TITLE: A Tale Of Two PMSers
AUTHOR: Ragna (writinggoddess@aol.com)
RATING: FRT
SPOILERS: None, unless I miraculously get hired to write for the show.
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just keep my name on it and let me know.
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or them. I'm just holding Spike, Xander and Oz hostage. You may see them by appointment only.
FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the result of a challenge Carolyn put out. She liked it... BTW, this is an awful badfic, but it made a few people feel better.

***

"Xander?"

His head popped up from the pillow. "Yeah?"

"I...I need some Midol."

He groaned, looking at Willow, who lay clutching her stomach next to him. "That bad? Why don't you see a doctor?"

"I'd rather be here with you. And...is there any chocolate left?"

He nodded, getting up long enough to put some pants on. "If there isn't, I'll go get you some."

She smiled at him, and sat up a little. "Thank you, Xander," she said, kissing him lightly before he left the room.

***

"Midol...chocolate...where the hell are you?" Xander muttered. He was unbelievably happy. Him and Willow were together, they had her house together all alone for a week...

And then PMS had to interrupt.

He went into her medicine cabinet, and found the Midol rather easily. Now, off to find chocolate.

He scoured through her cabinets in the kitchen, but there wasn't any. No chocolate ice cream in the freezer, not even chocolate cocoa mix. Nothing. Then he remembered.

Her parents were going on a diet, and all junk food had been tossed.

Reaching over for his bookbag and glancing at the unattempted math homework his college teacher had assigned, he felt around.

Nothing. Nada. No chocolate.

Looking around, he got a glass of water, grabbed his keys and headed back to Willow's room.

"Do you have the chocolate?" she asked when he walked in.

"Your parents tossed everything," he said ruefully.

"Oh," Willow replied with a small pout.

"Here's the Midol and some water. I'm going to go get you some chocolate." He turned around and felt a small hand grasp his wrist.

"Actually, I'd rather have something else instead," she said with a slightly wicked look on her face.

"You're devious."

"Don't you know it."

***

Meanwhile, across town...

"Slayer...are you PMSing?"

"Spike, now, why would you think that?"

"Because you tried to kill me, pet."

"I did not. Now, can you undo the restraints?" Buffy asked sweetly.

Spike shook his head. "No way in bloody hell, love."

Buffy got an absolutely savage look on her face. "LET ME GO NOW!!!"

Spike simply stood there and watched. She pulled against the restraints, snarling at Spike.

Finally, after about an hour of her going on like that, Spike gave up, but still didn't undo the restraints. Instead, he went to the phone.

***

"Hello?"

"Red?"

"No, this is Xander. Spike?"

"Yeah, mate. What do you do when the Slayer is PMSing?"

"Run like hell."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"I've got her in bloody restraints, and she won't shut her gob yet."

"Have you tried Midol?"

"What's that, exactly?"

"Medicine. Supposedly relieves PMS... And have chocolate around."

"How did you ever deal with her before?"

"Very, very carefully. Have fun, Spike."

***

Spike held up the bottle, having just dashed to the store to get it. Buffy had been quiet, finally, and he was thankful for that.

"If you'd told me that was what you'd wanted, love, I would have gotten it earlier."

She nodded weakly. "Well...I kinda like this."

"Being put in restraints, you mean?" She nodded again. "Never would have thought you were the type."

"Well...maybe I am. Can I have some of the Midol now?"

He nodded and gave her two pills and some water, still not undoing the restraints. "So...want me to undo those for you, love?"

"Not really...as I said, I kind of like them."

Spike grinned. "I get the feeling I'm in for an...interesting evening."

"Then I get the feeling you'd be very correct."