Title: Aspect of a Demon
Fandom: BtVS
Character/Pairing: Buffy, Giles, Xander, Willow, smatterings of Cordy and Snyder
Genre: Crack/Humor
Rating: PG
Warnings (highlight to see): **vague mentioning of penis and sex, very occasional mild swearing, total crack, demonic pimples**
Disclaimer
Summary: In an AU of 'Earshot', Buffy thinks she's discovered what her demon aspect is.
Word Count: about 2,500
X-Posted: all_fics_btvs, btvsats_love, buffy_fanfic, gen_storyteller
Beta: It's a bird, it's a plane, it's super-snowpuppies!

A/N: Hmmm, haven't posted in a while, but here I am. I had some fun with this, especially the dialogue-only part.



Aspect of a Demon


“Oh, God, it's hideous.”

“Now, Buffy, I think you’re overreacting just a little. You look fine.”

“Fine? I don't look fine, Mom, I look terrible. Don’t I look terrible?”

“Buffy, really, this sort of thing happens to every teenager once in a while. You just need to calm down and get ready for school.”

“Every teenager? How can you say that when I—ohhhh, this is the whole mom thing of pretending it’s not a big deal to make me feel better, huh? Well, unfortunately it’s not really working. Ugh, how can I go to school like…oh! I know what this is! This is my demonic aspect, isn’t it?”

“Your what? What on earth are you talking about?”

“No time to explain, Mom, I have to go to school and tell Giles.”

“Oh, alright, dear, whatever you say. Don’t forget your lunch.”

***
“Giles, I know what it is.”

“Know what what is?”

“My aspect of the demon. You know, I fought that demon a few nights ago, his blood mixed with mine—and then I was supposed to get all aspect-y with it. Well, I know what it is.”

“Really? Is it a kind of telepathy, because creatures that don’t have mouths generally—”

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t see it, I’m perfectly aware how obvious it is.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re trying to say, Buffy.”

“Um, duh, Mr. Clueless. Right there, on my cheek! How much more noticeable does it get?”

“What—oh, for God’s sake—common acne is hardly a demonic feature. You’re simply overreacting because you haven’t had to deal with these sorts of…pitfalls before.”

“This is hardly a pitfall, Giles, this is an emergency. I have a demonic pimple on my face, and we have to get rid of it.”

“Don't be absurd, Buffy.”

“Just…look in your books. We’ll need to know how to deal with this effectively, okay?”

“Ah…all right, Buffy, I’ll look in my books for something. But really, I have a feeling the best person to help you right now would be Willow. She could probably do a spell to determine the exact properties of this whole…scenario.”

“Right. Great idea! You get on the book-cracking, and—and I'll get to the friend-cracking. Uh—maybe minus the cracking.”

“Teenagers. Honestly, sometimes…”

***
“Oof! Oh, sorry, Cordelia.”

“Watch it, spaz, that’s my very expensive leather jacket you just ran into. Where’d you get your coat, K-Mart?”

“If you must know, I got this coat at Nordstrom’s.”

“Yeah, I find that hard to believe. And nice zit, by the way. It really adds to the look.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that this is a result of Slaying. Practically a battle scar, really. I have to make sacrifices like this to save the world, and—and all you think about is your next date.”

“Sure. Looks like you’ve just discovered your inner oily complexion and don’t want to admit it. And your inner bag lady, from the state of your outfit.”

“What did you just say?”

“Ooh, I should watch out—you might push my 'tolerance of freaks' meter too far and kill me.”

“Of all the nerve—ugh. This is not a good day for me.”

***
“Willow, I need you to do a spell for me.”

“Uh, okay. What kinda spell?”

“Well, I don’t really know, exactly. Something that’ll…y’know, reveal the true nature of my demonic aspect.”

“Oh, you want to know what it will be? Really, I think it’s best to just wait that one out, Buffy, no spell’s going to be completely accurate in predicting that sort of thing. I mean, the future can really go any which-way, so it’s not very useful to try and figure out which way's which ahead of time. I know you’re worried about it, but…oh! I could change what you get, though, or—or make you not get one at all. I'm not good with prediction, but interfering? No problemo.”

“Not predicting it, silly, I already know what it is. More like…finding out how to stop it, I guess.”

“You already know what it is? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Okay, why is everyone trying to pretend they can’t see it? I’m really fine about it, you can mention it around me. You can talk to me about anything, you know that.”

“Really? Cause, uh, head’s up, you kind of have a big ol’ pimple on your face.”

“Oh, very funny, Will. Stop playing dumb. Did everyone eat their…stupidity-inappropriate-humor-playing-dumb flakes today? The pimple is my demon part.”

