Fic: Teenage Dirtbag - 14/? - NC-17
Title: Teenage Dirtbag
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Season 1, so contains young Xander. Some parts may contain mature themes, violence, and graphic sex. You have been warned! Also, this fic is likely to be very long and will be updated whenever the muse feels like it.
Summary: Teenage life on a Hellmouth. Xander doesn't feel too well.
Beta'd by kitty_poker1
Written for my darling amejisuto
Previous parts are HERE
It was a warm day. The sun was shining and the sky was a brilliant blue with just one white cloud floating away in the distance. It was a day that smelled like summer, the same way that a chill sometimes smelled like Christmas and the rain sometimes smelled like Monday mornings.
It was a day that insisted on being enjoyed from outside. So it was a real pity that most of it was going to be un-enjoyed from a classroom.
Still, it wasn’t all bad. It was lunchtime and Xander was catching rays from one of the outside lunch tables. And there was always after school to think about. And certain vampires to not think about. Much gladness.
Explaining the lack of robed, demon goddess-worshipping vamps down at the docks was certainly something Xander was glad he didn’t have to do. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t there, didn’t see anything and nobody could prove otherwise. Just let them try.
It was the perfect crime. Apart from the fact that no crime had been committed. He was pretty sure that dusting vamps was not against the law. Not yet, anyway. He just hoped there didn’t come a time when the world knew enough about the undead to provide statutes to protect them.
Now there was a strange thought.
Maybe one day there would be a special vampire court and a vampire rehabilitation unit.
Maybe there would be protesters lobbying to ban death row for zombies under the Undead Rights Act. And if they couldn’t achieve that they would claim that removal of the brain was barbaric and, at the very least, they should be allowed death by lethal injection of a nano-virus that sent a billion little ‘bots straight to zap an artery in the brain. Auw, little ‘bots. Cute.
Xander laughed and nearly choked on his sandwich.
Willow looked up from her burger and regarded Xander with amusement. “That’s some funny sandwich. Is there pickle in it? Pickle always makes you laugh.”
“No,” Xander chuckled after he finally managed to swallow his half-masticated food with one big gulp. “It’s just…could you imagine…? Never mind. Brains. ”
“Brains?” Willow asked. “Sandwich brains?” She shook her head. “I mean, brains sandwich?”
Xander waggled said sandwich. “Close, but no pipe and slippers. Ham.” He stuffed the remainder into his mouth and chewed for all he was worth.
Willow grimaced. “Maybe you should eat slower. You might choke again.”
“Are you kidding me?” Xander mumbled as clearly as he could through the thick layers of bread and ham. He swallowed half and took a breath. “The ham’s three days out of date as it is. I’m not waiting any longer.”
“Oh.” An awkward look crossed Willow’s face. She knew what out-of-date ham meant. It wasn’t unusual for everyone in the Harris household to forget the concept of groceries and the buying thereof. “You want my burger?” she offered, already pushing the yellow polystyrene container toward her friend. “I’m not really that hungry.”
Xander shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Oh! Or Buffy gave me some fruit you can have…”
“I can stop you there, dedicated friend.” Xander lifted his school bag onto the lunch table and opened it wide for Willow to see. “Buffy the Fruit Fairy has already been.”
“Buffy the what?” Buffy asked. She stood at the end of the table with one hand at her hip and the other flicking her blond hair from her face where the breeze had blown it. “Never mind. Room for a small one?”
Xander moved his school bag out of the way and Buffy seated herself opposite him and next to Willow.
“Did Giles say anything else?” Willow asked.
Buffy had spent the first half of her lunch period in the library going over their morning surprise - an abandoned building full of dust. No vamps. No robes. No goddess-worshipping. Just a whole lot of sneezing powder.
“He wants me to work the docks into my patrol for the next few nights. See if anything else turns up. Plus, it looks like Willy and I have a second date.”
Xander felt guilty. He’d been there when Spike had burst into the vampires’ nest and turned them all to ash. He’d watched him dispatch the first four with frightening speed and strength, then watched Spike’s gleeful expression as he’d broken and twisted the bones of the fifth.
But it had been Spike’s treatment of the sixth vampire that had churned Xander’s stomach enough to spill half of it on the filthy floor, where it looked right at home.
