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Cicirossi
Joss Whedon is God and owns all. It's still his world, although we like to sneak in the side door and cover Xander with chocolate sauce and whipped cream when no one's looking.
Not blinking now, and Xander decided he liked the blinking better than the blank incredulity. Willow had that look. Not the resolve face, which also qualified as that look. More like the "I think I must have gone deaf because there's no way I could have heard that" look. Then it shifted into the "heard it but don't believe it" look. She finally settled on a heartfelt "whoa" sort of expression.
"Whoa."
See? "Yeah. Major whoa."
The questions bubbling up inside Willow were like a physical presence in the room. Xander could feel them. Finally, like a shaken 7-Up, she exploded.
"How did that happen? And when? Are you out of your mind? And what is it with Spike and the sleeping with him urge? I mean, he's not hot. Except in a bad boy in leather way. He's not sexy at all. Except that he is. But he was cuter wearing your clothes."
Not sure which point to address first, Xander jumped up and started pacing. "Other people want to sleep with him? Since when? And I thought I was weird, but if you think Spike in my clothes was hot, you take the crown as the queen of odd."
"Do not."
"Do too."
His next turn brought him back around to face Willow, and she was fighting a smile. Xander answered her with his own sheepish grin. Bouncing in place now, Xander continued with his story.
"Anyway, I felt sorry for him and invited him over to watch a movie because I couldn't sleep and we ended up doing touching of the naughty variety. It could be because he rented gay porn, but I'm thinking it has to be something more sinister than that."
"Spike rented gay porn and you watched it?"
"Worse, he picked it out and I paid for it."
"Wow." Willow nodded sagely. "Clearly, you're possessed. And what kind of naughty touching?"
"Hands and other manly parts best left unnamed connected."
"Oh? Oh!" Willow blushed and stuttered a bit. "We, we have to see what might be going through town. This could be serious."
"I was afraid you were going to say that."
"I'll get Buffy."
"No!" Xander shook his head violently. "I know, I know, we shouldn't keep things from her. But this is Spike we're talking about, here. She even accused me of wanting to sleep with him, once."
"Ooh, she did, didn't she?" The little crease that meant 'thinking hard' appeared between Willow's brows. "I wish I could just do a spell and see if you're spelled." At Xander's protesting sound, she flapped a hand in irritation. "I said I wish. I won't. But doing it the hard way means it will take longer. Maybe you should go home, get some sleep."
"Not sleepy." Xander bounced a bit more, just for good measure. He didn't want to just sit around and wait. There had to be something he could do. "There has to be something I can do."
"You can." Nodding decisively, Willow got up and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen. "You can write down everything you've done the last couple of days. Who you saw. What you ate. What you drank. Maybe that will give us some clues. I'll go to the Magic Box and get some books."
With a sigh, Xander sat back down at the table, pushing his orange juice further away and staring dolefully at the paper in front of him. "This seems an awful lot like homework."
With a pat on Xander's shoulder, Willow gathered up her things and made for the door. "That's what you get for calling in sick," she said, and left him sitting there, staring into space.
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