I don't own any characters or settings on the show. I *do* however, own George. I'm not sure if I want him (hehe) but he's mine. Feel free to use him, just let me know if ya do.(hehe, the adventures of George..now read to find out who George is!)
Author's Note: This story came to me very late at night when I was in one of those freaky moods. It was written to be stupid, which it is. It was written to be funny, which ( i think) it is. It was not written to be offensive, and I really hope it isn't. I wrote it for my own enjoyment and so the idea would stop driving me crazy. This story is on a different timeline. 'The Return of Angelus' never happened. This is a nice, happy Buffyverse. (with a few wackos, of course. they make life interesting)
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Angel leaned casually against a wall. He was in that ever-so-popular teen hangout, the Bronze. In his form-fitting jet black shirt and black jeans, he seemed too conspicuous among the more brightly clad teenagers. He was situated near the back of the club, avoiding the overly hormonal young women who were constantly assaulting him.
Angel glanced towards the refreshment area, picking out the only woman he was interested in from among the hustle and bustle of gyrating bodies. The love of his life (or is it unlife?), Buffy Summers, current Vampire Slayer of Sunnydale. Buffy was on a most important mission--to obtain a cup of coffee from the bar. She should be back any minute. When she did return, Angel was hoping they could dance to a few slow songs, followed by a romantic walk in the park, concluding the evening with--
Angel’s musings were abruptly interrupted when he noticed a short, pudgy man in his early twenties standing in front of him. The man, who was, in Angel’s opinion, very badly dressed, cleared his throat. The vampire regarded Short ‘n’ Pudgy quizzically. Breaking the silence he asked, "Did you want something?"
"Hi," the man said in a low voice. "I’m George." Angel cocked an eyebrow at Short ‘n’ Pudgy, now known as George. The way this small man was looking at him was making Sunnydale’s resident vamp-with-a-soul feel decidedly uncomfortable. He really did not want to be talking to him any longer. "Well, George, is there something you want? If not, I’ll be going..."
"Do you have a...boyfriend?" George questioned in a seductive voice. Angels’ eyes widened in surprise.
"No, of course I don’t!" Angel snapped, very, very freaked by this situation. He attempted to move away, but the man cut him off. Angel sincerely hoped George would move. If he didn’t, Angel was gonna remember how to deal out painful death very quickly .
"Do you *want* a boyfriend, gorgeous?" Said George, his eyes scanning Angel’s muscular body in a suggestive way. At that instant, Buffy, coffee in hand, popped up in between her honey and the man who was harassing him. She answered for Angel in a sharp tone of voice. "No he does *not* want a boyfriend. Leave. Now. Go."
George looked extremely disappointed. He gave Angel one more appreciative glance. Dragging his feet, he turned away, mumbling to himself when he suddenly perked up. George had his eyes on a no-neck football player, who was following a cheerleader around like a puppy. George was soon trailing after them, trying to gain No-Neck’s attention. Anyway...
Buffy looked at her boyfriend and sighed in exasperation. "Why do you have to be so darn irresistible? Even the *guys* try and hit on you! I mean, what do I have to do? Stick a sign on you that says ‘Not available’?!"
Angel just smiled down at her. Sighing, she smiled back. "Well, at least I got to you first. C’mon, honey, let’s dance." She dragged him out to the dance floor, where they remained for a better part of the night, slow dancing to every song. Buffy received numerous jealous looks--from members of both sexes.
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