He felt guilty because it had been his fault that Spike had done that, had tortured the creature to gain the information that Xander wanted.
Were there any more of their vampire group in Sunnydale?
And Spike had found that out just for him.
Spike hadn’t done it because it was the right thing to do, or because he cared about the general population. He’d done it because Xander had asked him to. Oh, and he liked the violence. Oh, and he wasn’t too keen on the sun being blocked out. Very bad for the planet, the plant life and ultimately the lives of all his Happy Meals. Spike was very up on ecology and the like.
And the answer he’d got was: No, there were no more worshippers of The Virgin Goddess. Not in Sunnydale, anyway. They had been a maverick group, a small cluster of vampire geeks that had clearly bitten off more than they could chew.
Xander was so very glad they were gone. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to see another kidney for a while.
Of course, all this meant that Buffy’s patrol was near enough pointless. He just didn’t have any way to tell her that without doing quite a bit of explaining/lying.
Still, the docks were a dicey place so maybe Buffy would get lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you looked at that scenario.
“Sorry, Buffy,” Willow said.
Buffy shrugged. “No biggie. It just looks like someone else got there first. Which is good. Or bad if, you know, the guys that offed them are bad guys too. Maybe badder, in the baddest sense.”
“Maybe you could take Angel with you tonight,” Willow suggested. “You two could do with some extra time together for, uh, talking and…smoochies?”
Buffy screwed up her nose. “Surrounded by all that fish and old men with beards and peglegs? Not exactly romantic, Wills.”
“I wonder of some of the fishermen guys really do have peglegs?” Xander thought aloud. “I mean, wouldn’t it be dangerous on a boat?”
Buffy considered this. “I guess. How can you have sea legs when you’ve only got one real one?”
Xander nodded and bit into the apple he was holding. “Exactly. I bet they get bored with shouting ‘man overboard!’ or ‘Pegleg rolled overboard!’”
Buffy blinked at him. “Anyway,” she said after a moment, “Angel isn’t going to be around for a few days.”
Xander stiffened at that.
“I found a note from him this morning,” Buffy continued. “He’s had to go out of town.”
“Did he say why?” Willow asked.
“You know Angel,” Buffy sighed.
Willow smiled sympathetically but then brightened. “He’s a mystery man, a sexy mystery man. It all adds to his…”
“Charm?” Buffy interrupted. “Annoying habits? His list of things he does that I really don’t like?”
“He’ll be back soon,” Willow soothed. Her voice was soft and it made Xander wish it was directed at him. It made him wish that Willow was telling him that Spike would be back soon.
But she wasn’t.
He wasn’t.
Oh, god, he’s not coming back, is he?
Xander felt the blood drain from his face and fall into his feet. He was shaking as he pushed himself up from the lunch table.
“Xander?” Willow said. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t trust himself to speak. The blood was swishing inside his feet and coming back up and his heart was hammering in his ears. He didn’t know where he was going but instinct told him to just get away. Everything was too close, too bright, too fucking normal.
“Whoa, hey.” It sounded like Buffy and, by the feel of the firm grip on his upper arm and the fact that he wasn’t on the floor, it definitely was Buffy.
The world was fuzzy and muffled, the grass beneath his feet wobbling and trying to tip him over. The hand on his arm stayed solid, guiding him somewhere, anywhere; it didn’t matter.
He’s not coming back.
The sky danced and tried to fall down and Xander found himself bending. His hands found two knobbly things that appeared to be his knees. He retched twice and suddenly his ears un-bunged and the world straightened with a rush of something that tasted extremely unpleasant.
“Euw.”
Yep, definitely Buffy.
His hand went to his mouth and he wiped away the saliva that had collected. “Sorry.”
“Oh, Xander, are you okay?” Willow asked. “Would you like me to get you some water?”
Xander nodded and straightened.
“What happened?” Buffy asked as Willow quickly ran back to the table to get a bottle of water from her bag.
“I must be sick. Maybe it was the ham.” He took the open bottle of water that had suddenly appeared in front of him and took a long swig.
“Maybe you should go home,” Buffy suggested. “No offence, but you really don’t look on the good side of healthy.”
“Sickness,” said a voice from behind them. “It repulses me. All those germs multiplying and breeding. And the carriers? Children. It’s revolting.”
“Principal Snyder,” Xander greeted with a fake smile and a salute. “Always a pleasure and an honour.”
