Title: Bad Vodka, Bad!
Author: Clare
Email: clare@solomon29.freeserve.co.uk
Pairings: Xander/Riley sort of; Xander/surprise!
Programme: "Buffy: The Vampire Slayer"
Rating: PG-13
Series: None
Status: Complete
Archive: Surely you wouldn't want to?!
Disclaimer: The characters and location herein belong to Joss Whedon and
Warner
Brothers  and no profit is being made from this story.
Spoilers: A few events from the latest season are mentioned.
Feedback:  Yes, please!
Summary: An commentary on the dangers of too much vodka<g>.
Dedication: For Eileen who got me thinking about  Xander and Riley.
Notes: I apologise for the fact that this is *really* silly!

 

Bad Vodka, Bad!

 

by Clare




"Red noses," Xander giggled.  "Little, plastic, stick-on red noses!"  He was
watching some English programme, a comedy, he guessed.  It had to be a
comedy, 'cos everyone was wearing these little red creatures . which he was
beginning to think were rather cool.  A new fashion accessory.  He took
another gulp of vodka.  "Why don't they sell useful things like that in
Sunnydale?  Why should England get the good stuff?"

England.  Giles was in England.  Anya was away somewhere sulking.  Riley
was . somewhere hot.  He sighed.  "I miss Riley."  He frowned.  Why was he
thinking about Riley?  Riley had been Buffy's boyfriend; shouldn't it be
Anya that he was thinking about?  Because he did love her.  He really did.
Really.  It was just that he seemed to spend a lot of time thinking about
Riley.  Especially when he was drunk - he took another slug of vodka - which
he probably was right now.  He leaned forward to change channels on the
battered old TV set, to see if there was anything of an adult nature
anywhere, but he slipped and the floor thudded into him.

"Ow!" he complained and passed out.

*    *   *

"Xander, I had to see you."

He recognised that voice.  "Riley?" He raised his head and looked blearily
about him, then gaped at the sprawled figure in front of him.  "Riley!
You-you shouldn't be naked!" he exclaimed, shocked.  He grabbed something
from the table beside him and tossed it over the soldier's penis.

Riley looked at him with a raised eyebrow, then looked down at the red nose
sitting on the end of his penis, then looked back at him and shrugged.
"Could start a new fashion," he commented.

"Yes!  That is exactly what I was thinking; I should import red noses to
sell in Sunnydale.  I could become a millionnaire overnight.  Don't you
think they're cool?"  He looked at Riley, only to find that the man was just
inches away from him and that they were lying on a bed covered by a
camoflage-coloured quilt.  "I'm naked," he realised.  "When the hell did I
get naked too?"

Riley gazed adoringly at him. "Xander, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Me?  You mean Buffy.  Don't you?"  Xander wasn't sure whether he wanted the
man to say 'yes' or 'no' at this point.  As he continued to look into the
other man's beautiful blue eyes the words stopped mattering.

They kissed and it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before.  Then
Riley kissed his naked body and started doing stuff to him that he'd never
tried before but that felt really *really*  good .

*   *   *

"Oh, Riley!"  He kissed the cold lips of his lover.  "Yes!"  He kissed the
man again, and it occurred to him to wonder why Riley felt so cold.  He
opened his eyes.  And shrieked.

"Errr!" Spike yelped simultaneously and they scrambled away from each other
on the bed.

"What, what, how ..?" Xander stuttered.  "It's my bed!"

"I jus' came 'ere to talk about Buf. to talk.  I'd been drinking."  He
gestured to an empty vodka bottle.

"Vodka!"  Xander gestured to the half-bottle he'd consumed.  "It was the
vodka's fault!  It made us do stuff - did we do stuff?"

"Christ, I 'ope not!" Spike exclaimed with a shudder of revulsion.

"Hey!" Xander objected.  "Some people actually want to have sex with me.
Anya!  She'd kill me if ."

"Yeah, Buf-people . *people* mustn't know about this," Spike said, pulling
on his leather pants.

"Right.  It was the vodka.  No one else gets told about this."

"Ever," Spike agreed, grabbing his long coat.  He strode to the basement
door, threw a horrified, perplexed glance at Xander, then marched out.

Xander moved out from under his quilt and began to dress, thinking, as he
so, of the night before.  He grabbed the bottles of vodka and dumped them in
a trash bag then, as he straightened, he caught a glimpse of something red.
His eyes widened and his heartbeat went erratic, before he realised that it
was just the edge of a T-shirt.  Perhaps importing those red noses to
Sunnydale wasn't such a good idea after all; maybe they were a bit too
extreme a fashion statement for this town .

The End



 


 

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