Unlike Monday night, Xander wasn't drinking to see how drunk he could get. (Or
counting nipples.) He was just sitting in his living room, the tv turned down low, a tumbler of non-black, non-evil somethingorother in his hand, thinking about...
well,
Things.
Also, wondering if he should call
back, now that a check of his phone revealed he hadn't dreamed this morning's weird wake-up call, or... think about Things some more.
__
[OOC: For, er, Things.]