Can You Tell Me How To Get

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Summary: Just go along with it, as BTVS crosses over with Sesame Street!

AUTHOR: A. Lite
EMAIL: a_lite_2000@yahoo.com
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike, Xander/Anya, Willow/Tara
RATING: PG
SETTING: Season 5 at almost any point. This is a fun story that popped into my head one day. I said, "What would happen if BTVS met Sesame Street?" As usual, this story has some Buffy/Spike. Please don't be offended by any of this. It is just in good fun.
DISCLAIMER: All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB, or I guess UPN now. Except those who belong in Sesame Street.
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*Click*

“Welcome to Sesame Street. Today’s show is being brought to you by the letters X, S, E, and the numbers 9 and 6.”

“And now time for Counting with the Count.”

The Count spoke directly to his audience of five children, “Velcome to Counting vith the Count. Today ve vill be-”

“Gotcha!” A blonde figure shoved a stake right through the count’s heart.

Buffy Summers felt the pressure of lots of eyes on her. The little kids were stunned. “Oh shit,” Buffy clapped her hand over her mouth and dropped her gaze to the floor. The count was not getting up from that one.

“You hurt the Count!” One little boy pointed his finger at her.

“Is he dead?” A girl stood up and moved toward the Count.

“No! He’s . . . he’s . . . sleeping,” Buffy hastily sidestepped in front of them.

“But who will do the counting?” The first boy asked.

“We want to count today,” the girl agreed.

The other three children took up the cause.

“Yeah!”

“Counting!”

“We have to count!”

“I get it. I get it,” Buffy waved her hands, “I can take care of this. I - I have a replacement for the day. Give me a second.” She ran off and came back pushing a protesting figure in front of her.

“Slayer, you’re bruising the leather!”

“Kids, welcome back to Counting with Spike,” Buffy introduced.

“What?!” Spike saw the kids looking at him hopefully, “No way.” He tried to leave.

She grabbed his arm, “You can’t leave.”

“Oh, yes, I can.”

“No, you have to stay. I’ll do anything,” she begged.

That got his attention, “Anything?”

“Anything,” she confirmed without thinking.

“In that case, what do I do?”

“Just count with the kids,” Buffy instructed.

“What do I count?” Spike asked.

“Spike, count whatever your little unbeating heart desires,” Buffy made a quick retreat off.

“Well,” Spike addressed the expectant children, “Nice to see all of you kiddies. So we’ll be counting now, right? Let’s start with the number of boys the Slayer has shagged . . . “

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Willow and Tara wandered onto another set.

“Hello there, girls,” a voice greeted them.

“Hi,” Tara said to the yellow one that had spoke first.

The orange one waved, “I’m Ernie. That’s Bert. We’re best friends.”

“I’m Willow. This is Tara. We’re best friends, too,” Willow smiled at them.

“We live here together,” Bert explained.

“Tara and I live together, too,” Willow volunteered.

“Want to see our house?” Ernie asked.

“Sure,” Willow answered for Tara.

“This is our bedroom,” Bert proudly displayed the door to the room.

“We have a bedroom, too,” Willow mentioned perkily.

“Come with me,” Ernie led them to a new room, “This is our bathroom.” He picked something up. “This is my rubber ducky. He’s always here when Bert helps me take my bath.”

“We do that, too,” Willow burst out without thinking.

Bert and Ernie shared a look on that one. There was some uncomfortable silence.

“So,” Tara tried to fill in the empty air, “How long have you two been out?”

“Out of what?” Ernie wondered.

“Out of the closet,” Tara elaborated.

“We were never in the closet,” Ernie said.

“We have monsters in the closet,” Bert told them.

“Huh?” Willow was confused.

“Look,” Ernie went over and open the hall closet. Furry monsters began to pour out.

Honk! Honk!

“Honkers!” Ernie said gleefully.

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“Xander!” Anya called, “Xander, where are you?”

“What are you doing?” a friendly voice came from above her.

“Oh my God!” Anya backed away, “You’re a big bird.”

“That’s me,” the giant yellow bird agreed.

She picked up a broom to fend him off, “I know your kind. You eat human flesh!”

“No, I prefer birdseed,” Big Bird assured her.

“Well, that’s better,” she lowered the broom.

“Hi,” another large figure came by.

“You have a mammoth!” Anya swung the broom at them, “I must have fallen into a portal that took me to a different dimension where big birds and mammoths rule the earth.”

“What is she talking about?” Snuffleupagus asked.

“We’re not dangerous,” Big Bird told her.

“Are you sure?”

“Certainly.”

“Can you fly?” she inquired.

“No,” Big Bird said.

“What kind of stupid bird are you?”

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Elmo had just finished leading the children in the classroom through a rousing rendition of the S song.

Giles frowned, “That is possibly the worst piece of music I have ever head the displeasure of hearing in my life.”

“What do you mean, Mister?” Elmo’s hackles rose.

“Bother,” Giles tossed Elmo out the door, “Children, if you want to sing, you have to do it like this . . .”

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“How many cigarettes do I have in this pack?” Spike asked.

“Twenty!” the five kids shouted.

“I couldn’t hear you.”

“TWENTY!”

“Good, and if I give one to each of you, how many do I have left?”

Some quick counting went on, “Fifteen!”

“Bloody marvelous. Here, one for you, and you, and you, and you, and you,” Spike passed them out.

One kid eyed it doubtfully, “I thought smoking was bad.”

“My mom says it will make me sick,” a different kid said.

“Nonsense, I’ve been smoking for over a century, and I look fine,” Spike disagreed.

Buffy walked back in, “Show’s over, Spike. We‘re leaving.”

“Wait, I want my payment now.”

“Now?”

“Now, Slayer. You wouldn’t want to be a liar in front of all these kids, would you?” Spike said, all innocence.

She considered it, “What do you want?” She braced herself.

“A kiss.”

That made her relax some, “That’s it? A kiss? Are you sure that you-”

Spike pulled her to him and caught her in an openmouthed kiss. Buffy’s arms flailed wildly for a few seconds, but soon they were gripping Spike’s shoulders tightly. His fingers played with her blonde tresses as the kiss kept going. There was no space between their bodies, and their hands became increasingly restless.

It was Spike who eventually broke it off. Buffy hung dazed and limp in his embrace, “Time?”

“Thirty-seven seconds,” one child announced.

“Who was closest?” Spike asked.

“Me! I guessed thirty-five,” a little girl raised her hand.

“Good for you,” Spike threw her his pack of cigarettes, “They’re all yours.”

He swung Buffy up into his arms, “This concludes Counting with Spike. If I get lucky, next time I wll continue your education with the letters S, E, and X.”

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Xander sat down moodily on the stone stairs, “I hate my life.”

Something green popped out of a garbage can, “Me, too.”

“I can’t find any of my friends. Not Willow. Not Buffy. Not even my girlfriend, Anya,” Xander complained, not noticing the specifics of his new companion.

“I had a girlfriend once. She dumped me because I smelled like a dump,” Oscar the Grouch shared.

“One of mine dumped me because she was an energy-sucking mummy.”

Even Oscar was taken aback by that, “You’re right. I hate your life too.”

“This show sucks,” Xander leaned his head back.

“You’ve got that right,” Oscar agreed whole-heartedly. “Want a rotten banana?”

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*Click*

Dawn turned off the TV. She always missed the cool patrols!

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A. Lite - a_lite_2000@yahoo.com