Snyder looked at him with contempt. “Harris, get yourself to the school nurse immediately. And don’t touch anyone or anything on the way. We’ll have an epidemic on our hands. And the rest of you?” He looked away, repulsed. “Find someone to clear that mess up.”
“Xand? You need a hand?” Buffy was still holding on, still supporting while Xander gradually got his feet underneath him.
“No, no. I’m good. I’ll see you guys later.” He passed the lunch table and scooped up his bag, hugging it in front of him like a really comfortable shield. “Really, I’m fine.”
His friends didn’t look convinced.
“I’ll see you in class.” He turned away and left.
**
He was fine. He really was. No sickness here. No siree. But school policy said that he had to wait in the presence of the nurse for thirty minutes before he could be released back to class.
Twenty minutes with a bucket between his feet had passed and Xander was still thinking about why he’d spilled a perfectly good out-of-date sandwich on the ground.
And he was still thinking about the reason that he’d stashed a perfectly good compendium of demons under his bed instead of reading it.
It was all about Spike, and Xander cursed himself for being such a total idiot. He was acting like a love sick teenager and he didn’t like it one bit. Once he’d been out with Spike, once. Or twice if you counted the evening of the gross lemonade. So that was technically a date and a half.
So, after a date and a half, a few very passionate kisses and a little bit of frottage, Xander was throwing up at the thought of life without Spike.
What is wrong with this picture?
But then again, that was Xander all over. Quick to give his heart and fragile when it showed signs of cracking. But this was so not the person Xander ever pictured that he’d be throwing up on his shoes over.
Spike is an evil bloodsucking fiend. With a great ass. NO! With really sharp teeth and homicidal urges and a really cool looking leather coat and…NO! God, I am so doomed.
“How you feeling, hon?” the nurse asked from her desk. She’d asked the same question, on cue, every five minutes. Xander couldn’t quite decide if she actually cared or was simply working her schedule really efficiently.
“Fine thanks,” he said back, giving her a very slight smile as she glanced up from her crossword.
“Nothing coming up?” she asked, returning his smile and still looking slightly surprised that she was dealing with a teenager who actually had manners. Just a few.
“Nope. Nada. I think I’m good to go.”
The nurse looked up at the clock on the wall and then at the watch on her wrist. “Go on, then. But come straight back if you don’t feel well and I’ll arrange for you to go home.”
“Sure. Thanks.” Xander got up from his seat and wondered why he wasn’t trying to get out of school. This was a perfect opportunity to skip.
But he knew damn well what the reasons were and they were twofold. One, going home meant more worrying from his friends. Two, going home mean having to actually read the book he’d borrowed from Giles.
And he was going to. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to know for sure what Spike had done.
But he had to find out.
Later.
**
The class was halfway done by the time Xander arrived. He snuck in as quickly as
possible but still received a glare from the teacher and stares from everyone else. Willow waved at him from the back and Xander made his way to the seat she’d saved for him just in case.
“How are you feeling?” Willow whispered.
Apart from a slightly sore stomach and a scratchy throat, he was actually feeling pretty much back to normal. “Not bad, thanks. Uh, sorry about the projectile thing.”
“That’s okay. I think you got Buffy more than me. You really think it was the sandwich?”
Xander shrugged. “Had to be,” he lied. “I hadn’t eaten anything else.”
Willow gave him that look that half made him want to hug her and half made Xander want to curl up inside his t-shirt and only come out when the coast was clear. “Have you got anything else to eat at home? I could…”
“Wills, it’s fine. I’m fine. I have food. I just chose not to eat it.”
“I just worry…”
Xander stopped her. “Well, don’t. Nothing to worry about here.” His tone was definitely on the snappy side and he was immediately regretful when he noticed the hurt expression Willow was trying so hard not to show. He softened his voice. “Really. I’m honestly fine. Pinky swear.”
She smiled then and Xander smiled right back. “Hey, you wanna do something this weekend?” he asked. “You, me, Buffy, a bucket full of…oh, no, don’t say bucket…bags full of chips and other snacky heaven and a few vids?”
“Sure,” Willow said. “That would be great. We can ask Buffy after…” From in front Buffy turned around.
“I’m in,” she whispered, “on one condition.”
“Name it,” Willow said confidently.
