TITLE: Back Seat Eavesdropping (Part 4)
SERIES: It Started With A Car....
AUTHOR: Jana Kay
EMAIL: jana_kay17@yahoo.com.au
DISCLAIMER: All characters named here belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB and 20th Century Fox. No profit being made, I'm just playing.
RATING: R and in future parts **MAY** contain **M/M and F/F SLASH** references. I'm not sure yet, but best to be warned.
PAIRING: X/Anya, S/D
IMPROV: #17 -- ragged, decade, invent, cascade
SPOILERS: This takes place a week after 'Where the Wild Things Are,' and breaks from canon from that.
SUMMARY: It's funny what you hear when you're stuck in the trunk of a car.
NOTES: These //…// indicate thoughts or inner dialogue.

*****

When the thumping bass that's trying to flop Xander's gums off stops suddenly, Xander waits anxiously in the darkness to see if they've stopped.

Apparently, the continued movement of the car says no.

Grumbling angrily, he quickly stops when he realises he can just barely hear Anya and Spike talking.

Sliding as close to the far end of the trunk as he can, he presses his ear to the side, not feeling in the least bad by his blatant eavesdropping. As far as he's concerned, switching the music off and dumping him back here like a lump of garbage where Spike can't keep an eye on him is just asking for trouble.

Plus he's really bored.

And if Spike is hitting on Anya again, he'll throw the toolbox at the bleached idiot's head the next chance he gets. Maybe there's even a spike in there. It'd be fitting to use one of those against the vampire. Maybe Xander will even invent a few new ways to implement it.

Ear to the side, trying not to breathe in dust and spiders, and he listens.

"--so that's where we're going."

"But why?"

A clearly audible sigh that makes Xander want to cringe, and then he hears Spike say, "Ask me that again, love, and I'll rip your throat out right now and stuff the plan."

A nervous laugh from Anya, "Okay, okay, no more talking from me."

A disgusted snort. "You can talk, Anya, it's why I brought you up to the front. I just don't want you to talk about *that*.

"Ohhh ... alright. Fine."

There's silence for a few moments, in which Xander can just imagine Anya looking anywhere but at Spike and then he hears her say, "So how about this weather?"

There's a sputtering from Xander as his eyes widen, and he can clearly hear Spike doing the same thing. A sudden swerve of the car that jolts him up against the side, winding him, further proves the point that Spike may be just a *liiitle* bit shocked.

The car straightens again after much quiet moaning and ragged breathing from Xander as he clutches his side, and loud tire squealing from outside the car. When he's finally able to breathe again without a part of his body hurting, Xander presses his ear up against the side again, hoping to catch the remainder of the conversation between the two in the front.

"... few days ago you were talking about eviscerating like we were best chums ... now you're talking about the bloomin' weather? I can't exactly tell you know, what with the unfortunate sun allergy I've had for a couple of decades now."

A frustrated noise from Anya. "But you couldn't kill me then! What, do you want me to talk about all my old customers now that you can actually do something about it?! I'm not stupid you know, I don't really want to end up dead just because I give you an idea and you feel like you're out of practice."

A growl from Spike that makes Xander's teeth ache. "You may end up dead anyway, so just. act. naturally."

A strained huff from Anya now, and the squeak of the old leather upholstery as she squirms in her seat. "You could at least have let Xander sit in the back you know. It wouldn't have killed you to be a bit nicer."

Xander was suddenly holding his breath, wondering if Spike would kill Anya right then, or just pull over and let him out to shut her up ... finally ... because he's getting a cramp in one of his butt muscles that he doesn't think is even possible despite the fact that it's twinging like crazy.

//Nice Mr Cheek// he thinks as he rubs it awkwardly, fingers pressing deep into the muscle to alleviate pain. //Just relax ... and pleaseletmeoutpleaseletmeout.// It's still very black inside the interior of the trunk and his mind is starting to play tricks on him. He misjudged how far away his ear was from the side so he could listen to Spike's answer, and he knocked his head up against it.

Again.

Then again, it could have just been his own graceless skills.

He can hear a loud snort from Spike as he chuckles, his mood apparently swinging very quickly and easily from 'shut-up-or-I'll-kill-you-no-I-might-kill-you-anyway,' to 'gosh-you're-so-funny-pet-I-might-bust-a-gut.'

"Might not kill me, Anya? Have you ever spent two minutes alone with that moron without shagging?"

"Actually, yes. Just the other day we were--"

"Pet, I mean when you aren't *talking* about shagging either."

"Well there was that time that--"

"Or talking about toys to help you shag with ... no ... no ... bad ... bad mental place."

Xander can hear a decisive slap against what he thinks must be the steering wheel.

"Nope. Not letting him out, pet. If I do, I might just kill him to get that thought out of my mind, and he ain't carking it."

Relieved exhalation of breath from Xander, cascading back over him as it rebounds off the sides and has nowhere else to go.

"Not yet anyway."

Fuck!

So much for his quiet fantasies of 'maybe-he'll-just-forget-me-and-I'll-die-of-starvation-which-is-a-much-better-way-to-go-than-neck-biting.'

Xander is left with his own thoughts for a few minutes, quiet seeping in around him because Spike and Anya aren't talking anymore, and he's zoned out the noises of the car to keep his hearing and sanity. He bites his fingernails in the dark, a bad habit left over from his childhood, and nurtured into continuing because he's always the one left behind when Buffy has to fight off the next ugly baddie, and he has no other outlet for worry than his own poor nails.

Instead of doing what he normally does when he's in danger and think of creative ways in which Buffy will rush in and save him, bosom heaving //Bad Xander, you love Anya// he starts imagining ways in which Spike will creatively kill him. After all, they're in a car speeding quickly away from Sunnydale, and nobody knows where they are or that Spike has the chip out. It's a futile hope to think that Buffy and Giles will come racing to their rescue this time.

//Not// he thinks angrily //that Anya needs much rescuing at this point. *I'm* the one that he can't wait to get his hands on, nummy thing that I am.//

He groans quietly and mentally corrects himself. //Nummy doofus who should never have told that to the bleached wonder, because now said bleached wonder will still think I'm nummy.//

Thankfully, his suicidal thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Anya's voice.

"Spike?"

Creak of leather as the vampire shifts. "Yeah, what?"

"Are we nearly there yet?"

And suddenly, Xander is very happy that he's still stuck in the trunk.


End.