"Gone With The Vamp"

Title: Gone With the Vamp

Author: Judy/Beatle Spike

Rating: G, I guess

Category: Fic, or Badfic, depending how you look at it.

Disclaimer: Nothing from BtVS or GWTW belongs to me.

Summary: Parody of "Gone With the Wind" with Buffy as Scarlett O'Hara, Spike as Rhett Butler, Giles as Mammy, Faith as Suellen O'Hara, Willow as Melanie Hamilton, Wesley as Aunt Pittypat, wimpy Angel as Ashley Wilkes, Joyce as Ellen O'Hara, Harmony as Honey Wilkes, Lyle Gorch as Archie, Drusilla as Carreen O'Hara, Xander as Charles Hamilton, Cordelia as India Wilkes, Judy as Belle Watling, and Oz as Frank Kennedy. Various others to play minor roles.


Buffy sat on her front porch, listening to the men who surrounded her brag about feats of bravery. She tossed her head and laughed flirtatiously.

"Oh, I can't bother my pretty little head about that!" she exclaimed. "If I did, I would just bust!" "Oh, come on, Buffy," answered Scott Hope, who was on the right of her. "You're the smartest, prettiest girl I know."

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Scott Hope. You know you can afford to be nice to me because you're already practically engaged to Drusilla."

"No!" Scott protested. "You really are."

His friend Mike chimed in, "It's true, and you know it, Buffy."

Buffy laughed again and batted her eyelashes coquettishly. But then her thoughts turned to Angel and she tuned out the boys' boring talk. She thought, Oh, if only Angel were here. He always knows what to say.

Then she heard Angel's name. "What did you say?" she asked.

Scott looked annoyed, but only for a moment. "I *said*, Did you hear the news?"

"What news?"

"I don't know," said Mike slyly. "D'ya think we should tell her, Scott?"

"Tell me!"

"Well, there's going to be an engagement announcement tomorrow night at the Wilkes' barbeque."

"Oh," said Buffy, disappointed. "I already know that. Xander Harris is going to marry Honey Wilkes." "No, it's not that. Angel's going to marry Willow!"

Buffy said nothing and her face didn't change, but her lips went white briefly. The two boys took this only as a sign that she was merely surprised.

"Excuse me, but I need to go inside for a moment and...uh, powder my face." Buffy stood up and brushed off her long green skirt. She disappeared into the house. She stayed there all afternoon.

Giles later berated her, "Why didn't you invite those young men to supper? Don't you have any manners?"

Buffy wearily loooked at Giles. "Not now, Giles, okay?" Then she went outside again, after she was sure that Scott and Mike were gone.

She thought, Angel going to marry Willow? But he loves *me*. And I love him. Imagine handsome, brave Angel married to that whey-faced fool who can't open her mouth except to say "Yes" or "No" and raise a passel of mealy-mouthed brats! Angel *will* be mine, no matter what I have to do to get him to love me.


Joyce Summers plodded into the house after a hard' day's work. The night before, at the gallery, some hoodlums had broken in and trashed the place. Poor Joyce.

Instantly four voices assaulted her:

Faith whined, "Moooom, Buffy's new dress is prettier than mine and I want to wear it to the ball tomorrow night. I look a fright in pink. Why can't she wear my dress? She looks all right in pink."

Drusilla pleaded, "Mummy, I'm one hundred and thirteen now. May I *please* stay up for the ball tomorrow night?"

Buffy asked, "Mother, the collar on the dress I want to wear is coming off. Would you mind sewing it back on?"

Giles said, "Ms. Summers, you *must* eat. Otherwise you won't be able to keep up your strength."

Joyce addressed Giles first: "Whatever you've prepared for me, Giles, you can just send up to the kitchen. I'm not hungry."

To Faith: "Now, Faith, your dress is lovely and suits your complexion, just as Buffy's suits hers. However, you may borrow my garnet necklace." Faith wrinkled her nose in triumph, and Buffy stuck out her tongue at her annoying little sister. Buffy had planned to beg the necklace for herself.

To Drusilla: "Not this year, dear. Next year, when you are one hundred and fourteen, you may put your hair up and go to balls and what a good time my little pale cheeks will have!" Dru looked crestfallen. "Cheer up, darling. You are going to the barbeque tomorrow."

To Buffy: "Give me your dress and I will fix it after prayers."

Giles protested, "You are going to eat every bite of this supper, and don't go arguing with me."

Joyce was too tired to argue.


"Oh, no you're not! You're not going to show that bosom before three o'clock!" Giles was indignant. "I'm not going to have people talk about this family and say you're nothing but a piece of trash! Not like those Slatterys."

Buffy answered coolly, "You say one word to Mother before we leave and I won't eat a bite. If she notices after we leave she can't make me come back and change. It would take too long."

Giles weighed the decisions in his mind. Better to let Buffy wear an afternoon dress to a morning barbeque than to have her gobble like a hog in front of everyone.

"Fine," he sighed. "Hold onto something and suck in your breath. I need to take in your corset so you can fit into that dress."

Buffy obligingly did so. Giles looked at her waist admiringly. "No one has a waist like yours," he said proudly. "Every time I lace up Miss Faith littler than twenty inches she up and faints."

