With a Rebel Yell

Total Chapters:

Altered events of Season 2. Due to circumstances beyond her control, Buffy finds herself at an 80’s Flashback night club where she finds the Billy Idol impersonator a bit, uh, familiar.

Enjoying this story? Share your rating!
[Total: 0 Average: 0]

Chapter 1

Wow. An 80’s Flashback club. And not just a flashback club… an IMPERSONATOR Flashback Club. Could it get any lamer than that???? And she was here… why? Oh yeah, duh.

Buffy gave herself a mental V-8 slap of the forehead. It’s not like it was something so easy to forget, she thought with not a small bit of resentment. She was here because her dad had a hot new squeeze he wanted her to meet. Yeah, that was going to be fun. Not.

The New Squeeze turned out to have a daughter Buffy’s age, and in the lame way parents think, her dad and The Squeeze thought it would be oh so cool to take the offspring for a night out together. Clubbing. With her dad.

Buffy couldn’t help the robust eye roll at that thought.

Not that Blair had turned out to be that bad, Buffy had to admit. She was even kind of cool. In fact, if away from the watchful and hopeful eyes of their respective parental units, they might actually have fun. At least that was one thing going in her favor tonight.

Recently, her life had been chock full of major suckage, thanks to the stupid squid thing in the school basement turning everyone into zombie slaves and her mom’s robot boyfriend, Ted.

No, her life was on a one way ticket to major sucksville, and she couldn’t even assert her innocence in all of it. Sometimes, being a Superhero sucked.

So here she was, shipped off to her dad’s like some disobedient child, her mother fully at her wits end-whatever those were.

‘It just wasn’t fair’, Buffy pouted, crossing her arms across her chest, a portrait of teenage defiance.

It especially wasn’t fair because it was more than apparent that her visit was somewhat of an intrusion in her dad’s new found life. That fact was boldly obvious in the way her dad and Sherry were hanging all over each other, and Buffy couldn’t help the grimace that took over her carefully made up face.

A feminine laugh erupted next to her and Buffy turned to see Blair smiling in agreement, her head nodding with exaggeration.

Ok, so maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

But that was until they finally made their way down the two blocks they had been forced to park away from their destination, the weekend night providing a severe lack of parking opportunities. The club-in all its neon lit glory-loomed large and crowded in front of her, and suddenly her former doubts returned with huge smack to the head.

Already, Buffy could hear a live version rendition of A-Ha’s ‘Take on Me’ wafting out of the virtual revolving door as patrons entered and exited with abandon. Clubbing with her dad. Now there was something she didn’t think she’d ever be doing.

Once they had paid their cover charges and made their way inside, a profound sense of deja vu gripped Buffy as she spun around in a slow circle, her mouth agape as she took in the ambiance.

Mumbling about weird coincidences, she turned towards the stage and another stab of vu with a major dash of deja hit her.

“What did you say this place was called?” she asked Blair, her brain not having grasped that bit of information on the way in.

“I don’t think we did. Most people just call it that 80’s Flashback club, but I think the real name is Rebel Yell.”

Now that just sucked. She couldn’t even think of Billy Idol without thinking of the bleached blonde undead wannabe.

“Come on honey, let’s go get some drinks and find someplace to sit,” Hank suggested, not bothering to spare his daughter a second glance as he laced fingers with Sherry, and headed towards the bar. Buffy’s eyes followed them until they were swallowed by the masses.

Heaving a heavy, teenage sigh, Buffy’s head shook back and forth in a dejected manner as she prepared to follow her dad.

“They’re kind of lame, aren’t they?”

Buffy looked over at Blair, a spontaneous smile finding its way onto her face at her sudden co-conspirator. “Oh yeah.” Buffy’s hazel eyes widened in slight alarm. “Not that I think your mom is lame or anything.”

Blair laughed. “I don’t think your dad is lame either. They’re just… laaaaame,” she remarked, drawing out the last word with an exaggerated purse of her lips.

“And that is a major understatement,” Buffy agreed, finding her first impression of Blair now fully cemented. There had been an immediate sense of camaraderie, not something she would have expected after meeting under such retarded circumstances.

“Come on, we better go before the parental units have a major cow.” Blair tossed a conspiratorial grin in Buffy’s direction, and with a subtle flip of her long brown hair, turned and began walking in the direction she had last seen her mom.

Buffy’s mood lifted with the potential of a newfound partner in crime, and with a welcomed burst of enthusiasm, she followed Blair. Maybe-just maybe-something would go right for her. Just once would be nice, and Buffy found herself hoping for a non-mental drain of an evening.

Taking one more quick glance around the club on her way to the bar, Buffy decided that the place was actually kinda… neat. Not that she’d tell her dad that, of course. And any resemblance to the Bronze was purely coincidental, she firmly decided, coming up with the plausible excuse of generic building plans or something.

Then she felt the familiar zap crawl its way up the nape of her neck. So not what she needed, she pouted, taking a more encompassing perusal of the club on this pass, taking careful note of the people in it. Her careful eyes searched the shimmying throngs of dedicated dancers on the floor off to the side of the stage. She was proud of herself that she was still able to keep up with Blair, who seemed to be a master of slipping her way through the tightly packed club.

