Buffy leaned back in her chair and took a sip from her wine cooler bottle. "So I was thinking..."
"Imagine that," Harry muttered. Luke snickered, but looked abashed when Buffy shot him a glare.
"That we should go on strike," she continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
"On strike?" Luke's eyes narrowed through the steam rising from his mug of muja-flavored tea. "Are you serious?"
Buffy rolled her eyes and turned to Harry, whose forehead was furrowed in thought. "Do you really think it will work?"
"No," Buffy replied with a snort. "But if I get paired with Spike or Angel one more time, I'm going to hurl."
Luke snorted. "At least you don't have hordes of profic writers creating a new girlfriend for you every book, and getting into ship wars over it."
Harry winced. "Can we not talk about ship wars, just this once?"
"Oh, please," Buffy said. "People slash you with half the characters in your books. My show is full of hot girls, but where's the femmeslash?"
"Hello, Faith?" Luke offered. "Willow? Anya? You get slashed. All I get is Han, who's beyond straight, and maybe the occasional Obi-Wan fic. And not the cute young Ewan version of him, mind you, but the old wrinkly version, who's like 50 years older than me." He shuddered.
"Which brings me back to the point," Buffy continued. "We go on strike. No muses, no new canon, no nothing until I get more pussy and you get more... whatever it is you get."
"Ass," Luke said, at the exact same moment Harry said, "Arse." They shot each other dirty looks.
Before Buffy could make a witty quip about Brit-picking, the door opened, and two young men walked in, looking around the room with wide eyes. Harry ran a hand through his hair and smiled at them, but Buffy was already on her feet and stalking towards them.
"Oh, no you don't -- your show's only been on for two seasons. The minimum for the Hero Club is three."
"Oh, come on," Luke said, a hint of a whine in his tone. "Their show just got renewed for a third. They'll be in here come fall anyway."
"There are rules," Buffy spat. "Just because they're cute incestuous brothers doesn't mean they get to bend them. Out!"
She closed the door and returned to her seat on the sofa. Luke and Harry exchanged a glance.
"That time of the month?" Harry asked, already holding his wand out to defect the bottle he expected her to hurl at him.
She closed her eyes. "No. I'm just frustrated that Xander gets more action than I do."
"As does Draco." Harry sighed.
"Yeah, but half of it's with you."
"So we strike," Luke said. He pulled the lightsaber hilt from his belt and held it out before him.
"Strike," Harry said holding out his wand.
"Strike," Buffy said, and rummaged through her purse for a stake. "Until they write us some fucking slash."
Author's Chapter Notes:
bethbethbeth requested: Harry, Buffy, and Luke: considering whether they should go on strike.