A Call From God
by Salamander
Satan was bored. Extremely bored. Sunnydale had earned the name Sunnyhell. There was nothing to do, and Buffy and her buds were always out. Satan knew that there had to be others like her. But where would she find them? The only club she could go to was the Bronze, and that was way to fluffy for her tastes.
Four days after she had arrived, Satan had found her safe haven on the couch in front of the television. She would watch Monty Python movies, Red Dwarf videos, and several depressing movies. Repeatedly. Satan was completely burned out on videos. Buffy and the rest of the gang found her watching Pink Flyd's "The Wall." They couldn't help but marvel over the vulnerable, relaxed state they found her in. Or so they thought.
Satan sighed. "Hello. Welcome to my palace."
She had noticed them. Hm. Maybe she had sensitive senses due to her being a demon. . . .
Buffy sat down next to the enthralled Satan as close as she braved. "We'd like you to meet someone."
Satan paused the video and turned to her, much to everyone's surprise. "Yeah?"
Buffy nodded. "Satan, this is Oz." She pointed to her side where he was standing. "Oz, this is Satan."
Satan held out her hand for him to shake. Oz took it. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Same here. Especially 'cause you look somewhat normal. What d'you know. This town actually does turn out some snappin' ones." She turned around and unpaused the movie.
Willow blinked. "'Snappin''?"
Satan sighed. "Yeah. It kinda means cool. It kinda doesn't. It's just a state of being."
"Oh."
Oz nodded. He liked Satan. "Cool."
The others, save Satan, looked at him in shock. He just shrugged at them.
The telephone rang and Buffy, who was the closest to it, answered. "Hello." She blinked a few times in confusion and then sputtered out, "Yeah . . . yeah . . . she's . . . uhhh . . . here." She shook Satan a bit, using only two fingers. "It's for you. It . . . she says you're her best friend."
Satan perked up fully. She put the movie on pause again and took the phone from Buffy. "'Sup, God?"
"Just trippin' on my own self-worth."
"That low, eh?"
"No. Not really. It just sounded cool."
"Hm. It would sound good in a poem."
"Yeah. Might as well. There's nothing else to do. I'm bored out of my mind. How are you doing?"
"Same as you but worse."
There was silence on the other end for a moment. "That bad?"
"I've been watching videos for the past day and a half. I never thought I'd ever say this, but I'm getting tired of Red Dwarf."
"Say it ain't so, Satan. Say it ain't so."
"It is. I'm watching "The Wall" now."
"'We don't need no education!'"
Satan snorted. "You could definitely say that again."
"Back to your problem, though. I'm assuming you haven't found anybody like yourself, correct?"
Satan laughed a little and shook her head. "I wouldn't even know where to look. The only club around here I can get into is . . . uhhh . . . the words stylish and popular come to mind."
"OUCH! Don't say stuff like that! They hurt, especially together."
"Sorry. I had to put it to you straight, though."
"Jesus. When I set you on the train, I set you off to hell. Not the cool type you go to when you die, but the horrible kind that's on earth."
"It's not your fault. You didn't know."
"When all else fails, find goths."
"I know. But where would I find some?"
"You know what we say. End the saying if you can. 'In any town with over a thousand people . . . '"
Satan finished it. "' . . . there is a goth scene.' I know. But that still doesn't tell me where to find one."
God thought for a minute. "Hm. You know quite a few goths. You know how some of them think. You be the goth. Where would they be, Satan? Where?"
Satan nodded. "Hmmm . . . Yeah. Thanks, man! I'll be the goth."
"That's right! Be the goth, Satan."
"Yeah! I'll be the goth!"
"Good. Now, I should be going. I quit my job and don't have the funds to keep talking to you on long distance for too long. Plus, I have a date with Peanut."
"Where you two going?"
"Forest Lawn."
Satan snorted. "Nothing says 'I love you' like a cemetary."
"You're just jealous 'cause I snagged a good goth."
"Yeah, well, you know all about my goth and vampire fetish."
"You're just so bad."
"I know. I'll leave you trippin' over Peanut and that self-worth crap."
"Thanks, man. Bye."
"Bye." Satan gave the phone to Buffy to hang up. She knew that they had been listening to her side of the conversation, but she didn't care.
"So," Buffy started, "you're best friend's name is God?"
"Yeah."
Oz nodded. "That's appropriate."
"Yeah. You guys know about the goth scene?"
Xander snorted. "Of Sunnydale?"
Satan turned to him. "No. In your boxers." Everybody was silent. Satan sighed. "You guys wouldn't know anyway. I'll find some myself."
Satan went over to the vcr and took out her video. She turned the vcr and television off. She left the room, went up the stairs, and was gone for several minutes. When she came back down, she was carrying her backpack. "I'm off in search of goths. See ya when I see ya!" With that called behind her, she was out the door.
Xander nodded. "She's a demon. I mean, the kid's got a vampire fetish!"
"That 'kid' is our age." Willow reminded him.
Oz shook his head. "She's fine."
Xander blinked and shook his head incredulously. "What?? She is so not fine! She's a demon!"
Oz shook his head again. "No. She's just eccentric."
"But . . . but . . . she's evil!"
"That's exactly the reason why she doesn't like you or Buffy."
Buffy looked at him. "She doesn't like me?"
Xander raised an eyebrow. "It's 'cause she's evil?"
Oz frowned. "She doesn't like you guys because you already have assumed so many things about her. Besides, you guys haven't even invited her to do anything with us. You haven't been the most social people when it comes to Satan."
Everybody was silent, thinking. Then, Willow looked up from her concentration. "She likes me?"
Oz shrugged. "There seems to be no hostility towards you. Just Buffy and Xander."
Xander shook his head. "Just great. Buffy's demonic cousin hates me."
Oz kept quiet. He wasn't going to argue with somebody as stubborn as Xander. Oz's train of thought went something along the lines of: If Xander is too pig-headed to open his eyes, he almost deserves everything Satan can, and will, dish out. Although, Xander might never be the same in the long-run.
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