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For the safety of puppies and Christmas -a season 4 xmas crackfic

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  • For the safety of puppies and Christmas -a season 4 xmas crackfic

    Well, it's fairly cracky and random anyway... set between Doomed and A New Man, where I'm assuming for the sake of argument that Christmas falls. Does anyone have a solid timeline on that?

    Right. Here we go....


    "So," said Buffy. "In summary. We're trapped in a mall, in a Starbucks outlet, surrounded by angry demon santas, and all we can do is wait for a friend of Spike's to come and rescue us with a talisman made out of chicken feet?"

    "That seems to be our predicament," said Giles.

    "Our predicament bites," growled Anya.

    "And there are no more spells we could do?" asked Willow. "I'm sure they've got some spices we could use behind the counter? Nutmeg can be good for spells. Plus, good smelling."

    "Ooh, Christmas-flavor magic, I like!" grinned Xander.

    "I'm afraid there aren't any spells that we could perform to effectively fend off these particular demons with the resources available," said Giles. "At least, none that would allow us to retain a full complement of life, limb, sanity and eyebrows."

    Buffy frowned. "And I can't just...kill them with sharp weapons?"

    "I'm afraid they're impervious to physical harm," said Giles.

    "Plus, could you really stab Santa?" said Xander.

    "It might feel icky. But, if you can think of any weak spots, I've got the weapons variety pack right here." Buffy lifted her bag o' weapons off the ground. It clinked, heavily. "Plus, Xander has a mace."

    "And I have a dagger strapped to my thigh," added Anya. "It's attached to my panties."

    "Who are you expecting to kill with that?" said Willow. "Tiny demon rapists?...and I appologise for that, saying of it out loud, that was my mouth panicking, and saying things that are bad. Is it hot in here?"

    "No, it's just you." Xander noticed Anya's dagger glare. "You that is hot, in the temperature, not in a man and woman way... or the woman and woman way...which, I should point out, I do not find hot, it is...."

    "Yammering," Buffy pointed out.

    Xander shut his mouth.

    "What are we going to do?" said Willow. "We should do something." The demon santas were pushing their disgusting, greasy, hairy faces up against the window, banging on the glass. The only thing that was keeping them at bay for the moment was a collection of Starbucks furniture that Buffy had ripped from the floor and piled up, plus a minor incantation that Giles and Willow had rustled up that would only hold for a few more minutes.

    "No need to wet your knickers yet," said Spike. "My mate should be along soonish."

    "Don't bring my knickers into this, deadboy," snarled Xander.

    "Maybe you should focus on wetting your lady's then?" Spike leered at Anya.

    "Hey!" said Xander.

    "Stakes!" said Buffy. She held up a sample selection from the bag.

    "Excellent advice, I think," said Anya. She turned to Xander. "You should definitely focus on giving me sexual pleasure. There's a bathroom at the back...?"

    "I wonder if Willow might follow up her recent blindess spell with one that could also make me deaf?" suggested Giles.

    Spike shifted uncomfortably. "Quite,'s about some poker to pass the time? Don't think there's any kittens handy, but I daresay there's some rats in the kitchen?"

    "Kittens? What?" Buffy made a horrified face. "No, actually, I don't want to know."

    "Your loss, love," said Spike.

    "Well, at least we have gingerbread eggnog on tap," said Willow.

    "It is spicily delicious," Xander agreed. He was on his fourth grande of the siege.

    "Poofter," said Spike. He flicked his lighter open with a "dink", and lit up.

    "You can't smoke in here!" said Willow. "This is a Starbucks!"

    "And I daresay you're not allowed to be in here in the dead of night carrying what would pass for heavy artillery in Medieval times..." Spike pointed his cigarette in the direction of Buffy's weapons bag and Xander's mace. "So, guess we're all breaking the law here, ain't we?"

    "Breakin the law, breakin the law!" said Xander, suddenly. Then he shrank back into his seat. "Sorry. Beavis and Butthead moment. It'll pass."

    "Look what you're doing to my people," said Buffy, glowering at Spike.

    "I didn't do anything. It's not my fault he's a pillock."

