The F.G.U. by pattyanne


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Title: The F.G.U.
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Oh, pleeeeze!
Summary: Just a little whimsy. I
was feeling kind of silly when I wrote
it. Don't want to reveal too much.



Part one....


~~~~~
"Suddenly...suddenly it happens
And your dream comes true..."
~~~~~



"Excuse me, dear? I really must have a word with
you. Do wake up now, please. I AM on a schedule,
you know?"

Buffy's eyes flew open wide, and she sat up so abruptly
that the woman standing next to her bed was startled
into taking a step back. "Who the hell are you?" she
demanded. "And why the hell are you in my room?"

"I know," the woman replied with a shrug. "I'm terribly
late, but I've just been swamped lately. " She sighed
deeply. "I'm quite exhausted."

Buffy watched as the intruder sank back into a chair
that she'd never seen before in her life, let alone in her
room. Wondering where on earth it had come from, she
studied the woman carefully, in case she had to provide a
description for Giles.

Her "guest" was on the short and plump side. There was
a pair of half-spectacles hanging on a chain around her
neck. Her floor length dress was white, with tiny specks
of silver glitter in the weave. It had long sleeves, buttoned
at the wrists and a lacy collar.

The woman's cheeks had a rosy glow that accented her
bright blue eyes, and her white hair was pinned up into a
neat bun.

She looked like someone's grandmother, and despite the
violent awakening she'd just had, Buffy couldn't sense
any 'evil aura' permeating the room.

"Relax, dear," the woman urged, smiling slightly. "I
left my evil aura at home tonight."

Buffy's jaw sagged. "How did you...?"

"It's part of my job. Now...let's get down to business,
shall we? I don't have a great deal of time."

Buffy didn't respond to the words. Her eyes were
riveted on something in the old lady's lap.

It was a rod, about fifteen inches long. Made of
glass, she could see tiny gold and silver stars
glittering inside of it.

"Is...is that a...?" she stammered. "That's not a..."

"A magic wand? Yes. Sort of a tool of my trade,"
the woman said matter-of-factly. "Quite emblematic,
I can assure you," she added. "I don't need it, but
people seem to expect it of me and they're always so
disappointed when I don't produce one."

"Is that a fact?" Buffy asked.

"Indeed," the old lady confirmed. "I always feel so
perfectly horrible, as though I've trampled all over
their childhood fantasies, the poor dears."

With an amused shrug, she reached down and
picked up a large tapestry bag....something else
that Buffy was certain had not been there a moment
ago.

Curious, she watched in expectant silence as the
woman rummaged around in the bag, then produced
a clipboard with a piece of paper on it.

The woman squinted at the paper for a moment,
muttered, "Oh, bother" under her breath, then put on
her spectacles.

"Much better," she said briskly. "Now...you are Buffy
Summers?"

Buffy nodded. "Uh-huh."

The woman stared at her for a moment, shaking her
head. "Uh-huh?" she repeated. "Apparently, they're
no longer teaching proper grammar in school."

The comment made Buffy feel like a tenth grader
failing English. "Yes," she amended. "I'm Buffy
Summers."

"Much better," the old lady beamed. Using a pen
that was chained to the clipboard, she began writing
something down, speaking under her breath. "Yes..
yes...oh, definitely..."

It looked to Buffy as though items were being
checked off on a list.

"Yes...yes...certainly NOT...yes...well, we'll fudge
a little on this one..."

Buffy couldn't stand it. "What are you doing?"

"Hmmm?" The woman looked up. "You mean this?"
she asked, indicating the clipboard. "It's tiresome, I
know, but I'm required to fill out all the paperwork or
things will be tied up forever in bureaucratic red tape.
It's not like the old days, when all you had to do was
check in for your assignment. Now, there are forms
and everything is computerized, and I know nothing
about those wretched machines except that using
them always throws me off schedule."

"You sound like a friend of mine," Buffy said, unable
to suppress a smile. "Giles...."

"Doesn't think much of computers either, I know." Pulling
a lace handkerchief from her sleeve, the old woman
dabbed her forehead with it. "So...here I am, dashing about
the world all willy-nilly, and trying to keep up. It's
difficult for a woman my age."

Releasing a heartfelt sigh, she reached back into
her bag and brought out a plate, offering it to Buffy.

