LJ: Charisma Brendon and Liz
Disclaimer: We own nothing about this fic but Mr. Kerfluffle. Oh, and Willow's psychosis.
Summary: Add a female photographer, one snarky assistant, and an unwilling model together. Stir in zany situations, nifty zingers, and an enclosed room. Set them in motion and watch, mock, and laugh. Results may vary.
ANs: We are the insane terrors of the fandom. Beware!
Uh...yeah, right. This li'l one-shot is based on a challenge that shall be posted at the end. You'll probably hate us. Just let us have a head start before the pitchforks come out.
Written for the "2 Heads Are Better Than One" ficathon, led by hannabee and danishafer.
*&^%#@!
Once upon a time, there was an "eveel" photography company that ruined all its employees' weekends. (Bastards.)
This company was headed by the "evol" witch impersonator, Willow Rosenberg, who often held conversations with things like books, clown wigs and cereal boxes. (Insane bitch.)
Among one of the "eveel" company's workers was a princess named Buffy Anne Summers. She was the best damned photographer to ever be affiliated with the "eveel" company.
The court jester, Xander Harris, who delighted the princess with naughty penis jokes, often accompanied her. He fixed the lighting, made coffee, and relieved tension by comparing obtrusive objects to a small pack of Rolaids (or Rolos, when the event called for it).
For a brief, shining moment, all was right in the lives of the princess and jester. The princess was on her way to a small island to get completely drunk, and the jester...well, it's better to not know what he was doing with his time off. With one phone call from the "evul" witch, that changed. The princess and jester were forced to give up their (separate) vacations in the name of minimum wage. (The horror! Oh no, please, nooooo!)
As the enchanted, evil clock in Miss Rosenberg's office struck nine, the door swung open. And the prin-... er, Buffy walked in. "So, what was the big emergency that just so required my camera? Has Barney finally answered your letters?"
Willow rolled her eyes and looked slightly insulted. "Pfft! As a matter of fact, he wrote me around three years ago. A-and Xander made me all obsessed with the 'I Love You' song, so blame him!"
"Right, forgot, sorry. But really, what's the problem?" Buffy asked, quietly singing "I love you, you love me..." just to spite her friend-boss.
Willow glared, but otherwise ignored her friend-employee's evilness. "New assignment, is all. Photo shoot for a man by the name of Angel Pierce. Do you know him?"
Buffy almost choked on a non-existent chicken bone. Oh no! He wasn't that guy that had that terrible viral infec -- ohh noo. "Angel Pierce? Nope, don't know him. Sounds like a bad gay porn name. I like my men straight," Buffy stated, raising an eyebrow.
With that, Willow reached under her desk, took out a cereal box and placed it in front of Buffy. She gave a smile bordering smarmy. "You eat him every day."
Buffy gasped, and stared at Willow. "I what-y-mc-what-what him? I'm pretty sure I would have remembered that."
Willow's mouth dropped to join Buffy's on the floor. "Not him, his cereal!" She turned the box around so Buffy could see the picture. "He's the new spokesperson for Cocoa Delight: Crunchy and Mmm-tastic. You're feeling awfully perverted today, aren't you? It's scary."
Buffy shrugged. "You make me that way. For some reason, the librarian personality I usually have just disappears around you. Why is this so 'urgent?' I was on vacation, y'know. But, I suppose Angel's grown attached to his little bowl of cereal and won't let anyone else hold it while he poses a little? Do you want me to try and 'coax' it from him? I'm not a hooker, you know."
"He-he yelled at me." Willow pouted.
"Yelled at you?" Buffy repeated incredulously.
"He said he needs it by next week! It's for some type of local magazine that's too cheap to pay for their photo shoots and pornography paraphernalia. That's why I called you in. No one's willing to do it."
Buffy sighed, horrifyingly picturing herself taking pictures of a guy's hairy ass. "Let me make sure I have this straight. Mister 'Cereal Box Guy' called and yelled at you because his cheap Playgirl-wannabe paper wants pictures of his hairy ass by next week. And nobody else wants to work with this...pisser because he's an asshole to everyone he meets? And so I'm stuck with the dreamboat? I'm pretty sure that some civil rights are being broken here."
