The Infomercial
By Carole
Disclaimer : They aren't mine. Edward and Anita belong to L. K. Hamilton. Methos belongs to R:P/D. I'm just borrowing. I promise to return them in the morning.
Edward flipped on the television in Anita's apartment. Who knew when she would be back from 'work' and he wasn't going to spend the entire time staring at her collection of pet penguins. She owed him and he was here to collect. An unidentified monster had managed to take out half of a small town about three hours away and he wanted to take it down. But, not by himself. Killer he may be, stupid he was not.
He stared blankly at the screen as it extolled the virtues of the latest something or other. *Buy now, get a 10% discount. It's the greatest invention since sliced bread.* Another man might have smiled at his own inner commentary. Some also might have even fallen under the hypnotic spell of late night telemarketing and been mysteriously drawn to the advertised item, despite the fact that they knew it would never be used and how many juice makers, and miracle cleaners did they really need. Edward was not most men and almost, one could say, unnaturally immune to such ploys, but a sentence finally caught his attention.
"He slices. He dices. He's good with guns and great in bed."
Edward's eyes widened slightly, in a way that would have been unnoticeable to anyone else. What the hell were they selling?!?
He watched as the screen displayed several pictures of delicious looking young man. "The perfect companion for the assassin extraordinaire." Vaguely he wondered what the author was taking to come up with such an 'interesting' way of throwing hints in his direction.
"He can cook. He can clean. He can hack into the NSA database, but he doesn't do windows, at least without extra persuasion." The telemarketer winked knowingly.
Edward wasn't a weak-willed person and he knew it, but the offer was intriguing. The thought of having his own, permanent back-up without having to wait for hours in a room full of penguins had its appeal. After all, it wasn't like he would be buying a useless kitchen appliance.
"Order your own Methos today. It's easy. Simply contact your local author and tell her you want a crossover."
Edward considered momentarily. He knew that Carole had a weakness for crossovers. He'd never done one before, but he was versatile. If he gave her a plot, she would owe him. That could definately have its advantages and Carole could never resist the combination of blood, sex and, well, 'Death'. 'Forget Anita', he thought, and dialed.
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