F.A.G. Search for Femslash
The conference room of the F.A.G. was suspiciously quiet except for the muttered curses and incantations emanating from the far corner where Willow Rosenberg sat hunched over her laptop tapping in command after command in her attempt to track down the missing femslash. Buffy and Faith, her usual companions at the meetings, had adjourned to the next room, citing the possibility of fireballs and exploding heads as their excuse for abandoning their lover. Kahlan Amnell, who knew a thing or two about magic herself, had quickly rounded up her girlfriend, Cara, and a handful of red-leather clad acolytes and followed the slayers into the anteroom.
"Do you ever get the feeling that you're a sitting duck?" Scribbs whispered to her partner, as the air around her head started to crackle with heat.
Ash tried to look unconcerned as one of Daenerys' pet dragons swooped down and made quick work of the building firestorm. "I'm sure everything is under control." She didn't know what unnerved her more, the witch in the corner or the baby dragons circling above, but it was certainly turning into one of the more bizarre meetings she'd attended and that didn't even include the nude wrestling that had opened the show.
Arizona scooted closer to the two police officers. "Are there any fire fighters in the group?" A frantic search of the terrified crowd had revealed more lawyers, doctors and cops than you could shake a stick at, but not a single fire fighter.
"There's Sandy, one of Kerry Weaver's love interests, but I haven't seen her at a meeting since the second OTP wars," said Ash, "and besides, she's been a little fire-shy since they killed her off in a blaze."
The word 'blaze' was accompanied by a truly remarkable streak of lightening that almost made it look as if Ash was in league with Willow to win the Oscar for best special effects. The row of women closest to Willow began to shuffled their seats backwards into the row behind them as everyone tried to put as much distance between themselves and the witch as possible.
"I know tracking down the missing femslash is important, you guys, but I don't think it's worth dying over," said Calliope as she grabbed hold of her wife's hand and began dragging her toward the exit. "Come on, let's go home."
For a split second, Arizona contemplated resisting, but then she remembered that Mark was scheduled to have the baby all weekend and they'd have the apartment, and it's massive King size bed, all to themselves. "Right behind you."
Scribbs' eyes lit up as she watched the two surgeons depart, but her hopes of a quick getaway were soon dashed as she turned to her scowling partner. "Oh, come on, there's nothing we can do here anyway." Emily and JJ had been sent to retrieve Garcia from ComicCon to help with the search and Ziva had run off to find Abby for the same purpose.
"Solidarity in numbers," stated Ash in a tone that brooked no argument and provided little room for doubt.
Alex Cabot suddenly appeared at their sides and sat down in the seat recently vacated by Arizona. "Scribbs is right," she said, her tone hushed and eyes furtive, "there's no reason for you to stay." The smile of gratitude she'd expected to see on Scribbs' face failed to materialise and instead she was met with twin looks of suspicion. "What?"
"You just want to get back at Gabrielle for winning the wrestling competition, don't you?" accused Scribbs.
"She won fair and square," added Ash.
The corners of Alex's lips turned white as she tried to restrain herself from lashing out and making a spectacle of herself for the second time that day. When she'd angrily suggested that she and Gabrielle wrestle for the gavel Alex had meant arm-wrestle, but once the challenge had been accepted it became clear that the ancient Greek definition of wrestling was entirely different. "I didn't realise we'd be covered in oil," she whined, "or naked."
The sight of two naked blondes wrestling for control of a small wooden gavel had been an interesting way to start the meeting, but it had somehow lacked the sexual tension Scribbs had always assumed would accompany such behaviour. Partly, she supposed, because of the wild gnashing of Gabrielle's teeth and calls for Alex's blood, but also because of the laughter and flashing of cameras from the members of the American Bar Association.
A small fireball shot across the room, chased by a tiny red dragon, before impaling the last remaining pot plant. "Maybe we should leave," said Ash, "I'm sure Willow has everything under control."
A minor stampede had started for the door amidst calls from Gabrielle to remain calm; the bard's plan to employ both magic and computer wizardry in the search for missing femslash had seemed perfect an hour ago, but as the fire damage increased and the 'I told you so' looks from Alex grew more intense, she was beginning to suspect that she'd made a tactical error.
Alex watched with no small amount of glee as Scribbs and Ash joined the throng of fleeing femslash characters. It might not have been the victory she'd craved at the start of the meeting, but despite the public nudity and oil sticking to her skin, she was beginning to feel as if she'd won this round. Now she just had to find the damn gavel and she could escape the firestorm.
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