Title: Save it for Someone Who Cares

Rating: R for some naughty language and sexual innuendos. And how is that different from an episode of Buffy?

Summary: Think Buffy and the gang have been a bit out of character lately? You ain't seen nothing yet! Season seven spoofiness.

Author's Note: I have nothing against lesbians. I am not making an anti-homosexual statement. I just don't like Kennedy. Really. This fic was written as a reaction to the terrible characterization that has been wreaking havoc lately in the Buffyverse. I actually love these silly make-believe people-- I only mock because I care. All of the Buffy characters belong to Joss Whedon, respectively. Anyone who thinks I could make money off of this is seriously delusional.

*~*~*

God, Buffy was tired. More tired than she had ever been. What a day, she thought with more than a twinge of self-pity. It's hard being me. And really, it was. First there had been several boring hours spent at the high school, pretending to listen to a bunch of teenagers' angsty crap and wondering whether Principal Wood was a boxer or brief kind of man. The craptastic job paid jack, and after the first four boxes, sharpening pencils had gotten a bit lackluster. Then there was her less than stellar home life. Gee where to start there? Take one once-upon-a-time-was-a-key whiny sister, add some generally useless friends, and a house full of hormone-driven potential slayers and it all equated to some serious style cramping.

Heaving a patented 'I'm the slayer, behold the sacrifices I make' sort of sigh, Buffy unlocked her front door and mentally reviewed the afternoons schedule. Let's see, yell at friends for being useless, yell at girls for being weak, flounce about in skimpy top, give Spike blue balls with aforementioned top, and repeat steps one through four. Yup, sounds good. She immediately assumed her angry 'I'm the slayer and no one else is trying hard enough' expression and slammed the door shut.

The BAM! resounded through the house and immediately on cue, Willow appeared, looking concerned, with her butch girlfriend Kennedy on her heels. "Buffy?" The redhead seemed to radiate concern, "Are you all right? What's the matter?"

Probably post-I-almost-destroyed-the-world sucking up, Buffy mused. She scrutinized her friend for a moment, trying to figure out whether Kennedy was ogling her chest or not. "Nothing." The slayer snapped. "It's just that the First is going to show up anytime now, bitch slap everybody, and there's nothing anyone will be able to do about it because, you know, you all suck."

Willow's pasty face crinkled with hurt. "Buffy…"

"You're out of line!" the brunette potential barked, flexing her chest.

Buffy glared at her. Her shoes were ugly and far too masculine. "I'm sorry, who are you skanky ho biscuit?" She asked mockingly, blinking her blue-gray-storm-on-the-ocean eyes for a patronizing effect. "You're not a slayer yet, so therefore you don't count."

Kennedy fumed and was ready to pound Buffy's over-aerobicized arse, but Willow laid a calming hand on her shoulder. "No, don't. This is between Buffy and I. She's right, we're not trying hard enough."

"You always take her side!" Kennedy pouted and stormed off, leaving the wicca and slayer at a face off. "I'm not holding hands with you under the table tonight!" Willow frowned; that was the third time this week she had lost her handholding privileges.

Buffy stretched luxuriously, making that cute little squeaky sound one does when they get in a really good stretch. "Well, I'm hungry. Where's Spike?"

The witch did not bother to comment on the obvious Freudian slip. Buffy could be such a slut sometimes. "I made tuna. Spike's in the basement brooding over his humanity."

"Mmm, tuna." Buffy licked her lips and imagined spreading it on a Spike sandwich. But then she stopped and pretended to be appalled with her naughtiness, because, you know, she's a good girl now. She brushed past Willow and headed towards the kitchen to scarf down a sandwich.

*~*~*

Meanwhile, Spike had locked himself down in the Summer's basement for some quality brooding time. The bleached vampire had his own special brand he was working on. He would first angst over his newly restored soul and whether or not he deserved to be counted as a good guy and then fantasize about Buffy, frolicking in her skimpy tops. Mmm…frolicking.

Abruptly, Buffy threw open the basement's door and stomped down the stairs. Startled, he nearly fell off his cot. Spike managed to recompose himself and adopt the look of a kicked puppy by the time she reached him.

"Buffy," his greeting was strained, but full of emotion.

She took one look at his tight pants and gave a smirk. "I see you're at the 'imagine Buffy naked' stage of your brooding."

"Am not," he defended, the catch in his accent giving him away. "What are you doing down here?"

She gave him a look. "It's my basement. Duh."

The vampire had begun to establish his sighing technique. It complimented his brooding nicely. "You know the First may be using me as its bloody puppet. I don't fancy putting you or any of the girls in danger." He stood suddenly and struck a dramatic pose. "Maybe I shouldn't be here at all. Probably would be better for you lot if I just cleared out of town."

