From kristen@smirnov.net Thu Feb 13 15:45:21 2003 Date: Thu, 13 Feb 2003 15:42:32 -0600 From: Kristen Smirnov To: lina@sandwich.net Subject: Fic: Homogeneity (1/1) TITLE: Homogeneity AUTHOR: Kristen Smirnov (illyria@redshirts.net) PAIRING: Uh... everyone, I think. RATING: R SPOILERS: For the love of God, I hope not. DISCLAIMER: Buffy and Company are property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. I'm using them without permission, but with an unhealthy amount of love. ...Mostly. NOTES: I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry. This is all very stupid, and the idea wouldn't go away, and... I'm just very sorry. Happy Valentine's Day, regardless. "I am a strong, confident woman. I don't need crutches. I have everything I need right here inside me. And in front of me, I guess." Willow opened her eyes and surveyed the spread before her: crystals, herbs, candles in every shade of a somewhat subdued rainbow. The addition of an sight that should not have been there caught her eye, and that eye narrowed. The other quickly followed suit. "Did you get that from Dr. Phil?" "Why are you here, Andrew?" She picked up a sprig of lavender and thrust it at him like a rapier. "This is very touchy sensitive stuff and I'm not going to let you watch." The blossoms shook to punctuate each word. "Hey!" He held his hands up protectively against the threatening potpourri ingredient. "I do magic too, you know. I'm just curious about what you do, you know, tips for those in the trade. Please don't skin me. And can you get that out of my face, I'm kinda-" "No. Go away before I am forced to go all... naughty." "But they kicked me out of the living room." He somehow managed to look hangdog even while batting at the lavender. "Foldy skin guy brought over an X- Box, and he even brought the volleyball game with the Dead or Alive girls, but they won't let me play it. It's not fair! It's not like any of the stupid Slayer wannabes even care about how hot they are." Willow just looked at him. "Well, okay, there's the one girl who might like the bikinis." Save for one eyebrow shimmying up her forehead, Willow remained motionless. "Okay, I just think it's a really fun game, and it's the only way I'm ever gonna have a chance to beat them at something." The eyebrow went back down, but the eyes rolled. Andrew saw that and opened his mouth in what could only be another deluge of high-pitched whining. "Fine," Willow snapped. She jerked the lavender away with a faint 'thwip' sound and tossed it back on the silk scarf holding her ingredients. "I guess it's fine if you stay and watch, if you've done magic before." He beamed at her. "So you can help stop the spell if I get... you know, all..." "Evil?" he offered helpfully. "Possessed." "Was gonna say that next." She moved to grab a candle, then stopped with her thumb on the lighter. "Do you even care what we're doing, or do you just jump into whatever spell you see going on? Is that how you got all evil and... lame in the first place?" Her only answer was a fine impression of a deer seeing a thousand watt headlight, so she sighed and went into instructor mode. "You saw how bad Xander felt after the date that wasn't. I mean, wasn't in a typical sense. For Xander, that's pretty much how dates go. And I just feel so bad, watching him never be able to find a nice normal girl." "He found Anya." Willow's eyes made another run around the circuit of "Oh please." "Like I said, a nice normal girl. Someone who's not currently a demon, or an ex-demon, or an insane Slayer. Just someone nice and normal, like him." "So you're going to turn everyone normal so he doesn't have to worry? That's so nice of you." She focused on lighting candles rather than trying to meet his painfully earnest (and dorky) face. "No, not gonna try a global spell. That's... badness lies down that route. I'll leave the world wide to the web. Nope, this is just gonna make Xander only attracted to other normal humans. So even if there are demons out there, someone else will wind up with them." "I could summon a demon afterwards to test. A really sexy one." He swallowed hard at the flat look that earned. "Or I could sit here and be quiet and helpful." Willow took a deep, steadying breath. It was okay. She could do this. This was helpful magic, white magic. No need to be worried about getting possessed by the Big Bad when she was doing a Little Good. "Here," she said once she'd worked up enough nerve. Andrew opened his mouth to say something as he took the herbs and flowers, then thought better at her glare and shut it. Okay then, though the witch. "Strife and pain, lies and hate; no more warring for control of fate-" "Why do spells rhyme? It's so lame." She