This is mostly directed at passionate4pens94, but the rest of you that have been following my nightly XAndrew might be interested. I will probably continue these updates nightly, for as long as my inspiration keeps. Every night I write a little, maybe three or four one shots or a chapter or so of C'est la Vie, the full length Buffy fic I'm working on (it'll be on here eventually). Lately my inspiration come ins the form of Xandrew or Willow being really random (I'm thinking of making a series out of it). At the moment I've got four one shots in the line up, three of the Xandrew, so you have at least three more nights of this to look forward to. And I haven't even started writing tonight yet.

Replacement

It had been a few weeks since the Sunnydale Incident, that's what they were calling it these days. It had been difficult at first, and only gotten more so as the days droned on, dealing with all the lives that had been lost.

They were in Scotland, for the moment, but not for long. Once they had a base set up everyone would be leaving to find new slayers, to fight evil, to do what they'd always done, with the added benefit of extra firepower.

Everyone was leaving except Xander, who was going to be in charge of Command Central. Xander. Xander who had one eye and a dozen neurotic issues since Anya's death, and was absolutely terrible with women was being put in charge of several dozen slayers. Yeah, that was going to go over well.

"I'll be out of your hair tomorrow," Andrew promised one evening when they returned to Xander's apartment. Xander was the only one to have his own place, the girls all having gotten hotels while they were in town, knowing they'd only be around a short time. Xander had offered to let Andrew board with him rather than waste money on a hotel, though they were all being paid for by Giles' mysterious funding (which everyone was fairly sure had been stolen from the former Watchers Council).

"Its fine Andrew," Xander assured him. Truth was, living with the blonde geek hadn't been all that bad. They generally liked the same TV shows and movies, and Andrew was probably the one and only friend he could argue Star Trek with, though Xander didn't do a lot of arguing since Sunnydale. He didn't do a lot of much. He was quieter and less enthused, but he was still Xander.

"You say that, but I now I drive you crazy. But don't worry, I'll be leaving for Italy tomorrow and you won't have to deal with me for a while."

"Don't act like that," Xander said, standing close to him. "You're my friend."

"Yeah?" he replied, unsure.

"Of course," Xander nodded, the added "And maybe…" he didn't finish the thought.

"Maybe what?" Andrew prompted.

Xander leaned in closer to him and kissed him. Andrew gasped in shock, allowing Xander entrance to his mouth. A moment later Andrew relaxed and kissed him back. The kissing grew from soft to intense and hard as Xander's hands roamed the smaller man's body, eventually finding their way down to his pants and fiddling with his buckle.

Andrew pulled away, slightly out of breath. "Stop," he whispered. Xander kissed him and continued removing his belt. "Xander, don't do this," he said weakly.

Xander pulled away and looked him in the eyes.

"Don't you want this?" he asked.

Andrew sighed. "God yes. I do. Of course I do. But you don't. This isn't about me and you. This is about Anya."

"Anya's dead," Xander replied.

"Exactly. She's dead and I'm her replacement. You're using me to make up for the fact that she isn't here."

Xander looked at him for a moment, the said "Does it matter?" Then kissed him again.

A for a while, just a little while, it didn't matter.

Wow, that one kinda hurt to write. I guess a lot of them hurt to write, but this one in particular.