One surprisingly awake eye pops open to the smell of fresh brewed coffee, jarring his senses to a single focused point, but Xander lay in bed for a few extra minutes. Images and sensations run through his mind in a rush as the previous night comes back to him in pieces. Brows furrow as he wonders if it actually happened. One shift of his right leg tells him that yes, something did. His muscles still hurt, but right now it feels more like a far away memory of pain, just a small inconvenience instead of the focus. He can't keep the smile from his face as he gets up and throws on his jeans, picks a shirt from his very unorganized closet and heads for the door, making a small 'oop' sound as he turns on his heel to retrieve his eyepatch. He may be fully comfortable with Andrew to the point of sharing something like last night without having to wonder what it really meant, but he still feels self conscious about the slight scarring and strange indentation of where his eye used to be.
"Mornin, Andy!" Xander's greeting is so chipper it actually startles his obviously still groggy companion, who turns so fast his long blonde curls bounce in a way that actually makes Xander giggle a little as he reaches for a coffee mug, giving it a small flip before filling it with a steaming cup of perfectly brewed as always coffee.
"Well. someone's in a good mood." Andrew forms a genuine smile watching his normally grumpy-in-the-morning room mate hum his way through his breakfast preparations, near dancing as he cracks eggs and opens bacon. The grin directed at him is so bright it could light up the entire new Watchers council building for a year, and that only makes Andy's smile grow wider. "After last night I didn't expect this kind of enthusiasm, Xan. Must have helped more than we thought it would."
Xander lets out a loud laugh at the comment as he makes a three-point toss of egg shells directly into the garbage, pumping his fist in celebration. "Andy, my man, after last night I think I could take on an entire herd of Glarghk Guhl Kashmas'nik demons." He turns and points triumphantly at nothing, beaming smile still firmly in place. "And not that long ago I couldn't even /say/ Glarghk Guhl Kashmas'nik!" Returning to his cooking he hums a tuneless song mostly to himself, and all Andy can do is stare at him, sipping his coffee with a pleased half smile on his face until Xan finishes his happy little breakfast dance, setting a plate full of delicious smelling food in front of him.
Few words are exchanged as both men tuck into their meals, the sounds of chewing and forks scraping ceramic filling most of the quite comfortable silence, which is interrupted by the shrill sound of Andy's cell phone playing the original Hulk TV show theme song. Excusing himself with a nod Andrew bounces to the livingroom to answer the call before his voicemail picks up, acknowledging Giles with a peppy overly enthusiastic greeting. Xander doesn't pay much attention to the short conversation, knowing whatever it was about, his always-happy-to-share-any-news-no-matter-how-trivial friend would fill him in when he hung up.
"And another new demon seems to have popped up outside Winnipeg." Closing his phone as he returns to the kitchen Andrew crosses his arms loosely, trying his best to look upset, but not hiding his excitement very well. "I think something's brewing up in Canada. something...evil." Always one for the dramatics, Andrew punctuates his last words by tilting his head down and lifting his hands, wiggling his fingers a little, causing Xan to laugh around his mouthful of toast. "So, i gotta go and see what we can find out about it before it ends up turning Godzilla on us." The blonde sighs and pouts a little at his unfinished breakfast before turning to the hallway, going to get dressed in his favorite sports coat that he felt made him look very professional.
In the time it takes Andy to get dressed, Xan finishes his coffee and pours a second cup, just returning to his seat as Andrew comes through the kitchen door, trying to get his unruly curls to sit in a somewhat respectable way. "I think I might need a haircut..." He heaves an oh-so-sad sigh, giving up on fussing with one particular twist of hair trying to stick up at his forehead, grabs a piece of bacon from Xander's plate as he passes through to the livingroom for his shoes, giggling as Xan smacks his hand. "The bacon is always greener on someone else's plate, Xan!" Is the jovial reply to Xan's good natured grumble.
Before Andrew finishes getting his shoes on, Xander is up from his seat at the table and leaning on the livingroom door frame, hands tucked slightly in his back pockets. "Hey Andy, um," He isn't sure why he suddenly has to say this, but he just feels he needs to say it. He keeps his eye focused on his friend, determined to get his point across. "About last night man, I... I really appreciate it. Been so long since anyone... Well, it's just been a long time." His hand comes up to the back of his neck, somewhat nervously playing with a few curls of his also a bit too long hair.