gritted her teeth. "No talking during the spell. I don't care if it is lame. And yes, it kind of is, but I need you to be totally quiet." He nodded and shrank back. Willow forcibly relaxed her jaw and repeated the first lines. "From this day on, in all love's games; Love's only found in those the same-" A truly spectacular sneeze from the boy opposite the candle circle sent her carefully prepared powders to scatter across the carpet. Three candles snuffed out, and with them the faintly glowing sphere that had appeared over the last few words. The energy fizzled for a moment, then flowed into the floor, spread out to the walls, and disappeared. "Like I said," Andrew said through sniffles and coughs. He pointed to the lavender and finished, "I'm kinda allergic." There are times when even the chirpiest of people can only find it in them to say, "Shit." * * * * * It made everything better that she was fessing up before she got caught, right? It had to be. So Willow very hesitantly approached a dinner-gathering Buffy and tugged on her sleeve. "I think I may have... kinda sorta screwed up a spell." Buffy stared at Willow for nearly two seconds in real concern before her expression turned bemused. "And this makes how many times? Do you still know who you are? Is some rampaging troll on the loose?" "This could be serious!" Willow stopped and reassessed her statement. "Well, okay, this one is probably safe, actually. Xander's not only attracted to demons now, right? He hasn't... turned into a demon, or tried summoning demons, anything like that?" "Don't think so, no, and not since dancing guy." Buffy blinked, then smiled. "Hey, wait, you were doing a spell? Like, on your own, go you?" "A teeny one. A really little one. I figured that hey, if I can do a little one, I don't need to be worried about the big ones." She sighed. "So, guess I do need to be worried about the big ones. Or medium ones. Even the teeny ones, since I can't do those without-" She realized she was talking to herself, as Buffy had wandered off to give another inspiring speech or something. Scowling, she grabbed an eggroll and then scurried off to the living room. That Buffy was checking everyone over for imminent horns or phenomenal cosmic powers turned her petulance knob back down to three. As she took that sight in, a gaggle of Potentials, ex-demons, current demons, and various and sundry other temporary residents of the house looked over at her. "Heya. Just checking that everyone feels okay." Anya blinked. "Is there some reason we shouldn't? Was the Chinese not good? Well, if we're all getting food poisoning, and there's only two bathrooms, I'm going home before the rush." "Not food. Um, magic. A spell may have gone a teensy bit awry, and I just wanted to make sure everyone's okay." "Again?" demanded Xander, Anya, Spike, Dawn, and Giles. Clem and the Potentials, otherwise known as the finest alternative band this side of the Sierras, stared at them and mouthed "again?" She paused, then pointed up the stairs. "It's Andrew's fault." The room collectively shrugged and communicated in various ways that yes, that made sense. They promptly let the warning flit out of their blissfully television drugged minds and turned back to hoping that Turk and Carla would have everything work out. Those who hadn't sampled the not-dangerous Chinese food yet rose to take their turn in the kitchen, with appropriate warnings about their seats still being there when they returned. "What is that?" Molly demanded as she poked at one of the takeout boxes. Spike peered in it. "Sweet n' sour... not sure. Probably something Clem picked out." He jerked back at something, then leaned back in with a faintly disgusted look on his face. "Sweet n' sour living foodstuff, looks like." "Ew." The girl very quickly gathered up a plate of plain, predictable fried and and scurried away from the demon chow. He shrugged, popped a won ton, and turned to the carpenter who was piling a plate full of the entire range of food choices. Spike smirked and decided not to give a warning on Clem's choice. "So, how'd that whole being bled above an ancient seal work for you?" "First, don't eat all the won tons." Xander claimed one, popped it, and moved on. "Second, ow. Third, they could use softer ropes. Also, fourth, ow!" "Baby. They barely took enough to fill a tea cup." "Because you know how much blood it takes to fill a tea cup." Spike shrugged. "Bit twee to drink it like that, but s'easy enough to make an educated guess." "Ugh." Xander moved to leave, then reconsidered and turned back to the other Danthazar victim. "Okay, I'll admit it. That was pretty big on the scary." "Well, I wasn't gonna say it first." "Wait." Xander grinned. "Big tough vampire guy was scared?" Spike managed to look terribly offended. "Not invulnerable, you know. Can still feel pain, especially when they manage to drain out every last drop of the red stuff. You didn't have to go through that." "Well, no, because if I had, I'd be dead." "So no complaining. 