speaker_to_customers | Ficlet: Take Me To Your Leda

The first round of voting in the Twisting the Hellmouth CoA Awards, deciding who makes the cut for the second round, has now ended. I only made it through in one category, ‘Tabula Avatar’ in ‘Best Games Crossover’ (although I’m still up for two Mod Awards), and

curiouswombat also only made it through in one category (‘Best Lord of the Rings Crossover’ for ‘Return of the Key’). I’m absolutely flabbergasted that she didn’t get through for ‘Best New Author’; I honestly didn’t think that anyone else stood any chance whatsoever against her and was regarding her victory as a forgone conclusion.

Yesterday I had a look at last year’s winners, wondering what my chances were, and was reminded that TtH does have an unfortunate preponderance of Super!Xander fans. The trend is for the most successful stories to be about Xander wearing a costume as a super-powerful entity in Season 2’s ‘Halloween’ and, usually, retaining those powers for ever after. I resolved to write the ultimate Super!Xander story and guarantee myself supremacy in next year’s CoA Awards. Unfortunately, although I came up with a persona for him of perhaps unparalleled power, I wasn’t able to take the project completely seriously…

Rating R, exactly 2,000 words.

Take Me To Your Leda

“I was hoping for something more, well, macho,” Xander said to the costume shop proprietor. “Like, say, Thor or Odin.”

The Englishman grinned. “I assure you, young man, ancient gods don’t come any more macho than this one. Wear it and I promise you will have a wonderful time.”

Xander shrugged. “So not convinced but, hey, it’s the only costume I can afford so, yeah, I’ll take it.” He paid and left the shop with the robes.

Behind him Ethan Rayne smirked and rubbed his hands together. “Now this should be… interesting.”

- - - - -
Zeus, ruler of the gods, strode through the streets of Sunnydale. A monster came out to challenge him; a vrykolakas, one of the Undead, walking as if still living rather than dwelling as a shade in the grim and dark realm of Hades, and surviving by drinking the blood of mortals. This one sought to slake its thirst with the blood of the divine Zeus and its temerity was swiftly punished. A thunderbolt reduced it to smoldering ashes and Zeus walked on.

A mortal shade, in the form of a young maiden, approached him. She was passably fair of face, although not markedly so, and Zeus paused for a moment. The shade babbled at him in some barbarian tongue. Zeus lost interest. He knew not how she had escaped the realm of Hades, or descended from the Elysian Fields, but her insubstantiality meant that she was of no use to him. He snapped his fingers and banished her from his presence, sending her to wherever she called home, and strode on.

He saw another maiden, this one much more beautiful, running in apparent terror and changed his course to intercept. She was being pursued by a shaggy monster shaped like a man but larger, somewhat reminiscent of a Satyr but with large hairy feet instead of hooves, and it seemed to be pursuing with intent that was murderous rather than lustful.

A thunderbolt was not appropriate here, for the maiden might be injured by the blast, and so Zeus resorted to physical combat. He advanced to the attack. The monster growled and charged, lunging with its fangs, and lashing out with an arm that bore vicious talons. Zeus blocked the blow with his shield Aegis, bringing the creature to an abrupt halt, and then retaliated with a pankration kick that lifted the beast from its feet and sent it flying twenty feet through the air. It crashed to the ground and lay motionless.

Zeus turned his attention to the maid. Dark of hair but fair of face, with a slim yet voluptuous figure, she was an appealing sight. Her clothes were strange to his eyes, barbarian trews and a tight tunic patterned like unto the fur of a leopard, but clothing could be removed. He raised his eyebrows on seeing certain oddities of her costume, such as the lines painted upon her face in emulation of whiskers and the false cat ears that rose from her head; was she a wild Scythian, perhaps? She was beautiful, despite her barbaric strangeness, and he desired her.

She smiled and spoke to him in an incomprehensible barbarian tongue, as had the shade, but this time there was incentive for Zeus to be able to communicate. He decreed that he could speak the language and, as he willed it, so it was.

“…and where did you get those rock-hard abs? Hello, Earth to Cordelia, this is not salty goodness, this is Xander Harris, loser extreme,” the girl was saying. “Okay, you saved me, for which I’m totally grateful, but hey, no reason for me to go totally overboard with the thanks. But, yeah, thanks.” She looked down at a rent in the sleeve of her tunic. “Although, couldn’t you have been a little quicker with the rescue? Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy there tore my costume and I don’t think Partytown is gonna give me my deposit back any time soon.”

Zeus ignored her words, which had become barely more comprehensible with his knowledge of her language, and laid his hand upon her shoulder. “You are blessed above all, maiden,” he told her, “for you have caught the eye of Zeus, Lord of Olympus, and tonight you shall know bliss beyond the ken of mortals.”

“Can I say, huh? Bliss? You’re not, like, coming on to me, are you, Harris?”

Zeus took her in his arms, taking no notice of her attempts to fend him off, and planted a kiss on her lips. The girl struggled briefly but then gave in and returned the kiss. Zeus caressed her body, fondling her breasts and her buttocks, and then sought to undress her so that they could begin the act of love. He was brought to a halt by an unexpected snag. The tunic and the trews were all of one piece and there was no obvious way in which to remove them.

“Hey!” the girl protested. “What the hell do you think you are doing, buster? Just ‘cause you saved me from a monster doesn’t give you the right to grope me. Keep your hands to yourself.”

“You will thank me, for in my arms you shall know delight unmatched,” Zeus assured her. “Remove these garments that we may couple.”

“Huh and double huh? Uh, I’m kinda guessing this isn’t the Xander Harris I know and love to hate,” the maiden said. “Like, that beard looks real, and there is no way Xander could come out with a spiel that smooth.”

