I can't let myself regret such selfishness.
Danny Smalls wrote an entry to people he knows. He said he was leaving, and he is. He's walking out the front doors of the Kashtta without anything but the wallet in his pocket. There's something to be said about having nothing, no possessions, no anything. It's freeing, isn't it? Nothing tying him down. Nothing to care about. He's not planning on
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How does one go from sitting at your hospital bed to just leaving and asking why not?
She hates him. Maybe it's true, maybe it's not, but in that very moment, she hates him and wants him gone. Phoebe doesn't want to be anywhere near the Kashtta tonight.
She opens her door and storms out of her room.
Where she's going is anybody's guess. She doesn't get very far, since she'll be colliding with Xander on the way over. "Oomph."
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"Hey, just the girl I wanted to see..."
He is still in shock from future-talking to the point that it's easy to pretend like nothing's changed.
"You going somewhere, Pheebs?"
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"Hey," she says, pasting a bright smile on her face. This is far easier than it should be. Smiling when you want to break something.
"Yeah, I'm kind of sick of staying cooped up in the Kashtta and was gonna...I dunno, do something. Wanna come along?" she asks, putting on her jacket while she's at it.
"We could break into a bowling alley again." That was fun.
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There's some weirdness here that he's sensing even with the bright smile. It comes with being the guy that sees everything, but he knows that Phoebe isn't the type to want to deal with that stuff.
She never makes him deal with anything.
He smiles at her when she asks if he wants to come along.
"Hell yeah, lets get outta ghost-ville for awhile. Could kinda use an out myself," Xander admits and then grins at the thought of the bowling alley. It's one of those good memories that he has of this city. "Yeah, we could. That was kinda like our first unofficial date. Or something. Awkward wording is a go."
He reaches for her arm. "C'mon."
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And well, her conversation with Jack after she found out he was a war criminal but that was the most painful conversation she's ever had and it got them nowhere.
At his admission, Phoebe looks up at him, studying him with a rare, thoughtful little expression on her face. It breaks into a grin immediately after.
"Why's it awkward? Because it's making you uncomfortable? Blush-y? Because you didn't mean to say it?"
She's teasing, and when he reaches for her arm she loops it around his waist as they walk, giving him a one-arm hug. He looks like he might need it, and so does she.
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There is nothing good about that sentence.
Her grin makes him smile back at her. It is way too easy to act like he didn't have his possible future handed to him on a very painful platter.
"Pheebs, I don't get blush-y. Ever. I'm the non-blushing sort. The manly man kind of dude here," Xander says, no, insists. "I meant to say it. I just didn't know if you would agree with the what that I said. I didn't want to get all label-y on you ( ... )
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Phoebe nods solemnly at his insistence. He is a very manly man, it's true. "Even manly men get to blush sometimes, Xander. It doesn't happen often, but it does."
She'd insist she's not the blush-y type, either. Except where she totally is, and bright red dusts across her cheeks to connect to the tip of her nose when she answers him. "I would agree with it. I mean, yeah. Lots of it has been unofficial and I don't think that means you're labeling anything."
It's not the labels that matter anyway. Phoebe squeezes him at the waist once more, falling into step beside him as they leave the Kashtta.
Already she can breathe easier.
"Pshaw, doubtful. It's way too old and doesn't get a whole lot of customers these days. I'll be sad if it closes because it's sort of become a ritual." Phoebe tilts her head to the side, considering this.
"If there are security cameras, I can take care of 'em. Just trust me, I've got it covered!"
The worrisome thing is, Phoebe probably could.
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Yeah, the story of his potential future? It's temporarily forgotten in the buzzy, happy feeling that replaces the shock and weight.
"Yeah, that's cool," he says as the small smile on his face that pulls into a wide grin. "I guess calling it unofficial means 'no label' anyway, right?"
It's much easier when there aren't labels right now, considering he has girlfriend from the future and girl that he's in love with from the future.
Yes, there's something that's less stifling about the air once it's not in that creepy place, holding secrets from the future and losses from the present. They can all be left behind in that dark tower.
He blinks in surprise.
"...I trust you, Pheebs. Completely," Xander says. "But it's the curiosity that's making me ask, not the lack of trusting. Did disabling security cameras ( ... )
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Or, she will be once they reach the bowling alley.
It's not very far!
"Exactly! We don't need labels. We can just be who we are without worrying about anything else, and that's good." She looks up at him, and risks placing a kiss on his cheek as if ti emphasize this.
"Uh."
That's a tricky question. "I may have had a boyfriend once that was an arsonist?" Phoebe bites her lip. "It was way back in the day and I'm not proud of a lot of that but that...taught me a thing or two. Not that I use it! I don't, promise."
She clears her throat awkwardly, reaching for her hair pin. She'll use it to get them into the bowling alley.
... Phoebe is not a thief, Xander. The narration promises.
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It's one thing to be all free about it right now, but another to try to not get jealous in the face of... some guy making the moves on her.
He smiles at the kiss on his cheek, pulling her in closer while they walk. Yeah, he's feeling good.
And then she mentions an old boyfriend. Had, Xander. There is a had there.
"Uh-huh," Xander says and then smirks. "...wait, an arsonist? I don't-- I don't think details are needed."
Arsonists and vampires. Really, his competition is something else, and he's Xander. Zeppo.
"Hey, if there's security cameras, feel free to use it. To save your own neck. Then even though the relationship went to hell..." He's assuming. "It can be like you got something really good out of it."
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"...friends that have sex a lot."
Xander is going to need a moment to process this, and then another moment to process that it's a girl suggesting this to him. It's not one of those conversations that happen around the locker room at gym.
Ah, gym.
"Phoebe, I think I love you."
He's said it before, and he's being more funny about it this time, because he definitely loves her for more than what shes just said. He's smirking and shaking his head in disbelief still ( ... )
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She and Xander are friends that love each other!
There's attraction. If there's sex, it doesn't have to complicate anything!
"Xander, there's no other way it should be."
She grins back at him, bumping his hip lightly with hers. "Eh, that's what relationships are all about. Falling in love, falling apart, that's how the cookie crumbles."
Michael is actually not the scary demon he'll sometimes project himself to be. Then again, Phoebe's not supposed to let anyone else in on that. Besides, he's long gone and Xander won't ever get to meet him. Mwahaha?
"Oh, man! Make sure mine have extra cheese, please. With some jalapenos."
Then she's taking off her shoes and running toward the bowling lane. She skids to a halt and lets herself slide on over. There's a lot of twirling involved.
She's almost pretending she's figure skating.
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It's kinda felt like his mojo has been on the fritz ever since.
"Yeah, the cookies always crumble, don't they? Or they stick around so long that they get stale instead."
He is not a big believer in long term love. Most of the adults that he's run into have been divorced. It seems that way. Love is definitely not like it's portrayed in the movies, even the badass, action flicks get it wrong.
Xander gathers together the nachos. Extra cheese, jalapenos for them both. He does a very cool slide over the top of the counter without falling on his ass.
She looks good, the way that she's twirling around. His gaze is drawn to the rest of her body, and he's staring at her ( ... )
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