9FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
PART: 1/1
RATING: PG-13
GENRE: Shonen Ai (a.k.a. Slash)
CHARACTERS/COUPLES: Warren/Andrew
SPOILER: Set in 6th season, somewhere between "Life Serial" and "Dead Things." The Trio's happy days.
SUMMARY: This story is all about making geek love. And if you belong to those people who prefer Vogon poetry to shonen ai, feel free to Disapparate at this point. You have been warned.
DISCLAIMER: Grrr! Arrgh! Buffy the Vampire Slayer (who does not appear in this) and the Legion of Dorkness a.k.a. the Troika, a.k.a. the Empire of the Nerds belong to Mutant Enemy and not to Yamato. He does not make any money off this story, so don't sue him.
COMMENT: It's a little bit different from the original German version, but it's really hard translating geek references into a foreign language, especially when you don't have a babelfish at hand. To get all the geek references you have to be an even bigger geek than me, and that's difficult, though possible.
FEEDBACK: Me like comments *g* Me no like flames.
BETA: A big thanks to the gals from the group, Karen, Lin, and Washu. You did a great job.
.
.
Don't Pop your Lightsaber into my Warp Drive!
-
.
Sunnydale's never a quiet place, especially not during nighttime. Nasty demons keep prowling the streets, looking for innocent virgins they can ritually sacrifice, and for kissing couples they can slaughter from behind, as told in our good old urban legends. Growling demons. Howling werewolves. Devils laughing maliciously...
Why, sure there's a difference between devils and demons. I mean, devils are lawful evil and demons happen to be chaotic evil. Devils reside in Hell, while demons creep around the Abyss. Devils have a clearly organized structure, while demons keep beating the crap out of each other.
That's what the AD&D Monster Manual has to say on the subject!
But it wasn't about devils or demons, why I couldn't sleep tonight. It was the insufferable racket coming from the living room of our top secret underground headquarters. Earlier that day, we had tapped some wires to get web connection for free, and since then, Andrew and Jonathan had been playing Quake III online. These nerds had been blowing each other up for over three hours now, instead of plotting new schemes for eliminating the Slayer and taking over Sunnydale. But as it appears, plotting schemes would require some brains for a start, something that neither of these dumbos could call his own.
Thinking. That's my job. Warren Mears, a.k.a. Mighty Evil Mastermind, the Trio's boss. Diabolic arch villain and technical genius. May Geordi cower behind his stupid visor and Scotty hide behind his ugly beer belly for all eternity, for here comes the one and only superbrain on this ship.
No way! Don't compare me to Wesley Crusher, or I'll get extremely pissed! I'm not some annoying know-it-all nerd, and I wouldn't have followed that wanna-be Jedi traveler guy in the first place. I would have taken over the Enterprise and declared war on the Romulan Empire. (Klingons got nothing of interest to me.)
Compare me to Q. That's a lot better, since I happen to be the future ruler of time and space in all dimensions. (After I'm done with Sunnydale, of course.) Well, wouldn't wanna screw that old hag Janeway. I'd rather go for that Ambassador chick from B5. After she grew some hair, of course.
The door to the bridge slid open, and I heard Andrew yelling at Jonathan: "Turn it down, you Uruk-Hai! Captain's sleeping!"
"Why does he always get to be the Captain?" Jonathan complained, but nevertheless, the racket stopped instantly. The door closed again, and Andrew came padding down the hallway, without turning on the light. Luckily for him, he got safely past my Japanese model kits. If something had happened to my EVA Unit 2, I'd have cruelly avenged her.
The sound of his steps ceased as he entered my bedroom, and a moment later, he sat down next to me on the bed. For another instant, I kept quiet, lying motionless with my eyes closed. Then I did this thing from 'Aliens' in that scene where the chick runs down the hallway, and the alien jumps at her from out of the dark - me being the alien, of course, not the chick - and I leapt at him, hissing and snarling, and baring my teeth. He always falls for it, although he should know by now that a Sith Lord never sleeps. He only meditates to become one with the Dark Side of the Force.
Sure it worked, like it always does. Scared shitless, he stumbled to the floor and was about to scream, when I did what the Alien always does with its victims. I put myself over his mouth. We had quite a lightsaber fight in there, but I managed to push him back behind his teeth, finally cornering him in his own palate.
Not much time for victory cheers, though. He started coughing and gasping for air. Probably, bird brain forgot he's got a nose to breath through.
"Why do you always have to taste like pizza, you Ninja Turtle? Couldn't you at least skip the tuna fish?"
"What's wrong with tuna fish?" Andrew scowled. "Dolphins aren't in danger. It was the humpback whales they had to save, remember?"
"In fact, I do remember. I just don't get it, why they needed those dumb whales in the first place, if Spock could speak whale anyway!" We were wriggling on the carpet like Arrakian sandworms. Well, actually, I couldn't really wriggle on a carpet, since my first officer was between me and the carpet and his hands (Course I know sandworms don't have hands. It was just some colorful methaphor I used.) clawed into my t-shirt.
"Hey! Watch it, dude. It's my Godzilla shirt. And if you rip it, I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger!"
"Ouch! It bit me." He rolled over to the side, so I finally did get to know the carpet. (Hello, ) And he pulled something metallic from under his back. "Hey, man. It's your old graphics card. Can't we just go up there?" He waved towards the bed.
