The Long Summer 13
The ominous clouds broke shortly before sunset and allowed a dazzling red haze to fall on the horizon. Xander admired it as he pulled out of the lumberyard and drove across town towards the magic shop. The old radio in the dash was cooperating to play a lively set of tunes that reminded him of his junior high days.
He found himself almost wistful for the simpler times. He was the class clown. His best friend was the class nerd. It held a certain animated sense of perfection through the long tunnel of memory.
So what if he'd slept in the backyard at Christmas? There was Jessie to hang with on the weekends, skateboarding by the mall and Willow to pester for homework advice and sometimes, just to copy off of. Those were the days, when it was just the three of them tooling around.
His mouth twisted into a wry grin as he recalled the first glimpse of a laptop through the glass at the computer store. Willow stood frozen in place. The grin emitted a low laugh as he recalled bodily picking her up to move her. Roasting marshmallows and making s'mores over the barbecue pit in Jessie's backyard; or sneaking a beer or two under the canvas cover of Jessie's Dad's boat.
As he swung the pickup into the alleyway, he was damn near humming. He could probably measure, cut and set up the counter tonight. Then polish off the bookshelves on Tuesday. There was definite potential.
Xander unlocked the back door and tossed his keys into the air with one hand and catching them behind his back with the other. He used a small piece of wood to wedge the door open before returning to the truck to grab his first plank of wood.
"Need a hand with that?" It was the second time that day he felt the need to crawl up into the truck and yelp like a scared puppy.
"Jesus. H. Gensundheit!" Xander swore and glared at the blonde man standing not two feet away with another large lunchbox and thermos in his hands. "Do you mind not sneaking up on me and trying to scare me into the next life?"
"Sorry, mate. I wasn't sneaking. I was out front, saw you pull around and figured I'd come back and give you a hand." Spike was frowning as he looked at him. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Huh?" Xander's heart was resuming its normal four beat cadence and he glanced down at the stained shirt. "Oh - the shirt. Small accident at the site. No biggie." He shrugged it off and hauled the plank out. "What are you doing here?"
"I brought your dinner and said I'd pop round to help. A little accident? Someone stab themselves in an artery and bleed all over you?" Spike followed him into the shop and set the lunch box and thermos down to the side. He stripped off the black leather jacket he was sporting and tossed it on the back of a still reasonably sturdy chair.
"Just had a string of bad luck today. Couple of guys getting over-excited with power tools." Xander shrugged again and tried not to wince. Sudden motions reminded the little cuts along his arms and shoulders that they needed to sting, a lot.
"Uh huh." Spike's tone was skeptical. "I'll get the rest of that lot inside. You eat. Food should still be hot."
Xander pulled his tape measure out of a pocket and scowled after the vampire. He wondered if Spike knew just how irritating he was?
Oh probably, Xander answered himself sardonically. Why else would he be hanging out with me? He ignored his own question and glanced at the lunch box. He stared at it thoughtfully as Spike passed him by with several boards stacked on one shoulder.
"Counter?" He asked.
"Yep." Xander nodded. His stomach rumbled its ascent to his own internal musings, so he pocketed the tape and wandered over to the lunchbox. Popping it open, the smell of freshly grilled onions, melted cheese and steak assaulted his senses.
Ravenous, he tore into the sandwich like a small hurricane. He saw Spike smirk as he sauntered back out to the truck and Xander resisted the urge to use a rude gesture. Working men need to eat, he reasoned. If Spike wanted to volunteer as a food caterer, well more power to him.
He licked his fingers cleaned and carried the thermos with him into the front room. The measuring tape found its way into his hand. He started with where the counter used to sit; he measured the floor area and then considered it. He could build the standard rectangle, but it made more sense to use a u shape. It would afford more counter space for specials and tagging, but it wouldn't intrude in the shops necessary space.
Yeah, that would work.
He pulled out a small notepad and jotted down the measurements along with a small sketch of his intent. Spike appeared at his shoulder and seemed to be studying the drawing in Xander's hand.
"Do you mind?" Xander asked dryly.
"Not at all. I think she'd fancy the use of that. Give her more space without taking up saleable floor space."
"And you'd know that, hmm?" He felt his mouth tighten and he turned to see Spike staring at him with a bland look. "What?"
"That's your blood, mate." Spike nodded to his shirt.
"Connoisseur?" Xander jabbed.
"No. Just smelled it enough at various points. So what kind of accident did you have that made you bleed all over like that?"
Xander shrugged. "Look, I have work to do. You going to help or you going to jabber?"
"What the hell are you two doing?" A third voice interrupted and they turned to see Giles standing framed in the new doorway to the back room. "Anyone?"