    "Hey!" Xander objected.

    "Well, even if it's not your fault," said Buffy, "I still want it on record that I hate you and frequently wish you were dead. And, if wishes were horses... well, if we're in here much longer, I might just get myself a pony for Christmas."

    "Buffy, I'm all for threatening Spike, but I'm not actually sure that made sense." Willow put her hand to Buffy's forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"

    Buffy waved her away. "Cabin fever. Starbucks cabin. Made from coffee, not logs. But without a fire." She looked perplexed. "Sorry...."

    Spike sat up, suddenly, with a manic, longing look in his eyes. "I wish my mother had loved me like she loved Mr Pipkin." Spike blinked, and clapped his hand over his mouth in horror. "What the f---"

    "Who's Mr Pipkin?" asked Willow.

    "I'm saying nothing," growled Spike.

    "Aww, did mummy not love you, saddums?" said Xander. Then he leaned forward. "Though, seriously, what was that?"

    "Spike's subconscious bubbling to the surface in a deeply disturbing fashion?" suggested Buffy. "Well, the mummy issues would explain Drusilla..."

    "Shut your mouth!"

    As Spike gave the table a violent shove, Giles's eyes flicked up to the wall of the Starbucks, where some people were standing in a field with some coffee, grinning at the camera in the manner of fair-traded farmers the corporate-artwork-world over. Except, the corporate decor had a small addition.

    "Oh Lord," said Giles. He got up and rushed over to the wall to inspect it more closely. The others followed suit.

    "What is it?"



    "What? What is it?"

    "It's Borgof's Sigil," said Willow.

    "And that's not good?" said Buffy.

    Giles polished his glasses. "Borgof is the god of...well, technically he's a god of many aspects, including farming and childbirth, but, in this instance..."

    "Yes, skip quickly to this instance, being the instance we are for instance trapped inside a Starbucks with?" urged Buffy.

    "To cut a long story short, he's the god of...we're all rather buggered," said Giles. "He's the god who guards the gates to the dimension of Ngizil."

    "Nuggsilly?" said Xander. "I take it that's not in Nebraska?"

    "Nug-ee-zill, Xander. And no, it's not Nebraska. It's one of the most torturous hell dimensions known to....well, perhaps "known" is a misnomer, given that no one has been there and returned. But, demons have told tales that...well, let's not go into details perhaps?" Giles was visibly pale.

    "So, our little verbal outbreaks of spazz are because of this siggle? Let me guess...they're portents? And this gate is going to open? And...badness?"

    "So, what now?" said XAnder. "Can't we just rub the hellgate off the wall? I have those magic markers I was buying for my mom's Christmas present."

    Everyone looked at him. "Ok, exactly how much do you hate your parents?"

    "The markers aren't the present," said Xander, defensively. "I was just going to write on the wrapping paper with them, they were the only pens in the shop..."

    "YOUR PUNY EXCUSES DO NOT PLACATE THE LORDS OF NGIZIL!" boomed a voice. It was coming from the wall.

    "Crap!" was the general response.

    A rumbling filled the Starbucks.

    "How do we stop it?" cried Buffy.

    "I don't remember reading...perhaps it'll work..." muttered Giles. "Yes, I believe it might!"


    "Holy water, rub the sigil off with holy water!" cried Giles.

    "But we don't have any," Buffy yelled back.

    "Actually," said Spike. He pulled out a vial of water from inside his jacket. Giles snatched it and rubbed at the wall with the liquid. The markings fizzed and hissed and smoked. There was a scream from somewhere deep inside the wall. And all went silent.

    Even the demon santas outside the shop seemed shocked into temporary submission. Everyone panted with relief. Then, when silence and peace was restored - and the demon santas resumed their scuffling at the window - Buffy peered accusingly at Spike.

    "Why exactly were you carrying holy water?"

    Spike looked at his shoes. "Harmony likes it when I pour it on her during..."

    "And I think that's quite enough detail for one day, huh?" said Xander. He stood up and walked hurriedly towards the window. "And look, it's the cavalry!" A demon holding up a bunch of chicken feet was walking through the santas. As he walked, the santas cringed back, and then began to pop out of existence, one by one. "The cavalry from the battle of melted face?"