Willow pouted, glancing at the front of the box. "He's just a little difficult. B-but he's cute! Look at him!" She placed the cereal box in front of her face, as her voice deepened. "Hello. I'm Angel, and I won't be sorry for mixing business with pleasure."
With a scoff, Buffy angrily smacked the box away. "Don't patronize me! 'Cute' and 'difficult' are two words that NEVER WORK WELL TOGETHER! Wait a minute. Cereal? He's famous for cereal? What's next, Willow? Will I be taking bikini shots of the Easter Bunny or maybe have the Loch Ness Monster pose for me in lingerie? You're going to owe me for this. Oh, will you ever!"
Willow watched Buffy storm out of the office and winced slightly at the slamming of the door. She reached down and picked the box up. Running a finger soothingly over his image, she cooed, "She didn't mean it, Angel. She'll see.... Are you okay?"
"I hope he tore!" Buffy called behind the closed wooden door.
Willow bit her lip furiously. "Well, he didn't!" Willow responded loudly. "What a monster," she muttered to herself. "She really doesn't mean any harm," she told the box.
As Willow pathetically smoothed her hand over the box again, Xander burst nonchalantly through the door. "Youuuuu rang?" he drawled, looking weirdly at her groping the box.
Willow froze with a standard dear-caught-in-headlights look on her face before it melted away when she recognized the voice. "I need you on assignment this week."
Xander shook his head in the negative. "Nope."
Willow sighed. "I'll pay you an extra fifty."
Xander's face lit up, his eyes seeing the light. "'Kay," he said simply, before he skipped off and out of the office.
Willow turned back to the box and shook her head in disbelief. "Men and photographers," she snorted in disbelief. She smiled happily at Angel's silent agreement.
*&^%#@!
Across town from the Office of Discontent, there was a prison cell that shall be referred to as a "studio." There - in the dark, cold, sunless room - sat the princess and court jest-...her assistant. The princess groaned in disappointment. "Can you believe her?"
"About as much as I could the last seven times you asked me that."
Buffy sighed, bending her head to look through the camera lens. "It's just that I finally didn't have my eye shoved up a camera," she told him before adjusting some lights.
Xander shrugged with fake nonchalance. "Could be worse. You could have had to work with Angharad."
Buffy flinched, as if pained. "Oh, right. Then I would have had to deal with her trying to feel him up."
Xander groaned as he pictured Angharad's countless attempts at pleasing the opposite sex. "Wait, so who is this guy again?" he quickly asked to ward off the somewhat graphic images.
"Some cereal box guy."
Xander gagged at the thought of photographing a celebrity through cereal. "Ew."
"Double-ew. Did you set up the bubbles?"
Xander picked up a bottle of bubble bath soap and dropped a little extra liquid into the bubble-filled bath water. "Bubbles are ready and waiting for their doom. Uh, I mean orders," he corrected.
Buffy smiled tightly. "Good," she said, looking around the studio. "And the silk robe and hot water and what-not?"
Xander echoed the smile. "Check. Coffee is waiting in his changing room, as His Royal Assness ordered."
"Yay, then." Buffy sighed. "Please, no bickering. I know you. Angharad might have been hard to deal with, but you aren't exactly a whole lot easier."
Xander gasped, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Well, I should hope not!" he exclaimed.
Buffy merely looked at him in disappointment.
Xander squirmed. "All right! I promise that as long as he doesn't say anything, I won't call him names."
"And you won't trip him or fool him into one of those 'hide-the-money-in-one-of-the-three-cups-and-guess-which-cup-the-money's-in' scams?"
Xander stared in exasperation as he watched his whole day fall apart. "You're taking all my fun."
Buffy thought for a minute, tapping her shoe on the studio floor. Xander started dancing the Macarena to the beat in boredom. "Let's make a deal," Buffy said finally, stopping Xander's attempt at doing "The Hustle."
Xander's eyes lit up. "Like the game show?"
Buffy rolled her eyes in mock frustration, and grinned. "Whatever. If he's a dick and complains about being bored, you can pull a few of your shifty tricks."
