tagCelebrities & Fan FictionWhen Sunny Gets Blue

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

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
Some insistent nagging pointed me in that direction
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
'Til I got here
Where-ever here is!

Only one way to find out
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
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
"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
You have to be fucking kidding
Don't you?

I know, I know
I've seen the TV series too
Joss Whedon territory
I know
It's just a TV series
But that's what it says
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

And there it is . . .
A bar, , , .
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
. . . .
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
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
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 . . .
Around to save me."

Guess it must be the knockout drops talking
Guess it must be . . .
Right out


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,
It feels
So might just as well lie here
Let the debilitating effects pass
Let my brain focus
And see what happens

What happens next is
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.

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
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
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

"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
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
On the lips
Wet and warm
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
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
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
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

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