Buffy yawned a little. The tuna sandwich was making her sleepy. "Nah, I'm not ready for you to leave yet."

Spike turned, his dark eyes as hard as diamonds as he searched her face expectantly. "Why's that, love?"

"Because most of the people in this house suck and besides I need more human shields."

He looked to her adoringly. "Right, but I'm not human."

She let her gaze travel down his finely muscled chest. "Well, you have a nice ass."

Spike drew closer, wanting to ravish her right then and there, in a completely consensual way of course. "I suppose I do."

Buffy slunk up to him, making the most of her see-through lace shirt. "And I'm the slayer, so you have to do what I say. Even though I lead you on and treat you like crap."

He brushed a trembling hand against her cheek. "It could be worse, y'know. I could be Xander."

Buffy snorted through her laughter. "That's so true!" They laughed a good while at this before Spike decided to get all mushy again.

"Buffy," he murmured lovingly.

"Yeah?"

"You've got tuna on your chin…just there."

She was about to suggest that he lick it off for her when Dawn bounded clumsily down the stairs. "Buffy!" She called loudly, even though the two were in plain sight. Dawn was special like that. Buffy attributed it to the fact that the girl had been made by a bunch of guys who had never been laid.

"What is it Dawn?" Buffy asked gruffly in a no nonsense manner. The hyper teenager embarked on a long, rambling explanation regarding something Buffy didn't care about. She knew Dawn was just trying to fit in by pretending to have a talent that mattered.

"…and I tried to translate the Macedonian text by cross-referencing it with macaroni on the internet. Isn't it funny that they almost sound the same…macedoni macaroni?" The girl finished with that grating high-pitched laugh that made Buffy want to knock her unconscious.

Buffy pushed Spike off of her. "That's great. Good job and stuff," she replied vaguely. "Go get me a diet Coke."

Dawn hastily retreated to fetch her drink. Sometimes Buffy just didn't appreciate her. No one could understand what it was like to be a teenage key! One day she would be the best researcher in the world…then maybe, she would, like, even have her own website! It would have passwords and stuff, and certain slayers wouldn't be allowed.

Buffy watched her sister race up the stairs. She really needs to give up the internet website dream, she thought with a shake of her head. "All right, I'm done with you for now," she told Spike offhandedly and left him alone, again, with blue balls in the basement.

At the top of the stairs, she nearly ran into Xander who was busy cracking way unfunny jokes to a few unimpressed potential slayers. The girls were snickering derisively at the general lameness of him. Buffy almost felt sorry from him. Almost.

"Hey Buff," he shuffled around in that weird rambling way of his. "Just making time with the SIT's. Always looking for a few good women, you know protect and serve and all that."

Buffy didn't know. Her blank look seemed to relay that to him. "Xand, they're like seventeen. That's kind of skanky."

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "Willow's doing it."

Buffy shook her head. "Yeah, well Willow's been on the rebound since whatsherface died."

"Tara," he corrected. "You know, big-boobed, tree-hugging, pot-smoking hippie?"

"Oh yeah." She eyed his rumpled flannel shirt and wrinkled cords; they just screamed loser. He has a bad track record with women; it's not his fault he attracts demons, freaks, and Cordelia. She thought fondly. Well, maybe it is. I'd help him out with his image but…I just don't care, really. Poor Xander. Oh well.

Just then, Buffy reminded herself of her 'to do' list and realized she had forgotten one important task. As a mentor and role model she must always be thinking of others. "Xander, grab the pre-teens. I feel an inspirational speech coming on."

Xander looked almost too pleased to comply. "Okay, you got it, Buff!"

"Oh and Xander?" She called after him, "I didn't mean 'grab' in the literal sense."

He chose not to hear her.

*~*~*

Once the potentials had been assembled in the living room, Buffy launched into her rehearsed "why half of you will die during our final battle with the First" speech. It was a good long one, and she was rather proud of it. Tonight she had made six of the SIT's cry, which was three more than last time! Dawn sat obediently quiet through the entire lecture, loyally taking notes. Suck-up.

When Buffy had finished hammering home the underlying theme of the message, 'why I am so much better than all of you,' she opened the floor up for questions and comments (mostly because she and Xander had a bet going which one of the girls would crack first). Of course the first violent objection came the sluttiest of the SIT's, Kennedy herself. Buffy rolled her eyes and waited for her rabid complaints to cease.

"…And I think I could lead these girls much better than you can because everything's about you and it should be about me, I mean, us! Even though I'm not a slayer, I could still handle things better than you could! And you're just jealous that Willow and I have found happiness in our girl power lesbian ways!"

Xander whooped and applauded loudly at that.

"Again with the not counting," Buffy reminded Kennedy with annoyance. "How many times do I have to remind you?"

