![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoggedTitle: Could Really Use A Wish Right Now
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and co. own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I do not. Please donâ't sue.
Pairing: Anya, Sandy
Rating: FRT-13/PG-13
Word Count: 670
Summary: What if Anya had sought out Sandy to help her become a vengeance demon again?
Betas: The marvelous![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
velvetwhip and the lovely snowpuppies. Any other mistakes are mine.
Author's Note: written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash_minis. brutti_ma_buoni requested the following: Anya, Sandy, time fold, vamp!Sandy or demon!Anya (or both), 'her lips were blue.' I didn't quite manage demon!Anya, but I think I came close. Hope you enjoy it!
Give me a beer.
It's a common line in a bar, one that could be spoken by any number of people on a given night at the Bronze.
Men.
Women.
High school kids with bad fake IDs.
Yet it's the voice that pulls Sandy's attention away from her vodka cranberry (which she's pretending is a Type O Neg cocktail from Willy's because that would be so much better right now. The real thing certainly wouldn't hurt either and she's betting this voice comes attached to a neck.)
Before she can check said neck out though, she's hit with a memory from years ago. A memory that's not quite faded. A memory from the day she'd walked into the Bronze, expecting a blind date to show up. Instead, she found herself at the mercy of a skanky leather-clad vampire who had wanted to bring a whole new regime to Sunnydale.
A regime that promised youth, strength, and fun.
Sandy didn't get to experience any of that fun, even though she had been turned. Instead, she'd been left alone in a town run by the Slayer and vampire gangs full of morons. She'd been left in a world that didn't get her, didn't understand her, didn't want her.
It was all Willow's fault.
Sandy sighs, crushing her cocktail straw between her long, slender fingers.
Bitch.
"Actually, make that two." The woman who caught Sandy's attention turns to look at her. "Or is beer not girly enough for you? I understand that many women like to get their 3-4 servings of fruit in a glass tumbler, but I much prefer something I can really wrap my hands around. Beer bottles are just so deliciously phallic, you know?" The woman flashes Sandy a charming smile. "Hi, I'm Anya."
Sandy stares for a moment, trying to decide how to interpret Anya's bluntness. After a moment, though, she decides to chuckle. Her upper lip pulls back, revealing her nice white human teeth. Always better to win them over with her pretty face instead of her true one. "I'm Sandy."
"I know. I also know you're a vampire, so cut the crap," Anya replies coolly. "You're Willow's girl, right? I mean, not this universe's Willow because she's like a super goody-two-shoes, but the other one? The leather mama with the riding crop fetish?"
"Uh...yes," Sandy says hesitantly.
"How would you feel about seeing her again?"
"I wish I could," Sandy admits. "I would love to give her a piece of mind and tell her to go fuck herself."
Anya perks up. "What else do you wish? Do you wish she was never born? That her lips would turn blue from eating too many blue raspberry Popsicles? That she would be sent to a world without shrimp?"
Shrimp? Sandy thinks briefly as Anya continues to babble on.
"I used to be able to make that stuff happen back in the day. I mean, I still could. I'd just have to be a vengeance demon again. Or, we could cut out the middle man and do a time-fold spell, maybe find my old necklace, and presto change-o, you get yourself a dead sire. That sound good?"
Sandy arches an eyebrow. This chick is seriously crackers. She can' help but think that biting this bitch would be a serious waste and it would probably end up like that time when she bit the stoner at the Phish concert last year and she spent six hours marveling at the swishy movement of her hair against the back of her neck.
"I think I'll pass," Sandy replies.
The bartender finally sets their beers down on the counter and Anya takes a large swig of hers before she leans over and captures Sandy's lips with her own. It's not hard for Sandy to respond to Anya's ministrations. The thing she's doing with her tongue is just fucking spectacular.
"How about now?" Anya smirks, pulling back.
Sandy ponders the offer for a moment and nods.
After all, she always heard the crazy ones have more fun.
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and co. own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I do not. Please donâ't sue.
Pairing: Anya, Sandy
Rating: FRT-13/PG-13
Word Count: 670
Summary: What if Anya had sought out Sandy to help her become a vengeance demon again?