Andrew gives him a soft smile, finishes tying his laces and stands with a grace it took him a few years to develop, but now comes naturally to the small, thin man. "Xander, it means a lot to hear you say that." Andy places a hand on Xander's chest, smiling up at him. "I'm so glad our talk helped you this much. You know i'm always here for you." A quick glance to the clock behind Xander's head. "But i have to go!" He hurriedly grabs his briefcase and rushes out the door, making sure not to slam it in his rush. Xander stands blinking at the empty space that his friend occupied seconds ago, his hand sliding to the still warm spot on his chest Andy's hand was. "Talk? I meant..." His brows furrow in confusion and he begins to wonder if he had actually dreamt the entire thing last night. He shakes his head, snapping from his stupor and heads back to the kitchen to finish eating and clean up the mess he left from his enthusiastic breakfast.
Xander spends the day drifting around the house, not doing much of anything really, occassionally trying to make sense of his night and resulting morning. He's so sure he had gotten a rub down. His muscles not screaming at him is proof of that, but Andrew either doesn't want to acknowledge it, or he had one of the most vivid dreams he's ever had. After a few hours of on and off mental debates he finally allows himself to focus on other things. Finishing the dishes, laundry, convincing himself the carpet could go another day without needing vaccuming, even ending up in the library he doesn't spend a lot of time in, since he had read all the comics he and Andy used to argue over, more than twice each. They really needed to update the already impressive collection one of these days. He lazily scans the titles of some of the non fiction books Andrew owns, actually getting a little impressed by some of the people he had biographies on, settling on the life story of some fiction writer he's never actually heard of. after grabbing a can of pop from the fridge, he ensconces himself comfortably along the sofa to read in an effort to make sure his thoughts didn't wander back to the strange circumstances of secret nighttime massage sessions that are apparently not mentioned outside the room they take place in.
As it turns out, his reading ploy worked, and before he realizes how much time passed, Andrew comes home, looking tired but pleased. They figured out what the demon was, after many long phonecalls to different watchers all over the Americas, and a few in countries across the world. He gives Xan a brief runthrough of his day, emphahsising all the bits he found most exciting with little hand gestures and nearly bouncing out of his seat on his description of what the demon was doing way up in the great white North.
Andy apologises and excuses himself for the night, stating just how tired he is and that he apparently has to get an early start in the morning to contact the proper covens about spells they need to fight this demon properly. Xander nods and smiles, wishing his friend good night before finishing the chapter he had been reading and heading to bed himself.
The rest of the week passed much the same, they worked, they shared meals when they were both home, they argued over superheroes and watched bad movies, not once mentioning the night that was becoming more and more like it /had/ been a dream in Xander's mind, and was therefore all but forgotten.
Until Friday night.
Scooby focus shifted on Friday, after spending so much time trying to help with 'crisis in Canada', as Andrew dubbed it, they hadn't left themselves enough time to really prepare for an attack on their own little town. Xander had of course, joined the small band of Slayers they had at hand, mostly newbies, but still trained enough to kick a little demon ass, Andrew helped coordinate the attack, and Spike, who did a regular visit to each Watcher to help the newest girls learn more about vampires with first hand knowledge and non deadly fighting sessions, joined in the 'fun', watching Xander's blind side and helping Slayers take down the small group of Fyarl demons that had been sent by some unknown master to take out a few small buldings in the industrial section of town. The fight didn't last long, but with the Fyarl's strength and new Slayer stubborness, a few of the intrepid band got their share of injuries. Andrew contacted the medics on the Council's payroll, made sure the girls all got seen to, even the ones claiming no injuries, because one was always better safe than sorry, and fussed over Xander's brand new 'gaping chest wound'. ("Really, the claw barely even got me. Look, can't see any internal organs at all. Inner bits safely on the inner") He convinced Spike to help get Xan home and safely in his bed for the night.
Now lying on his bed, Xander thanks Spike for practically carrying him home, for not carrying him /to/ his room, and tries his best to reassure Andrew that he really is ok, and would let him know when he was in any pain. "Andy, seriously, I had worse in Tunisia, this is nothin." To emphasise his point Xander removes his shirt, albeit carefully, shifting to show the long scar running from his right shoulder blade across to the left of his back, stopping below his armpit. "Now stop worrying. Doc gave me the good stuff, I'll be in no pain for weeks." He shakes the pill bottle next to his face, giving the cheekiest grin he can form in his current, trying-to-hide-his-pain-again state. Finally seeming satisfied, Andrew nods and with a few soft words of thanks to Spike, leaves to putter around, doing whatever he feels he needs to do to wind down his day. The sounds of papers shuffling can be heard as he opens his briefcase to fill in his reports of the night.