'Sides, you don't mention the scared issue, I don't mention the fact that the wheel look worked much better for me than for you." Spike snorted at the offended look that earned. "What? Did you get comments on your looks while you were being bled out? No." That damnable guilt filled him when he saw the expression that now came over Xander's face. "Oh, stop that." "Stop what? It's true. Between trying to work and help out here and plan a wedding and then deal with that wedding falling apart, I've packed on some pounds." Xander shot him a glare that spoke of future pain. "Don't you dare tell anyone I'm saying this. I'm not even telling you. But a guy can't complain about getting heavy to a bunch of girls, and I'm not gonna complain to Giles." "Could have a heart to heart with the annoying kid." Xander just looked at Spike. Spike grinned, then finally felt bad enough to roll his eyes, look away, and assure him, "You're not some hideous demon, if that's what you're worried about." "Thanks. I think." They just grinned at each other, basking in the light of temporary camaraderie that was sure to fade as soon as they stepped back through the kitchen door. Xander turned to the window, checking his reflection against the night to verify that he wasn't actually a hideous demon. He turned back with a smile on his face. "Guess it's not so bad." "Right." "Right." Asked the next day, neither would be able to say exactly what was the final prompt for them to wind up in a fierce kiss with their hands on the other's ass. It took a good ten seconds before they finally realized what was happening. When they did, they shot away from each other so quickly that glasses were broken in the process. "What the hell are you doing?" Xander squealed. "No, this is all you, Harris! What, do you jump on anyone who gives you a backhanded compliment? Fine, you are some hideous demon! Stay the hell away from me!" "Spell. Gotta be that spell." Xander took several deep, steadying breaths. "God, I wasn't serious. I wasn't serious when I said to gay me up! It's that wonked spell!" "It bloody well better be." Xander and Spike darted further apart from each other, wide-eyed and feeling the need to find a beer or scratch themselves. Instead, they quickly proceeded to the living room and surveyed the viewers of Must See TV. "Uh," Xander hesitantly began. "So, we're sort of thinking that the spell, uh...." Spike elbowed him in the side. Xander jerked away from the contact until he realized that a sharp jab to the ribs typically serves as an attention-getter, not a come-on. "What?" he hissed. "Harris," Spike began as he looked around the room with increasing concern, "where's Buffy?" A moment passed before Xander could respond. "Got a better question for you. Where's Anya?" * * * * * "I call him 'Leroy,'" Anya cheerfully explained as she selected the 'on' portion of her strap-on. "Baddest man in the whole damn town," Buffy finished with no small amount of awe. * * * * * "I am not looking at your ass." "Harris, I'm in front of you on the bloody stairs. Either open your eyes or get ready for a tumble." "That's British slang, isn't it? Isn't it!" Spike turned and made every effort to not audibly grind his teeth in annoyance. "A tumble. Down the stairs. Which you're trying to climb with your eyes screwed shut." "AHA!" Spike spent no more time on the panicked boy, and instead turned his attention back to tracking two pheromone trails which he was intimately acquainted with. Had to say, though, he'd never sensed both of them being quite so strong at the same time. Was a bit overwhelming. It was a quick tracking job up the stairs and down the hall to the spot in front of Buffy's door. Xander followed, a safe five seconds behind. The two men stared at the door. More accurately, their eyes happened to be pointed in the direction of the door while they momentarily took leave of all senses save hearing. Giggles and moans filtered through the wood, made by two distinct and recognizable voices. "So," Xander began. "Yeah." "Buffy and Anya." Xander nodded. "Two very hot girls. Together." He managed to keep a composed facade for an impressive time before finally cracking and asking in a panic, "So why is this not really cool?" Spike didn't answer. He was too busy trying to dredge up some response to the situation beyond surprise. "So. Um. Our..." Xander sighed and began anew. "A couple of incredibly hot girls