Xander woke weary and tired to the sounds of quiet feet across the carpet, the sounds of Giles getting ready for the day. He wasn't really sure when his body had trained itself to get up when it became aware of the librarian, but for the last month or so that was what he had been doing. He twisted on his bed, stretching peaceably from head to toe and careful not the thump the cast against the wall. He sat up slowly, looked at the alarm clock on Spike's little makeshift table of milk crates. It read eight forty-five, which was the latest Xander thought Giles ever slept in.

The shower turned on, barely audible through the well insulated walls, but there. Xander stayed in his bed, glanced at the television that had lulled him back to sleep last night. It was off. Spike must have fallen asleep after him.

He glanced over at his roommate, taking in his sleeping form. Awake, Spike was a whirlwind of picking, teasing, and smirking. He seemed to have an inability to stay still even when seated, his ringed fingers always drumming, his leg jiggling. Asleep, he was still, really still, like dead still. Xander had to watch him for a few seconds before he even noticed a slight elevation in his chest, signifying his breathing.

Spike was also softer in sleep. The sharpness of his face was still there, but the cheekbones lost some of their edge, his lips relaxed, and with his hair un-gelled and slightly curled, he looked somewhat approachable and really quite beautiful in a pale, fallen angel sort of way.

Xander found his eyes running over the other man's body. He was a mass of coiled muscles, even visible under the loose—and that was a kind term—shirt and pajama bottoms. Despite that he wasn't bulky; he was actually slim, almost petite. Compact came to mind. He would fit nicely against—

The shower turned off almost the second Xander pushed those thoughts away with an angry flush rising onto his face. He wasn't supposed to think like that. Those thoughts went in a special, non-descript little box in the back of his mind where no one but he could look at them and only when he was completely sure he was alone. He wasn't allowed to think those thoughts anywhere people might be around because he might do or say something stupid. Everyone knew he had a long history of it.

More movement around in the hall and Xander pulled himself out of bed, chastisement mostly over, but punctuated with short, ferocious shakes of his head. Opening the door, he just barely caught the top of Giles' damp hair as it disappeared down the stairs. He was kind of relieved; having a slight paranoia that Giles would be able to see the thoughts he tried to keep hidden the box. He went to the shower, grabbing a towel from the wrack and hopping in. Joyce had left a box of saran wrap on the sink counter so his cast wouldn't get wet. It was a bit difficult wrapping his arm by himself, but after a month and a half, he was almost flawless at it.

After burning half of his skin off and perhaps melting the other half, he realized had forgotten something very important.

Clothing.

Cursing under his breath, he peeked out the bathroom door and made a run for Spike's room, towel held firmly around his hips. He shut the door with a silent click, blessing whatever gods there were that the girls didn't seem to be up and milling around. He reached under the bed carefully and pulled out the first bag he touched. Opening it with one hand was a bit of a challenge since his fingers were still a bit wet, and as he struggled with it, a sleep-thick British accent spoke from behind him.

"Like the new apparel, Whelp." Xander didn't yelp. He really didn't as he spun around, clutching his towel in a death grip. Spike had a small smirk playing on his lips as he muttered, "Bit Spartan, but th' look suits ya."

Xander stared at the slitted eyes, his mouth hanging open and hand grasping at his towel. "You're supposed to be asleep!" he told the other man, watching as that smirk grew.

"I am," he muttered, his eyes closing for a moment as he took a deep breath. "S'all just a dream, pet. Don't you worry 'bout it."

The endearment sent a thrill through him, but he ignored it, sending it to the little non-descript box. He grabbed his clothes and high-tailed it to the bathroom again, just barely shutting the door before he heard Buffy's bedroom door open. He pulled on his clothes as fast as he could, pulling over a loose tee-shirt just as a knock came on the door.

Willow stood there, looking still mostly asleep. She was usually a morning person, but Xander would bet money that he didn't have that she and Buffy had done an all nighter, using the time for girl talk, boy-drooling, and discussing things they couldn't while Xander was around. She was just up for a run to the potty.

"Hey, Wills. Lemme just get around you…" He half-danced around her so that she could stumble in to the somewhat still foggy room, closing the door behind him when it looked like she wouldn't.

After a quick moment, he gathered his wits about him and headed downstairs. Giles was at the table, a book in hand and a mug of tea at his elbow. He took his seat directly next to him, not bothering to grab something to eat just yet. He looked at Giles for a moment, until green eyes glanced up at him. "Morning, Xander."

He smiled. "Morning, G-man," he said. "Whatcha doing?"

"I'm catching up on some teaching etiquette." Xander frowned. He had almost forgotten that Giles would be starting a summer teaching position at the local college. "What are you, er…up to?"

"Getting ready for the day," he said with a shrug, leaning further down into his chair.

"Oh yes, that's right. You'll be joining the girls on the way to the mall, correct?" Giles asked, taking a sip of his tea. He had set his book down to focus on Xander, which always kind of…shocked him for some reason. Then suddenly, Giles shook himself. "You'll need spending money," he said, more to himself than anyone else as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and then reached in for a few bills. As he handed the money over, he said, "I would think sixty would be enough."

Xander shook his head. He hadn't done anything to deserve that. "Nah, Giles. I'll just go window shopping."

"Don't be ridiculous, Xander. I'm sure there will be something that catches your attention." He jabbed the money in his direction with a look that said 'take it before I stuff it in your mouth.'

Xander reached out for the proffered cash, taking it hesitantly. "Thanks, G-man. I'll, uh, I'll pay you back…" He stared at the bills in his hand before shoving them into his cargo pants.

Giles looked at him over the rim of his glasses. "I will pretend that was a joke."

He lifted his book up again, taking another sip of his tea. Xander stood up, a bit disoriented as he searched for food. He was really sad that Joyce was at work and wouldn't be able to make her famous waffles, but he figured he shouldn't whine since she was letting him stay at her house, free of charge.

When he had finished his bowl of cereal, Giles grabbed his book and they moved into the living room, where Xander turned on some cartoons, and they resumed their silent companionship.