"No way, you moron! You'll just drool all over my Batman pillow again." Getting his stupid belt open was harder than breaking into an Egyptian pyramid, even counting all the death traps. Especially since that wriggling Tribble didn't know how to keep still.
"Look who's talking!" He held the graphics card like a shield in front of him, because he didn't want me to see he was wearing these ridiculous Donald Duck boxers again. "Night before last, you spilled your ektoplasma all over my plush E.T.!" He gave me another puppy dog-eyed scowl.
"So? We're pure evil, and evil doesn't play with toys!" Finally, I manged to snatch the graphics card we'd been struggeling over, threw it away, and pulled him up from the floor. "What are you? A man or a mouse?"
His jeans and my Godzilla shirt went to join the card, and I held back a comment about it being so totally not cool, wearing two different types of socks. If there ain't a female on the ship to take care of laundry, some things tend to get out of hand.
"Why, I'm a mouse, of course!" To prove it, he started nibbling at me, pressing his teeth into my chest. "Course, that makes me *nibble* the supreme ruler *nibble* of the universe *smooch* and you're nothing but part of an experiment, to...Ahhhhhh..." He kinda lost it as I kept deforming his Donalds, but I know answer's 42 anyway.
Since experiments tend to develop a will of their own anyway, I flung the rest of his clothes down the nearest wormhole, and watched him taking refuge under my blanket, mumbling something about Ice Age. (I guess it was the temperature he talked about, not the movie.) I myself took my time. A true crime lord doesn't know hastiness, and as I stood before him, kinda like a Terminator freshly arrived from the future, doing this Schwarzenegger thing with my impressive muscles, his tongue was already hanging from his mouth like he'd eaten some Fred and George tongue toffees.
"Hasta la vista, baby!" I suppose I've got to practice the accent, but he didn't seem to care at the moment. He was too busy swallowing me with his eyes.
"Don't you look at me like I flashy-thinged you, A.! You're about to reach the stars!" My voice finally rescued him from his cryopod freeze. He slowly raised his arms to grab me and pull me closer. Kinda looked like one of them Romero trilogy zombies, but I bit him first, sinking my teeth into his shoulder. Now he even made noises like a zombie.
"My precioussss!" His arms snaked around my hips, his fingers pressing crop circles onto my skin, his breath switching to turbo mode instantly. But before we ended up doing that sandworm thingy again, I managed to break free by pulling myself up, performing a stunning horizontal 180° rotation in the air - I suppose it wouldn't pass for a Chun Li rising bird kick, but I'm sure you're getting the picture. And I did get that stupid blanket out of the way.
I ventured forth into the undiscovered country south of his navel. An eighteen zero zero strength + intelligence dual class fighter/wizard (Okay, okay. I DID use my special dice when I created that one.) has no fear of dark realms, nor the hairy monsters which lurk in there.
"Why do you alwaysh getcho be on tchop?" he complained, mumbling from the fathoms below. I wasn't really up to giving straight answers at the moment. See, his Hobbit had just reached Mount Doom, and that kinda took most of my attention. Nevertheless, I thought of Janeway just in time to catch myself. The first to come is the first to die!
"That's because I'm the Key Master and you're just the Gate Keeper!" I didn't mumble. Well, I could raise my head after all. But he got to watch the Star Destroyer hanging from the ceiling, while all I could look at was some dumb matress some evil matress hunter had killed a long time ago on its home planet in a galaxy far away, to sell it here on Earth. It's a cruel world we're living in, if even a harmless matress can't live in peace.
I broke through the time-space continuum. I was Captain Future riding the lost ark through Gotham City and the deserts of Arrakis. I became one with the Force and crossed the final frontier. The Nexus engulfed me. My midichloreans jumped off scale and back again. My molecular structure kept disintegrating and integrating possibly at the same time. The power of Greyskull flowed through my veins, and one moment later it flowed through my throat, too. Course my Padawan was the first to lose control. My warpcore exploded. I heard the Elves of Valinor sing.
Oh, come on. Forget about this crap! I just had one hell of an orgasm. That's all!
A few minutes later, we lie sprawled out on the poor innocently slaughtered matress, all worked up and sweaty, trying to catch our breaths. Since Andrew has turned around to me, both our feet rest on the Batman pillow now. He doesn't taste like pizza anymore. From the living room, I can hear Jonathan making Quake racket again, though it's not as loud as it was before.
"Warren?"
"Hmh?"
"What's Jonathan's Bajoran earring doing in here?"
"Matrix must be malfunctioning."
He's about to give me another one of his puppy dog glances, a real desperate one this time, but I throw my most charming Sean Connery smile in against it. "Oh, come on. Don't get any ideas. You wouldn't believe...Not me and that loser. What the hell are you thinking? Don't panic! You're my number one on this ship, Commander!"
His puppy dog eyes change from "how can you do this to me?" to "am I really?" and to give him some proof I raise my hand, spreading middle and ring finger. He tries to imitate the movement, but doesn't get his sweaty fingers right into place, not until he presses his hand firmly against mine.
Loser! Can't even do a proper Vulcan salute! And something like that wants to rule the world by my side? Pathetic!
"Warren?"
"Hmh?"
"I love you."
"I know."
My smile's not Sean Connery anymore. More like Jack Nicholson.