When Sunny Gets Blue

(A fantastic fantasy for Missy)

Right this looks like the centre of town

Now all I need to do is park up

(Shit they've got meters

I hope I've got some change)

And find out just the hell where I am

I know I'm somewhere in California

But I haven't got a clue where

Nor how I got here

OK, I drove out of Vancouver

Straight over the border

Down past Seattle

Route 101

All the way

Like to keep off the freeways.

Down past Portland

Wouldn't have minded dropping in

Nice city

But something said keep driving

Not out loud

But in my head

Right down the coast

Past the redwoods

Past Marin county

Past San Francisco

Nice city

But too busy, too happening for me right now

Still had that feeling anyway

Keep driving

Keep driving

Turn inland

Keep driving

Till I got

Here

It's almost as if something drew me here

When I woke up this morning I was restless

There comes a point in time when you have to say,

"Fuck it, let's do something different."

For starters this mystery illness has kept me sitting around the house for far too long.

All I seem to do is go to school

Come home from school

Do some work for school

It's school, school, bloody school all the time.

Once in a while I get taken out golfing

And I do get my kicks from playing around on the Internet

But the long and short of it is that I'm in a rut

I need to get out of here.

My husband's off on a three week trip somewhere

So, I'm basically left to my own devices

The nurse drops in every now and then

And once in a while a girl friend will come over

(I suppose that does break up the monotony somewhat)

But if you analyse my various activities

They amount to doodly-squat.

So, when I got up this morning

I made a decision

I'm getting out of here

Not permanently, that would be too drastic

But I do have the use of the car

And all I seem to be using it for is going to school

Or taking a trip downtown

Let's drive

So, forget the route map

That's how I got here

For about a quarter of a second

I considered driving East

Head towards Banff

Go up in the mountains

Like I said that idea lasted about a quarter of second

I just leapt in the car and drove

South

Some insistent nagging pointed me in that direction

South

Even when I stopped for a gas

Something inside my head said

"Gotta keep going, gotta keep going

South, South"

So I kept going

It felt a bit weird

But I kept going

Didn't even stop for a meal

Just kept going

South

'Til I got here

Where-ever here is!

Only one way to find out

Ask

I'm a pretty girl

People won't mind me asking strange questions

I hope

"'scuse me, can you tell me where I am?"

It's liable to produce strange looks

So don't ask

I need another plan

But first of all gotta pay that meter

Don't want the car towed first day in . . .

err . . . town

So pay the meter

Pop the coin right into the slot

And

Oh my God

I don't believe this

I just don't believe this

Well at least I don't need to ask any stupid questions

There is my answer

Right there on the meter

Quote

"Please ensure you put the correct coinage into the meter

Failure to do so will result in heavy fines

By order of . . ."

Get this

Get this

"By order of . . ."

You have to be kidding

"By order of

The Head of Traffic Regulation

Sunnydale."

You have to be fucking kidding

Don't you?

I know, I know

I've seen the TV series too

Joss Whedon territory

Buffyville

I know

It's just a TV series

But that's what it says

Sunnydale

Fucking Sunny fucking Dale

I thought the way I got here was weird

But this one takes the biscuit

I think I need to sit down

Have a meal

Have a drink

Try and figure out just what's going on

Now if I remember from the TV series . . .

Now hold on a minute

Don't get carried away

This is just a coincidence

This is just a town in the middle of California

That just happens to be called Sunnydale

But, like I said

In the TV series

There's a bar somewhere

There's a bar

Right

There!

And there it is . . .

A bar, , , .

Right

There.

So,

Maybe I really AM in Sunnydale,

TV version

Now it really IS weird

(I said that before didn't I?)

The funny thing is I don't feel too weirded out

Well, not much any way

Not enough to ignore a

. . . .

coincidental

Bar

It's getting late anyway

And some music would be nice

So bar it is

I'll deal with the strange bits later

Now play this cool

You know you look young anyhow

Don't want to get carded

I'm not even sure if I have an ID with me

Might have left it in Vancouver

I got out of there so fast

To get here

To get to Sunnydale

So let's walk up to the bar

God, the lighting's shitty here

It's getting dark

And I can hardly see where I'm going

Just like the TV Sunnydale really

Sure on TV the nice bits, the suburbs, are well lit

But downtown

(Downtown where the bad things are liable to happen

The victims creep or race or scream through ill-lit streets

Until whatever is after them gets them,

Or someone saves them,

Whichever advances the plot better)

The lighting is crap

If someone, something, was lurking in the shadows

I'd never see them

Not a smidgin' of a shadow

I wouldn't see anybody

I . . .