Xander thought that over. "What if he refuses to respect my authori-tah?"
Buffy gave him a sidelong glance, picturing a rumble and Mr. Cereal Box getting knocked out. "We'll take the bastard down."
"And then?"
Buffy bit her lip, before gleefully announcing, "We could...bring in Cordelia?"
Xander put up his hands, stopping her. "Uh, no. Although that might be fun to watch, it'd be cruel and very unusual," he decidedly told her.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Anya, then?"
"That'd do."
Buffy held out a hand. "Deal?"
He shook it with a nod. "You're a great businesswoman, Buff. This'll probably kill me, but...deal." As what he had just agreed to sank in, he wailed. "Oh gawd, what have I done?"
Buffy smiled cheerfully. "You've just sold your soul."
As if on cue, someone knocked on the door.
Xander stared miserably in the direction of the knocking. "And Satan has arrived to collect."
Buffy's lip quivered in fear. "It's too late to run," she whispered, defeated. "Get the door?"
"Why should I get it?" Xander whined in pain, backing away from Buffy.
She stage-whispered harshly, "Maybe because he's after you!"
"Or you're afraid. Bitch."
When Buffy's eyes narrowed, Xander jumped up and ran to the door. "Coming!"
Xander opened the door swiftly. "Well," he said, peering at the man's appearance, "look who it is. The cardboard box doesn't do you justice, Highness."
Angel stood there in all his difficult glory and scowled darkly. "Funny."
Xander heard Buffy gasp in mock horror. "You promised!" she yelled over her shoulder.
Xander took a deep, calming breath and held it. "Yeah, yeah." He cleared his throat and, with a mutter, tacked on, "Hag."
"I heard that," she yelled, checking the temperature of the water in the tub. Knowing Xander, he probably deliberately made the water freezing, just to spite the stuck-up, snotty, soon-to-be celebrity. "Show him in," she said, after seeing that Xander had used warm water.
Xander straightened his spine and, in a very Lurch-voice, moaned, "Follow me." He walked a few steps. "Please," he added as an afterthought.
Buffy turned towards the door to face her doom, the cause of her insanity. "I'm Buffy," she whispered unenthusiastically. "I...suppose I'll be taking the pictures today," she said pathetically, staring carelessly at his leather jacket. 'Pfft. He probably thinks that that's attractive...'
Xander walked over to help her and set up the backlights. "And I'm Xander," he introduced in the same unenthusiastically pathetic tone. "I'll be not-snarking you to death."
Angel looked carefully at the studio, and at the situation he was in. Buffy. Not half bad. Xander. Probably a pain in the ass. Bath tub. No doubt it's freezing in there. "Angel," he introduced tightly and coldly. "Cereal guy. And I don't enjoy exposing myself to or being controlled by strangers." He nodded his head towards Xander's direction. "Especially ones that look like him."
Xander silently repeated what Angel said with a distorted, cross-eyed expression and a lot of head shaking.
Buffy lightly glared at Xander before giving Angel a very saccharine and very fake smile. "Great. Let's get started then. You can change in that room over there." She pointed him towards the bathroom.
Xander (not very) helpfully added, "You have some brewing coffee in there, too. Be back in two. We haven't got all day."
Angel grudgingly walked away while mumbling about hating being controlled and something about "snarky assistants."
Xander sighed in exasperation as he scratched his head. "Well...he's a regular breath of vile air."
Buffy started to nod in agreement before another thought struck her. "Or air containing a hefty amount of gel-smell. If you lit a match a mile away, I bet his head would catch fire."
After Xander took a minute or two to contemplate the idea of finding matches, he paced around the studio. "How much longer do I hafta put up with this guy?"
With a sigh she pointed out, "We haven't even started."
Xander abruptly dropped to his knees. "I wanna die," he groaned before lying flat on his back and looking up at the ceiling.
Buffy snorted in amusement. The sadistic part of her couldn't help but say, "You'll probably want to die all over again when he has to strip and get into the tub, so I'm not really interested right now."
