Part 34 - It's only a custom, right?

 

*Hmm, Sunday morning... no getting up...* Xander felt a warm body spooned against his back. Anya. Her arm was possessively slung around his waist. *Hmmmm* he sighed lazily. His mind felt pleasantly blurry and fuzzy and he drifted back into that comfortable no-man's-land between waking and sleeping, in which a half hour only lasted as long as the blink of an eye.

 

Suddenly, a stray thought jolted him out of his haze. *Spike! Spike's here.* He felt a happy flutter in his stomach. He opened his eyes. *But is he really?* He listened carefully but the apartment was quiet. All he could hear was the twittering of sparrows outside the bedroom window. And of course Anya's regular breathing. Judging by the brightness of room it was already late in the morning. He glanced at the alarm-clock. 10:38! *Wow, that's late. It's not like Anya to sleep that long.*

 

He turned around and planted a kiss on her shoulder. And another one. She made a contented sound.

 

He got out of bed and shuffled into the living room. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the sofa. *Bingo! He's here!* Xander could see a shock of blond hair on the pillow, the rest of the vampire was hidden under the thin guest duvet. Spike's clothes were scattered over a chair. As far as Xander could tell, all of them. *Gulp.*

 

All the blinds were closed, so the room was dark except for several shafts of bright sunlight that spilled into the room where the blinds didn't close properly. Some of those brilliant beams of light actually came perilously close to the sofa Spike was sleeping on.

 

*Mental note: Sofa next to window equals bad sleeping place for flammable vampire. Get new blinds or move sofa.* He grinned. *Or move vampire to more suitable location...*

 

He went to their linen cupboard and got out a few sheets, then he quietly set about keeping the sunlight out and making the living room vampire-proof. Spike gave no sign of waking up.

 

Only when he was satisfied that Spike was safe from ill-timed combustion did Xander rush into the bathroom for a much needed morning pee.

 

When he returned to the bedroom, Anya was awake. She sat up and smiled at him. "Mornin' sweetie."

 

"Morning, Ahn." *I wonder if we should wake Spike for breakfast... hmm, waffles with syrup? Or my famous omelet? Maybe I should let Anya decide...*

 

He sat down beside her on the bed and gave her pretty ankle an affectionate squeeze. But before he could ask her what she'd like, she was already talking.

 

"Why didn't you tell me you were having sex with Spike?"

 

"What?" Xander squeaked, looking about as panicky as if Anya had told him the house was on fire. "What?" he asked again, deciding a house on fire was nothing compared to a pissed off vengeance demon, never mind the ex. He swallowed an automatic 'Who's having sex with Spike?' and tried to get his brain to work, which seemed kinda frozen, cause when he tried to come up with a fitting, truthful and not-vengeance-inducing answer he just drew a blank.

 

Fortunately, Anya cheerfully continued. "You could have told me that you were feeling more experimental. What did you do? Spike said you didn't go 'all the way'," she painted little quotation marks in the air, "so what DID you do? And why didn't you let me watch? Or was that one of those instances you keep telling me about, you know, where humans prefer some privacy? I can understand that, on a totally theoretical level, of course, first time nervousness and all..."

 

"'Spike said'?" Xander repeated sheepishly, picking up the one thing in her ramble that did not instantly make his mind boggle. "As in Spike opened his mouth and said something about... us?" *Oh god oh god oh god.*

 

"Oh, Spike and I had a little talk last night, while you were sleeping. I almost staked him too. You really should have told me what you're planning. If I had dusted or cursed him it would have all been your fault. It's not very clever to keep secrets from someone who used to be a vengeance demon, honey."

 

 "So I gather," he said, drawing great reassurance from the fact that she was calling him 'honey' rather than a cheat.  "Spike, is he... is he okay? I mean there was someone lying on our sofa just now and naturally I assumed it was the bleached wonder, but now you're telling me you found out about, well, you know, I'm just wondering if he's... um..."

 

"Still in one piece? Oh yes. I mean, I did shove a stake in his chest, but not deep enough to kill him. I assure you, everything is still in working order."

 

She leaned forward and gave Xander a resounding kiss. "Thank you."

 

"Huh?"

 

"For a wonderful birthday present," she said effusively. "I mean, I know one is only supposed to open presents on the day of the actual birth, or after - if presents arrive at a later date you are not under the obligation to wait until the next birthday, thank god - but if Spike hadn't you know 'opened up'," again those gestured quotation marks, "he'd probably be pretty unhappy right now and rather unpleasant to look at, and I think I just made a pun, you know, 'open presents' and 'open up.' I think I am getting better at this humor thing. What do you say, sweetie?"

 

"So, you're okay with this?" he asked, still trying to catch up with Anya's unique way of thinking.

 

"Of course I am. When do I get the rest of my present? When are we going to do IT? I mean we could ignore tradition, couldn't we, it's only a stupid human custom, right? It's not like we'll have seven years of bad luck if I ask for my whole birthday present now."

 

Involuntarily, Xander glanced at the bedroom door.

 

"Or is it?" Anya suddenly seemed uncertain. "Because that would be too bad. Do you think I'll have all that bad luck, even though I only had what would be, like, a first down payment on my present?"

 

"What?" Xander snapped.

 

 

 

>>> Part 35

 

<<< Part 33

 

Back to Index