Anya and the Secretary
Title: Anya and the Secretary (1/2)
Author: renelf (Skip)
Rating: R for mentions of sadomasochism.
Summary: A newly re-demoned Anya is summoned to avenge a secretary. Cross over with Secretary.
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse remains property of the extraordinary Joss Whedon. Secretary came to being in the brilliantly sick minds of Mary Gaitskill, Erin Cressida Willson and Steven Shainberg.
“Anyanka!” The disembodied voice rang out and echoed around the empty Bronze.
“Great,” muttered the newly re-employed vengeance demon before standing and straightening her skirt.
D’Hoffryn appeared on the stage in a pillar of fire.
Always so dramatic, thought Anya. She smiled at her boss but inside she was cringing. She’d been working again for less than a week and already she’d managed to botch two jobs and piss off her former friend the Slayer. But she had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t what D’Hoffryn was here about.
“Anyanka,” D’Hoffryn said again, attempting to look more friendly by smiling but achieving only a baring of teeth. “There’s been a complaint.”
“A complaint?” asked Anya, trying to appear surprised.
The horned demon pulled a notebook out of his robes. He flicked through a number of pages before finding what he was after. “A Miss Smith. She claims you failed to exact appropriate vengeance from her boss.”
“What was the job?” asked Anya innocently. “I can’t quite remember the details.”
Turning over a couple more pages of the notebook D’Hoffryn read: “Miss Smith summoned you to avenge her on her boss, one E. Edward Grey. She claims that he sexually harassed her.”
Anya sighed. “Sexual harassment isn’t really my area. She wasn’t scorned. I didn’t feel that it was my responsibility.”
Rubbing his high forehead in frustration. “Normally, I would agree. However, Miss Smith did not simply utter the ‘W’ word, she actually went to the trouble of performing the ceremony in order to summon you. It’s one of the reasons I rehired you.”
“Fine,” said Anya. “I’ll go and see her again and see if there’s anything I can do.”
D’Hoffryn smiled and disappeared in a flash of light.
Sighing again, Anya teleported to the small town where Miss Smith lived. Putting on her demon face, she knocked at the ex-secretary’s door. “Anyanka!” exclaimed Miss Smith, a frumpy little woman in her early thirties, obviously pleased to see her guest. “You’ve come to do something about Mr Grey.” It was a statement, not a question. Under all that dowd, Miss Smith had a heart of steel.
Anya nodded and followed Miss Smith into the living room where she sat on an ugly couch as the other woman ran to fetch some tea. “Now,” began the demon, taking a sip of her tea and grimacing (Irish Breakfast, ugh), “tell me exactly what happened.”
Miss Smith launched into the story of how she had come to work for Mr Grey, a lawyer. She didn’t mind his strange ways at first but one evening she had asked him if he would care to go for a drink with her, they’d been working together for a week and she thought it would be nice if they got to know each other a little better.
“You had a crush on him,” interrupted Anya, taking notes.
Miss Smith blushed. “Maybe a little one.” She continued the tale. Mr Grey had declined her offer, instead asking her how she felt about being spanked. “Well, I was shocked, let me tell you!” exclaimed the secretary at this point in the story.
“How did you react?” asked Anya with the greatest interest. Maybe there was more to this job than she’d first realised.
“I slapped him of course,” replied Miss Smith, almost in tears.
“And he fired you?” inquired Anya, scribbling furiously in her notebook.
“No. That’s the strangest thing.” Miss Smith shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It seemed to…to…”
“Excite him?” asked Anya, intrigued. Teary eyed, Miss Smith nodded. “So,” said Anya in her most concerned voice, “what do you think he deserves?”
“Someone to see him for the pervert he is,” replied Miss Smith firmly.
Anyanka smiled. “Done.”