"Oh God!" he whimpered, placing his arm over his eyes. "I'm going to kill Willow," he remarked decidedly, figuring a simple plastic spider would do the trick.
"Join the club. We just had cards made."
He immediately removed his arm from his eyes. "Have you picked out flowers yet?" he asked in wonder.
Buffy shrugged. "I'm thinking the good old stand-by of lilies."
"She hates petunias. Something about the pig and cartoon...I don't know, I usually tune her out."
Buffy gave him a "duh" look. "Rightfully so, sometimes."
Xander arose from the floor. "Hey, Cereal Man! You're over your time limit!" he bellowed.
Angel yelled angrily from the changing room, "Stop trying to make me do things I don't want to do!"
"Get your barely-covered white boy ass out here, NOW!" Buffy yelled bitchily, stopping her hand's efforts of making a languid S-shaped, "you-go-girl" sign.
"I'm not coming out!"
Buffy sighed, shaking her head. "Xander, go get him."
Xander took a calming breath and walked to the door on shaky legs. "What's taking so long?"
"I have nothing to wear," Angel responded innocently.
In a moment of non-thinking, Xander angrily stomped inside. "There's a silk robe, right-" He looked around until he found it. With a yelp, he dropped it. "Why is it wet?"
Angel pointed out the overturned coffee mug. "I spilled coffee and needed something to clean it up with."
Xander's mouth opened and closed several times while he decided between indignation and blinding rage. "Of course you did. You were supposed to wear that!"
"But it has coffee on it," the man said simply.
Xander glared. "It didn't before you got hold of it." He looked around and found a terry-cloth robe, which he then threw at Angel. "Cover your shame with that."
"Spoiled ass," Xander muttered as he left the bathroom. He turned around to the bathroom once more and stopped. "Honestly, who cleans with SILK?" he yelled towards the door.
Buffy sighed in resignation. "Let me guess.... He broke something, tore something, or dirtied something, right?"
Before Xander could answer, Angel came waltzing out wearing a towel.
Xander gaped angrily at the lack of robe-ness, and the presence of skimpy-towel-ness.
Buffy groaned. "Finally."
Angel glared a dark and smarmy glare. "'Finally?' Just 'finally?' No comments on the towel?"
Xander put his left hand over his mouth to stifle the vomit before raising the other hand. "I can comment!"
"No you won't," she said, looking at Angel before swallowing a little louder than inaudibly. "It's...yeah, anyway." She pointed to the tub. "Get in."
"Do I have to get naked?"
Xander rolled his eyes before he matter-of-factly asked, "Aren't you already?" Buffy elbowed Xander in the ribs, to which he replied with a small yelp and, "Unfortunately, yes, you have to get naked. Unless you know a better way to pose in a bathtub."
"And we even have the bubbles, so...you know, there's no way we'll see anything. Unless, of course, the bastard bubbles are unreliable ones and go poppy on us. Then you're screwed." Buffy nodded with wide eyes.
Xander gave her an odd look. "And so are we."
"I see," Angel said calmly, ignoring their statements and placing a toe in the tub. "Too cold."
"It's not cold. It hasn't been sitting there long."
Xander scoffed and placed his hand under his chin, smiling. "Making excuses for your...shortcomings, already? We haven't even seen it yet. "
Angel sent a hostile glare Xander's way. "It happens to be a very big coming...as a matter of fact."
Buffy coughed to cover a laugh.
Xander shuddered. "That was so wrong."
"As wrong as you trying to sneak a peek at me in the bathroom?"
Xander looked as if he was going to be physically ill. "Excuse me! You're the one that had the 'accident!' Like I want to see your...your...ew! Who would want to, anyway?"
Trying to diffuse the enormously hectic situation, Buffy opened her big, intruding mouth: "I'm sure lots of people would."
Angel turned to her and grinned glowingly.
Xander gaped in shock. "Would you?" he asked, shuddering at the thought.
Buffy shot the door a panicked, desperate look. "I....That's..." She looked from the door to the floor to the ceiling before an idea hit her and she grabbed the camera. "Well, we should get started!"
