Title: The Pizza Guy?
Author: Bonster
Email: angelxanderforever@hotmail.com
Feedback: for this? Well, if I should have had more homophone fun, do tell.
Website: www.geocities.com/angelxanderforever
Archive: if you want this...just let me know. *giggle*
Pairings: S/X
Rating: PG-13 ish
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss "God" Whedon. Oh and ME, Kuzui, Fox, etc.
Spoilers: oh…um…small parts of all seasons I guess, except season 7
Summary: This is badfic. Xander and Spike flirt a bit. Xander shows his jealousy of Spike flirting with the pizza guy. They end up kissing. Angel shows up.
Warnings: This is not in any way serious at all! The following will apply: horrible spelling and grammar, character death, exaggerations, slash, maybe character bashing...I'm not sure if that's what it is because I love all the characters, but damn, I like to laugh too.
Notes: I was feeling irritated and needed to cheer myself up. So this came out. And then I wanted to share.





“Oi! Whelp! Doughnut boy! Get your bleedin arse away from my speshal made Dock Martins!”

*pause*

“hey Bleachboy! I was nowhere near those boots! Besides you should put the box further away from the food. You don’t want them caught between my stomach and that heaping pile of greasy goodness. And if you move to take the box and block my way, you will get such a staking!” Zander glared with his long lashed brown orbs.“

Spike, aka willam the Bloody, aka the chipless wonder, aka fangless, aka Buddy, aka oh…excuse me.

Ahem.

Spike got a look of pure poutness on his face. Then a wicked gleam issued so fast and hard from his eyes that it came out his ears.

“Do you promise that you’ll be the one to stake me, Zanpet?” Spike smarmed and leered.

Zander blinked. Maybe because his name was Xander and he was trying to figure out where the Z came from. Or p’raps, it was how delishus that pout that Spike the Blonde Vampire of his wet dreams had briefly shown. Or maybe it was the possibility of using his own little (well…not so little) “stake” to “stake” Spikey-wikey.

Spike sauntered (if you call one step a saunter) closer to Xander. “You know, I wouldn’t mind being staked by such a Nummy thing as yourself. What was it actually? Oh yes. I called you a nummy treat didn’t I? And what had you said? Moist,” Spike licked his lips. “And delicious.”

Xander, overloaded with lust that all his teenage boy’s hormones (well, his leftover teenage boy’s hormones, as he was 21 years old), needed to kiss and hump or do something violent (because that’s what all frustrated boys do). So he leaned forward a smidge of a bit, and then reared his head back.

CRACK!!

Spike “Ohhhh’d” and “Owwww’d” and fell to the floor, which was actually cement like, because the Magic Shoppe (or was that Box? *shrug and grin*) had placed a few cement blocks around for the soul purpose of when someone fell, they would fall well.

Just then Buffy, Willow, Oz (when did he get back?), Tara’s ghost (because we all know she’s still around! Shout out to my girl Lewella! Love you! I got your Terra in!), G-man (or…wait. Only Zander, *smack forehead* I mean Xander, calls him that…and not in a long time), and that ball of light ironically named Dawn came wandering in.

Buffy looked from Xander, the Xanman, to the crumpled heap of wriggling master Vampire on the floor and cocked her head. She knew she should have wore more eye make up because the scene in front of her was almost turning her on. What with Xander standing in a tense stance, even with his hands to his head and that clingy blue shirt. And with Spike wiggling and wraggling (ooo, Spike! *squeal*) beneath him. Easy to imagine them nekkid.

Giles was the first to speak “Yes, well.” He polished his glasses with a hankerchief rather than his normal vest/sweater/shirt method.

Willow looked to Tara’s ghost, and gave a small smile. And then the redhead took Oz’s hairy hand. You see, he had indeed conquered the wolf inside. By giving in. He now needed Willow and Tara’s ghost to control him, but no one minded. After all, he was soft (um...along the lines of furry...um okay). And they also rented him out to the carnival once a year so that he could still practice his music.

