Summary: Sunnydale 1972: It's a slow night at a demon bar, until Anyanka meets a vampire who wants an unorthodox vengeance wish.
Word count: 587
Notes: Written for femslash_minis, for thewiggins, the pairing, pre-series, a silly vengeance wish, and a present. Title is from Dolly Parton's song 9 to 5.
Tuesday was Ladies’ Night at the Ruthless Worm. Sadly, it didn’t seem to be nearly as successful a promotion as Free Rat Appetizer Nights had been. There were only a handful of demons in the bar, most of them watching Hawaii Five-O on one of the televisions. A Fyarl demon and a couple of Chaos demons had given Anyanka a once-over, but none of them looked like interesting company. So she was sitting at the bar knocking back a few Meister Braus, and trying to score another vengeance wish from the only other woman in the bar: a blonde vampire in a kimono.
“C’mon, he left you multiple times! He chose a squalling infant over you because of his stupid soul. Can’t you wish for impalement, or something involving holy water?” Anyanka cajoled. Thanks to the fallout of a complicated love triangle that turned out to be a love quadrangle, and then a love pentagon, she was already well over her quota for the week. And she was way ahead of Hallie in the total body count competition. There was no harm in losing this wish by pushing too hard. She might as well press for maximum vengeance.
Darla shook her head. “I’ve thought about this a long time, and it has to be something small, something that eats away at his dignity. That’s the only thing he won’t perversely enjoy.”
Anyanka wasn’t used to wish-targets who understood the power of their wishes, but she liked the challenge of a vengeance wish with some constraints. She thought a moment, and the asked, “Have you thought about boils on his face? They’re painful and undignified.”
“Nah. He’s such a drama queen. He’d make any painful punishment all about his suffering on his noble quest for atonement.”
“What the hell,” Anyanka said. “Maybe D’Hoffryn will give points for originality on this one. And if anyone asks, you were all about forgiveness and I had to drag this wish out of you. Say it again.”
“I wish that Angel was an embarrassingly terrible dancer.” Darla adjusted her kimono slightly, revealing some rather impressive cleavage.
“Done,” Anyanka proclaimed. The change in reality rippled over her skin. It was a minor change, so she only got a small buzz from it. Oh, well. They couldn’t all be massive world-changing wishes.
Darla placed a box on the counter. “Here. Chocolate-covered Agami scales. For your troubles.”
“I can’t take bribes for vengeance.” Anyanka pushed the box back to her. “D’Hoffryn says that would degrade the purity of it.”
“Micromanaging bosses are the worst.” Darla sighed. “If I have to hear another word about the proper technique for collecting a tribute for The Master, I swear I’m going to tell him he can get his own damn dinner for once. Let’s call the chocolate a gift, then. From one underappreciated henchwoman to another.”
This was the nicest gift Anyanka had received since that time Hallie gave her pajamas made out of that classy new fabric, polyester. She beamed at Darla, looked out at the rest of the bar clientele one last time, and asked, “Would you like to come to my place and share them?”
She realized she’d left the important part out, so she added, “And have sex?”
Darla trailed her hand up Anyanka’s thigh, and grinned. “Guess this is the night when all of my wishes come true.”As they left the Ruthless Worm, the bartender sighed, and then muttered. “Well, that was a bust. Think I’ll make Tuesdays be Kitten Poker Tournament Nights.”