“No one pukes on my shoes.”
TBC…
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Season 1, so contains young Xander. Some parts may contain mature themes, violence, and graphic sex. You have been warned! Also, this fic is likely to be very long and will be updated whenever the muse feels like it.
Summary: Teenage life on a Hellmouth. Xander doesn't feel too well.
Beta'd by kitty_poker1
Written for my darling amejisuto
Previous parts are HERE
It was a warm day. The sun was shining and the sky was a brilliant blue with just one white cloud floating away in the distance. It was a day that smelled like summer, the same way that a chill sometimes smelled like Christmas and the rain sometimes smelled like Monday mornings.
It was a day that insisted on being enjoyed from outside. So it was a real pity that most of it was going to be un-enjoyed from a classroom.
Still, it wasn’t all bad. It was lunchtime and Xander was catching rays from one of the outside lunch tables. And there was always after school to think about. And certain vampires to not think about. Much gladness.
Explaining the lack of robed, demon goddess-worshipping vamps down at the docks was certainly something Xander was glad he didn’t have to do. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t there, didn’t see anything and nobody could prove otherwise. Just let them try.
It was the perfect crime. Apart from the fact that no crime had been committed. He was pretty sure that dusting vamps was not against the law. Not yet, anyway. He just hoped there didn’t come a time when the world knew enough about the undead to provide statutes to protect them.
Now there was a strange thought.
Maybe one day there would be a special vampire court and a vampire rehabilitation unit.
Maybe there would be protesters lobbying to ban death row for zombies under the Undead Rights Act. And if they couldn’t achieve that they would claim that removal of the brain was barbaric and, at the very least, they should be allowed death by lethal injection of a nano-virus that sent a billion little ‘bots straight to zap an artery in the brain. Auw, little ‘bots. Cute.
Xander laughed and nearly choked on his sandwich.
Willow looked up from her burger and regarded Xander with amusement. “That’s some funny sandwich. Is there pickle in it? Pickle always makes you laugh.”
“No,” Xander chuckled after he finally managed to swallow his half-masticated food with one big gulp. “It’s just…could you imagine…? Never mind. Brains. ”
“Brains?” Willow asked. “Sandwich brains?” She shook her head. “I mean, brains sandwich?”
Xander waggled said sandwich. “Close, but no pipe and slippers. Ham.” He stuffed the remainder into his mouth and chewed for all he was worth.
Willow grimaced. “Maybe you should eat slower. You might choke again.”
“Are you kidding me?” Xander mumbled as clearly as he could through the thick layers of bread and ham. He swallowed half and took a breath. “The ham’s three days out of date as it is. I’m not waiting any longer.”
“Oh.” An awkward look crossed Willow’s face. She knew what out-of-date ham meant. It wasn’t unusual for everyone in the Harris household to forget the concept of groceries and the buying thereof. “You want my burger?” she offered, already pushing the yellow polystyrene container toward her friend. “I’m not really that hungry.”
Xander shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Oh! Or Buffy gave me some fruit you can have…”
“I can stop you there, dedicated friend.” Xander lifted his school bag onto the lunch table and opened it wide for Willow to see. “Buffy the Fruit Fairy has already been.”
“Buffy the what?” Buffy asked. She stood at the end of the table with one hand at her hip and the other flicking her blond hair from her face where the breeze had blown it. “Never mind. Room for a small one?”
Xander moved his school bag out of the way and Buffy seated herself opposite him and next to Willow.
“Did Giles say anything else?” Willow asked.
Buffy had spent the first half of her lunch period in the library going over their morning surprise - an abandoned building full of dust. No vamps. No robes. No goddess-worshipping. Just a whole lot of sneezing powder.
“He wants me to work the docks into my patrol for the next few nights. See if anything else turns up. Plus, it looks like Willy and I have a second date.”
Xander felt guilty. He’d been there when Spike had burst into the vampires’ nest and turned them all to ash. He’d watched him dispatch the first four with frightening speed and strength, then watched Spike’s gleeful expression as he’d broken and twisted the bones of the fifth.
But it had been Spike’s treatment of the sixth vampire that had churned Xander’s stomach enough to spill half of it on the filthy floor, where it looked right at home.
He felt guilty because it had been his fault that Spike had done that, had tortured the creature to gain the information that Xander wanted.
