Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

Chp.18

Anya

Info: Chp.1

Buffy having cleansed her body of the offending smelliness, and stickiness of moving furniture for half the day, now stood outside of the door leading to her doctor's office. As promised Spike stood beside of her. Her hand held loosely by his larger one.

The blonde duo look at each other, as Buffy places her free hand on the door and pushes it open.

She had changed into a black halter, flared blue jeans, and tennis shoes. Spike appraises the tight fit of the jeans as he watches her make her way over to the desk situated by the door of the inner office, where the receptionist sits comfortably at the keyboard of the computer in front of her.


"Hi Anya." She smiles broadly at the blonde sitting in front of her.

"Oh, hi Buffy. That is your name isn't it?" She remembered seeing the girl earlier, but couldn't really remember what her name is. Honestly with all these crazy people around how was she supposed to keep up with their names?

She takes a look down at the appointment book lying in front of her on the desk. "Oh, your appointment isn't for another fifteen minutes. You'll have to wait." The peppy little receptionist says, turning her attention back to the computer screen. Where she notices that her stock has risen in the last few moments. She smiles a genuine smile, and bounces in her seat for a moment.

Buffy looks at her strangely and shakes her head in confusion. "Okay." She says turning her back on the strange dancing in her chair, woman, and heads back over to her really nice looking
boyfriend.

Slowly walking over to him, she checks him out. Her eyes rove over his body; working her way up from the ever present Doc's on his feet, to the dark blue of his jeans, then the gray t-shirt with dark blue button-up thrown over it. She licks her lips, moistening them. Letting her gaze fall into his, she sees the glint in his blue orbs that says 'I know your checking me out and loving every bit of what you're seeing.' Her eyes move to his still wet head, his hair all curly from the quick shower he'd just finished. 'God could this man look hotter' She thinks to herself, not letting the thought register in her eyes, or at least she hopes she doesn't.

Watching her walk back to him, he knows what she's doing. Tilting his head ever so slightly, as her eyes roam his body, he smiles smugly. "Like what you see, Pet." He asks as she comes to a
stop in front of him.

"You know color suits you." She finally says, and smiles up at him. She takes a deep breath, and tries to still her racing heart. "Anya won't let us in, until it's time for the appointment. We'll have to wait for about fifteen minutes."

"You know me and waitin' are un-mixy things, Luv." He shrugs his shoulders, wishing that he still had the duster, which would've made it look cooler as he shrugged. He chuckles at the thought, bringing a totally confused look onto Buffy's face. "Was just thinkin' that would've looked like I didn't give a damn if I had the duster." He explains, and turns on his heel heading for the couch to sit down.

Her head tilts, at the absurdity of what he'd just said, but yeah she missed that ratty old duster too, although she'd never tell him that. That thing was a huge fashion don't, but for some reason the damned leather attrocity suited him, and he it. Putting the thought out of her mind, she follows him. "Yeah, but look magazines." She totally avoids the whole duster issue and shows him the two-year old magazine in her hand.

He snorts, "yeah, and their all prolly ten-years old." He says sarcastically, as he pick up one that has a picture of a Desoto on the front of it.

"We can talk. I promise I won't let you get too bored." She leans over and places a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"With you, there's never a dull moment, Sweetheart." He whispers in her ear, and grabs her hand. "Why do shrinks always have couches?" He asks pointing at the big couch they're now
sitting on.

"I really have no idea, Spike. Why don't you ask one, I'm sure you can find a shrink around here somewhere." She answers sarcastically. Rolling her eyes at his silly question, she squeezes
his hand.

They try to wait patiently, looking through the magazines and commenting on the ads in them, then talk about what Buffy's going to say to the doctor.

The blonde woman behind the desk jumps, "Anya?" She's startled out of her computer-induced coma. Having danced for a full minute, she'd gone back to doing her actual work. She looks around wondering where the voice is coming from.

There's static, and then "Anya? Are you out there?" Comes over the computerized intercom.

"OH!" She says, hoping that no body had seen her look like a scared rabbit. 'Cause she didn't want to be compared to anything having to do with those creepy, little, fuzzy tailed critters. She shivers at the thought, as she reaches for the COM button.

She presses the little button on the keyboard for the intercom. "Yes, sir?"

"Is my four o'clock here yet?" She hears the rough voice of the doctor in the other room ask in a gruff New York accent.

"Yes she is Dr. Wood. She brought a friend with her. I bet he gives her many orgasms, or he's really rich." A smile comes over the woman's face. "Maybe both." If only I could find a man like that, she thinks.

Smiling at the COM, the black man shakes his head. "I'm sure that he's both, Anya." He sits there for a moment, still smiling. Sometimes he didn't know what the hell was going on with that girl, he presses the button again, and askes "Could you send them on in, please."

Anya doesn't reply to the inquiry, instead she turns to the two cuddled up on the couch in the corner. 'Oh yeah, she's having many orgasms.' She thinks, as she sees the two kiss briefly, and
look into each other's eyes, smiling. "Buffy, and um, whatever your name is." She shouts, at them.

Buffy jerks her head up at the shrillness of Anya's voice, and looks over to the woman in askance.

"The doctor will see you now." She says smiling like she didn't just bust everyone's within a five-mile radius's eardrums with the shrillness of her voice.

Getting up from the couch, Buffy and Spike walk over to the desk. "The names Spike, Anya." Spike says as he leans on the desk in front of the receptionist.

Anya looks over to Buffy. "Does he give you many orgasms? I bet he does. If he doesn't I'm sure he will give you many pleasurable ones, later." She states with a matter-of-fact tone, as if she knows that there will be many orgasms for the slight girl in the near future.

Spike laughs, Buffy rolls her eyes, and they are both thinking the same thing. 'She's most definitely the Anya they know or knew.'

"I swear if she says anything about money, I might just have to hug her." Buffy whispers.

Spike laughs again, getting a confused look from Anya in the process. He just smiles knowingly at her and opens the office door for Buffy. Placing a gentle hand on her back he ushers his
Slayer into the room. Upon closing the door, they hear. "Does he have lots of money?" Buffy can't help but shake her head ruefully, and turn to stare evilly at the now closed door.

Her shoulders slump in defeat, as she turns back to an amused Spike. "I'm gonna have to hug her now, aren't I?"

He can't help but chuckle at her reaction, as he tries to answer her. He finally sputters out, a barely coherent, "Yeah, Luv, you are."

"You're getting entirely too much enjoyment out of this," she states, and pushes past him to enter the office proper.

A/N Anya, Anya, Anya. You gotta love her one track mind. Hope you all enjoyed. Leave a review, and tell me. Sorry the format didn't work on here for some reason, I tried to fiz it but the darned thing kept wanting to run words together.