch towards her and setting the stage for a long, sumptuous and extremely noisy French kiss.
Xander hit the floor with a loud thud.
Buffy and Faith looked up from their fevered embrace long enough, to gage Xander’s condition. Faith peered over at him.
“I think he’s ok B.” The blonde Slayer in question looked at Faith sceptically. “Or not. Whateva. You wanna make out in every row?” Buffy laughed heartily.
“Romantics. You’re a dying breed.”
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s a ‘hell yes’.” Faith lifted herself off Buffy and hopped over into the next row.
“Wicked sexy B.”
“I could say the same for you.” Buffy followed suit and ended up in Faith’s lap. “I love date night.”
“Liar. You just like making out with me.”
“I’m not gonna argue with that, but it’s not the only reason.” Buffy nuzzled Faith’s neck and sighed contentedly.
“Nope. X is lying in a pool of melted candy.” Faith earned herself another smack, after which a heated groping session ensued.
Outside the cinema, Anya tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the back row to be liberated in order for her and Xander to play at being a normal couple. After a good ten minutes, the ex-vengeance demon flipped her hair over her shoulder and marched into the cinema. The sight that greeted her was a blonde girl straddling someone in the second row from the back. Deciding that Xander had chickened out of the confrontation, Anya stormed out of the cinema and began the walk back to Xander’s house, grumbling intermittedly, in addition to latching onto a new mantra.
“I hate date night, I hate date night, I hate date night.”