Were there any more of their vampire group in Sunnydale?
And Spike had found that out just for him.
Spike hadn’t done it because it was the right thing to do, or because he cared about the general population. He’d done it because Xander had asked him to. Oh, and he liked the violence. Oh, and he wasn’t too keen on the sun being blocked out. Very bad for the planet, the plant life and ultimately the lives of all his Happy Meals. Spike was very up on ecology and the like.
And the answer he’d got was: No, there were no more worshippers of The Virgin Goddess. Not in Sunnydale, anyway. They had been a maverick group, a small cluster of vampire geeks that had clearly bitten off more than they could chew.
Xander was so very glad they were gone. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to see another kidney for a while.
Of course, all this meant that Buffy’s patrol was near enough pointless. He just didn’t have any way to tell her that without doing quite a bit of explaining/lying.
Still, the docks were a dicey place so maybe Buffy would get lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you looked at that scenario.
“Sorry, Buffy,” Willow said.
Buffy shrugged. “No biggie. It just looks like someone else got there first. Which is good. Or bad if, you know, the guys that offed them are bad guys too. Maybe badder, in the baddest sense.”
“Maybe you could take Angel with you tonight,” Willow suggested. “You two could do with some extra time together for, uh, talking and…smoochies?”
Buffy screwed up her nose. “Surrounded by all that fish and old men with beards and peglegs? Not exactly romantic, Wills.”
“I wonder of some of the fishermen guys really do have peglegs?” Xander thought aloud. “I mean, wouldn’t it be dangerous on a boat?”
Buffy considered this. “I guess. How can you have sea legs when you’ve only got one real one?”
Xander nodded and bit into the apple he was holding. “Exactly. I bet they get bored with shouting ‘man overboard!’ or ‘Pegleg rolled overboard!’”
Buffy blinked at him. “Anyway,” she said after a moment, “Angel isn’t going to be around for a few days.”
Xander stiffened at that.
“I found a note from him this morning,” Buffy continued. “He’s had to go out of town.”
“Did he say why?” Willow asked.
“You know Angel,” Buffy sighed.
Willow smiled sympathetically but then brightened. “He’s a mystery man, a sexy mystery man. It all adds to his…”
“Charm?” Buffy interrupted. “Annoying habits? His list of things he does that I really don’t like?”
“He’ll be back soon,” Willow soothed. Her voice was soft and it made Xander wish it was directed at him. It made him wish that Willow was telling him that Spike would be back soon.
But she wasn’t.
He wasn’t.
Oh, god, he’s not coming back, is he?
Xander felt the blood drain from his face and fall into his feet. He was shaking as he pushed himself up from the lunch table.
“Xander?” Willow said. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t trust himself to speak. The blood was swishing inside his feet and coming back up and his heart was hammering in his ears. He didn’t know where he was going but instinct told him to just get away. Everything was too close, too bright, too fucking normal.
“Whoa, hey.” It sounded like Buffy and, by the feel of the firm grip on his upper arm and the fact that he wasn’t on the floor, it definitely was Buffy.
The world was fuzzy and muffled, the grass beneath his feet wobbling and trying to tip him over. The hand on his arm stayed solid, guiding him somewhere, anywhere; it didn’t matter.
He’s not coming back.
The sky danced and tried to fall down and Xander found himself bending. His hands found two knobbly things that appeared to be his knees. He retched twice and suddenly his ears un-bunged and the world straightened with a rush of something that tasted extremely unpleasant.
“Euw.”
Yep, definitely Buffy.
His hand went to his mouth and he wiped away the saliva that had collected. “Sorry.”
“Oh, Xander, are you okay?” Willow asked. “Would you like me to get you some water?”
Xander nodded and straightened.
“What happened?” Buffy asked as Willow quickly ran back to the table to get a bottle of water from her bag.
“I must be sick. Maybe it was the ham.” He took the open bottle of water that had suddenly appeared in front of him and took a long swig.
“Maybe you should go home,” Buffy suggested. “No offence, but you really don’t look on the good side of healthy.”
“Sickness,” said a voice from behind them. “It repulses me. All those germs multiplying and breeding. And the carriers? Children. It’s revolting.”
“Principal Snyder,” Xander greeted with a fake smile and a salute. “Always a pleasure and an honour.”