“Hasten, fair maid,” Zeus went on. “Undress yourself.”

“The hell I will,” retorted the girl. “Right out in the street? Even if you were George Clooney, which you so aren’t, that would be a big no-no.” She wriggled free of his grasp and raced away along the street.

Zeus stood and watched her for a moment. Was she worthy of his attentions? A study of her buttocks as she ran made him decide that the answer was a definite ‘yes’. He snapped his fingers and vanished.

- - - - -
Cordelia raced along the street. This just sucked. Monsters everywhere, saved by freaking Xander Harris, and then he makes a major league pass at her – and, worst of all, she’d been tempted to go along with it. Hey, the last time he’d saved her life, and she’d been all big with the thanks, he’d just blown her off. No way was she going to let herself be humiliated like that again. He could…

A noise from a side alley broke her train of thought. She looked in that direction and gasped. Gold! A rain of gold coins was falling from the air and rattling and clinking on the ground. Hundreds of them. They had to be worth thousands of dollars. Not that she was short of money but this was too good to pass up. She stopped, turned, and checked behind her. Nothing was currently chasing her, except possibly a bearded version of Xander Harris who was way too studly to be the real thing, and if he was after her he had fallen way behind. It looked to be safe to approach; nothing was lurking in the alley, using the gold as bait to lure her in. She ran to the gold, bent down, and began to scoop up the coins.

Suddenly the gold was gone and, in its place, she was holding Xander. She opened her eyes wide in surprise and her jaw dropped. She tried to release him and pull away but he was holding her in a firm and unbreakable embrace. His lips descended on her open mouth and kissed her passionately.

Cordelia struggled for a few seconds and then melted in the intensity of the kiss. When he broke off she was gasping and misty-eyed. “Wow,” she breathed. “Just, wow.”

“Prepare for the bliss I promised you, beautiful maiden,” Xander said. “First, I shall do something about those ugly barbarian clothes.”

“Forget it. No way am I getting naked in the street,” Cordelia protested.

“I shall exchange them for something more attractive,” Xander said. He snapped his fingers. Instantly Cordelia’s leopard-print cat-suit was replaced by an abbreviated and flimsy version of an Ionic chiton.

“Hey!” Cordelia snapped. “Give me the costume back! It’s only rented and… I… oh!”

Xander’s hands moved over her body, exploring, caressing, and exciting. Cordelia’s willpower faded as her nipples hardened. He ran a hand over her leg, stroking upwards, and Cordelia discovered that she no longer wore underwear. She moaned, began to return his embrace, and then pulled herself together and opened her mouth to protest once more. Xander pre-empted her with another kiss. His fingers found their target.

Cordelia jerked with shock. That was something she didn’t permit until at least the third date with someone of social standing equivalent to the Captain of the football team at the minimum. She moved her hand down to pull his hand away but instead she found herself holding something else. An exceedingly impressive something. Her eyes widened.

The distraction had given Xander time to get to work. His caresses achieved the desired effect. Cordelia moaned softly and her legs parted as she succumbed. The god in Xander’s form snapped the fingers of his free hand. A kline, a combination couch and bed, popped into existence behind Cordelia. He lowered her onto the bed, worked her chiton up over her hips, pulled aside his chlamys and mounted her.

Cordelia made one last attempt to protest then jerked, gasped, and wrapped her arms around Xander’s muscular torso. “Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes!”

- - - - -
A vampire wandered along the main street. Noises from an alley attracted his attention, and that of another vampire slightly further away, and the first vampire headed for the sounds. He saw the couple, engaged in vigorous and pleasurable physical activity, and he grinned. An easy meal presented to him on a plate; a two-course meal at that. He bared his fangs and advanced. The other vampire, aware that things that seemed too good to be true usually were, stopped at the entrance to the alley and observed the action from a concealed vantage point.

Zeus took his right hand away from Cordelia’s breast, pulled a thunderbolt out of thin air, and tossed it without aiming. It soared into the air, turned, and descended with unerring accuracy. The vampire exploded into dust.

“Bloody hell!” muttered the second vampire, for it was Spike. “Won’t try eating those two, that’s for sure. Oh, well, at least it’s entertaining, and the bird is a bit of alright. Now, where did I put that video camera?”

- - - - -
“It could have been worse,” Giles said.

“Yeah, at least I’m not pregnant,” Cordelia agreed. “It would have totally sucked to have to drop out of school to look after the spawn of a loser with a shining future in the fast food service industry.”

“Hey!” Xander protested. “I speak Greek now. There has to be something I can do with that.”

“Right,” said Cordelia. “The fast food will be moussaka.”

“That wasn’t my meaning,” Giles said. “I was thinking of some of the other forms in which Zeus seduced mortal women. He approached Europa in the form of a white bull…”

“Eww!” Cordelia interrupted.

“And of course, perhaps most famously, he seduced Leda in the form of a swan,” Giles went on.

Cordelia wrinkled up her nose. “Eww and double eww. Totally gross to the max.”

“Indeed so. At least you were spared that experience.” Giles adjusted his glasses and trained his gaze on Xander. “So you still have an understanding of Greek? Fascinating. Have you, perchance, retained any of the other abilities you possessed whilst in the form of Zeus?”

“Nope,” Xander replied. “One big zilch on the thunderbolts front, the same with the transforming of clothes, and no more power to materialize furniture out of nothing.”

“And no more golden showers, I take it?”

Xander went bright red.

“Hey!” Cordelia snapped. “What Xander and I do in private is nobody’s business but ours.”

The End

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