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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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."
He knows that she's teasing, but it doesn't stop him from feeling awkward about the words. The words get him in trouble, more often than he'd like to admit. They also save his neck just as often.
Xander slides his arm across his shoulders as they walk. He does need it, not that he'd ever admit to it, not that she would either. "I say we raid the food too. D'you think they installed security cameras since the last time we were there?"
The last thing they need is to wind up in jail for this. Xander wouldn't do well in jail. He's fragile.
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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 come with the training your ward's giving you or did you always know how to do that?"
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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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"Exactly!" she says, bouncing happily. "I mean, we could even just be friends that have sex a lot, and that doesn't have to be the end of the world! There are other arrangements aside from the monogamous relationship...thing."
There is nothing but past tense when talking about Michael. And really, he's the only boyfriend Phoebe ever had because she realized she and relationships do not get along.
"Details are totally not needed! Just know it was a disaster, sometimes a beautiful one, but mostly a disaster! And really, he couldn't always help the arson thing. He's an Afreet demon! Their power is fire."
Phoebe loves his Zeppo.
"That's a positive way to look at it," Phoebe says with a nod, disentangling herself from him only to bend down and pick at the lock.
She opens it with surprising ease. "Voila! And no security cameras since the last time we were here. Told ya. Now let's go see if we can get the nacho machine to work."
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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.
"Well. I'm sorry for the disaster-y part," Xander says. "But not at all sorry that it's over if it was so disaster-y. Great, demons with the fire. I'll... keep that in mind."
He reminds himself again that demons here are not like the ones from his world. The ones who try to make him fall in love with them and then try to kill him.
"There's very little that's more attractive than watching a woman pick a lock," Xander says and then follows after her, heading directly to the nacho machine. She wouldn't even have to mention it, and it'd still be his first stop. "You've got skills, Pheebs, but I knew that already."
Xander flicks on the switches for the lights and presses the on button for the nacho machine, watching as it lights up. "And in the way of food, Xander has the skills."
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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.
With a weak smile, Xander holds them up on either side of his face. "Your nachos are served," he says, sliding it down the lane for her to grab. "Hope their up to your standards, but I do make a pretty mean nacho basket if I say so myself."
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Everything is transitory. Even love. It changes throughout time and it ebbs and flows and it's never the same. Phoebe doesn't really buy the forever thing. She doesn't buy the happily ever after.
She's pretty optimistic, except when it comes to that.
Phoebe throws her head back and laughs at his cool maneuver, and bends over to catch the nachos when he slides them over. She picks them up, taking a bite off of one. She's still finishing munching on the chips when she reaches his side.
There's something about the way he was looking at her while she twirled around. It stays with her, and it has her placing them back down on the table and looking at him.
"I don't want them right now," she says quietly, hands curving around his neck. Her mouth stops a breath away from his and her eyes lock with his, as if searching. They don't close until the distance has also been closed and she's kissing him.
It's different than the first time. The first time she'd been caught off guard and it was sweet and quick. This time it's more deliberate, she's fully aware of what she's doing, slowly parting her lips to invite him in.
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He grins when she laughs so freely with her head thrown back. It's easy to be more optimistic when he's around her. She has a way of bouncing into your life and making it better, and she is unlike anyone else he's ever met. It's not all that surprising that he ended up having a thing for her.
Even when she bends down to pick up the nachows, he's checking out her ass. Sure, he is a Xander-shaped, fluffy friend, but he is also a dude and Phoebe is hot.
He freezes at the way she says that. The nachos drop from his hand to the floor beside him, and he slides his arms around her waist when she gets closer, pulling her tight against his chest.
It is different this time. There's a different intensity to the kiss. It's less scared and sudden, and it's more filled with wanting and desire. Xander slides his hands up her back and deepens the kiss. It has been a long, long time, but this feels really good. He's not even worried about how good he is at it. There's only that fire and need and pushing.
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Phoebe makes a little noise of surprise, and then her eyes are fluttering closed. She leads Xander to the nearest chair and climbs on his lap.
She'd like the last kiss, sure, but it'd been too quick and filled with surprise to really take in.
This is a long, slow kiss that has her toes curling into themselves.
It's leaving her a little bit dazed, and she has a hard time remembering where they are in the first place.
Phoebe is going to...pounce on you now, Xander.
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Holy shit.
There isn't much room for thinking. There's want and desire and touching, kissing. There's really only Phoebe here, and God.
Nothing has been more intense than this. She's going to pounce on him, and he's going to pounce right back. His hands are in her hair and traveling down, reaching for her clothes to strip them away.
He is completely unaware of where they are, but this bowling alley is about to lose its virginity.
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Phoebe's greedy and that extends to every inch of her body. Hands tug at his shirt until it comes off, fingers spear into his hair to keep him close, mouth leaves a soft, icy trail down his neck until she finds his own mouth.
The rest is silence and exploration and the meeting of her body with his. It's amazing, far more amazing than she ever remembers sex being, but there's also trust.
She knows she's placing herself in good hands.
Xander will be good to her, and that's more than Phoebe can ask for.
Basically, Chicago, the bowling alley's cherry was popped by Phoebe Donovan and Xander Harris.
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