Willow

You take Warren's slender and barely noticable form as he slides through the crowd of a bar. You walk and see at the bar is Willow Rosenberg, fresh from a break up with Tara, drowning her sorrows in drinks. She knows your a villain; you don't car.

"Relationship trouble?" you ask behind her.

She's too depressed to even use a spell to get you to go away, so she just murmers: "Go away, Warren."

You sit next to her on the bar-stool. "Just trying to be a sympathetic ear, and a shoulder to lean on."

"Really?"

"Yes. Shoot. Tell me your problems."

"Tara.. My girlfriend and I broke up... She said I was using too much magic."

"And that's a problem?" you ask in disbelief. You tell her, with Warren's dominating and wicked voice: "Magic should be used at every turn to make life better and easier for the both of you, not just hidden away to fight demons."

"That's what I said..." she sighed.

"Let me buy you another drink. Looks like you need it," you say. She sighs, barely caring if you're there or not.

Five hours later you're both piss-drunk and stumbling down the street, as you promised to walk her home. Neither of you know where home is. "And she eats pussy soooo weak... Like she's afraid she might break something... I need a tongue going in there strong..."

"Forget the tongue. There's nothing stronger than a cock," you tell Willow, arm around her as you swagger down the side-walk.

"But girls are nicer..."

"Who wants nicer?"

"I do, I guess."

"You guess?" you snicker, getting into character. "Wouldn't it be fun to be the submissive one once and a while?"

"But Tara doesn't have it in her to be dominant."

"There's a quick solution to your problems..." you say. You whisper it into her ear.

She giggles. "You're silly... Why would I want to chuck a flan?"

"That's not what I said," you respond.

You're both hysterically drunk and laughing as you press her against the lamp-post. You look into her eyes. "What do you really want, Willow?"