"Have a cookie, dear?" she urged. "I made them myself."

It was at that precise moment that Buffy felt the
last shred of suspicion slide away. Whoever or what-
ever she might be, this jolly looking old lady wasn't
a demon. What kind of demon bakes cookies for it's
intended victim?

Besides, they smelled fantastic.

With a huge smile, she selected a cookie, and her
eyes widened in surprise. "They're warm!" she said
delightedly. "Like they just came out of the..."

The woman's eyes twinkled in a manner that could
only be described as "merrily".

Taking a bite of the cookie, Buffy's eyes rolled in
ecstasy. "Peanut butter with chocolate chips! This
is my..."

"Favorite cookie. I know."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "How," she asked around a
mouthful of cookie, "did you know?"

"My dear, it's what I DO," the woman replied. "I know
all of your favorites. Just because it took me a while to
get here doesn't mean that I haven't been keeping my
eye on you."

Buffy swallowed and reached for another cookie.

The moment she had her hand on one, the woman
said, "All right, then...but we shall keep the rest
of them for another time. Eating this late isn't at all
good for you."

Staring at the woman in dismay, Buffy immediately
picked up three of the cookies instead of one. "Okay,"
she said, holding them as though they might be
snatched back. "Go ahead and put them away."

"Really, Buffy," the lady scolded, replacing the cookie
in her bag.

"But, I'm hungry," Buffy said in defense of her glut-
tony. "I didn't eat much dinner tonight."

There was a pause, then the woman shook her
head. "Oh, fine...go ahead. But do NOT forget to
brush your teeth again before you go back to
sleep. Cavities are quite opportunistic."



~~~~~
"Wonderfully, beautifully it happens
And your world is new..."
~~~~~



Rummaging around in her bag, she handed Buffy
a small package containing a toothbrush and a
box of dental floss.

"Oh, I already have a..."

"It's time for a new one, dear heart."

Buffy examined the package, surprised to see
that there was no indication as to which company
had produced it. It was a plain white box, with only
one line of small print at the bottom; Toothbrush/Floss
inspected by #12.

"Um...thank you," she said, still chewing. "Listen, you
never told me how it is that you know all my favorite
foods."

"Oh, I know a great deal more than that," the woman
replied. She saw a skeptical look on Buffy's face. "Do
you require proof?"

Buffy shrugged. "Well..."

There was another deeply put upon sigh. "Very well,
then...here are a few of your favorite things, and no, I
do not intend to sing them to you; The cookies you
are currently stuffing yourself with, pizza, nearly anything
made with chocolate, hamburgers, tacos, ice cream
sundaes, string cheese, sour cream and onion flavored
potato chips, some dreadful concoction known as
'Kool-Aid'..."

Buffy opened her mouth to speak.

"Cherry," the woman said, answering the question
Buffy hadn't asked. "Now, if I may continue...where
was I?"

"Kool-aid," Buffy ventured, finishing the last bit
of cookie. "Cherry."

"Oh, yes," the old lady agreed. "Well, suffice it to
say that your tastes in food are decidedly...eclectic,
to be precise."

"What's that..."

"Do look it up, dear. It's what dictionaries were in-
vented for."

Buffy was about to reply when a light switched on
in the hallway outside her room. "That's my sister."

"Yes, I do believe it is," the woman replied.

Typically, Dawn walked in without knocking. With not
so much as a raised eyebrow, she looked around
the room. "I thought I heard you talking to someone."

Buffy was surprised, and it showed on her face.

"Well, yeah," she said, gesturing at her late night
visitor, but it was quite clear that Dawn saw
nothing out of the ordinary. "I was...sleep talking?"

Dawn nodded slowly. "Uh-huh."

"There, you see," the old woman scolded. "Your
atrocious grammar is influencing your sister."

Buffy hesitated, watching Dawn's face for a reaction
to the words.

"She cannot hear or see me, dear. Unless, of course,
I wish her to."

"So, are you okay?" Dawn asked, yawning.

"Yeah...YES!" Buffy said quickly. "I'm fine. You go
back to bed."

"Mm-kay...g'night."

"Good night," Buffy pronounced clearly. When the
door closed behind Dawn, she flopped back onto the
bed. "This is the weirdest thing that's ever happened
to me."

"I highly doubt that, dear," the woman said dryly.

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


TBC.....
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