“There they are,” Blair announced, grabbing Buffy’s hand and pulling her over to the bar where her dad and Sherry had just turned away, hands laden with an array of liquid delight.

Buffy’s slayer sense kicked in stronger, and with a startled jerk, she realized that it was the bartender who was setting off her undead radar. Well, that wasn’t something Buffy saw everyday. A gainfully employed vampire. Didn’t matter much to her though, finding they dusted all the same, fat paycheck or not. Not wanting to give up what somewhat beginning to resemble a normal night out, Buffy decided to just keep watch on the undead bartender. Major scene of the dusting variety and her dad were NOT two things she wanted mixed together.

Watching the competent hands of the bartender, Buffy decided that the vamp had seen the movie ‘Cocktail’ WAY too many times. It was then she noticed the stellar lack of mirrors lining the walls, an oddity in itself in a dance club.

Twenty minutes later, Buffy found herself seated at a table smack dab in front of the stage. There was a lull in live entertainment, which Buffy was thankful for since Boy George-real or fake- didn’t do much for her. Recorded music filled the large club and she found her feet tapping away to the music of the Alarm.

Begrudgingly, Buffy had to admit she was having a good time. With a typical teenage reaction, she had been all prepared girl to not like Sherry the Squeeze at all, but was finding her… entertaining. And her dad? She hadn’t seen him this loose and un-uptighty in forever. That translated into no lectures for Buffy, something that was always of the good.

Alright, she may as well be full with the admitty here. Sherry and her daughter were cool. And the club thing? WAY cooler than it sounded.

To Buffy’s surprise, she found out it wasn’t the first time Sherry had been here, another bit of info that brought her down a few more notches off the pedestal of lameness.

“The girls from work and I come here a lot, actually,” Sherry had admitted, not caring that her dad was sitting right there. “WAIT until you see the Billy Idol guy, you’re going to die. He is soooo good. Better than the original, and I know, I’ve seen Billy Idol in concert a few times.”

“Oh yeah, he is HOT,” Blair jumped in and agreed. “My mom brought me here to see him on my sixteenth birthday.”

Buffy must have given something away on her face at the mention of Billy Idol because Blair scrunched her nose up and asked, “Ah, I take it you don’t like Billy Idol.”

“Huh? What? Oh, no, I like him. It’s one of those… icky memory by association type of things.”

“Gotcha,” Blair remarked, settling back in her chair. Buffy took the opportunity to look around and noticed that all the tables in front of the stage were now full, and standing room was becoming a serious issue. Testosterone was not something in great abundance amid this up front crowd, and Buffy had to roll her eyes at the sheer number of compacts that were being whipped out as their owners applied fresh lipstick and fluffed their hair.

Buffy had a sudden urge to grab her own mirror and check herself out, then once more gave herself a mental slap. Right. Like that was really necessary for some Billy Idol wannabe.

As if possessed, her own thoughts wandered to the ultimate Billy Idol wannabe, remembering the last time she had seen him after he had nearly killed Angel to save his psycho ho bag. He had swooped Psycho Bitch up and left town, and she hadn’t heard anything more about him. Buffy had been unable to give immediate chase due to the pressing need to evacuate the burning building, thanks to the fire the idiot had started.

Excited murmurs pulled Buffy’s attention back, and she sat up straighter in her seat. ‘They’re like a bunch of damn groupies,’ she groused, watching the throngs of women getting jacked up in anticipation, both young and old in the mix.

The lights suddenly dimmed, and more excited twitters sounded around her. Buffy went on immediate alert, the lack of visibility making her nervous. Just as she bent down to reach for the stake in her bag, the spotlights on the stage flashed on in a pulsating display and a low chat began throughout the club.

“Billy, Billy, Billy…”

Buffy’s eyebrows raised in an incredulous tribute to the lameness she was witnessing and she looked over towards Blair.

“I know, I know… But I’m serious, you have GOT to see this guy. Talk about major animal magnetism! You’ll be going home tonight thinking of him, I can assure you. He is HOT,” Blair gushed, her eyes brimming with barely contained excitement. She let loose with a loud whistle as band members began filing on the stage and taking their positions behind their instruments.

A rush of anticipation slammed through her and Buffy found herself grinning, especially after looking at her Dad and Sherry, who were getting into it like everyone else.

Her dad caught her eye. “What? Can’t the old man cut loose and have a little fun?” Hank complained good naturedly. “I like Billy Idol. I still have him on vinyl, you know.”

The chanting grew louder as the crowd began to get restless. ‘It has all the ambiance of a real rock concert,’ Buffy thought with amazement. ‘No wonder this place packed them in.’

The spider sense that had been playing with her ever since she stepped foot into the club suddenly jumped into high alert.

And Billy took the stage.

A/N: This story came about from reading 80’s Night by Vamptastica and my 6 yr old daughter making me listen to Billy Idol in the car over and over and over. I hadn’t planned on posting it, I just needed to get the plot bunny out of my head, so let me know if it’s something that should be continued.

Enjoying this story? Share your rating!
[Total: 0 Average: 0]