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Politics Suck	By : CatDeChanis Category: Anita Blake > Crossovers > AB/BtVS Views: 7458 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own BTVS or Anita Blake; Joss Whedon and the author of the Anita books make the money, not me.

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or worlds of BTVS/ATS and Anita Blake. The creators of these worlds have far more talent and money than I do.

Warnings: SLASH. Also known as GUY-ON-GUY sex and WOMAN-ON-WOMAN sex. I don’t know how much plainer I can make it, and this warning will remain for the entire story, just to be safe. Eh, mentions of past abuse and general foul language. The warnings will change for each chapter – it depends on who I’m writing about. After all *authoress pauses to smirk and lick her lips* does anyone think sex with Asher would be very vanilla? Spoilers for “Blood Noir” throughout the rest of the story, so if you haven’t read that yet, you may want to before proceeding – otherwise, A LOT of the men’s interactions with Jean Claude aren’t going to make sense.

Chapter 3: Puppies and Kitties

Willow, Dawn, and Xander were having a random quotes contest on their way to the furniture store. (For those who are interested, Willow was driving.) They were trying to think of as many catch-y quotes as possible, either stuff they’d seen on tee-shirts and bumper stickers, or famous (to them) phrases from movies and books.

“You laugh at me because I’m different. I laugh at you because you’re ugly.” That was Dawn, who made the others snicker when she didn’t say the expected second half of the phrase.

“I didn’t do it. You can’t prove it. Nobody saw me. The sheep are LYING!!” Xander, naturally.

“I poke badgers with spoons,” Willow said, earning herself strange looks from Dawn and Xander.

“If I throw a stick, will you go away?” Dawn drawled.

Xander smiled. “Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting. Amelia Atwater-Rhodes. Not bad vamp fiction, and I don’t really read that stuff.”

“The reason for your unreasonable treatment of my reason so enfeebles my reason that I have reason to complain of your reason,” Willow said promptly, and proudly. “Don Quixote! I love that book.”

“If you have to choose between two evils, choose the evil you haven’t done before,” Dawn said, earning suspicious looks from Xander and Willow.

“Who told you that one, Dawnie?” Willow wanted to know.

“Spike, of course.”

“Of course,” Xander muttered disgustedly, then continued, “My therapist says it’s all your fault.”

“It’s always good to know things aren’t one hundred percent hopeless,” Willow said, and Xander and Dawn joined her in chorusing, “Just ninety-nine percent.”

“He who is good at making excuses is seldom good for anything else. Ben Franklin,” Dawn said.

“The trouble with morning is that it comes at such an ungodly hour,” Xander said, and the others muttered agreement.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to myself,” Willow said sternly, making the others chuckle.

“Never underestimate the power of stupid people; i.e., in large groups. Case in point: Sunnydale,” Dawn said.

“Hear, hear,” Xander and Willow muttered together just as Willow pulled the Expedition into the parking lot of what looked to be a classy furniture store. There was a limo parked outside as well, earning many wide-eyed looks.

“Will, are you SURE we can afford to buy all this furniture and stuff?” Xander wanted to know.

“I’m positive,” Willow said patiently. “Xander, combined the three of us have over a four million dollars in insurance policies, back-pay from the Council, and hazard pay that Giles gave us for this trip.”

“Fuckin’ SWEET!!” Xander whooped. He snatched Mira out of her carseat and tore for the entrance of the store, both man and child shouting gleefully.

Dawn sighed dramatically. “Children.” She couldn’t, however, keep her own expression of delight from showing.

Willow chuckled. “Did you pick out which room you wanted for yours when you were dancing with Xander earlier?”

“Yep.”

“Have fun then.”

***

Jason drove Jean Claude’s limo to the most reputable furniture store in town under dire threats of pain and torture from Anita to behave. When Jason had said pain could be fun under the right circumstances, Anita had retorted, “Not if you’re NOT in my bed for the next month.” The threat had immediately shut the wolf up, amusing the rest of the group, and the ride to the store passed in relative peace and quiet.

Now Anita and Micah were arguing over whether or not to get one of the special weight distribution mattresses – the ones that wouldn’t allow a sleeper to waken if another crawled onto the bed. Micah was for it – it would allow those present in the bed an easier time of it at night. Anita was against it, not liking something that could hamper her reflexes in any way.

Jason had wandered over to the double beds, and was testing mattresses for softness and for squeaks (which he hated) when he heard laughter – a man’s and a child’s.

“Unca’ Xan, you loo’ silly,” said a girl’s voice.

“Oh yeah?” came the laughing retort. “How’s THIS, then?” A shout of laughter rang from the girl, followed by a loud squeaking noise.

“Xander, you and Mira better not be breaking the beds. Someone might want to buy one,” another voice, a woman’s warm, affectionate alto joined in.

“But Dawnie, we gots ta bounce,” the child protested.

“How come?”

“”Cause we gots ta fin’ da BES’ one ta brin’ back,” the child explained. “So’s we c’n bounce a’ home, too.”

“Ohhhh,” the woman drawled. “That explains it.”

