Fool of the Devil II-10A (Patreon)

Episode 10A: Snake Boys

How… Lisette was gonna show up at school. …how am I gonna pull this off?

Any day now.

A vampire. 

His vampire, and wasn’t that a joke and a half? I’m pulling a Buffy. 

The thought barely had a second to sit before Xander immediately felt his face shift.

No, no, nooooo, he couldn’t even imagine something that gross. Even the idea of kissing trash like that just made him want to gag, if not straight-up barf. No offense to Lisette, because she seemed like a nice girl… for a vampire…

But he had standards.

Still, though…

Draculina, Sam had called her. One of the names he had called her, right next to assistant and minion. The thought kept circling back like a vulture over roadkill. Even with everyone around him in the lounge during lunch period, he couldn’t get it out of his head no matter how hard he tried. He was trying, honest to Satan, he was trying.

But he was pretty sure this was some sort of punishment from the guy in white upstairs. 

Xander leaned back against the window, fingers drumming slowly against the dusty sill as he did his best to look casual. He doubted he was doing all that good of a job, though, the whole brooding-guy-in-the-corner thing just not in his wheelhouse. Why does Angel make this look so easy?

Cordelia's voice cut through the noise in his head, unsurprising as she made talking over everyone else part of her daily duties. "It's simple."

He blinked, attention dragged sideways.

She was holding court, the queen of Sunnydale High’s social food chain, because of course she was. Perched on one of the tables with her legs crossed, and surrounded by Cordettes; he could see several volumized and styled heads of hair bouncing along with every word that left her mouth.

"Laugh at everything they say." She flipped her hair back, the move so rehearsed Cordy probably had it choreographed. "Doesn't matter if it's funny. Trust me, it definitely won’t be, but you have to laugh like you think they’re the next Eddie Murphy, and always, always, make eye contact. Works every time."

Secrets of the universe right there. Xander tilted his head to the side, eyes rolling the other way as Queen C continued her lecture on attracting choice members of the male species. And here I thought it was just about having a pulse and not smelling like old cheese.

At the end of the arc of his eye-roll, his peepers plopped on where his two friends were huddled up on one of the ugly old mustard-yellow couches that looked like they gave up the ghost back when Reagan was still running.

A little island in the sea of hormones and hair gel, Buffy's face was all scrunched up as she dumped all her feelings on Willow’s poor little head, visions of vampires dancing through her skull. "It's just… like every time I close my eyes, there he is." As much as Xander wanted to joke, he couldn’t deny that Buffy sounded a bit more tired than he remembered, the valley-girl shine sanded off compared to what the LA girl used to sound like. "Brooding, frowning, all quiet, and looking so... Angel-y."

When is she not talking about Senor Broody? 

Willow leaned in closer to Buffy, her small hand resting on the other girl’s shoulder in the way she always did when she didn’t think words were enough. "Well, you guys are kinda perfect for each other? You know, other than the whole vampire thing."

"Oh, just that tiny little thing." Buffy's snort was loud enough to wake the dead.

…Man, I’m a hoot and a half.

Xander bit back another groan as he let his head tap against the wall. What if she walks in during second period? What if Buffy stakes her before I can explain? Explaining that would just be… impossible, honestly. Hey Buff, remember that prophecy about the devil? Yeah, funny story, I work for him. Kinda his gofer. And this is my vampire gofer. No big.

He sighed low and loud. This is gonna be a disaster.

Angel probably never had to deal with anything like this. The guy had like a couple hundred years of murdering behind him and at least a few decades to get good at just standing in corners looking mysterious and tragic and somehow that worked.

Of course he’s so good at this.

 Xander sniffed, something expensive and fragrant trying way too hard as it stabbed itself up his nostrils. Whatever it was, it was definitely the kind that probably came in a bottle shaped like something from a porn set. Of course, his eyes stayed where they were, firmly on the windowsill as he did his best to ignore the figure standing right in front of him. 

Then they had to go and clear their throat.

Xander turned his head.

Boobs. Right in his eyeline.

Unlike the rest of the package, they definitely weren’t designer, but he didn’t doubt the possibility of that in the near future.

Xander raised his head and there she was, smirk already in place, practiced and perfect; lips a slash of red and hair so immaculate you’d almost believe someone could just get out of bed like that. 

"In case you haven't noticed," her voice claimed the whole lounge, just loud enough to make it clear it was on puprose, "I've leveled up. I'm dating a college guy now." She physically couldn't resist, like breathing, like talking, the brag just had to come out.

His eyes rolled slow enough to let her see it. "Woooow, Cordy, a college guy.” He flashed her a grin he knew damn well was devilish. A twofer, heh. "Don’t you have to get tired of pretending you know who Kafka is?"

"I know who Kafka is."

His grin widened, the heat in her tone shifting as pride slid right out of it. "Yeah, I bet you picked it up from all the riveting conversation from Larry. I hear he thought Wolfgang was the name of the Rams' starting quarterback."

"Hey, shut up, Harris!"

A jock, somewhere behind him, across the lounge yelled loud enough to turn heads.

Xander didn’t even bother looking his way. “Go, Razorbacks!”

Cordelia just raised her chin higher, as if she could actually stare down at him when he wasn’t slouching this deep. "He's in Delta Zeta Kappa. Very exclusive, very wealthy. Wealth is when you have money, just so you know."

A laugh burped out of him, Xander not even trying for sarcasm this time as he tried to catch a breath. "Oh, y-yeah, d-definitely. Exclusivity screams 'dating Cordelia Chase.'"

Her eyes went narrow and if he didn’t know any better, Xander would have guessed she was giving off her own evil aura. "And what in the hell do you mean by that?"

Interesting choice of words. "Relax, Cor, I’m not calling you a skank. You’re too uptight for that, anyway,” he scoffed back, waving a hand in front of his face. “You and I both know your club has a membership of one, queenie." The words kept coming, his brain barely involved, just running the script. "And you're the bouncer."

"You calling me a bitch?"

"I'm not not calling you a bitch."

She glared for a second. A second more, then she flipped her hair, and stomped away. 

Xander watched her go, the smirk on his own face fading. Yeah, that was probably a bad idea.

"You know, for someone who claims not to care," Buffy's voice from the couch, the tiredness in it barely hidden under the amusement, "you sure do spend a lot of time poking the bear."

His hands shoved into his pockets as he turned. "Hey. It's a public service. Someone needs to keep that ego from gaining consciousness and causing Cordeliapocalypse."

Willow giggled, the sound almost swallowed by the noise in the lounge. "You're gonna get yourself killed one of these days."

"Nah." The grin slid back on. "I'm too pretty to die."

"Right," Buffy's voice went dry, "You."

Yeah. The corner of his mouth twitched. Me.