"Little sod's got himself all worked up, hasn't he?" Spike nods his head in the direction Andrew bustled off, scarred eyebrow raising in amusement. "Yea, you know Andrew. Always has to be taking care of someone." Xander chuckles weakly as he attempts to slide his jeans off, much to the dismay of his deeper-than -he'd-care-to-admit claw wound from hours before. A frown mars Spikes timeless face as he watches Xander struggle and wince at the use of his torn muscles which were now screaming at him to just stop moving, and cautiously offers to help. "You fought good tonight mate, take yourself a minute to relax, yea?" Xan settles onto his back, somewhat awkwardly, pants not quite below his boxers as he isn't able to bend enough to remove them. "I was trying, really, but I think my body and my brain are having a bit of a war about which one is doin it right. I think Levis wins this round" Spike shakes his head, laughing softly, taking a step toward Xander. "Ya git, hold still. Lemme give ya a hand."
All Xander can do is drop his arms to his sides with a huff of frustration, signalling to Spike that he officially gives up. With another shake of his head Spike grabs onto the waistband of Xan's jeans, unzips them with a mocking look toward the now shrugging man laughing at himself on the bed, and pulls them off, careful not to jar Xander too much, not wanting to risk reopening his fresh sutures and make everything worse. He slides the pants over Xan's feet and tosses them aside, then helps Xan to shift more comfortably onto his back and under the covers.
"Appreciate it man, thanks" Xan lifts his arm in a half gestured wave of appreciation and attempts to find a position that should be less likely to further injure himself. With a slight nod and murmered "g'night" Spike exits the room, flicking off the light and gently closing the door behind himself, saying a few brief words to Andrew before heading out to his room at the small watchers building in the south end of town.
It's not long before Xander falls into a light sleep, having not taken any pain medication since he left the medlab at the local watcher HQ, and after checking on him four times Andrew tiredly takes himself to bed, satisfied that Xander isn't in as much pain as he imagines.
An unknown amount of time passes as Xan drifts in and out of sleep, occasionally rolling onto his stitches, having to grit his teeth to keep from shouting and causing more worry to his already over protective roommate. During one particularly painful roll he thinks he hears a sound coming from the other side of his room. He just ignores it in favor of reaching for his pain medication and water on the side table.
"Here, let me" The sudden soft voice next to his bed startles him enough to make him suck in a breath and place his hand over the bandage as he winces in pain. "Andy? man, you gotta give a guy some warning before you ninja like that." Xander attempts a weak chuckle and lays his head back on his pillow, hand reaching for the water and pills held out my slim worried fingers. "Is it that bad, Xan?" Andrew sits at the edge of the bed, deep frown creasing his brow as he looks at the wound dressings, obviously wanting to check the damage underneath. "Just first night aches is all, really. It'll be fine, we got the best docs at watcher central." He hands back the water glass, the best 'everything's fine' smile he can muster firmly in place.
It's obvious that his friend doesn't believe him as he begins fussing with the blankets, making sure they're straight and in no way a hinderance to the sleep the medication would soon help the one eyed fighter get. An eye roll and mock complaints are rewarded him for his efforts, and they both laugh softly for a moment before the room falls silent again. They both attempt to speak at once, smiling at each other and signalling for the other to proceed. It's Xander that breaks the silence first. "Andy, you know you don't have to go to trouble for me, right? I mean, the other night, this." He gestures vaguely to his side. "You have enough to deal with without having to take on the care of your invalid roomy." The cheesy sideways grin he shoots toward his companion is returned with a small shake of his head. "No, you're not. You're in no way an invalid, or.. or.. anything other than our best fighter, a wonderful leader, and..." He cautiously places his hand on Xander's chest, careful of the wound. "You're just... you're wonderful." Xander's eye couldn't decide if it would widen in shock at the statement, or close at the emotions he felt in that quiet near shaking voice. "And, i want to make sure you know that."
Before Xander can think of anything to say in response, the hand on his chest begins to move, light circles against tender skin, barely making contact, but feeling so good, it's all he can do to make eye contact in a silent conversation before making a near imperceptible nod, and relaxing back into the pillows again. Hands move so gently Xan is barely sure he 's really feeling them, first in small cirlces around his chest, down his uninjured side, trailing together over firm biceps, down to calloused fingertips, softly urging the release of tensions built from too many years of fighting a fight so few non super powered people in the world could do. Shoulders tingle with each movement of deft fingers gently working out knots, sighs of contentment escaping a chest that carried the weight of the world, so many times. Xander could feel sleep creeping up to claim him as those wonderful hands give him the best not quite massage he's ever felt, from one of the last people in the world he would ever imagine would be performing it. No longer able to even open his eye, he simply lays silent, concentrating on the sensations. He can feel the whisper soft trails along his entire body, save the worst part of his deep claw wound, around his hips, as far along his back as can be reached without him moving, certain he almost feels a breath against his skin. The last thoughts in his mind before sleep finally swallows him are the feeling of lips carressing that little spot on the V of his pelvis, the shiver along his spine that accompanies it, and the fact that a part of him truly hopes he isn't imagining those same lips on his own before unconsciousness takes him completely.