Jason, amused by the conversation, peeked around a corner to see an interesting sight. A handsome young man wearing an eyepatch over his left eye was currently doing a headstand on one of the bigger beds that had a solid oak form, his feet sticking straight up in the air and his back pressed firmly against the headboard. A little girl toddler with curly black hair was doing her best to imitate him, but without the headboard to lean against kept falling over. A young woman with long brown hair and vividly crimson highlights stood to the side of the bed watching them both in amusement.

“Hi,” Jason called to them.

“Hello,” came the cheerful chorus from all three of them, none moving from their respective positions, amusing Jason further.

“So, I heard part of what you were saying,” Jason confessed. He grinned at the toddler. “Have ya found any REALLY bouncy beds?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yeppers! Dis one-“ she indicated the one they were currently occupying, “and dat one over dere.” She pointed to the bed directly to the left of theirs.

“Cool.” Jason made a dash for the unoccupied bed and jumped on it, landing in the middle of the mattress and bouncing a good foot and a half into the air. “Hey, pretty good! Thanks!”

“Welcome!” the toddler chirped back. Then she tilted her head to the side, and asked a question Jason wasn’t expecting at all. “Are you a puppy?”

Jason stared blankly. “Uhhhh…”

“Mira, you don’t ask people that, remember?” the girl said ruefully.

“Oops,” the toddler said. “Sorry.” Her gaze glanced behind Jason, and she squealed suddenly, “Kitty!!” and scrambled off the bed, racing on unsteady legs straight for Nathaniel, who had come up behind Jason in curiosity, and throwing her arms around his calves.

“Mira, let the poor guy go, yeah?” the man said, flipping right side up. Jason noted in a distracted manner that he really was very handsome; the eyepatch added a touch of rogue-ish charm to his masculine face and muscled build.

“Bu’ Unca’ Xan, he’s a KITTY,” the little girl protested.

“And I’m sure he’s wondering why you’ve latched onto him like a limpet,” the girl said lightly, but both Jason and Nathaniel saw a flash of alertness show in her eyes, and both shifters also noted how the man shifted his weight so that he could more easily get off the bed if it was required.

The toddler beamed up at Nathaniel. “I love kitties.”

Nathaniel crouched down carefully, and the girl transferred her grip from his calves to one of us upper arms. “Why do you call me a kitty?” he asked curiously, not minding the affectionate touch.

The little girl peered into his eyes for a long moment, and the piercing intensity of her gaze made the hackles of both shifters rise a bit. She smiled. “Leo-pard,” she said carefully and distinctly, making both of their eyes widen. “Am I right? Am I?”

Nathaniel blinked at her, but saw no reason to deny it – not when it didn’t seem to bother her or her guardians in the least. “Yes, you are.” The positively gleeful look on her face made him smile a little, himself, even as he asked, “How did you know that, sweetheart?”

She smiled. “Just did. Unca’ Xan says I gots ta pra’tice ta get bedder, though. No fun, ‘cause I already KNOW wha’ everyone else in da fam’ly is.”

*This child is not two years old* was what both Jason and Nathaniel were thinking.

“So when you asked if I was a puppy, what did you think I was?” Jason asked with great interest, keeping an eye on the man and woman, who were observing the conversation without interfering.

“Wolf,” the little girl said without a single moment’s hesitation.

“Got it in one,” Jason informed her.

She grinned at him. “I ALWAYS know when dere’s a wolf ‘round, cuz a’ Unca’ Oz.”

“Who’s he?” Jason asked, fascinated.

“Wolf li’ you, on’y he-“

“Baby, I don’t think Oz wants you talking about that, remember?” the man spoke up, gently stopping the toddler from further explanation.

“’Kay.” Without missing a beat, the little girl returned her attention to Nathaniel. “I’m Mira, wha’s your name?”

Nathaniel smiled down into wide chocolate eyes that glowed with far more intelligence than was readily apparent at first glance. “I’m Nathaniel, Mira. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice te meetcha, too,” the little girl sang back, then turned and repeated her introduction to Jason, looking at the playful wolf expectantly.

“I’m Jason,” he told the girl readily, then looked curiously at the man and woman.

The man swung his legs over the side of the bed in a relaxed motion, and reached across the space between the two beds to offer Jason his hand. “I’m Xander. Nice to meet you.” There was no hidden fear or disgust in the man that the shifters could sense or smell, only a mild curiosity and general goodwill. When Jason shook his hand, he sensed nothing out of the ordinary, other than the fact that the other man had calluses on his palm that could only have come from handling weapons of some kind. Used to that feeling from so many of his acquaintances, Jason paid more attention to the good, firm grip the man used when they shook hands and the way Xander met his gaze fully. The man was being honest in his goodwill.

“I’m Dawn,” the girl said easily enough, but didn’t offer to shake hands with either of the two shifters. Her gaze was the more wary of the two adults. She tilted her chin to indicate something behind the shifters. “Who are they?”

Jason looked over his shoulder. Jean Claude and Asher, bored with watching Anita and Micah “discuss” their bedroom furniture, had followed Nathaniel and witnessed the entire meeting from beginning to end.
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Politics Suck