“Uh…you think so? I don’t remember you mentioning that the demon had pimples. Cause that would kind of be something I’d notice right away.”

“Well, the demon didn’t have any pimples. Not that I noticed. But there could have been some somewhere, right? I mean, I didn’t exactly look it over too closely. Besides, I was thinking on the way over here, that maybe it’s one of its evil demon larvae egg things, not an actual part of the demon. Like, when it mixed blood with me, it…oh, god, it fertilized me. I’m pregnant with a bunch of hell spawn! Damn those consequences of unsafe…demon fighting...stuff.”

“Hey, calm down, okay? You’ll be fine. It’s probably just a regular non-Hellmouth-y deal. Just put some Clearasil on it when you get home, and it’ll go right away. You could probably get some concealer from Cordy for it if you asked real nice.”

“Aw, Will, you have to help me. Besides, I had this whole spat with Cordelia in the hall, so no way she's loaning me anything.”

“I really think you’re overreacting, Buffy. I mean, the rest of us deal with these kind of things all the time. Just cause you’re not used to it doesn’t mean it’s evil.”

“Why does no one around here listen to me? Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Okay, alright, I’ll help. I’ll, I’ll try a revealing spell, like you said. I just need a few strands of your hair so the magic can examine what’s goin’ on with your DNA. You don’t actually have to be present for it to work.”

“Of all the…okay, fine. Do your wacky mojo, but do it fast, okay? I don’t like walking around with this thing on my face.”

***
“Hey, Buffster. Uh, there sort of appears to be…there’s kind of something…”

“I know, Xander. Go away.”

“No, I really don’t think you’re fully aware of the…oh, God, there’s little baby demons crawling out of your face! It’s alive!”

“Really? Omigod, I knew it. I gotta go tell Giles!”

“Uh, that was sort of a joke, Buffy. Willow told me you thought you were about to hatch, so I thought I’d, you know, cheer you up with a little funning—ack! Okay, I give.”

“God. Nothing is working for me today. And now I have to go to Chem. What am I going to do?”

“Uh…put a paper bag over your head?”

“Very funny. Well, I clearly can’t go to class in this condition. I’d better go help Giles with the research.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll go back and…help Will out.”

***
“So, Willow…need any help with the spell-casting?”

“Um—yeah, you could help. What I really need is for someone to hold this for me while I cast the spell on it. Make sure your fingers aren't too much in the way, though, or it could affect the results.”

“Okay, that I can do. Uh, what exactly is this?”

“Buffy’s hair. I’m magically examining her DNA structure for any anomalies that would mean she’s been demonically possessed somehow.”

“You actually think she’s gone demontastic?”

“Well, no. Not at first, at least. But we do live in Sunnydale, and Buffy’s never had pimples before that I’ve noticed—so it’s probably best to check all possible contingencies, just to be sure.”

“Right. So what exactly will we do if she’s been all…pregnatized? Or aspectized?”

“I’m not really sure. It’ll probably depend on what we find out from the spell.”

“Okay. Oh, hey! I didn’t know it was going to be all…”

“...pretty?”

“Well, I was looking for a more masculine word, but yeah. There’s all the colors, and—ooh. Now they’re moving.”

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm, what? What’s it mean?”

“I…I don’t really know what’s going on here. I mean, these colors are moving everywhere. It should be one strong, bright color over all her DNA. But this is just…”

“Like a rainbow vomited all over Buffy’s hair?”

“I think we’d better take this to Giles in the library.”

***
“Hey, Giles, I’m back. Do you need help with the book-learning?”

“Uh—no, no, it’s going just fine, thank you—ah, don’t open the book, it’s…very rare…”

“You’re reading a 1973 Rolling Stone magazine? Giles, you're always the one who wants to check everything—and now, what, I'm not important enough? You don't believe me? You were all over Willow's mysteriously missing pencil, remember? How is this not more important? I mean, that was totally lame. She just left it in her History class, and suddenly it's like, get out the credit card, cause them demon books, we are a-buyin'!”

“Buffy, really…I…I’m sorry that I lied to you, that was not the right thing to do. But you’re clearly not yourself right now. The idea that a demon is somehow the cause of your—ah—well, it’s just preposterous. Besides, it’s not exactly something you can research.”

“God, Giles—of all the people I know, I trust you to take me seriously when I say something demonic is going on. I mean, I'm kind of an expert here!”

“Buffy—oh, dammit.”

***
“Giles, we’re here. Where was Buffy going? Xander left to go after her.”

“She just…left.”

“Listen, I did a spell—examining her DNA? And it came out all funny.”

“Willow, you really shouldn’t do spells like that without—ah, funny how?”