Betas: The marvelous
velvetwhip and the lovely snowpuppies. Any other mistakes are mine.Author's Note: written for
femslash_minis. brutti_ma_buoni requested the following: Anya, Sandy, time fold, vamp!Sandy or demon!Anya (or both), 'her lips were blue.' I didn't quite manage demon!Anya, but I think I came close. Hope you enjoy it!Give me a beer.
It's a common line in a bar, one that could be spoken by any number of people on a given night at the Bronze.
Men.
Women.
High school kids with bad fake IDs.
Yet it's the voice that pulls Sandy's attention away from her vodka cranberry (which she's pretending is a Type O Neg cocktail from Willy's because that would be so much better right now. The real thing certainly wouldn't hurt either and she's betting this voice comes attached to a neck.)
Before she can check said neck out though, she's hit with a memory from years ago. A memory that's not quite faded. A memory from the day she'd walked into the Bronze, expecting a blind date to show up. Instead, she found herself at the mercy of a skanky leather-clad vampire who had wanted to bring a whole new regime to Sunnydale.
A regime that promised youth, strength, and fun.
Sandy didn't get to experience any of that fun, even though she had been turned. Instead, she'd been left alone in a town run by the Slayer and vampire gangs full of morons. She'd been left in a world that didn't get her, didn't understand her, didn't want her.
It was all Willow's fault.
Sandy sighs, crushing her cocktail straw between her long, slender fingers.
Bitch.
"Actually, make that two." The woman who caught Sandy's attention turns to look at her. "Or is beer not girly enough for you? I understand that many women like to get their 3-4 servings of fruit in a glass tumbler, but I much prefer something I can really wrap my hands around. Beer bottles are just so deliciously phallic, you know?" The woman flashes Sandy a charming smile. "Hi, I'm Anya."
Sandy stares for a moment, trying to decide how to interpret Anya's bluntness. After a moment, though, she decides to chuckle. Her upper lip pulls back, revealing her nice white human teeth. Always better to win them over with her pretty face instead of her true one. "I'm Sandy."
"I know. I also know you're a vampire, so cut the crap," Anya replies coolly. "You're Willow's girl, right? I mean, not this universe's Willow because she's like a super goody-two-shoes, but the other one? The leather mama with the riding crop fetish?"
"Uh...yes," Sandy says hesitantly.
"How would you feel about seeing her again?"
"I wish I could," Sandy admits. "I would love to give her a piece of mind and tell her to go fuck herself."
Anya perks up. "What else do you wish? Do you wish she was never born? That her lips would turn blue from eating too many blue raspberry Popsicles? That she would be sent to a world without shrimp?"
Shrimp? Sandy thinks briefly as Anya continues to babble on.
"I used to be able to make that stuff happen back in the day. I mean, I still could. I'd just have to be a vengeance demon again. Or, we could cut out the middle man and do a time-fold spell, maybe find my old necklace, and presto change-o, you get yourself a dead sire. That sound good?"
Sandy arches an eyebrow. This chick is seriously crackers. She can' help but think that biting this bitch would be a serious waste and it would probably end up like that time when she bit the stoner at the Phish concert last year and she spent six hours marveling at the swishy movement of her hair against the back of her neck.
"I think I'll pass," Sandy replies.
The bartender finally sets their beers down on the counter and Anya takes a large swig of hers before she leans over and captures Sandy's lips with her own. It's not hard for Sandy to respond to Anya's ministrations. The thing she's doing with her tongue is just fucking spectacular.
"How about now?" Anya smirks, pulling back.
Sandy ponders the offer for a moment and nods.
After all, she always heard the crazy ones have more fun.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2013-06-03 10:53 pm (UTC)Gabrielle
no subject
on 2013-06-03 10:55 pm (UTC)I could see this happening and having Sandy help Anya get her power center back would be coup and go a long way to impressing D'Hoffryn.
no subject
on 2013-06-04 01:16 am (UTC)no subject
on 2013-06-04 01:16 am (UTC)no subject
on 2013-06-04 09:01 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-06-04 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-06-25 03:53 pm (UTC)...and beer bottles are indeed delightfully phallic :D
no subject
on 2013-06-28 02:36 am (UTC)