are going at it like rabid weasels just behind that door. We can hear them. And I don't care." Spike swallowed and tried his damnedest to care. Memories of old times spent in the crypt were brought up, the faint guilt that always overlaid even the best moments not being enough to counter the desperate need to make a grasp for masculinity. There was the handcuffs scene. That had been a wild time. Writhing around on the floor, the posts of the bed above to hold the cuffs in place and the Oriental rug below to protect naked flesh from the chill of the stone. That had been a brilliant rug. Too bad it'd wound up fried, it would go in the living room- The vampire somehow managed to turn a whiter shade of pale. The two men stared at the door for nearly a full minute. Muffled gasps and giggles could be heard through the wall, but they were too lost in their own personal reassessments to notice. "So," Xander finally said. "Yeah." "Wanna go make out again?" Spike turned to him and stared. After another few seconds had ticked by, he shrugged. "Sure, all right." * * * * * That Buffy had disappeared had to mean something had gone wrong. Well, and Anya, but Willow didn't care about her so much. "Leave me alone!" Willow ordered the puppy tagging at her heels. She rounded sharply on Andrew and poked a finger at him. He flinched, so she did it a few more times. "I'm trying to fix your mess, and it's not helping that you're shadowing me everywhere I go!" He began to pull back, then stopped with a contemplative look on his face. "But... you were the one who was doing a spell without telling anyone. You were totally gonna brainwash somebody without even telling him about it!" He folded his arms across his chest and gave one defiant, dramatic nod. She considered giving in to his superior moral ground for approximately .6 seconds. "Andrew, go do something else before I lose my temper." After a momentary debate between fainting and fleeing, Andrew turned and skedaddled. Willow nodded and proceeded down the basement steps. If the magic had filtered outward and downward, then it was likely she would be able to sense it down here and become more attuned to whatever she'd accidentally done. Then she could undo it and everything would be okay and no one would be mad and oh God someone was down here. She was able to process three things before her brain seized up: Platinum blonde hair. Messy black hair that, as always, needed a haircut. The handcuffs bolted to the wall. The basement occupants didn't even notice the heavy footsteps that followed Willow fleeing back up the stairs for the sake of her sanity. * * * * * "Maybe it's not a spell." Willow just stared at Kennedy for a good five seconds before responding. "Huh?" was all she managed. "I mean it. Playing for the same team's so much easier than trying to figure out some visitors' rules." She shrugged and threw back a drink. "Maybe we just inspired them." "Maybe they're bored," Andrew offered. "I mean, everyone here's slept with everyone else, so they needed to just mix it up a little. Like random team selection for a game, and I still haven't gotten to play volley-" Willow held up a hand to ward off any further absurd suggestions. "Believe me. I know it's a spell." She shuddered delicately and explained, "I've patrolled with Xander. Seen him in 'fight for your life' mode." Another shudder went down her spine as she finished, "And he is not that flexible." "Ew." Kennedy shuddered. "Ew," Willow confirmed. She tapped thoughtfully on the coffee table, right up until she saw the couple stumbling down the foyer. After taking the time to confirm she had the right names for the liplocked girls, she sighed and ordered, "Dawn, Vi, put your tongues back in your own mouths." "What? No!" "Dawnie, it's a spell. You're not really into the Lilith Fair persuasion. Please, I already have enough of a headache." "I never get to date anyone!" Dawn wailed as she stormed out the front door, slamming it behind her. Vi rounded on them all. Tears were beading in her eyes. "She was going to show me how she conditions her hair," she said through a choked throat. "She loved me that much. I hate you!" "Vi, you've gotta understand, it's just a spell-" "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!" "Oh no," Willow whispered as Vi ran up the stairs. "It's contagious." "Is it just me, or is everyone here more insane than is normal for them?" "It's not just you," Willow confirmed as she sank onto the couch next to Kennedy. "Everyone's really crazy. I mean, yay for the gay, but not with a bunch of straight people who are hopping into bed with the first person with the same equipment they see." The other girl considered for a moment. "Casual sex