by Rob Sorenson

Buffy simply stared at Xander with no expression on her face for a long moment before speaking.

"Say again?"

Xander moved from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"It's a Twinkie."

"We're being chased by a Twinkie?!

"Well, it's a really BIG Twinkie."

Buffy turned to face the enormous treat bearing down on them, assuming a fighting stance.

"Ummm, Buff, what do you plan to do?"

She turned back to him, hands on hips.

"Well, I'm not just going to let it kill us!"

"I don't know if it can do that, exactly. Well, eventually I suppose. Wills told me something once about excessive sugar intake, but I think that's only if I eat them over an extended period of time, so I don't worry too much about it. Plus if you eat the whole thing in one bite you get wicked head rush and OW!"

Buffy had smacked him hard on the arm.

"Quit babbling! I swear, Xander, the stuff you get me into. Only you could have me wondering how to slay a friggin snack cake. This is...."

She gestured emphatically with her hands, looking for a proper phrase.

"This is beneath me. I'm a Slayer, dammit!"

"Look on the bright side. It may be beneath you, but you can devour it."

Buffy was strongly considering hitting him harder in a more vital area when they were on the verge of being overcome.

Xander closed his eyes tightly.

"Hold your breath, Buffy!!"

Immediately she clamped her eyes closed and inhaled deeply. Moments later she was blown off her feet and pressed against the floor of the tunnel.

Moments later the attack was over; Buffy had experienced the sensation of being slammed to the ground by a sponge. It hadn't hurt, but it felt....icky. She looked around for Xander, only to discover that her vision was obscured by a sticky substance that she wasn't able to identify.

"Xand? You ok?"

"Yeah. Just...kinda messy."

Buffy found herself tasting something sweet as she cleared her eyes with her fingers.

"Ugh. I'm covered with cream filling. Your brain better have dry cleaning and a shower, because this is majorly bad for my hair."

Buffy looked up to see Xander staring at her, a curious _expression on his face. She couldn't help but smile at his appearance.

"So...do I look as silly as you do?"

Xander nodded, eyes slightly unfocused. Buffy leaned toward him slightly, still smiling but with a quizzical _expression on her face.

"And this isn't funny to you because?"

"Buff, you're covered in sweet creamy goodness."

She looked herself over.

"Yeah, I guess I am but I still don't-"

Her smile slowly faded as she realized where Xander's mind was going. She pointed at him, cream flying off her forefinger.

"Xander Harris, don't you dare."

He gave no response, eyes glazed over.

"Xander, I swear if you don't start thinking about something else I will kick your a--"

Suddenly they were seated on top of the table in the old high school library. Buffy blinked a few times in surprise, realizing that she was now completely cream free.

"Ok, giving a shout out to your brain for responding so quickly to my hygiene issues, but why are we--"

She stopped herself as she noticed TWO Xanders in the room, one with her on the table and one standing in the middle of the room. <Ok, we're reliving a memory here,> she thought, noting with puzzlement that the card catalog was blocking the swinging doors; this oddity sent a tingle to her subconscious. Something in junior year....

The double doors opened outward, and Buffy looked upon her 17 year old self, clad only in a raincoat. Her jaw dropped and she turned to Xander, a murderous look in her eye.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Xander shrank back on the tabletop, his _expression eerily similar to his own alter ego before them.

"I'm not in control here, Buff. Really. You came in to my head, ok?"

She shook her head as they watched the flashback unfold before them.

<Buff, for the love of God, don't open that raincoat.>

<It's a party. Aren't you gonna open your present?>

<It's not that I don't want to. Sometimes the remote impossible possibility that you might like me was all that sustained me. But not now. Not like this. This isn't real to you. You're only here because of a spell. I mean, if I thought you had one clue what it would mean to me....but you don't. So I can't.>

Buffy found herself smiling a little at that. There indeed had been hope for him back then.

<Xand, why do you fight it? You know how irresistible you are. I've had enough of vampires. I want a real man.>

Buffy frowned. "When did I say that?"

<Because this isn't real, Buff. If we ever do this, I want it to be real.>

<C'mon Xand. You know you want me. I can tell just by looking at your pants that you're so much bigger than Angel.>

Buffy turned to Xander with yet another look of death.

"I KNOW I never said that!!"

He shrugged, unable to keep a slight grin off his face. Buffy's voice became deathly quiet.

"Xander, when we get out of your head something very bad is going to happen to you if you don't change this little scene very soon."