“Well, instead of one color, there were a bunch. And they shifted around the DNA, like…they weren’t sure where to go, or something. It was weird, so I thought I’d come ask what you thought it meant.”

“Hmmm…that’d be the modern adaptation of a spell from the Carnack Volumes?”

“Uh—yes.”

“Willow, that’s a very dangerous book! You shouldn’t have taken it from the library without asking me. It stays in my office in a locked drawer for a reason. How did you get in there?”

“Does it matter? I mean, I thought you trusted me. This was to help Buffy, okay? I wouldn’t have done anything bad with it.”

“We’ll address this another time, but know that I’m very displeased with you right now. I thought more of you than that, and I thought at the very least you would trust my judgment on these issues. Now let’s get to work.”

“Okay, Mr. Cranky Pants.”

***
“Hey, wait up, Buff!”

“Go away, Xander.”

“Ah, come on, don’t be like that. We all get things wrong sometimes, you know. It’s like the time when Will and I tried to make her house warmer by setting her mom’s old psychology textbooks on fire. Kind of stupid and a bit on the overkill side, but—well, in that example we were full of blame, but in this case it’s not your fault. But it basically still applies.”

“Xander, I kind of need to be alone right now. Could you please go away?”

“I’m just trying to help, okay?”

“And suddenly I feel a strange compulsion to go to class.”

“Aw, come on, don't leave now! I was getting to the best part.”

***
“Phew. No way he can follow me in here. And, hey, it’s a non-class-y, non-stupid-people place. Who would have thought the girl's bathroom could be so fun. Well, I might as well pee while I’m here.”

***
“Hey, guys, I think something’s seriously up with Buffy.”

“Ah, Xander—you found her?”

“Yeah, but then she got all huffy and went away. I mean, I thought my anecdote was funny and helpful. Will, remember that time when we—”

“Would you please get to the point?”

“Okay, okay—so then she ran off somewhere. I lost track of her. At first she said she was going to class, but she wasn’t there when I checked.”

“Hmmm. Well, why don’t you keep trying to find her while Willow and I do some more research on what this spell could—did you hear something?”

“No—wait a minute. Yeah, that sounds like Buffy! Giles, you go down the main hall, Xander, you go to the cafeteria, I’ll go to the nearest girl’s bathroom.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

***
“Buffy! Buffy, are you in here?”

“Willow! Oh, God, this is terrible. What am I going to do? ”

“Oh, I should have known you were right all along, about the demon pregnancy. I’m sorry we doubted you, Buffy, it just seemed—well, kind of unlikely, but kind of unlikely is practically your middle name. Buffy ‘Kind of Unlikely’ Summers. So we should have known, but we didn’t, and it’s all our fault because we didn’t try harder to help you. But—but we’ll help you now, Buffy, don’t worry! We’ll be all over this, okay?”

“No, Willow, you don’t understand—this isn’t what I thought it was. It’s something you said earlier.”

“Uh…so it’s just a pimple? Then why are you so freaked out about it?”

“No—Will, I think it was a boy demon.”

“So you are pregnant?”

“Aagh! Here, I'll come out so you can see for yourself.”

“Okay. Oh—oh, my. That—that's new. I should...go get Xander and Giles. They probably have more...experience in this department.”

“Willow, neither of them have gotten a giant new penis from an evil demon. Theirs came all...naturally, or so I assume, so I don't think they have any more experience there than you or me.”

“Exactly how many penises have you seen? 'Cause that doesn't look all that big to me. I mean, you are wearing pants and all, but from the general outline—”

“We are not having this conversation. And since when have you seen more penises than me? Just how far have you and Oz gone?”

“That's none of your business, young lady—er, young sir. Hey, maybe we have to call you a manly name now. Like Bill, or John. Maybe Michael.”

“But—but I'm not a boy.”

“In case you haven't noticed, honey, all your girl parts are gone.”

“My boobs! My hair! Where'd they go?”

“I dunno, Michael. Maybe we should go back and look for them in the bathroom stall. Or—come on. Let's get you and your new equipment out of here.”

“Equipment?”

“Wait, this is going to look weird, isn't it? Strange boy who's never been seen at school walking out of the bathroom with taken geek. Let's hope Oz isn't around. We were going to do this thing tonight—”

“Okay, now I'm very much in favor of getting out of here.”

“Hey, just addressing true topics here.”

***

“Uh—Principal Snyder! Hi!”

“Hello, Miss Rosenberg. What exactly were you and your new friend here doing in that bathroom?”

“Uh—see—I can explain, really, this is actually Buff—”

“Detention, both of you, right now.”

“Crap, now I'll never get my boobs back.”


END