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Title: Coffee Moods
Author: watson (hiddenwatson@yahoo.com)
Distribution: please email me first
Rating: PG to NC-17, see individual entries for rating
Disclaimer: BtVS characters, concepts and dialog belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, The WB, UPN and others. The stories contained here are of a personal nature, non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.
Summary: Thoughts and frivolities in a coffee sort of way.
*****
Coffee Moods #5: Juste Milieu
Summary: Much needed good news for the Scoobies. Anya in excessively good form. Willow honey please don't freak.
Rating: R
Part 1/3
I rolled over, half asleep, looking for the other occupant of the bed, but came up empty. With a moan and a frown I woke myself up and glanced at the clock. It was still dark outside.
I thought she might be in the bathroom so I waited for a couple minutes, but I couldn't hear any noise from that direction.
I did hear, faintly, a disturbance coming from outside the bedroom. May be the living room, may be the kitchen.
They taught you to never confront burglars. If you heard a noise in the middle of the night and suspected there was an intruder, call the police if you had a phone in your room. Lock your door and try not to alert the intruder of your presence. Never try to investigate on your own.
Then again, 'they' never lived on the hellmouth, were not a fairly proficient witch, nor did they wake up to find the love of their life missing from their bed.
Besides, it was our home.
I padded outside cautiously, then realized it couldn't be an intruder. Intruders didn't switch the lights on, nor did they make so much noise while rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, making their best effort to hum in tune.
And they certainly didn't wear tank tops that rode all the way up their torso when they stretched up, barely covering pale freckled skin that was showing above the waistband of equally skimpy boxer shorts.
"This isn't some midnight treasure hunt, is it?" I asked.
She jumped two feet in the air and almost dropped the box in her hand. "Ooof, you scared me," she said.
"Sorry, sweetie. I woke up and you weren't there in the bed. What are you doing?" I asked.
"Looking for something."
"Now?"
"I know, I know, but I had a dream where we were running for our lives, not from vamps but a clock with 6 legs was chasing us, I woke up and it occurred to me that we have to so much to do, stuff to buy and get ready. I haven't even started looking at the more detailed websites and charting a timetable. I laid there, kinda panicking," she fretted, smiling thinly. "And we haven't even talked about how we're gonna handle the finances."
She was so cute. It was her first time, so I expected the anxiety attack. Well, it was my first time too, and under the circumstances, I should be the one freaking out, but my redhead was so prone to worrying over the smallest thing.
"What are you looking for?" I asked. At this point, a straightforward question was the best course of action.
"The yogurt maker."
My eyebrows shot up toward the ceiling on their own accord. "The yogurt maker," I tried to keep a straight face.
"Yeah, cos the little research I managed to do tonight, before someone, um, insisted I did something else," we both smiled and blushed, "sour food seems to feature heavily, and of course there's the calcium factor," she trailed off, cute grin firmly in place.
"Sour food and calcium," I echoed. "Sweetie, we won't need those for a while yet, I can safely say we're okay for tonight, come back to bed so we can do that thing again."
"I need to put away some stuff, like knives and matches, not to mention some of the bad food," she was starting to fret again, a frown was firmly making its mark on her forehead, and she was getting fidgety.
"In the morning, honey. It can wait till the morning. Please come to bed," I reassured, holding my hand out toward her.
Her eyes darted between me, my hand and the open cabinet. I could almost see the wheels turning in that busy head, but I patiently waited till the processing was complete.
She scowled but still reached out and closed the cabinet door before slipping her hand firmly in mine. On the way out of the kitchen she did try to turn back, but I ran my other hand up her arm and she soon gave up whatever task she had planned on doing.
*****
I was running late all day, and feeling tired because of our midnight diversion. And on a day such as today. By the time classes ended for the day and I made sure all my assignments were in, I had left myself very little time for the grocery store. Luckily enough Willow's obsessive organization skills had rubbed off and I had made myself an efficient shopping list, one that followed the orientation of the aisles and shelves at our local store, which made filling up the cart so much easier.
I was still pushed for time when I parked the car in our garage and quickly unloaded. A sigh of relief to find I was the first one home and the others hadn't arrived yet. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that Willow was still at computer lab but I had to be quick.
I wanted a nice relaxing bath but in the interest of time I settled for a hot shower. It still helped with the aches and pains, thankfully. I was more comfortable when I started the cooking for the Scooby dinner.
Things had been going fine, until a few months ago. Then one incident, just one, nearly wiped us out. A platoon, no a battalion, of Mafia vampires suddenly descended upon Sunnydale. It took all our experience and reserve to get rid of the menace, but we paid a price.
Buffy, in addition to countless cuts and broken bones, sustained an almost fatal stab wound to her femoral artery. Even with slayer strength she was in hospital for weeks, and was still undergoing physiotherapy for her leg injuries.
Giles took this hard, it was heartbreaking to see him so haggard, so devoid of hope, burnt out after so many years guarding the hellmouth and watching his slayer almost die again. Anya and I tried to convince him to take a break, even going back to Bath for a while to clear his mind, but he refused.
Anya and Xander's relationship seemed to have hit the rocks. The marriage that was aborted too many times to count was about to be resuscitated again, but then the attack happened, and they didn't talk about it anymore. Xander spent all his time at the construction site, Anya hardly left the Magic Shop premises.
Spike, bless the poor sod, had his face totally messed up, lost a finger and he didn't come out of his crypt much anymore.
Willow thought they might all be drinking.
The only bright spot was Dawn, my courageous Dawnie, who grew up overnight, taking care of Buffy, bringing books to Giles, blood to Spike, and trying to bring Xander and Anya back together. I was so proud of her.
And of course Willow, my Willow, who was the one to reach Buffy first, and who tried to stop the bleeding. This was how we found her, shivering uncontrollably, covered in Buffy's blood and her own through overtapping of her magical reserve.
But we had each other, and those first few nights afterwards when she clung onto me, or I to her, when our lovemaking would be so urgent, so needy that our tongues, fingers and hands seemed to be buried deep inside each other permanently. We could not have enough of the other and when we came together our screams were silent and hoarse.
It was time for some good news.
Nothing short of a miracle would do.
*****
TBC
Go Me! Go Me! (Yup...still need to find a life.)
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seem to be giving up. I've guess they've just been broken down by all those times they've almost died.
Make a deal with ya....help me find a life, and I'll leave all "first replies" alone. 
Seriously, I just happened to be on the board when watson posted these...and I was being silly with the "Dibs"...cuz, well, I'm silly. 
Personally, I consider many many people who write on this board more "real" than the writers who were paid to put together scripts for the TV show. You and other authors on this board have a better understanding of who these characters really are and who they COULD be than even Joss sometimes. So, perhaps we could change "the real ones" to "the paid ones"....does that work for you? 
I so can't help the visual I got when I read that.
will give them something to rally round and will give them new hope. The other alternative is that the hardship of raising a child will make things worse, but that's probably being too cynical and pessimistic.
utterly speechless!!! i just found out about this thread tonight... i was supposed to do something else but once i started reading CM nobody could yank me away from the computer... you are such an amazing writer! i loved how you portrayed everybody... and yes even anya...