Spike looked up at everyone who had gone about they’re business. “I’m in bleedin pain! Well, ‘m not bleedin per se, but I am in bleedin pain! Argh! What a cycle! One of you lot want to give me something for my headache?”

The group looked up from there respective seats and standing positions. Small shakes of heads were all Spike saw. But the observant and gorgeous vamp observed an observation.

“Oi! Where’s the whelps sodding stupid demon bint, chit, shag toy, whatever?” Spike frowned largely.

Xander looked up from the large book, uncrossing his eyes, and spoke “she left, you brainless bloodsucker. I said this last week. When you were hitting on the pizza guy.” Xander scoffed and re-crossed his eyes going back to the book he was obviously not reading.

“Was not” Spike mumbled and grumbled and shifted his position on the floor. Then he bleenked. “Hey now! You noticed I was flurtin’ with the Pizza boy, eh? Had to make an impression that. Were you visited by a green-eyed monster then?” Spike stuck his tung between his lips in anticipation of the lad’s answer.

Well, I did play with a ONE-eyed monster after that, Xander thought. Outwardly he shrugged, but snuck a peek at the intensely good-looking demon sitting just a couple of yards away.

“A one-eyed monster, huh?”

Xander left his eyes crossed hoping that was not Spike inches from him now.

“Did I say that outloud?” Xander gulped so hard, he thought some of his tongue moved into his stomach, or maybe lower, sense his “little Zander” (you see! That’s the one spelled with a Z! It all makes since now!) was starting to twitch in his normally baggy jeans.

Xander looked around the Magic Bocks (see? Creative license! *giggle*) at the various faces now piering at his direction.

*time for everyone’s reaction to possible Spike and Xandman boinkage*

Willow looked to her best friend of lots of years. “Xander? Y-you, um, do, uh, ‘that’ thinking of the pizza guy?”

Tara’s ghost looked to her alive and well (or almost well) girlfriend with soft confusion.

Oz in all his wolfly glory nodded. And gave a small thumbs up.

Xander wanted to clear the air. He was so not attracted to the pizza guy. He wanted the not-so-natural blond Deadboy junior beside him. Picturing that hard body, oh boy did he. But how to tell the others?

“Well, Wills, not exactly the pizza guy, but the guy who was hitting on him.”

Willow frowned and looked more upset. “You mean that fledgeling vampire that we dusted after it drained him?”

Xander sighed exasperatedly. “No Willow Rosenberg. You, for a smart person are just missing the right in your face-ness of who I mean.”

Willow turned to Oz and Tara’s ghost. Tara’s ghost smiled softly and Oz looked rather blank. But Willow could tell he was thinking seriously about something (when was he not?).

“You mean the pizza guy’s boss who we saw just before the fledge got there?”

Buffy had had enough. She had more important things to do, like find someone, have sex and then either treat them like crap or have sex and be very clingy or have sex and be not so clingy.

Rolling her eyes she stood and left the shop.

Giles frowned, but went back to dusting the inventory.

Dawn walked by just then on her way to the bathroom. And she tossed back over her shoulder, “Spike you morons. He’s lusting after Spike,” and continued to the bathroom.

Xander giggled inanely (or maybe insanely? All insane-like? Oh well. I guess if I used a dicktonairy I would, like…know!). “Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah. Uh.” The boy looked everywhere but the vampire standing so close beside him, hands stuck deep in his pockets.

Willow gaped so long that drool started to trickle out of her O-shaped mouth. Tara’s ghost slipped over to her and wiped the drool off with a tiny smile.

Oz just slightly nodded and went back to growling at a shelf that held several silver objects.

Just then, Xander felt a cool hand on his chin. It lifted his face. Sapphire eyes with untold depths gazed into Xander’s own chocolate/coal windows to the soul.

“That true, my Nummy?”

Xander would have collapsed from the intensity pouring out of the blond vamp’s expreshun, if the demon had not put an arm around his waist to hold him up.