"Pooh," Buffy gasped, speaking with difficulty. "That's because she hasn't any more spirit than a rabbit. I never fainted in my life."

"Well," Giles advised her, "it wouldn't hurt you to faint every now and then. Girls that stick their chins out and say 'I will' and 'I won't' and slay vampires in front of other people most--"

"Generally don't catch husbands. I get the drill," Buffy finished for him, rolling her eyes. "When I went to Seattle last year I noticed the Yankee girls acting like they had right good sense, and in front of men, too."

"You didn't notice any of them getting proposed to, either," observed Giles dryly.

"But they must get married and have children," Buffy argued. "How do you think they get more of them?"

Giles was about to argue back when the call came from downstairs: "Buffy, Faith, Drusilla, it's time to leave!"

Buffy nearly killed herself running down the steps. In her rush she accidentally hit Faith, who tried to trip Buffy. Instead Faith ended up tripping Drusilla, who landed on her behind at the bottom of the staircase. Buffy, who infinitely preferred Dru to Faith, took this as an intentional slight to Drusilla. Buffy pulled Faith's hair and Faith pulled back.

Joyce came running at the shrieks of anger and pain. "Girls!" she said. "What is all this?"

Faith and Buffy pointed at each other. "She started it!" they said simultaneously.

"I don't care who started it. Let's just get in the car and go."

And so they did.


"Oh, no, it's that horrible Cordelia Wilkes," groaned Buffy. "She's all I need to make my day the worst ever."

"Now, Buffy," admonished Drusilla, "that's not a nice thing to say. Cordelia's our hostess."

Buffy was in no mood to argue. The only thing on her mind was Angel. She *had* to see him before it was too late.

The three girls, plus Giles, hopped out of the car and greeted their hostesses with hugs and kisses. That was the custom, to slop over with sugar every time you met an unmarried girl or a young matron, to hug and kiss them and compliment them on their dress or baby or whatever. You did this every time you saw them, even if it was ten times a day. It made Buffy want to heave. With old men you were pert and saucy and almost, but not quite, flirtatious. It tickled the old fools' vanities and they declared that you were a minx and that they felt twenty years younger. And when they pinched you, you always blushed; otherwise they would pinch you again with more pleasure than was proper, and then tell their sons that you were fast. But with young bachelors, you could hide behind your fan and compliment them until they were stuffed to the brim about themselves. You could laugh and when they came running to see why you had laughed, you could laugh again and refuse to tell them why. And if they tried to kiss you, sometimes, but not always, you let them do it. Then you cried and declared you didn't know what had come over you, and this would make them so distraught at the thought of making you upset that you could usually get a proposal out of them. (Giles and Joyce had not taught Buffy this but she found it to be most effective.)

"Harmony, Cordelia, how wonderful to see you!" cried Buffy.

"Hello, Buffy," said Cordelia icily. She never had liked Buffy. It wasn't Buffy's fault that she was just naturally prettier than Cordelia. It wasn't Buffy's fault that she didn't pile on makeup and mousse and hair gel just to make herself look more attractive. In truth, it didn't make a girl look more attractive. It just made her look more desperate. Which was why, Buffy supposed, Cordelia couldn't get a beau.

Now, where was Angel? Then Buffy spotted him on the front steps greeting everyone. And at his side was Willow. Buffy put on her most cheerful face and said, "Hello, Angel! Hello, Willow."

"Hello, Buffy," said Angel. "This is my cousin Willow Hamilton, visiting from Los Angeles. I believe you've met her, haven't you?"

"Indeed, I have," said Buffy. She had no interest in Willow.

"Oh, Buffy, I love your dress!" said that silly little fool. Willow herself was wearing a gray organdie dress with cherry-colored trimming and a matching hat. Ugh, thought Buffy in distaste. You'd think she'd at least have the decency to sew ruffles into her basque. Why, she has practically no bust at all.

"Thank you," Buffy started to say, but she was interrupted by Scott and Mike. She could see that Scott had been drinking and would be difficult to handle today. "Excuse me," she said.

"Come on, Buffy, say you'll eat barbeque with us."

"And that you'll promise us all the waltzes."

Buffy was so intent on listening to Angel and Willow's conversation that she said absentmindedly, "All right."

Scott asked, "Really?" "Um-hmm."

The two boys bounced away happily. They would see to it that all the dances were waltzes.

Buffy was broken out of her reverie by a shy voice. "Miss Buffy?" asked Xander Hamilton. "Is it really you?"

She turned a beaming smile upon the hapless Xander. "Why, Xander Hamilton, you handsome old thing! I'll bet you came all the way from L.A. just to break my poor simple country girl's heart!"

Xander turned red with embarrassment. Girls were always very kind to him and treated him like a brother, but they never flirted with him. And here was Buffy Summers, the belle of Orange County, teasing him about breaking her heart!

"I-I," he stammered. Then, suddenly emboldened, he asked, "Would you eat barbeque with me, Miss Buffy?"

"Of course I will, Mr. Hamilton," said Buffy. She was a girl on a mission. The mission: get every man at the barbeque to succumb to her every will and make Angel jealous. That would show him.

Email: judy_slayer@gurlmail.com