Angel leered. "It's going to take a lot more for me to actually follow your orders and get me into that tub."
Buffy sighed her annoyance and took a minute to think. "Cookies?"
"Cookies?" Angel repeated, puzzled.
Xander nodded. "And she doesn't mean chocolate chip."
Angel seemed to understand. "Ah. And when will I be receiving these...so-called 'Cookies?'"
"When you get your head out of your ass," Xander mumbled.
Buffy shot daggers at Xander's head before he put his hands up in defense. "...When you've proven that you can be a professional," Buffy told Angel, half-intrigued, half-sickened by his forwardness.
Angel just wouldn't give it up. "What'll it take to get a little sample right now?"
Xander took the opportunity to scare the hell out of the man. "Well...maybe a little, but don't tell anyone," he said in a faux sultry voice as he moved closer towards the man in the towel.
Angel backed up quickly and tightened his hold on the towel. "God no!"
Buffy rolled her eyes heavenward and mumbled something about "children" and "surrounded" before stepping in. "No sample. Get in the tub, and then we can talk cookies while I snap a few photos."
Angel sighed and hesitantly - while shooting Xander looks that were somewhere between frightened and threatening - got in the tub.
Xander sighed in relief, wishing he were back home, watching the Saturday morning episodes of "X-Men" - Gambit and Rogue were supposedly hooking up this weekend. "Now we can get something accomplished!" he commented to the blonde, walking over to the tub with outstretched arms.
Angel spastically waved his arms in front of the tub, effectively blocking Xander's approach. He basically freaked out. "Whoa, what're you doing?" he questioned, frightened.
Xander scoffed, forcibly moving Angel's hands out of the way. "Saving everyone from seeing your package," he responded, gathering the bubbles in his hand and spreading them near Angel's body.
"I hate bubbles." Angel grumpily stared at a particularly large group of bubbles.
Xander gave him a quizzical look. "The bubbles are to cover the half-pack of Rolaids you call a -"
Buffy groaned. "Hey! Stop your bickering, ladies."
"How's my hair?" Angel said, ignoring both comments. He worked his fingers over the gelled spikes.
Xander stood back and folded his arms over his chest, studying the fray of the man's hair. "Looks like you stuck your finger - or some other extremity - in a light socket."
Buffy sighed in exasperation, her camera getting heavy in her hand. "Your hair's fine. Sexy, even," she said, without a trace of hesitancy.
Xander's eyes widened as he threw his head over his shoulder, gawking at the short blonde. "Were we just talkin' metaphorical cookies, or real cookies? Cause if you two want to make googly eyes all day, then I'm giving back Willow's extra fifty."
"She gave you an extra fifty?" the blonde whined, turning extremely red at the thought of her conniving little witch of a boss-friend.
Covering his hand with his mouth as if he were about to vomit, Xander mumbled a few curse words before looking innocently at Buffy. "Oops. Was I not supposed to mention that?"
"Whatever," she commented simply, waving him off. "Are we ready, then?" she asked the man in the tub, raising the camera to her eye.
"I'm ready," Xander yelled off to the side before Angel had the chance to respond. "Cereal Man is ready," he concluded before Angel ground his jaw furiously.
"How's Mr. Kerfuffle doing in there?" she suddenly asked, lowering the camera from her eyes.
"Ready and waiting to dive," Xander responded.
Angel's eyebrows rose in disbelief as he squirmed in the tub, adjusting the bubbles near him. "Excuse me? My...Mr. Kerfuffle?" he said as he looked down into the tub, not clearly seeing his package due to the murkiness of the water.
She pointed to a spot in the tub that wasn't completely bubbled. He jumped a little - causing a disturbance in the bubbles - at the sight of something neon.
Xander laughed openly. "It's just a water-toy dolphin, dude. Chill."
Angel sighed in relief. "Oh. I thought my Mr. Kerfuffle turned neon, for a second."
Buffy and Xander exchanged confused looks. "Right, then. Smile?" Buffy requested.
Angel looked up in confusion as she snapped a picture. "Wha?"
"'Smile,'" Xander told him loudly, "doesn't mean 'Look constipated.'"
