"Carpenter and the Wood"

It wasn't a nefarious booknapping plan. It was much more like a jellybelly-napping plan. Giles kept a stash in the middle drawer of his desk. With a handful of sugary goodness, I started heading out of the office, when what to my wandering eye should appear, but a book with pictures of naked dancing witches, open for all to see. Well, all who were snooping around Giles' office.

There wasn't even an intention to read, but the picture on the next page painted such an interesting image, who could resist? The witches were passing around a huge wooden dick, and there was a guy lying on the ground with a blissed out expression and a huge codpiece.

The spell was written in a funkier form of English, but I could make it out - 'torture of the unfaithful husband.' Apparently the expression wasn't so blissful. After sneaking the book home, I did all the reading twice and came to the conclusion that those women didn't have any concept about how to punish a man. It was one little spell, right?

So grabbing the only remotely penis-shaped piece of wood - not currently between my legs - I cast the spell on a 100% bona fide vampire dusting stake. Nothing. I rubbed, scratched and squeezed it, feeling absolutely nothing, until my mom burst through the bedroom door, making me juggle it like an idiot until I was sprawled on top of it on the floor. With my options then being burnt mac-n-cheese or Willow's house, I was on my way out the door.

The stake had been hastily stuffed in my back pocket, forgotten, as Willow and I cruised the Bronze with a Buffster wired on caffeine. As it was part of our normal evening ritual, off to the cemetery we then went. I was teasing Buffy when *hello, * Willow was grabbing my cock. Or rather, she'd pick-pocketed my ineffective stake and made it, well, effective.

Oh god, effective! She had her tiny little fingers wrapped tight around the base, which contrary to popular belief was doing nothing so slow the rise of my erection. Thank God for baggy pants! I kinda got used to it, and I kinda thought about asking for it back - not exactly nice having your best friend fondle you without knowing it, especially in front of your other best friend. But hey - *GUY*.

So I convinced myself that, since Willow would never know what that shaft of wood was really up to, I could enjoy this little secret on my own. That was until she started picking at her fingernails - or should I say, swirling ticklish little circles around the head of my cock, until I was dripping in my pants. Once again giving a big thank-you to God, I tripped over the tree stump and landed flat on my face. It made it much easier not to explain my expression when she dug her nail into the slit - or rather, a little crack in the wood.

I was right though. Those witches in the book had no idea how to punish a man, unless their ideas were about embarrassing the hell out of him in front of his best friends. I realized later that there was a certain irony about Willow being not only a witch, but also a lesbian.

Fortunately, we were then saved by vamps. Willow backed off near a tree, doing her best friend best to hold my cock with both hands, feeling like a quality jock strap. Meanwhile, I was being pummeled in a manly way. And then it happened. Graceful as ever, Buffy did some kind of double flip, kicking one of the vamps in the head. She called out to Willow, extending her staking hand, and I watched my suddenly free cock tumble into the hand of the Slayer, a girl who knew how to use it as a weapon.

The last thing I heard for a while was, 'Hello, Mr. Pointy,' and then I was doing some acrobatics of my own, astoundingly lacking in grace and direction - in other words, I looked like a complete dufus. However, my non-strategy completely flummoxed the vamp, allowing me to escape with my life. While I didn't really see Buffy's performance, as my eyes were rolling back in my head, I could recount the detailed choreography...

Squeeze - twist- slide forward - slide back - *SQUEEZE* - Oh god- swoosh - slam- tight ribs- unbeating heart contracting - oh, oh, oh - blow on the tip- eeeee- Please! - tossed into a vamp's back, sucking the life out of the head of my cock! - power kick - *SLAM* - ribs, Heart, HEAT, *EXPLOSION! **

...Messy pants. I claimed I fell in the little bird feeder next to the grave of Joe Varshotski, loving son and father. I vowed never to play with magic again.

For about five minutes.

The spell was copied over about a hundred times when I got home, just like a detention assignment, neat penmanship and all. I became the happy supplier of Buffy's Mr. Pointy of the week.

I often wondered if Giles would have been interested in documenting the fact that Slayers play with their stakes when they're bored in chemistry. Also, suck and nibble on the tip while doing their math homework - how can I express my joy when Buffy was forced to do extra credit work in that class.

But none of it topped the absolute best - just like I imagined. Faith handled me like a dominatrix, stroking me one minute and then tapping me with complete disregard against a brick wall. I was sensually rubbed against her skintight leather and then chewed hard. I nearly bucked a hole through my mattress the night she carved her initials. The little red 'F' that rose up on the base of my cock let me know to whom I belonged.

The actual sex was a bit of a let down, so I carved more wood for her and then I finally got my real wish - a nest of vamps and tag team slaying. Who said having your Mr. Pointy between two hot babes was just a fantasy?

***

Andrew was staring at me open-mouthed. God, I didn't know what else to say. I was really hoping that he would get the guy thing.

Suddenly, he smiled, "Cool! Two slayers, you're like a sex god."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"But, what does this have to do with cheating on Anya." I cringed. His eyes got wide. "You kept making the magic stakes even after you started dating Anya?"