The ominous clouds broke shortly before sunset and allowed a dazzling red haze to fall on the horizon. Xander admired it as he pulled out of the lumberyard and drove across town towards the magic shop. The old radio in the dash was cooperating to play a lively set of tunes that reminded him of his junior high days.
He found himself almost wistful for the simpler times. He was the class clown. His best friend was the class nerd. It held a certain animated sense of perfection through the long tunnel of memory.
So what if he'd slept in the backyard at Christmas? There was Jessie to hang with on the weekends, skateboarding by the mall and Willow to pester for homework advice and sometimes, just to copy off of. Those were the days, when it was just the three of them tooling around.
His mouth twisted into a wry grin as he recalled the first glimpse of a laptop through the glass at the computer store. Willow stood frozen in place. The grin emitted a low laugh as he recalled bodily picking her up to move her. Roasting marshmallows and making s'mores over the barbecue pit in Jessie's backyard; or sneaking a beer or two under the canvas cover of Jessie's Dad's boat.
As he swung the pickup into the alleyway, he was damn near humming. He could probably measure, cut and set up the counter tonight. Then polish off the bookshelves on Tuesday. There was definite potential.
Xander unlocked the back door and tossed his keys into the air with one hand and catching them behind his back with the other. He used a small piece of wood to wedge the door open before returning to the truck to grab his first plank of wood.
"Need a hand with that?" It was the second time that day he felt the need to crawl up into the truck and yelp like a scared puppy.
"Jesus. H. Gensundheit!" Xander swore and glared at the blonde man standing not two feet away with another large lunchbox and thermos in his hands. "Do you mind not sneaking up on me and trying to scare me into the next life?"
"Sorry, mate. I wasn't sneaking. I was out front, saw you pull around and figured I'd come back and give you a hand." Spike was frowning as he looked at him. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Huh?" Xander's heart was resuming its normal four beat cadence and he glanced down at the stained shirt. "Oh - the shirt. Small accident at the site. No biggie." He shrugged it off and hauled the plank out. "What are you doing here?"
"I brought your dinner and said I'd pop round to help. A little accident? Someone stab themselves in an artery and bleed all over you?" Spike followed him into the shop and set the lunch box and thermos down to the side. He stripped off the black leather jacket he was sporting and tossed it on the back of a still reasonably sturdy chair.
"Just had a string of bad luck today. Couple of guys getting over-excited with power tools." Xander shrugged again and tried not to wince. Sudden motions reminded the little cuts along his arms and shoulders that they needed to sting, a lot.
"Uh huh." Spike's tone was skeptical. "I'll get the rest of that lot inside. You eat. Food should still be hot."
Xander pulled his tape measure out of a pocket and scowled after the vampire. He wondered if Spike knew just how irritating he was?
Oh probably, Xander answered himself sardonically. Why else would he be hanging out with me? He ignored his own question and glanced at the lunch box. He stared at it thoughtfully as Spike passed him by with several boards stacked on one shoulder.
"Counter?" He asked.
"Yep." Xander nodded. His stomach rumbled its ascent to his own internal musings, so he pocketed the tape and wandered over to the lunchbox. Popping it open, the smell of freshly grilled onions, melted cheese and steak assaulted his senses.
Ravenous, he tore into the sandwich like a small hurricane. He saw Spike smirk as he sauntered back out to the truck and Xander resisted the urge to use a rude gesture. Working men need to eat, he reasoned. If Spike wanted to volunteer as a food caterer, well more power to him.
He licked his fingers cleaned and carried the thermos with him into the front room. The measuring tape found its way into his hand. He started with where the counter used to sit; he measured the floor area and then considered it. He could build the standard rectangle, but it made more sense to use a u shape. It would afford more counter space for specials and tagging, but it wouldn't intrude in the shops necessary space.
Yeah, that would work.
He pulled out a small notepad and jotted down the measurements along with a small sketch of his intent. Spike appeared at his shoulder and seemed to be studying the drawing in Xander's hand.
"Do you mind?" Xander asked dryly.
"Not at all. I think she'd fancy the use of that. Give her more space without taking up saleable floor space."
"And you'd know that, hmm?" He felt his mouth tighten and he turned to see Spike staring at him with a bland look. "What?"
"That's your blood, mate." Spike nodded to his shirt.
"Connoisseur?" Xander jabbed.
"No. Just smelled it enough at various points. So what kind of accident did you have that made you bleed all over like that?"
Xander shrugged. "Look, I have work to do. You going to help or you going to jabber?"
"What the hell are you two doing?" A third voice interrupted and they turned to see Giles standing framed in the new doorway to the back room. "Anyone?"