    "Clem!" called Spike. "Come on in mate!"

    The demon - Clem - pushed open the door to the Starbucks. All the santas were disappeared, and the Scoobies stood around feeling both relieved and a little uncomfortable at being saved by a strange demon.

    "'re...Clem?" said Buffy. "I guess...thanks?"

    "No, it was a pleasure," said Clem. "Merry Christmas!" he added, waving the chicken feet in the air. "Anyone for a festive snack?"

    "No, thank you," said Giles, waving away the waggling feet.

    "Suit yourself." Clem bit into a couple of the feet.

    "Well, thank you again," said Giles.

    "A friend of Spike's is a friend of mine," said Clem. He waved - making the spare flesh on his arm waggle too - and left the store.

    "We're not actually friends of Spike's," Anya called after him, although he was already gone. "We hate Spike. He is irritating and pathetic."

    "Hey! I just saved your hide," said Spike. "I'm not sticking around to be insulted by anyone who willingly has sex with that Harris boy." And he grabbed a cookie from the counter display, popped the whole thing in his mouth, and flounced out, with a mumbled. "Burrgr yu wnkers!"

    "Back atcha!" Xander gave him a two finger salute as he left.

    Anya gestured for him to put his fingers down. "Don't do that, it's unAmerican."

    Giles looked around at everyone. "I suppose we should leave now?"

    "I second that suppose," said Xander. "Ooh, has someone taken out the security tapes? So we're not caught on camera drinking the merchandise?"

    Willow pulled them out of her bag. "Check."

    "Good. Then I may as well take the rest of the pastries," said Xander.

    "We are bad criminals," said Willow, hanging her head.

    "No, we're thorough criminals with excellent follow through," said Xander, giving her a consoling pat on the back. "Also, we were under siege."

    Buffy was inspecting the now-clean wall. "I wonder who made the symbol?"

    As if in answer, there was a crash in the back of the store. Buffy was there in a second, and wrenched open the bathroom door. Inside, she discovered..



    Buffy grabbed him and slammed him against the door of the bathroom. "Let me guess, the evil fresco was yours?"

    "Oh, no... it was here when I got here...I just...came to use the loo."

    "Bollocks!" Giles was at Bufffy's side now.

    "Yes, it is," admitted Ethan. "I was intending you all to be sucked into hell. But, since you aren't, perhaps you could give me a pass? Christmas spirit and all that?"

    Buffy just slammed him harder against the wall. "After being attacked by many santas, I'm not feeling very Christmassy."

    "The santas weren't my fault," said Ethan.

    "No, you just wanted us sucked into a pain dimension, that's much better."

    "You really are the most unpleasant human being I've ever met," said Giles, smiling a little at Buffy's roughhousing of his former friend.

    "Sorry?" tried Ethan.

    "Come on Buff," said Xander. "We could always hand him over to the Initiative?"

    "Yes, they would probably do painful and unecessary experiments on him," said Anya. "That would serve him right."

    "Please don't. I promise to be VERY good. Honestly. I'll leave town and never return."

    "I'd believe in leprechauns before I'd believe that," said Buffy.

    "Actually, I did meet a leprechaun once," said Ethan.


    "Oh, ok then, do what you want with me. But first... look! It's the REAL santa claus!"

    Even as they turned their heads to look, the Scoobies realized it was a trick... and yet, they turned, and looked.

    When they turned back, Ethan was gone, leaving only a slamming back door behind him.

    Buffy rolled her eyes. "You know what? I'll just kick his ass when he, predictably, comes back to town for his next bout of stupid."

    "I think that might be a little rash," said Giles.

    "Giles, chill. It's Christmas eve. Let's just go and be Christmassy."

    "She's right," said Xander. "There's eggs need nogging, and Charlie Brown Christmas episodes need watching."

    "Oh, alright then. But you'll be sorry. Or, quite possibly, I will be," grumbled Giles.

    And, do you know what? Just a few weeks later... he really was.

    The End (until A New Man)

    -- Robofrakkinawesome BANNER BY FRANCY --