after watching Will and Grace? Wow," said Kennedy in desert dry tones. "You didn't just turned them all gay, you turned them stereotype gay. I'm impressed. Is Mr. Giles gonna start mincing?" "No! ...And if he does, it's just because he's British. Now be quiet and let me concentrate!" "So why are we three able to think about stuff besides hopping into bed? Well, okay, in addition to." Willow considered Kennedy's question, then motioned to her, herself, and Andrew. "Well, we're gay to start off with. Maybe it needs to make a change to really have an effect. And then... what an effect." The basement scene flitted back into her head and she shuddered. "I'm not gay!" Andrew protested. "I just... like the company of other guys. Like Legolas and Gimli!" "Oh God!" Willow wailed helplessly. "I'm never going to get my brain scrubbed clean!" "Can't you mojo up a way to find out what's causing all of them to go wonky?" Kennedy asked. "If magic started all this, then it should be able to fix it. So long as Andrew can't cause problems again, and I'll just pin him down so that doesn't happen." Ignoring Andrew's wide-eyed look of panic, Willow screwed her courage to a somewhat unsteady sticking place and nodded. She detailed the requirements and left it up to the other two to find the ingredients, choosing to try and center herself in the time left. They returned in what seemed like far too little time. She poked uncertainly at Kennedy's suggestion for her impromptu non-aquatic dowsing stick. "A ruler?" "Look, you needed something wooden than had been touched by someone under the spell." "And?" "The vengeance demon is apparently into role-playing a school teacher." "Ew, ew, ew." Willow dangled it from between two fingers and sprinkled the dried herbs and salts on the naughty school implement. The faint prickings of powerful magic began to pull at her brain, and a surge of fear had to be shoved down and stomped out. The prickling became too strong to simply ignore when she began the chant. The earlier spell might have gone unnoticed, but now whatever dark forces wanted to cozy up to her and say hello were well aware that magic was going down. Had she opened her eyes, she would have seen the faint black cloud surrounding the ruler, as well as the tendrils that began to snake up her hand. A crack of thunder echoed through the room. Kennedy jumped and tried to give Willow's arm a comforting squeeze, only to jump back from the shock that sent her hand to twitching. "I am a strong, confident woman," Andrew babbled to himself as he rocked back and forth. "I don't need crutches." "Shut up, Andrew." Willow rubbed her temples and tried very hard to think about anything besides the sweet temptation of having ol' black eyes back. The magic funneling through her began to build to the point of pain. Tears beaded and began to fall just as she finally found herself holding the completed dowsing stick for the supernatural. One sigh of relief later, she was following her magic ruler out the room and through a second door. Kennedy followed close behind, keeping Andrew far enough away to prevent any further screw ups. It pulled her through to the kitchen, past the island, and to the counter with its spread of Chinese takeout leftovers. "The food!" she cried. "It all got sucked into the food!" "So do you need to dispel it or something? Or does it, uh, pass?" Willow focused on the bits of pork and rice for a moment, then shook her head. "The magical matrices have already degraded a lot. Food spells are a lot like caffeine: big rush, then it all goes away. And you have a headache and can't sleep." "So why the food, instead of... water, or a couch?" Willow shrugged. "I guess MSG absorbs magic." "Wow, it really is bad for you," Kennedy marveled. * * * * * All that was left was the big apology scene. Considering the source of the problem, she somehow felt cookies weren't appropriate this time. "I'm really sorry," Willow muttered. "Why are you sorry?" Anya patted her on the shoulder. "I got to have very good sex. Thank you." Buffy shuddered. Willow smiled at her apologetically and repeated her contrite words. "No, it's okay," Buffy assured her, even if she still looked more than a bit green. "This big screw-up is all on Andrew's shoulders." "Okay, then I'm sorry that I was stupid enough to let him help." Buffy considered that. "Okay, you can make that up to us later." The group sat in silence for a moment. Anyone looking at them would have seen specific pairings sitting as far from each other as was physically possible. "So, tomorrow's Valentine's Day," Dawn finally said. "I'm thinking we'll call it Friday," Buffy said. They nodded and looked at anything but each other. "Friday's good."