"In all fairness, there was nothing particularly secure about life with Anya. At first. I stopped finally when Buffy died - But I would have stopped anyway because I had proposed to Anya that night." I hope I would have stopped? "So, that's why I want you to end this campaign. I feel completely guilty about all that, and I'm afraid that some of it will get out and sully her memory.

He tutted me. Andrew tutted me. "Xan-der." He was cajoling. Andrew was cajoling me. "Today, I secured legal and corporate sponsorship for the campaign to canonize Saint Anyanka."

"Okay, let's pretend that I don't know what any of that means." I hefted my hammer to added it to the growing pile of tools on the makeshift table of plywood and sawhorses.

"Wesley got me the interview with Lilah. He stayed with us like he promised, said it would be *enlightening* to see the look on her face. Anyway, she tried to blow me off but then she got interested when I told her about Anya's reputation for dealing justice for oppressed women and how she eventually took up the warrior's mantle to defend the earth against the gates of hell. That and that she was a former and sometimes vengeance demon."

I blinked and wished again that I still had my other eye so I could look at him more closely. "I know there are some grains of truth in there someplace, but isn't that a little-"

"Generalized and embellished?" Andrew hopped up and down excitedly and almost looked like he was gonna wet his pants. "Lilah loved my version, said I had a talent for marketing. She wants me to come back next week for an interview. She especially loved your part and thought that we should add you to the bid for sainthood.

"My part?" I had a part.

"The long time devoted fiance that saw the radiance of God shining upon the blessed Anyanka on their wedding day. So overwhelmed was he that he gave up his own happiness so that she might do God's work."

The little weasel had interviewed us for hours and that was the truth he came up with? A truth so incredibly false that it...painted me in a good light? "Andrew, you can't spread that around because a) not the truth, b) Anya would have kicked your ass for turning me into a hero.

"Xander, do you have any idea what kind of spin doctoring it takes to make a saint? This is really so minor compared to covering up massacres. Are you familiar with the confessions of St. Augustine? This really doesn't even hit the top 100."

"I'm a schmuck, Andrew. I prayed for nights when Buffy would be fighting vamps and Anya and I would be having sex at the same time. And I can't even begin to tell you what I was thinking when Buffy started sharing her stakes with Spike."

Did I say that out loud?

Andrew's eyes went glassy, maybe I was finally making my point. "Look, it was...a really bad thing I did, and I don't deserve to be the hero in Anya's life.

"Hey, you did the right thing when it counted. You gave up Mr. Pointy when you could have kept making them for Spike." I turned purple and my mouth tried to open in denial. Tried, really tried. Then Andrew gave me a girly pat on the shoulder. "Xander, that's what Saint Anyanka is all about. We're putting her up to be the Patron Saint of the Undeserving."

For the first time ever, Andrew looked...wise.

I even signed an affidavit about the miracles performed and gave him the last crumpled copy of the spell that had been folded in my wallet. I still wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, but if nothing else, it seemed to have a positive impact on Andrew. The boy got a job, albeit for evil lawyers, but evil lawyers trying to do good. He had a goal and did get Anya canonized in an offshoot of an orthodox church in a country that used to be Russian.

On the days that I was down, he'd come visit me at the Hyperion Academy for Brand-Spanking New Slayers, aka The House of Estrogen. He'd hand me a new hammer, tied up with a bow and encourage me to keep up with the carpentry work. Then he'd walk away, singing, as I nailed up more molding.

If I had a hammer,

I'd hammer in the morning,

I'd hammer in the evening,

All over this land...

~end~

*** An analysis of Mr. Pointy in Canon - Who is Mr. Pointy? ***

Our first introduction in canon was by Kendra in Becoming I. Mr. Pointy was a long, twisted stake with a narrow, sharp looking point, carved from a pale wood, resembling a tree root. More importantly, he was Kendra's favorite stake and a gift to Buffy for good luck in an upcoming battle with Angelus.

Buffy accepted the stake and joked about Kendra naming her weapons, but this was a sign of Buffy's earlier influence. Kendra was able begin experiencing her own emotions, allowing herself to have favorite things.

We see Buffy use the stake in a fight with Angelus and then it disappears (presumably in her coat), never to be seen again. In Becoming II Buffy uses normal stakes with Spike, a minion and hands one to Xander at the mansion.

There are references to Mr. Pointy in Helpless, Choices and The Freshman. In The Freshman, Buffy indicated that she used Mr. Pointy as a security blanket. It is possible, that Buffy retired the stake, keeping it in a special place to remember Kendra, but also to remember Kendra, she began referring to her own stakes as Mr. Pointy.

In the end, we don't know if the canonical references are referring to Kendra's stake or to stakes in general. We know that when a vampire is staked, the slayer is often able to pull the stake out to use another day; however, if the stake remains imbedded in the vamp, it often disintegrates. Mr. Pointy may have met his demises doing his duty, serving the slayer. As we will never know for sure, both interpretations of canon are possible.

*** A Writer's View of the Character - *My Mr. Pointy* ***