"Spike!"
Xander's voice is raspy and strained, almost trembling, possibly due to his reclined position. He's lying in bed, head buried deep in the fluffed-up pillows, soft sheets covering his prone form, all tired out.
His head is turning, however, eyes focusing on the night stand next to the bed-- or, to be more precise, on the steaming Bob the Builder mug placed just next to his head--
quite a feat, considering the night stand is practically breaking under the weight of the...well, *stuff*.
Huge bags of cheap candy from the 7/11 battle the soft lotion-infused tissues for dominance, a bunch of flowers-- the roses among them looking suspiciously like the ones usually gracing Mrs. Henry's priced bushes next door-- tied with a string looming over a bag of brown and orange M&Ms, and, right in the middle of it all, several boxes of different lozenges besieging a thermometer.
The look on Xander's face speaks of confusion.
When Spike enters, hair tousled and slightly damp so that the curls are trying to make an appearance, his raised eyebrow is exasperation incorporated.
He follows Xander's gaze.
"What?! Brought what you asked for, didn't I?"
"But...I just wanted some tea."
The sound coming from Spikes throat sounds suspiciously English: All polite patience and less-polite condescension.
His words are slightly less subtle.
"Wanker like you just can't appreciate a proper cuppa."
Xander blinks. If possible, he looks even more astonished.
"No! I do. It's good. Flavoured. Count Whatshisname, even. With real milk. And thick pieces of brown sugar."
Spike shrugs.
"Can't stand what passes for tea in these parts, is all."
Now, a frown, determined and cool.
"Letting it get to your head, huh? Never trust *that* part of your body, Harris."
Something like a beam of light flits over Xander's face. Might just be the reflection from the bright silver-and-black feng-shui-or-other chimes Spike hung over his bed (muttering something that sounded a bit like 'Magic Box Halloween Sale', 'just out of pity for Anya', and 'positive bloody energies').
"So, in England, you always serve three kinds of cookies, too?"
Spike has now reached the glaring stage.
"*Biscuits*. They do. Tradition, all that rot. Gotta fly the Union Jack sometimes, sodding colonial I've practically become."
Xander nods carefully. There is a very, very demure twinkle in his eyes.
"And you're taking over sick duty just because Buffy asked you to, right?"
'Aghast' doesn't really come close to describing Spike's reaction.
"Are you daft?! Do I look like her butt monkey, monkey boy?"
However, he calms down. Visibly so. Very much so. Oh, yes.
"Just passing the time. Nothing on telly, anyway, just those stupid Halloween specials. Vampire here-- hate that. Trick or bloody treat all the time."
Spike gives Xander a suspicious look, followed by something that could be described as an evil smirk. If you didn't look too hard, of course.
"'sides, it's good to have the chance to annoy someone, you know? You used to be the biggest pain in the ass, Harris; this is just payback. Call me the Annoying One."
A smile crinkles the corners of Xander's mouth.
"Spike?"
"What?!"
"If I told you this is embarrassing the hell out of me, would you stay for the rest of the week?"
Xander's voice is raspy and strained, almost trembling, possibly due to his reclined position. He's lying in bed, head buried deep in the fluffed-up pillows, soft sheets covering his prone form, all tired out.
His head is turning, however, eyes focusing on the night stand next to the bed-- or, to be more precise, on the steaming Bob the Builder mug placed just next to his head--
quite a feat, considering the night stand is practically breaking under the weight of the...well, *stuff*.
Huge bags of cheap candy from the 7/11 battle the soft lotion-infused tissues for dominance, a bunch of flowers-- the roses among them looking suspiciously like the ones usually gracing Mrs. Henry's priced bushes next door-- tied with a string looming over a bag of brown and orange M&Ms, and, right in the middle of it all, several boxes of different lozenges besieging a thermometer.
The look on Xander's face speaks of confusion.
When Spike enters, hair tousled and slightly damp so that the curls are trying to make an appearance, his raised eyebrow is exasperation incorporated.
He follows Xander's gaze.
"What?! Brought what you asked for, didn't I?"
"But...I just wanted some tea."
The sound coming from Spikes throat sounds suspiciously English: All polite patience and less-polite condescension.
His words are slightly less subtle.
"Wanker like you just can't appreciate a proper cuppa."
Xander blinks. If possible, he looks even more astonished.
"No! I do. It's good. Flavoured. Count Whatshisname, even. With real milk. And thick pieces of brown sugar."
Spike shrugs.
"Can't stand what passes for tea in these parts, is all."
Now, a frown, determined and cool.
"Letting it get to your head, huh? Never trust *that* part of your body, Harris."
Something like a beam of light flits over Xander's face. Might just be the reflection from the bright silver-and-black feng-shui-or-other chimes Spike hung over his bed (muttering something that sounded a bit like 'Magic Box Halloween Sale', 'just out of pity for Anya', and 'positive bloody energies').
"So, in England, you always serve three kinds of cookies, too?"
Spike has now reached the glaring stage.
"*Biscuits*. They do. Tradition, all that rot. Gotta fly the Union Jack sometimes, sodding colonial I've practically become."
Xander nods carefully. There is a very, very demure twinkle in his eyes.
"And you're taking over sick duty just because Buffy asked you to, right?"
'Aghast' doesn't really come close to describing Spike's reaction.
"Are you daft?! Do I look like her butt monkey, monkey boy?"
However, he calms down. Visibly so. Very much so. Oh, yes.
"Just passing the time. Nothing on telly, anyway, just those stupid Halloween specials. Vampire here-- hate that. Trick or bloody treat all the time."
Spike gives Xander a suspicious look, followed by something that could be described as an evil smirk. If you didn't look too hard, of course.
"'sides, it's good to have the chance to annoy someone, you know? You used to be the biggest pain in the ass, Harris; this is just payback. Call me the Annoying One."
A smile crinkles the corners of Xander's mouth.
"Spike?"
"What?!"
"If I told you this is embarrassing the hell out of me, would you stay for the rest of the week?"