It was looking to be a slow evening. Parker had arranged to spend some quality time with the new blonde, Kate, but her parents were visiting unexpectedly. No big deal. He'd called up Andrea, the redhead from Biology, but she was cramming for a test and too busy to go out. Finally he'd stopped by tall, leggy Camille's dorm room. But-- strike three-- she was at a late class.

Camille's roommate Sylvia had been in, though, and Parker had considered asking her to go for coffee. But Sylvia had short hair and was always reading thick books on gender studies, which meant she was probably some kind of feminist and not likely to appreciate the attention.

At that point in the evening, Parker could've gone back to his own dorm room. There was always studying to be done, and it was growing late. But instead, Parker chose to seize the day, and set off for the coffee shop to check out the pickings there.

It was really more like seizing the evening, at this point. But it was a nice night. The students that were out seemed to be enjoying the gentle twilight. Just then, Parker spotted Buffy Summers, ahead of him on the path. He froze in his tracks, and watched as slowly, she walked right past him, seemingly lost in thought.

Parker watched her go with relief. He'd already had his recommended amount of blonde and weepy for the day. Buffy had been fun and all, but he'd never even hinted that he thought of her in a girlfriend way. If she'd misunderstood, that was hardly Parker's fault.

He walked on, through the darkening twilight. Really, Parker thought, he was the one who'd been put upon. After all, he'd tried to be all sensitive during Buffy's little melodramatic scene that afternoon, pathetic as it had been. He totally didn't deserve some guilt trip from Buffy. It was just like a girl, after all-- Buffy was having guilt, like having sex made her bad or something. She obviously had some issues, and she couldn't deal with the fact that they were hers-- so she tried to make it all his fault. Typical.

Resenting Buffy and her issues, Parker walked on. Soon, a pretty brunette moved into his line of sight. She was petite with dark, slightly haunted eyes and a sharp-looking face. She moved slowly, as if stunned by some emotional trauma. Parker smiled slightly. He'd been a professional girl-hunter a long time, and he was good at reading the signs. This girl was seriously on the rebound.

All around the campus, the overhead florescent lamps were coming on, one by one. Parker tracked the brunette through the twilight for a while, but she didn't seem to be going anywhere in particular. After a few minutes, Parker made his move. Walking faster, he drew close to his prey.

She glanced at him warily, and he flashed her a shy smile. "Hey-- are you lost?" Parker had always had charm. But like any other gift, the charm had to be used, and often-- turned from a raw ability into a practiced skill. "I mean, hi, I'm Parker Abrams." He laughed a little self-deprecatingly, and stopped walking. She stopped too, and Parker knew she was hooked. "Are you looking for something?"

"No." The brunette raised her chin, matching Parker's gaze. Something about her eyes, sharp and dark, startled him into silence. "Wait. Maybe I am." she announced, moving closer. "I'm Anya, and you look a lot like someone I need to get over."

Parker gave himself bonus points for pin-pointing the rebound, and gave Anya a sympathetic look. "That's rough... I--"

"I think my theory was sound," Anya interrupted. "I was just fornicating with the wrong person. To get over Xander, I should have had sex with someone else." She stepped back a little, looking Parker up and down. "You're an acceptable specimen. Take off your shirt."

"What?" said Parker. He gaped as Anya wrapped a fist in his sweater and stalked off the path, half-dragging him into a small out-of-the-way spot, surrounded by tall leafy bushes. "Wait a minute," he protested as Anya kicked her sandals off. "Here?"

"Yes. Now. I want this over with." Anya declared. She delved in the pocket of her jeans, and pulled out a shiny square. "I have condoms."

When it was over, Parker rolled off and lay on his back in the grass, panting slightly. Anya lay beside him, her mouth slack, lips glistening slightly.

After a moment, she pursed her mouth, regaining her businesslike manner. Propping herself up on one elbow, she looked across at Parker. "We have a relationship now, right?"

"We have a what?"

