Warning: Slashiness and implied threesomeness.
Chapter Four
"Ho, Young Female of the Summers Clan," Xander called, dashing up the steps and grabbing the plastic trashcan that was about to tumble out of Dawn's grasp, splattering milk cartons and deviled eggs all over the back porch. "Need some help?"
"Yeah, thanks." Dawn wrinkled her nose. "Why am *I* taking out the trash, I'd like to know, instead of Ms. Super-Strength?"
"Because Ms. Super-Strength traded you for doing the dishes," Buffy said from the kitchen window.
Dawn picked up the fallen lid and rolled her eyes. "Also with the super hearing..." Xander hoisted the can up with a grin, and Dawn walked along with him while he carried it out to the alley. When they were far enough away that she was sure her sister the Bat-Queen couldn't hear her, she said, "So, I heard you went downtown to look at naked Spike last night, and you liked him so much you took him home..."
Xander sputtered. "I did *not*... I...hey, what the heck is this thing?" He pointed to the fuzzy red doll on the very top of the trash pile.
"It' s Tickle-Me-Elmo, which you know, Lame-Avoidance-Man, since your wife got it for me for Christmas. It was always creepy, but now its voicebox is broken. Just starts laughing in the middle of the night. Not to insult Anya, but no thanks. Enough spooky stuff around without possessed toys in my room. And, well, it's a little young for me anyway."
He nodded. "Anya doesn't always get things like that. But she does try."
"Anya's cool -- she's helping me with my World History, and we're going through my U.S. Government book together, kinda like she's auditing the class. And she's funny -- she got all excited when she thought disenfranchise meant kicking all the French people out of the country." She looked sideways at him. "But you're not here to talk about Anya -- you came to talk about Spike."
"No I didn-- okay, I did, but not with you."
Dawn grinned triumphantly. "I knew it. So, what, you came to ask *Buffy* what to do about liking him? Like *she'd* know. Her idea of dealing with Spike is to pretend she doesn't know he still likes her, and be nice to him 'cause she feels guilty that she doesn't like him back."
Xander frowned. "I don't 'like' Spike."
"But you wanna see him naked."
"No!"
"Why not? Anya does; she said so. "
"She did not. She did?"
"Uh-huh. This morning when we were studying. She *also* said she knows you do too. I don't blame you-- I've seen him naked; he's hot."
His eyes bugged. "Dawn! You weren't at the Bronze last night--"
"I wish. I watched some of the Buffybot's home movies, though."
Xander stared, then said carefully, "Um... nothing with me and Anya in the basement of the magic shop, right?"
Dawn whapped him over the head with Tickle-Me-Elmo, which cackled maniacally. "Okay, so I know you're not gonna go with *my* plan, which is grab Spike and chain him up so he can be your and Anya's love-slave, and you can loan him to me on weekends."
Xander was still staring.
"What? I'm eighteen now. Hello to the real world, Old Guy."
"I'm not old. I'm...mature." He bapped her back with Elmo. "So what's your sage and thankfully-over-the-age-of-consent-so-I-don't-get-arrested-for-having-this-conversation advice? Who should I talk to, if not Buffy?"
"Um, Spike?"
"Um, no."
"Then go talk to somebody who knows him. Well."
Xander shook his head frantically. "Oh no. No, no, no, no...."
"Baby. He doesn't bite. Well, okay, he does, but..."
