Rating: PG, for loads of Xanderbabble
Warnings: AU and disturbing misuse of thesaurus
Spoilers: At this point, the only spoilers that really matter are from the stories in this verse.
Disclaimer: All I can claim to own is a slightly beat up pair of kapa tennis shoes circa 1982, a cat who acts like a dog but thinks he's human, and two teens who regularly drive me up the wall. They won't be getting auto licenses any time soon :P
Fifth in the Daddy!Verseseries
Sneaking out of the apartment, Xander leaves two worn out centurian demons to their rest. ((snerk)) Yeah, he left'em passed out and almost comatose, vegging in their juices.
But he, the brave new vamp, was on a mission. The mighty Xanman set out to hunt the elusive hostess monster. Twinkies and HoHos and Hersheys oh my!
It was only a couple of blocks from Angel's place that his eyes caught a glimpse of the shining star of weary travellers everywhere - 7-11, the birthplace of every male's dream beverage, as well as home to hundreds of culinary delights.
No cars in the parking lot, it would appear deserted if not for the blaring neon lights announcing this week's special prices on Bud and Caramel Apple Cappucino (together? EWwwW!). At the far end of the drive, he did spy a battered bicycle double chained and padlocked to the payphone. Ah, we have clerkdom!
The double doors stick slightly from years of soda spilt in the doorframe. This minor setback will not detain our stalwart hunter from his trek into the wilds of crammed isles and clogged syrup dispensers. Throwing his chest out, his head up high, and (almost) his hip out of joint from bumping loose the jammed door, Xander bravely goes where all men have gone before. Numerous times, especially during SuperBowl Sunday.
A muffled curse from the back room indicates that, yes indeed, there is life in here. Granted, it's only the clerk - who would probably be much happier (and healthier) working elsewhere or during daylight hours. Cus hey, Xan's a growing vamp. And however much he craves chocolate-y goodness, that clerk smells like... AB neg? Hmm, would go down nicely with a pina colada slurpee.
Humming to himself, that subsonic grumble that wouldn't pick up on human radar, our courageous explorer ventures down the chip isle. 'Sire'll get pissy with me if I don't pick up something other than chocolisiousness.' He loads his arms down with Funyons and Cheetos and Baha Avocado Jalepeno Doritos before dumping his treasures on the counter and heading for his second stop.
Destination: Chewy, warm brown, melt on your tongue, slide down your throat, sticks to your lips (for later snack-retention fantasy), whether naked - Hersheys original - or bedecked with the jewels of nougat and nuts - Snickers - or lying decadent in seductive poses - Toblerone - in all its many forms, our fearless hunter stalks the in-dangered sweet known to commoners as simply 'chocolate'.
It's not enough to grab a few bars of each selection. No, there must be a strategy to the trek into cocoa haven. So with utmost grace and years of dedicated training, he turns swiftly and silently toward his prey.
From the corner of his vision, he sees the clerk peeking his head out of the office. Damned fool, doesn't the aproned twit know that he could possibly scare the multiple herds of delicate creatures into hiding? A quickly thrown snarl - with fang and flashing gold eyes - sends the Simpsons' reject scuttling back to his inner sanctum.
'Ha! Habib doesn't have what it takes to truly master the mighty chocolate beasts! He is simply playing zookeeper-in-training, feeding them from time to time, and making sure their caretakers don't forget their change.'
Stealthily sneaking toward the candy isle in a low crouch, Xander looks both ways, as if to catch a hidden trap set by one of the friskier bars. He will not fall victim to their wiles again - unlike that unfortunate incident at the Shop-n-Go a few years back, damned Zagnut bar!
Coiled muscles spring as one, focussing his formidable energy on one gigantic LEAP into the fray. Cackling madly, the mighty hunter rips cardboard and packaging limb from limb, tossing his tropheys into the convenient hand basket provided by previous big game hunters.
Slightly sweaty, our cocksure hero strides proudly up toward the register with his delicious booty. His expedition a success, now only one beast stood between Xander and his hard-won bounty - the dreaded late night convenience store clerk, who spoke less english than Mr. Snuffalupagus.
Eyeing the bedraggled form of his sole late night customer, the worker slowly raises his hands above the counter. Nothing to see here, move along - standard gesture of subservience worldwide.
'Yes, you are weak and I am mighty. For I have achieved victory over the terrible beast that is national chain store hell. Your pitiful attempts at camoflauge will not deter me from capturing my victims.'
For some strange reason, Habib appears rather... nervous tonight. We're not sure why. But it could have something to do with the maniacal gleam sparkling madly in amber eyes. Or perhaps the flash of a big toothy grin, dripping purple slushee - rather spoils the whole demonic image, but hey, it was GOOD. Or just maybe, possibly, it's the fact that one man is carrying enough sugary sweetness to satisfy the entire athletics department of a 5A high school. Whichever the case, he uses more speed than is his habit, in an attempt at getting the lunatic with dental problems OUT of his store.
Balancing twelve bulging bags and three extra large slurpee cups the two blocks back to Angel's apartment, Xander has time to consider that his trip wasn't all that successful after all...
He forgot to pick up something for his sire and grampa-sire. ((Doh!))