Title: Love's Sensitive New Age Guy
Summary: This is a whimsical idea I had after hearing about the latest episodes, with some Bizarro-characters. A little S/B, a tad silly, and ever so slightly AU. <g>
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Thanks to: Jen, Pete, Dot, and Vic, as always.
"I just don't know what to do," Spike said despondently. He dropped onto the bed. [This is the bed where Buffy and I had. . . Where we had.] There had been a lot of having.
"You can't trust her," said the suave, blond man in the leather jacket, pacing by the crypt door. He frowned, and folded his arms. Every movement was elegant.
"Harrison's right," said the grossly overweight brunette woman sitting on Spike's good chair. "We're your best friends. We've always been on the side of evil. But she's only playing."
Spike rubbed his forehead. "Are you sure, Oak? How do you know?"
The young woman with glasses next to Harrison waved her hand. "She told you she's a mass murderer, Spike," she said in an English accent. "But she's never killed anyone just for fun. How can you trust someone like that?"
"You may be right, Roberta," Spike groaned. "Oh, I can't bloody stand it. I can't compromise myself."
Roberta shrugged. "Then again, maybe compromising yourself is exactly what you should do. Doesn't that follow your moral code? Being evil, and all?"
The others laughed. "You're so stupid, Roberta," said Harrison. "We only keep you around for comic relief."
Roberta glared at him. "Well, if you'd take your finger out of your rear end and *relax*, once in a while-"
"People!" Oak said assertively. "Don't make me get nasty."
"Sorry, Oak," Roberta muttered.
"Sorry, Oak," Harrison muttered.
"I'm lucky to have you, to keep them under control," Spike said. He sniffled. "I'm lucky to have such good friends. But what do I *do*?!"
"You have to break it off," said Harrison.
Oak nodded. "You have to, Spike. Otherwise you'll find yourself — tainted, by the goodness."
Spike shuddered. He looked at the floor, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, have something to confess."
"What?" Roberta asked.
"Yesterday, I — saw a child playing on a swing and I smiled!"
There were three simultaneous gasps. Oak stood and waddled towards the door, her huge breasts wobbling. "This is worse than we thought. I can't take this. I'm outta here."
"Me, too," said Roberta.
"Me, too," said Harrison.
They left. Spike thought about the child again. He smiled. He clapped a hand over his mouth. "No! No! Nooooooo!"
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