"Buffy…" Willow dared to speak up. "You can't speak to people like that. It's not good for our morale."

"Oh really? And what is?" Buffy scoffed back. "Going three shades of mental and flambéing someone just because they killed your girlfriend?"

Willow's ears went almost as red as her hair. "Look who's talking…with the 'Angel, Angel, everything's about Angel' crap for four years!"

"Well, that was important!"

"And Tara wasn't?"

"Wils, Buff, let's just all calm down for a moment and-" Xander interjected.

"SHUT-UP!" Both girls hissed in deadly tones.

Xander knew what he had to do. The old crayon routine; worked every time. He put a hand on Willow's shoulder and tried his best to look as soulful as possible. "Willow, I love you. Yellow crayons, you know."

His childhood friend's eyes promptly went a funky inky black color. "You can't use that line every time I get upset!" She shrieked, tossing a bolt of lightning in his direction.

Xander used a nearby potential to absorb the shock, but the heat from the electricity was making Buffy's perfectly coifed mane frizzy with static.

"Oh no you didn't," she growled and grabbed a fistful of Willow's stringy red hair.

"Girl fight, girl fight!" Andrew and Xander sang in unison.

Willow singed a hole through Buffy's barely there blouse. "I'd kill you again if I thought you'd actually stay dead this time!"

At that very moment, the front door swung open to reveal Giles and the latest (what is it like 30th now?) potential slayer. "Yes, I've returned from another trip abroad with-Good Lord!" He took one look at Buffy and Willow's vicious catfight and rushed towards them. "What's going on here?"

"Buffy was being sort of mean and Kennedy said that she would be a better leader and then Willow said-" Andrew offered helpfully.

Giles silenced with him a dirty look. "Could I please get an explanation from someone who matters?"

"Rupie?" The newest potential, a surprisingly doting and…mature brunette, questioned. She draped herself against him and peered at the two grappling girls. "What's happening?"

"Rupie?" Xander sniggered.

"Rupie?" Dawn repeated, bewildered.

"Rupie?" Willow and Buffy paused in mid-struggle.

Giles looked fittingly uncomfortable with the amused stares and giggles. "Yes, well…it's only a nickname, of course. Sarah and I got on rather well on the trip back."

"Who got on who, mate?" Spike drawled from his place in the hallway.

The Watcher had the good sense to look sheepish when his 'charge' gave them a suggestive wink. "You may keep your presumptions to yourself," he stammered curtly. Nevertheless, this is another of your colleagues, from England if you can imagine."

Buffy released Willow from her headlock and stood to brush herself off. "She looks, I dunno, kind of old to be a potential. How old is she?"

"Twenty-three," Giles replied as nonchalantly as he could manage.

"Nicely done," Xander nodded his approval, only to earn a scathing glare.

The other SIT's gaped openly at the oldest and newest addition to their ranks. "I'll admit that it is a bit out of the ordinary to come across such an…advanced potential. But there you have it."

"I guess," Buffy acknowledged suspiciously. Sometimes she wondered about Giles. To go from his sexy delinquent Ripper persona to boring book guy…he must still have some shady habits hidden from her. Making all of those trips to collect girls? Yeah, right. Had to be a pimp or something.

"Yes, well." The Englishman cleared his throat. "I'll just help Sarah find a suitable place for her luggage…" Everyone else looked on awkwardly as the older SIT practically dragged Giles upstairs.

Buffy shuddered. "I think I speak for everyone here when I say, Ew." All in attendance had to agree, except Andrew, who kept strangely quiet. She turned towards Willow, whose freaky black eyes were starting to fade. "Will," Buffy began soberly, "I'm sorry I hate your loudmouth girlfriend, and that you're weak and wussy about your magick."

Willow smiled tenderly. "Buffy you know I can never stay mad at you. Even when you're being all slutty and slave-driving and stuff."

"Friends?" Buffy smiled, secretly wondering what time Joe Millionaire was on that night. She hoped she and Willow would wrap this up soon.

The wicca hugged her tightly, pressing her friend close enough to mask her effort to cop a feel. It was an old trick of Xander's. Nice to know he was good for something.

Xander, unable to resist being part of the center of attention, pulled both girls into a hug, successfully feeling them up simultaneously. Heh, I still got it. "We're in it together for the long haul, Buffy. Whether you like it or not." The SIT's all awww'ed in stereo. It was a sickeningly sweet moment.

Buffy's looked at her two friends meaningfully. "I love you guys. Will, you'll always be my favorite lesbian. And Xand, I've never had a better doormat."

*~*~*

Will Buffy start to care about anyone but herself? Will Spike quit playing the part of the injured fawn? Will Kennedy ever shut-up? Follow the out-of-character train wreck that is season 7!

To be continued...