A voice chimes out from behind me

Where did he/she - it - come from

Who . . .

"Hello Missy, we've been expecting you."

What the fuck . . .

I turn

And suddenly it really is dark

Somebody has thrown a skein of dark cloth over my head

I can't see a fucking thing

Hands,

Soft hands

(Well that's a relief)

Grab my arms

And something tight is wrapped round my middle

(That's not quite so much a relief)

Pinning the dark cloth to my body

I scream

Hoping to attract attention

But the cloth muffles most of the screams

And the prick in my arm that I feel next

Does the rest

I feel a needle sink into the soft flesh of my forearm

I feel liquid spurting into my veins

I feel the drugs, it has to be drugs, racing towards my heart

My head

And I feel everything

Switch

OFF

And as I sink into oblivion

One stupid thought comes into my head

"Well, Missy, if this really is Sunnydale,

If this really is Sunnydale

Then you're in deep trouble

I hope there's someone around to save you.

And just who might that someone be

who rides in on a white stallion to save your ass?"

OK, OK, I know it's dumb

"I hope . . .

I hope . . .

Buffy's

Around to save me."

Guess it must be the knockout drops talking

Guess it must be . . .

Gone

Right out

Oblivion

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

OK

I know this is a cliche

But when cliches happen

There's nothing you can do about it

It stops being a cliche

And becomes reality

And this cliche/reality is

That I have absolutely no idea where I am

No doubt somewhere in Sunnydale

(Still can't get my head around that yet)

But I'm still groggy

And the lighting in this room

Prison, dungeon, what have you

Is so subdued

I've no idea of what it looks like

Let alone any thoughts of where or what it actually is

At least the dark cloth "they" put over my head is gone

So that when I do eventually begin to focus

(God, my head is still swimming)

I'll be able to see where I am

And, more to the point, hopefully,

Who brought me here

Whoever "they" are

And, IF "they" show up

The weird bit is

(And this experience seems to be full of weird bits)

That despite the fact that I seem to have been abducted

Abducted in a strange town

(And if it IS Sunnydale, this is a real strange town)

By strange people

I feel perfectly calm

Now, I'm not particularly subject to paranoia

(Only when I have to be)

And I do have a strong sense of self-preservation

(Street smarts I suppose you could call it)

But past experiences have led me to be cautious

To be careful

To be wary of weird situations

But right now I have no sense of wariness whatsoever

Could be a side-effect of the drugs "they" gave me, of course,

But I don't think so

Some second sense is telling me that everything is hunky dory

I won't deny that second sense has let me down a couple of times

But this feels right

It still feels weird,

But

It feels

Right

So might just as well lie here

Let the debilitating effects pass

Let my brain focus

And see what happens

Next

What happens next is

This

I here someone (something?) stir behind me

And a voice says

(I know that voice,

Where do I know that voice from?)

"OK, gang, she's coming too

Bring the lights up a bit.

Let's get this show on the road."

And the lights do come up - a bit.

Well,

If I thought things had been weird up to now

Things just got weirder

The voice says

"Here drink this

It will help you focus"

And from the now not so gloomy gloom

A hand, a soft feminine hand,

But strong and confident

Passes me a glass

And I pour the pink viscous liquid down my throat

And my eyes do focus

And my brain sharpens

And I start to concentrate

And what I see nearly does my head in

What I see is a girl's face

What I see is someone I know

(Not personally, mind you)

What I see is the face of . . .

And I blurt it out

I'm too surprised to stop myself

"Sarah Michelle . . ."

She interrupts

"Close, but so far off you won't believe it"

"But you look like her

You look exactly like her."

"Wrong. I don't look like Sarah Michelle Geller

She's on her way here

She's been doing a personal appearance somewhere or other.

I don't look like Sarah Michelle Geller

because

Sarah Michelle Geller looks exactly like ME.

Hi Missy

My apologies for your strange introduction to Sunnydale

I'm Buffy

Buffy Summers."

I guffaw

"Oh, yeah, sure

And next thing you'll be telling me that I'm in the real Sunnydale

as shown on TV

with Demons and Vampires and Hell holes and all."

She smiles at me

It is a winning smile

A smile that inspires confidence

A smile that Sarah Michelle would do well to emulate more often on TV

It's a sexy smile

My God it's a sexy smile.

"That is exactly what I'm telling you. Its like this . . ."

"But . . . "

"Forget the buts Missy, even though you do have a cute one."