"Buffy, I seriously can't stop this. I'm sorry. Just don't look."

The slightly altered scene continued.

<Aw, what the Hell, Buff. Let's barricade the door and get busy.>

<Now you're talking my language, stud.>

"Stud? Oh, please. Who writes your inner dialogue, Aaron Spelling? I've never called anyone a stud in my life."

"You should. Guys kinda get a rush out of it."

17 year old Xander and Buffy were moving furniture in front of the door, effectively locking themselves in. Once they were satisfied, Xander slowly backed into the steps and laid himself down as Buffy slinked after him, swinging the strap of the raincoat in a seductive circle.

22 year old Buffy covered her eyes as the raincoat slid off her teenage image's body.

<Hey, X-man. Want some dessert?>

Buffy knew that voice. She looked between her fingers and was simultaneously immensely relieved and slightly uncomfortable at the sight of Faith, covered in nothing but cream filling.

It was Xander's turn to be horrified now, as Faith jumped his teenage version like a jungle cat. Buffy glanced at him, amused at his embarrassment.

"Look on the bright side, Xand. Now I don't have to kill you."

"You don't have to. Watching this with you will be enough to end me."

"Hey. It's ok. I knew coming in here that I might see some strange things. This is a part of you. Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"You've seen Faith and me..."

"I think you know what I meant."

Buffy tilted her head slightly as she watched the action.

"Ok, correction. That's something I've never seen."

Xander was now wincing with dismay.

Buffy was now watching intently, eyes widening.

"Whoa! Wow! You go on with your bad Xander self. Where did you learn that move?"

"Thousand year old demons. They know stuff."

Buffy looked around. "Is there a pencil and paper in here somewhere? I gotta write this down, or sketch it or something."

"Cut it out, Buff."

"No, I'm serious. This is some of the most important stuff I've ever learned in this library."

She was now watching with breathless intensity, to Xander's increasing horror.

"Buffy, honestly, I'd rather you not watch this."

"Aw, yeah. Check that out, Xand. Score one for Slayer flexibility."

"I don't have to check it out. I was there the first time."

"Yes, but that had to completely turn you out. There are only two humans in the world who can do that."

"Believe me, I'm aware of that when I can't walk normally for a couple of days afterwards."

She patted his head.

"Poor baby."

He shrugged, trademark lopsided grin on his face.

"There are worse things that can happen than that."

His grin faded slowly as his eyes again clouded over.

Buffy simply nodded, giving him a meaningful look.

"Yes. There are."

The scene changed to Faith's old motel room, leather clad Dark Slayer grinding shamelessly on top of Xander. Buffy grimaced as Faith closed her thumbs over his throat, a maniacal look on the brunette's face as she revisited that intoxicating feeling of control, holding Xander's life in her hands.

At that moment Willow, Buffy and Xander's heads snapped back with widened eyes, panting heavily.

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*****One Day Earlier*****

Across from the hospital, a cell phone was dialed, calling long distance to Florida In less than one ring an authoritative voice came on the line.

"Martineau."

"Sir, we've arrived at Bellevue Hospital. We're in luck; Harris has a room with a window facing the street."

"Good. Any sighting of our primary target?"

"Negative, sir. We're still setting up here."

"Understood. No action is to be taken until the primary target is in sight. I don't expect us to get more than one chance. Let's not have any slipups, shall we?"

"Yes sir. We hold our fire until the target is in sight."

"Keep me posted."

Martineau hung up the phone, smiling to himself. Things were turning out quite well. Soon he would wrest full control of the Council. Katzenbach was desperately attempting to filibuster; this was the lone thing that disturbed him.

For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what the old Kraut was trying to prove. It was simply a matter of time before he was ousted. Still, he comforted himself with the knowledge that he had a few more tricks up his sleeve, the biggest of which had been provided by old man Travers himself. Thankfully he'd allied himself with the Travers boys. This would be the difference maker if things grew difficult.

***********************************************************************

Katzenbach was exhausted, prematurely aged body wracked with pain. He wasn't certain how much longer he could hold out. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure why he was trying to hold out at all. After he'd finally discovered the nature of the secondary California mission, he'd taken steps to help the Slayers as best he could.

It had been a stroke of luck-at this point his only one-that the targets of the California operation were already tracking the Council Security team. Unfortunately they weren't able to travel at the same speed as their attackers; they were about a day behind. All Katzenbach could do now was pray that they could reach the hospital in time.

- End Chapter Six-