Deciding to go against all his previous actions before this knight, Xander realized he was in love with Spike *oooo yum*. All this time he had spent hating vampires was just out the window by the hand of God (ie ME! No, not Mutant Enemy, me! The all mighty author who you should always take my words as LAW, because I’ve only read some B/A fic but then I found Xander and spike and since it’s all good and trendy, I have to do it too! Hehe!)

*Meanwhile away from the authors mind and still in the magic shop*

As Xander through caution to the wind (not dust in the wind (which is by Kansas and is a good song)) and planted a bruising kiss on the object of his affection.

However, since it was a BRUISING kiss, the chip went off because Spike kissed back just as bruisingly.

As Spike backed away with a yelp, the door burst open and Angel (Broodboy himself! *swoon*) tromped and stomped his way to where his errant Childe stood.

“You’re my Childe, but I had him first!” seething under his game face, Angel growled. “I claim Sire’s rights.”

Xander frowned. When did Angel have him? Besides that one time in the sewer, and that one time in the mansion, and that one time when he was Angelus the Leather Babe. Considering those times, Xander sneered and backed into Spike’s side.

The Zeppo was surprised to here Spike’s laughter.

“You know you bloody poncey poofter, you are not my Sire you idiot. This was established. You should really catch up with the times.”

Angel frowned, and took deep unneeded breaths. “You mean you’re not my Childe?”

Spike rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on Xander’s waist. “Nancy boy! Course I’m not yours. Do you honestly think you could make something as wonderful as me.”

Seeing the Watcher pause in his dusting to nod his agreement to Spike’s statement, Spike went on. “Druscilla (it is so NOT Drusilla…that imdb place lies!) was my Sire. Right proper seduction and all that. You couldn’t have turned me, you have no sense of good breeding.”

Angel looked flustered, which meant his eyes shifted a little more than usual. “Are you sure? Because I really want to claim Zander.” Angel blinked.

Xander got huffy. “Hey! The name is with an X not a Z!”

Seeing Spike’s raised scarred eyebrow, Xan added “Well, you could tell with the inflection…” he trailed off at the eyebrow going impossibly higher. “Well, okay. He wrote me a note once and spelled it with a Z.” Spike nodded and said, “Spelling was never his strong suit.” Looking back at Hair-gel boy in front of him he said, “Go brood somewhere else.”

A slight frown appeared and gasps were issued from the parts of the room that could see it.

Standing there, Angel got lost in his broodying.

Spike and Xander, deciding all was well, began to make-out in earnest without bruising this time.

Willow, Oz, and Tara’s ghost glanced at Angel before deciding to leave and go to the Bronze (because they are ALWAYS there! Duh!).

On their way out they ran into the pizza guy from the last week.

Suddenly Clem came out of his chair (he was sitting in a corner watching the show, after all it was this or kitten poker) and staked the pizza guy.

Nodding and smiling to the group that was leaving and to Giles who was now drinking from a small green mug.

“Oi, Clem?” Spike broke away from Xander’s pink suctioning mouth. “Wanna take care of that?” indicating his head toward the Broodiest of all Brooders.

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” Clem ambled up to Angel who now had his mouth slightly open.

“No hard feelings?” Clem smiled as he plunged the stake into the chest of the soulful vamp.

*pause story* For those of you who are worried, Angel didn’t turn to dust, he just was whisked back to Los Angeles. Although if you thought he was dust, please feel free to think so. I know I will.
*cue story*

Clem shook his head as he went back to his seat. “Dude, that guy was a major bummer. Can we say party-pooper?” Picking up his popcorn, he settled back into his chair.

Spike and Xander smiled and proceeded to not mind the audience and tossed all of the books off of the table and got horizontal.

A passerby passed by the Magic Box, glanced at the window and said, “Look at that riff-raff. Now if only that nice Richard Wilkins III was still here, none of this kerfuffle would have happened. *sigh*”


The end!

Unless you want me to write more, and in that case, I need at least 9,000 feedbacks/reviews to continue (because, you know, that muse thing only works for instant gratification)
Tootles!