I blush from head to toe

"This is the real Sunnydale

And, of course, the one you see on TV is fake

It's on TV.

It has to be fake."

"But . . ."

She ignores my but.

I hope she isn't ignoring my butt

(Where did that come from?)

"This is going to sound off the wall

But this is the way it is.

Some time ago, Joss was driving around California

Trying to get round writer's block or something

And he stumbled on Sunnydale

Totally accidentally

And

He also stumbled on us scoobies the minute he came in to town

Just as well really or a demon would have gobbled him up before he could do his job.

Well, of course, hanging around us,

Hanging around me,

He soon discovered about things that he couldn't have made up in a million years

Spooky things,

Things that were completely over the top.

His immediate reaction was to talk to the press.

But he realised that nobody was going to believe him

I mean what would you say if somebody told there was this cozy little town

In the centre of California

Which was also the centre of all the evil in the Universe

You'd have laughed him out of town

Unless you had him locked up for his own safety instead.

So, instead of talking to the press

He unblocked his writer's block

Turned it all into a series of TV scripts

Found a few look-alikes, and some not so look-alikes to go with them

Filmed a pilot

And the rest is history

Sunnydale is on the map

And we get to fight on without nosy Feds sticking their nose in

They just get confused.

Sunnydale Josh style is on TV

So anything that happens in Sunnydale real can't possibly be real

The demons and the Vampires and the Hellmouth

(Mustn't forget the bloody Hellmouth)

Are all the by-products of some TV producer's fevered imagination.

We like it 'cos we get left alone

Sunnydale likes it because what town wants a reputation like that

And even the vamps like it because it appeals to their egos

And believe you me vampires have got great big egos

In fact, to be honest with you, that's all vamps are

One big ego with a tendency to bite you on the neck

Every now and again.

So, as I said, Sarah Michelle Geller looks exactly like me

Because she's playing ME

She's acting out Buffy

She's acting out the Vampire Slayer

She's being ME.

That's where the TV shtick comes from."

And you know what

As crazy as it sounds

As contrived as it sounds

I believe her

How could you not

It sort of explains

How I magically got here

Nothing else accounts for the need

The desire

To drive and drive and drive

And then end up here

In Sunnydale.

There has to be something supernatural going on.

So, I tell her that.

And she smiles again

"Pretty close Missy

You're one smart cookie

It wasn't supernatural actually

It was psychic

We used Dawn

You know

My supposed sister.

She is the Key after-all

And being the Key gives you a lot of extra talents no one tells you about

So we got her to reach out to you

Add a bit of undue influence

I'm still not quite sure how she does it

But when you do meet her

You can ask her yourself.

(Incidentally, you won't be meeting her right away.

She's a bit too young, a bit too naive

To participate in what we have planned.)"

Now, what did she mean by that.

I have to admit I'm curious.

I'm always curious

Andy, the English guy I write to on-line

Reckons I'm a modern-day Alice

Forever chasing sexual-rabbits down the sexual-rabbit-holes.

But for now I'll let my curiosity stand

Let the rabbit go for a run on its own for a change.

So, instead, I ask the other question that's been bugging me.

"OK, so that's how you got me here

But, how did you know about me

How did you find out about me?"

"Blame that one on Cordelia

She had one of her visions.

She'll be here soon as well,

So she can tell you all about it.

Really that girl will be the death of me.

She's always fucking late.

It's not as if she has far to come.

And no, she's not in LA working for Angel.

Angel was someone Josh made up

Someone to provide a bit of love interest for the poor deluded TV audiences.

Angel, if he existed, is so not my type.

Too moody by half

But if Josh wrote the real truth the sponsors would have a major fit.

My type is softer, prettier

Someone like you."

My God, she's coming on to me

Who'd have believed it.

Buffy is into girls!

Well, don't let me stop her

I'm partial to a bit of cunt-lapping myself

Now if I can just get her alone.

I can't help but preen

Just a little bit

After all I've been through

After all I've heard

I deserve a preen or two.

Buffy ignores my posturing

"Once Cordy had had a flash about you

Willow did the rest

Did a bit of hacking

Checked you out

Peeked into your files, your e-mails

Nice pictures by the way."

I blush. Again.

"Willow, tell Missy about your discoveries."

A slim, young ,

Very full-breasted

Woman walks from the darkness.

And I go

"But, but, but . . ."