"A relationship." Anya said matter-of-factly. "Or the basis of one. We don't have to be exclusive-- well, not immediately. But I think a regular Friday night date would--"

"Wait a minute. Just wait a minute!" Parker cut her off, sitting up and stretching across to grab his sweater. "Is every girl on this campus nuts?" he exclaimed, pulling it over his head defensively. "I mean, come on. I never said anything about a commitment, and neither did you!"

"But you--" Anya stared at him. "But we-- How else am I supposed to get over--"

Parker was repulsed. Another goddamn guilt trip! Was it fair for some chick to practically tear his clothes off, then use him as an emotional dumping ground when it was over? Hell no!

"No, we don't have a relationship!" Parker shouted. Standing, he zipped his pants. "I have no interest in being in a relationship right now. Especially not with you! Don't take this the wrong way or anything, it could be just me," he said, leaning forward into her face, "but personally? I find you more than a little weird."

Anya stared after the retreating male, her ire rising. How dare he. How dare he! Xander been rude and thoughtless, but that was almost standard for human males. This Parker, though-- this Parker had been mean.

In the old days, a human family would have lynched any worthless dog that dared treat their daughter so cruelly. But... Anya wasn't really human, and she didn't have a family. Or any friends. She was totally alone, with no resources to fall back on. No one to help her avenge this horrible insult.

I could use a patron saint of scorned women right about now, Anya thought to herself, then opened her eyes wide. "Hey."

Parker jogged through the now dark and abandoned back side of campus, wanting to put as much distance between the frigging crazy slut and himself as possible. He glanced back quickly, to make sure she wasn't following him or some weird shit like that, and in the split second when he wasn't looking, he collided hard with a shape on the path. They both went sprawling.

"My god, what is your problem?!" the girl cried. "Can't you watch where you're going? Get off me!"

"Sorry!" Parker stammered. Even in the pale moonlight, he could see that the girl he'd knocked over was a knockout. She was tall, had lush blonde curly hair, and wore a shiny pink top that accentuated her lush, creamy cleavage.

Standing, he offered her a hand. "I'm so sorry," he said, and offered her a slightly out-of-breath version of his charming smile. "Really I am." He stopped momentarily. Every girl he'd macked on in the past twenty-four hours had turned out to be more or less of a basket case, but what the hell. Seize the day had always worked in the past, and the third time was likely to be the charm. He made his decision. "I don't know how I could have missed seeing you." he said, lowering his voice, locking eyes with the blonde. He paused, for just the right amount of time. "I'm Parker."

"Whatever." The girl sniffed, the corners of her mouth turning down in a petulant frown. She brushed ineffectually at some spots of dirt on her pants. "I'm Harmony."

"Harmony, wow. That's a really pretty name." Parker said.

Harmony glanced up at him, startled, then smiled. "You really think so?"

"Yeah," Parker said. Chalk another one up to the charm, he thought. "Look, I'm heading over to the coffee shop. You thirsty?"

"Actually I am, a little," Harmony said sweetly.

"Well, great." said Parker, turning slightly to lead the way. He heard a faint giggle, and glanced back. "Oh, holy shit!"

Game face on, Harmony lunged.

Sitting down, her head propped in her hand, Anya considered Parker's proper punishment. It was a matter of professional pride, now. No one got away with scorning the former patroness of scorned women! This would be the worst, most revolting, most utterly humiliating and hellish punishment ever. She'd think of it, and then she'd wish it, and if there was justice in the universe-- then someone, somewhere would hear her.

Anya tapped her fingernails unconsciously as she thought, drawing on the expert suggestions of hundreds of years of inventive, cunning, wonderfully creative female minds.

Finally, Anya made a wish.

It would take time. It would not be quick. Bits would swell up and become inflamed with pus. Other bits would wither and fall off. Each personal and professional dream of Parker's would be shattered. Each of his worst, most secret nightmares would come true. The world would see Parker Abrams' true self, and scorn him.

"That's my wish. So let it be done!" Anya finished, and smiled. Maybe no one had heard her. Maybe someone had. Oddly enough, it didn't really matter.

For some reason, she felt better anyway.

[end]