"I second that," Buffy agreed, snapping a few more pictures of Angel with his constipated look.
Xander turned to his friend and stroked her hair in mock adoration. "That's my little fairy."
Buffy swatted Xander's hand off her head in annoyance. "Don't call me that, loser."
Out of desperation to gain back the attention from the controlling strangers, Angel asked, "How's this?" He smiled fakely. "Is that okay?"
Buffy looked at him before turning back to Xander. "I didn't think we were going to have to resort to this...but...Xander?"
"Hmm?"
She sighed. "We're going to have to whip out 'The Flamingos.'"
"More water-toys?" Angel whined immaturely in disappointment. "This dolphin's already freaking the hell out of me. He's bumping into my most delicate of regions," he informed them, picking up the neon dolphin from its place in the water and dropping it with a splash.
"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," Xander indicated, subconsciously petting a leaf of a plant found beside him. "The usual?" he asked Buffy, before leaving the plant behind to walk towards the huge stereo system.
"You got it," she responded before snapping another useless picture. She sighed again (it was becoming a natural occurrence that day) before turning to the man in the tub. "These photos will really further your career..." she assured him fakely. " What do you do anyway? Other than peddle cereal."
"I'm an actor."
Buffy shot Xander another worried look. "...Of course you are."
Xander whistled softly and put on the track, "I Only Have Eyes For You." He quietly sang a few "Shoop-Ob-Ob"s here and there, rocking back and forth from foot to foot. Without turning around, he asked, "Has he stopped making constipation-face yet?"
Buffy sighed and lowered her camera. "Xander is right. Do you have any other expression?" she asked.
Angel creased his eyebrows in contemplation. "I have my brooding face," he said finally. "Mostly everyone enj-wh-what-the!" Angel jumped slightly out of the tub, sending water splashing to the floor. He calmed down, looking into the tub and fishing for the neon dolphin. "This dolphin keeps bumping into me! What, is this some kind of computer-activated, obscene water-toy?"
Xander and Buffy looked at each other. "Yes," Xander responded after a moment, "it was purposely picked because it likes dorky, constipated looks. The dolphin's a freak like that," he told him, nodding spastically.
Buffy sighed for the seventeenth time and approached the tub. "Here, hand it over," she demanded with an outstretched hand.
Angel held up a hand to stop her. "DO NOT...come any closer!"
Buffy glared in frustration. "Why the hell n-"
A thought suddenly struck Xander and he looked at Buffy with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. "Oh my god. He's getting..."
Buffy gasped as her trail of thought joined Xander's and jumped away from the tub. "Gross! He's molesting Mr. Kerfuffle! That's all it takes to get you aroused? A dolphin?"
"A dolphin and a certain fairy stripping down to her tank-top will...yeah, that'll do it for me!" Angel defensively pointed out.
Xander gasped. "You stripped? When did you do that?"
"I did not strip!" Buffy yelled.
Xander pointed an angry finger at Angel. "That's not what Cereal Man says," he yelled accusingly.
Buffy threw up her hands in defeat. "I need a break!"
"I need a cold shower," Angel commented, looking into the tub.
Xander looked at the two of them, shaking his head in utter disgust. "And I need some serious bleach to wash my eyes out with."
"It's not that bad," Angel explained.
Xander coughed. "Oh yeah? Well, I think that 'cold bath water' should be enough to help you there." He gingerly picked up the tainted towel and walked away.
Angel growled, "Give me the damned towel, Xander."
Xander mockingly danced with the towel in front of him. "Not until you take a few broody pictures."
Angel waited, showing off his brooding face as Buffy snapped a few more photos.
"Now can I have my towel?" he asked Xander after Buffy finished.
Buffy gritted her teeth, angrily stomping on the floor before walking up towards him, about to wring his neck. "Hold on, you impatient, spoiled..." She stopped herself before she could harm him, reminding herself that she was a professional that could not afford to lose her job.
She got a towel from a closet near the bathroom, and casually handed it to the man in the tub.
As Angel took the towel from her hand, he grabbed a hold of her stomach, bringing her into the tub with him. "You're in big trouble, Mister!" She screamed as she tried to get up but failing as he held down.