Snyder looked at him with contempt. “Harris, get yourself to the school nurse immediately. And don’t touch anyone or anything on the way. We’ll have an epidemic on our hands. And the rest of you?” He looked away, repulsed. “Find someone to clear that mess up.”
“Xand? You need a hand?” Buffy was still holding on, still supporting while Xander gradually got his feet underneath him.
“No, no. I’m good. I’ll see you guys later.” He passed the lunch table and scooped up his bag, hugging it in front of him like a really comfortable shield. “Really, I’m fine.”
His friends didn’t look convinced.
“I’ll see you in class.” He turned away and left.
**
He was fine. He really was. No sickness here. No siree. But school policy said that he had to wait in the presence of the nurse for thirty minutes before he could be released back to class.
Twenty minutes with a bucket between his feet had passed and Xander was still thinking about why he’d spilled a perfectly good out-of-date sandwich on the ground.
And he was still thinking about the reason that he’d stashed a perfectly good compendium of demons under his bed instead of reading it.
It was all about Spike, and Xander cursed himself for being such a total idiot. He was acting like a love sick teenager and he didn’t like it one bit. Once he’d been out with Spike, once. Or twice if you counted the evening of the gross lemonade. So that was technically a date and a half.
So, after a date and a half, a few very passionate kisses and a little bit of frottage, Xander was throwing up at the thought of life without Spike.
What is wrong with this picture?
But then again, that was Xander all over. Quick to give his heart and fragile when it showed signs of cracking. But this was so not the person Xander ever pictured that he’d be throwing up on his shoes over.
Spike is an evil bloodsucking fiend. With a great ass. NO! With really sharp teeth and homicidal urges and a really cool looking leather coat and…NO! God, I am so doomed.
“How you feeling, hon?” the nurse asked from her desk. She’d asked the same question, on cue, every five minutes. Xander couldn’t quite decide if she actually cared or was simply working her schedule really efficiently.
“Fine thanks,” he said back, giving her a very slight smile as she glanced up from her crossword.
“Nothing coming up?” she asked, returning his smile and still looking slightly surprised that she was dealing with a teenager who actually had manners. Just a few.
“Nope. Nada. I think I’m good to go.”
The nurse looked up at the clock on the wall and then at the watch on her wrist. “Go on, then. But come straight back if you don’t feel well and I’ll arrange for you to go home.”
“Sure. Thanks.” Xander got up from his seat and wondered why he wasn’t trying to get out of school. This was a perfect opportunity to skip.
But he knew damn well what the reasons were and they were twofold. One, going home meant more worrying from his friends. Two, going home mean having to actually read the book he’d borrowed from Giles.
And he was going to. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to know for sure what Spike had done.
But he had to find out.
Later.
**
The class was halfway done by the time Xander arrived. He snuck in as quickly as
possible but still received a glare from the teacher and stares from everyone else. Willow waved at him from the back and Xander made his way to the seat she’d saved for him just in case.
“How are you feeling?” Willow whispered.
Apart from a slightly sore stomach and a scratchy throat, he was actually feeling pretty much back to normal. “Not bad, thanks. Uh, sorry about the projectile thing.”
“That’s okay. I think you got Buffy more than me. You really think it was the sandwich?”
Xander shrugged. “Had to be,” he lied. “I hadn’t eaten anything else.”
Willow gave him that look that half made him want to hug her and half made Xander want to curl up inside his t-shirt and only come out when the coast was clear. “Have you got anything else to eat at home? I could…”
“Wills, it’s fine. I’m fine. I have food. I just chose not to eat it.”
“I just worry…”
Xander stopped her. “Well, don’t. Nothing to worry about here.” His tone was definitely on the snappy side and he was immediately regretful when he noticed the hurt expression Willow was trying so hard not to show. He softened his voice. “Really. I’m honestly fine. Pinky swear.”
She smiled then and Xander smiled right back. “Hey, you wanna do something this weekend?” he asked. “You, me, Buffy, a bucket full of…oh, no, don’t say bucket…bags full of chips and other snacky heaven and a few vids?”
“Sure,” Willow said. “That would be great. We can ask Buffy after…” From in front Buffy turned around.
“I’m in,” she whispered, “on one condition.”
“Name it,” Willow said confidently.
“No one pukes on my shoes.”
TBC…