Title: Boot Camp
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: This story has nothing to do with BtVS other than the wonderful W/T couple and the characters.
Pairing: W/T, F/B, and X/S
Disclaimers: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Joss Whedon, ME, Ellen DeGeneres (who may end up in my story), and anyone who plays/played or is.
Summary: Read It And Find Out!
Feedback: Yes Please!
E-mail: huntingwhitetiger@hotmail.com (feel free to email me at any time and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible!)
Chapter 1
~*The Rosenberg Household*~
Thoughts in italics
“Mom!” Willow yelled.
Willow Rosenberg was a young redhead with a stubborn attitude. Her rare characteristics of emerald green eyes and flowing red hair complemented her growing intelligence. The redhead had easily aced all of her classes during her senior school year. Well, all of them except one.
“My grades are fine!” Willow yelled to her mom through her bedroom door.
“Honey, you failed P.E,” Sheila said calmly. Sheila Rosenberg, the mother of the stubborn redhead, had a note of extreme calm that made her famous in her family line.
“But it’s P.E. Mom! I don’t need it.”
“Physical education is a well needed aspect of a high school students’ lifestyle. I know you don’t like sports but you need to have some physical activity in your lifestyle. Is there an after school sport that you can play, or maybe you can join a team at a stadium. You know? Like little league or something?”
“All the teams have been picked, tryouts are over, and there’s not a thing you can do about it.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say,” said Willows’ mother.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Willow asked as she opened up her bedroom door.
“I’ve signed you up for boot camp.”
“You did what?!?”
“I signed you up for boot camp.”
“Oh no, no, you have to be kidding me right? You can’t be sending me to boot camp…”
“Willow sweetie, it’s only for the summer, it isn’t too long…”
“But what about computer camp? I go every year! You CAN’T do this to me!”
“I’m sorry sweetie, but I have to, now go do you laundry.”
“But…”
“No buts,” said Sheila sternly. “Now go and do your laundry.”
“Oh and Willow…” Sheila said as her daughter started down the stairs.
“What?” came a fumed reply.
“Don’t forget to mark it on your calendar, it starts in a week.”
“A week?!? But mom!”
“Laundry,” was Willow’s final answer.
Willow knew there was no point in arguing with her mother. Willow Rosenberg was going to boot camp, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
~*The MaClay Household*~
“Hi Faith it’s Tara,” said a gentle voice into a cell phone.
Tara MaClay was an 18 year-old beautiful blue-eyed blonde who had just finished her senior year of high school. For the last six years Tara had been going to art camp that helped her excel in her one of her favorite hobbies and make it through the hard school years, but now she was ready for something new, and she had exactly the place to go.
“Hey hun,” came a friendly voice.
Faith Spencer, 19 year-old body building muscle, the brunette had been buff since the day she was born, or that’s what she said anyway, the slayer (yes there are still slayers) had dropped out after her first year of high school but had joined again after making sure that all of her classes were with a certain girl she had met at camp. Tara and Faith had been friends since second grade, but during sixth, Faith picked up the habit of calling Tara hun, which took the shy blonde a while to get used to.
“I….umm….you’re still going to boot camp this year right?” came a stuttered reply.
“Ya? Why?”
“I was thinking about going…”
“You WANT to go to boot camp?” Faith cut off Tara.
“I…uh…ya.”
“Hooray!” yelled Faith’s voice into the other line. “You’re finally gonna have some fun!”
“Isn’t boot camp supposed to be rough and hard working?”
“It is.”
“Than how am I going to have fun?”
“Just wait and see T.”
“What’s that supposed to mean”
“Just wait and see.”
And the phone clicked off.
Does this mean that we're going to get some hot'n'sweaty-type action? 
*scrolls down to double check rating* *pouts* PG-13? 
Oh well...maybe some cutesy puppy-love crushage then, with a side of googly-eyed stares? Or possible there could be hand-holding in between the spaces of their military issue cots? 
Mmmmmm cots...... 
I'll be checking back often (probably mostly at school while I'm waiting for my classes to start.)