While they were fighting, Xander calmly picked up the camera and silently took pictures.
Buffy eventually gave up and lunged for his neck as much as she could. "You ruined my weekend! I was getting a nice tan!" She jerked his neck forward. She continued, "Enjoying the surfer boys, and drinking fruity mixed drinks! I should kill you!"
Once his task was complete, Xander went over and picked her up. She screamed, "Put me down! I will not be silenced!"
Figuring it a good idea to stay quiet or agree with the blubbering maniac, Xander placed the soaking girl on the floor. "No, no, you're not being silenced. It's just quiet time. Do you want to sing the Barney song? It's very calming," he cooed in a whisper.
"I'm sorry!" Angel yelled back in defense. "I'll make it up to you," he promised in a rush as her eyes turned black with fury.
"Too late! I'm going to kill you!" she screeched, lunging at his neck once more.
Xander quietly began singing the "I Love You song," stroked her hair and handed her an actual cookie. She looked torn between the cookie and Angel's neck before she placidly took it. "I'm still going to kill him."
*&^%#@!
Buffy slowly opened the door of the office fridge, peering into it with minimal interest before closing it. She propped herself up on the counter, swinging her legs back and forth as she stared at Xander eating his doughnut.
"Did you see the paper?" she asked him, eyeing the doughnut and licking her lips.
"Boy, did I ever," he responded, looking up at her and shooting her a "this-doughnut-is-mine-all-mine" glare.
Buffy pouted. "Think Willow's going to like it?"
Xander looked at the paper for the millionth time, reading the local headline. He smiled devilishly. "She'll probably be a little angry, but she'll learn to deal. So, when's your date with Mr. Assness?" he asked.
"Call him 'Angel.' And tonight, we're having dinner."
"And I suppose a little rub-a-dub-dub in the tub? You've already done it once before."
"Maybe," she carefully said, smiling coyly.
He scoffed, shaking his head. "You two make me sick."
She smacked him. "Shut it."
*&^%#@!
Inside the realm of the evol office witch, said witch had resumed her conversation with the cereal box.
"You never told me how the shoot went. I'm a little angry." She angrily turned the box around so that the picture faced the door.
After a few moments of pouting, she turned it back around. "I forgive you. I bet it was Xander and Buffy that kept you from talking. Scoundrels!"
She hummed merrily. "Do you want to read the paper with me?" she asked the box as she looked down at the caption.
Her eyes widened and her fists unconsciously clenched the paper. She read the headline aloud over and over again:
"Willow Rosenberg and Angel Pierce Caught in Water Frolic."
"BUUUUUUUUUUFFYYYYYYYYY!"
Finis
Challenge #28 "Tub" issued by Dani & Hannahbee
Type: AU
Basic Plot: Angel is a musician/writer/singer/actor/whatever (your choice). He's popular in a small, but loyal fan-community. Meaning, he's no big celebrity yet. He's known to be pretty difficult during photo shoots, so most photographers avoid him at all costs. What nobody knows - he's no diva, he just feels uncomfortable:
a) Exposing himself like this or
b) Being controlled by a stranger.
Buffy is a young photographer. Her boss either doesn't like her or he/she wants to test her, so Buffy's next job is a shooting with Angel. Knowing his reputation she dreads it of course, but swallows the bitter pill and finds herself in for a pleasant surprise.
Plot Requirements:
1) Explain how Buffy manages to get Angel into a tub and pose half-nude.
2) Angel getting aroused and *not* wanting Buffy to see, which makes him much more difficult.
3) Buffy trying to be all no nonsense with a naked, grumpy, brooding Angel and failing miserably since she's drooling all over him.
4) Buffy getting to close to the tub and Angel pulls her in as a joke, she gets soaked.
5) Say what the tub-pics do for his career.
Little things to incorporate into the fic:
1) Include the name Angharad (this is a must because she inspired this challenge).
2) A black silk robe.
3) People calling Buffy a fairy.
4) A neon dolphin scaring the hell out of Angel.
5) The song "I Only Have Eyes For You"