She sports a very chic spiky hair-cut

She's wearing tight, tight latex

Her lips are painted bright, bright red

And she really knows how to strut her stuff

If Buffy wasn't here I'd be coming on to her instead

"But . . . "

"I know, I look like Willow, but I don't look like Willow

I get it all the time

I hate what Josh did to me

I mean, just because I've got a brain

And I can hack into computers

(And I might add cast a mean spell or two)

I have to be displayed as nerdy, dithery ditz.

And as for that mate they've saddled me with

Give me a break

I like girls

I really like girls

But for Christ sake make my love-interest have more spirit.

Someone I can boss around and come on all heavy to

And who doesn't burst into tears at the first opportunity.

Someone who likes a bit of . . . err . . . discomfort

Someone who doesn't think that having a fuck

Necessarily means being romantically tied

Someone . . ."

She grasps my chin in her latex-covered hand

Firmly but tenderly

A presses her lips, her red, red lips against my exposed throat

"Someone

Like

You"

"See, Missy

I know about you.

I hacked into your computer remember.

That husband of yours thinks you're a compliant little thing

Doesn't he?

Well, I know better

I've read your e-mails

Remember

You and the big O

That's what you're all about."

You know, she could be right.

"Oh, and I love that stuff that guy from England is sending you

If I had someone over there writing stuff like that for me

I'd be over there fucking his brains out.

But you don't have to do that do you

'Cos you're fucking his mind already

And he loves an intellectual fuck

And, believe me, you, sweet cheeks, are the original intellectual fuck

You put it down on paper

And they're cumming like crazy

You plot a bunch of pictures for the web

And they're engulfed by desire

(Not without cause, I might add)

They want you

I want you."

Her licentious monologue is interrupted.

There is a hammering on a distant door.

Buffy cuts in

"Patience, Willow, patience

That will be Cordy and Sarah,

At long fucking last.

Go and let them in."

She turns to me

"Sorry, about Willow

She doesn't know the meaning of patience.

But she's honest

She wants you

We all want you."

She leans in and kisses me

Fully

On the lips

Wet and warm

Desiring.

I return the kiss

I can't help myself

I'm kissing a fantasy

She pulls me to her

Swirls her tongue around my lips

And I stiffen at the pure eroticism of it all

My tongue entwines with hers

My lips crush against hers

My mouth melts into hers

I am hers

And Buffy knows it

She breaks our lip-lock

"OK gang she's ready

Strip her, kit her and strap her

And for God's sake let's have a bit more light in here

Let's see exactly what we're having here."

A shiver goes up my spine

I don't know whether it's fear or anticipation.

And the lights go up

(They're so bright that they temporarily blind me)

And suddenly a myriad pairs of hands are on my body.

This bunch work as a team with Buffy

They work as a team on me.

Before I can catch my breath

They've done just what she demanded.

"Strip her"

Off come my street clothes

Suddenly I'm naked

In front off all these people

If I wasn't so confident in my body

I'd be embarrassed.

"Kit Her"

On go black nylon stockings, a rich thick seam running up the rear of my thighs

On go cuffs

Cuffs at ankles

Cuffs at wrists

Cuff at neck

On go panties

Rich black silk

Widely slashed at the crotch

On goes a wide black satin suspender belt

On goes madly high, obscenely high, high-heeled pumps

Spaghetti straps fastened just below the cuffs at my ankles

The only thing missing is a tight undercut bra

But I don't need a bra

I'm compact

Small, but firm breasts that are forever pointing forwards

Who needs a bra?

"Strap her"

Here it gets complicated

Here it gets sexy as hell

You know those sacrifices they're always having in Buffy

Well it looks as though they've found a new sacrificee

If it wasn't the good guys I'd be really worried

Quickly

They lift me

They lower me

They lift and lower me on to a pair of rubber slings suspended from the ceiling

One sling for my back

One for my ass

Quickly

They fasten chains to the cuffs at my wrists

Pull them tight and draw them out to hooks in the wall

My arms are spread wide, taut and horizontal

Now chains to the cuffs at my ankles

My legs mirror my arms

My legs are spread wide, horizontal

My crotch, framed by the silk of the open-crotch panties is totally exposed

My unsupported head flops backwards

My long blonde hair tumbling towards the floor

Upside down

I see Buffy move into my line of vision

Wow

Even upside down she looks fantastic

Not a stitch of clothing

Not one

Her cleft is surmounted by a narrow tuft of blonde hair

(So, it's not out of the bottle)

Her waist is narrow

Her tits heavy and full

Hanging slightly with their weight

Her large nipples sporting large golden hoops.

She advances

Her crotch at mouth level