Author: Pig Pimping ::looks up briefly, then returns to licking Ye Olde TV Guide featuring the studliest genetic mix ever created::
Rating: NC-17.....If'n you aren't old enough to buy a magazine FEATURING genitals, then you probably aren't old enough to read a story about them.
Summary: B/A.. Damn you wireless carriers and your shitty connections! This one's for YOU!
Spoilers: Hmmm....Up through the last episode of AtS, all of BtVS.
Distribution/Disclaimers/Feedback: Take `em if you want `em, cause they weren't mine to begin with, but feel free to tell me how nicely I've treated them at pigpimping
Other stuff: So, the ever-so-detail-oriented Blade has pointed out that Gunn is no longer ghetto fabulous on the show. Pretend he is. :)
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**Somewhere in Los Angeles**
The dark vampire paced the rooftop frantically, stopping every now and then to glance at the cellphone in his hand and growl in frustration. Dust flew in the air as his long strides took him straight through various piles of ashes, the only remaining evidence of another hard night on the job.
Gunn stepped through the rooftop entrance of the abandoned apartment building, stopping short at the sight of an aggravated Angel randomly pushing buttons on the phone before giving a cry of disgust and throwing it over the edge of the building. Wesley and Fred came out right behind Gunn, bumping into him before stepping to either side and looking at him questioningly.
"Another one bites the dust." Gunn motioned towards Angel, who was now standing at the railing and glaring down at the remains of the expensive cellphone.
"Another? That's the fourth one this week!" Fred placed a protective hand over her own phone, hidden in her coat pocket.
Angel whirled around and jogged towards them. "Gunn. Give me your cell phone."
"No way, man." Gunn backed up until his back was flush with the closed door leading back into the complex.
"Just for a minute."
"Hey, I would, but I met this really fine ass girl I met at the club last week is supposed to call, and I can't really answer the phone if you throw it over a building." Angel rolled his eyes and started advancing on the group..
"Or run over it." Wesley thanked the gods that he'd left his phone in the car.
"Or toss it into the ocean." Fred tried to hide behind the men, hoping against hope that her own phone would be safe from such electronically devastating events, especially after she'd spent three hours that afternoon downloading her favorite ring tones.
"Fine. Nice to see such insubordination from my trusted staff." Angel shoved Gunn out of the way and stalked down the stairs, leaving the three to stare after him knowingly.
"Girl troubles, man. Can't live with `em, but then again, man cannot survive on masturbation alone."
Wesley nodded his agreement, but had the grace to look properly apologetic under the glare of the lone estrogen carrying member of their group.
"Let's go before he knocks over a Cingular stand." They traipsed slowly down the four floors, not one of them really looking forward to being cooped up in a vehicle with a pissed off Angel.
Finally, when his muscles were almost locked from exertion, he stopped, leaning his head and arm against the battered bag hanging from the ceiling.
"Problems, mate?" Angel heard the strike of a match and smelled the subsequent cloud of smoke ease over in his direction.
"Get out, Spike."
"Now, is that any way to talk to your old pal? Your best mate?" Spike faked the hurt in his voice fairly well, and put on a pouting expression.
Angel stalked towards the blond vampire until they were nearly nose to nose. He held up his right and glared at Spike, nearly growling as he spoke.
"Number one." He ticked off a finger. "No smoking in my apartment." Angel used the hand not counting of his many reasons to throw Spike out to rip the cigarette out of the vampire's mouth and put it out.
"Number two." He ticked off another finger. "You are not now, nor have you *ever* been my best mate. The biggest thorn in my side, yes. The biggest pain in my ass, yes. But I wouldn't say we've ever been friends."
Spike just rolled his eyes.
"And number three." He ticked off a third and final finger. "You should remember that you are only here as long as I ALLOW you to be here, William, so you'd do well not to piss me off."
Spike smiled slowly and knowingly. "I shoulda known, you pansy git. Lady troubles? Fluffy ignoring you? Or just not....*trusting* you anymore?"
Angel shoved Spike roughly, sending him tumbling into the wall a few feet behind him. He slid down the wall clumsily, finally sitting awkwardly on the floor and chuckling.
"Got it in one, eh Peaches? Yeah, overheard the watcher repeating the whole conversation between you and that little fuck Andrew this morning. Good to know Buffy finally came to her senses." Spike pushed himself off the floor and, with a little more pep in his step than when he had entered, headed for the door.
"Be seeing you, Angelus. And, by the by, you might want to work on your hospitality towards your guests. Miss Manners would be horrified."
He exited quickly, barely dodging the airborne lamp that was on a collision course with his bleached skull.
Angel sighed wearily and walked over to the shattered remains of the lamp, picking up the pieces and tossing them in the garbage. He'd been trying to call Buffy for the past week, but every single damn cell phone on the planet seemed cursed the minute it fell into his undead hands. He couldn't get good reception if his redemption depended on it, and every time he'd tried to call Buffy's phone or hotel from land lines, he got a busy signal or a voice mail message.
He wasn't sure what irritated him more; That Andrew had practically shouted that Buffy no longer trusted him, or that the annoying little fuck got to be around her, and he was stuck here waiting pathetically for a phone call, an email, anything.
He tried to console himself with the fact that maybe he'd misunderstood the boy, maybe Buffy hadn't called in so long because she was swamped with rounding up all the newly-made Slayers and teaching them how to survive. But that nagging voice deep down, the one that made him want to curl up into a ball under his desk until the Jets won the Superbowl, insisted that she had PLENTY of time to call. She just didn't want to.
Angel kicked that little voice into submission and reached for his cordless, dialing the number he'd memorized by heart. He heard a few click, then a ring.
And then, the dreaded feminine voice that rattled off the message he'd grown to loathe almost as much as his arrogant GrandChilde rang loud and clear across the line.
"The wireless customer you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try your call again later."
He slammed the phone down into the cradle and headed back to the punching bag.
*****Somewhere in Rome*****
Buffy shook the phone with aggravation, cursing under her breath as she walked in circles around the room.
Xander looked on curiously and nudged Willow, who looked up questioningly from the book she'd had her nose buried in for hours.
"What's she doing?"
Xander shrugged at her question and popped another chip in his mouth.
"Could be anything. She's either trying to pull a Superman and reverse the earth's rotation, or......"
"Or trying to get a damn signal, which is apparently useless in the middle of nowhere!" Buffy moaned in frustration and threw the phone against the wall. Metal and plastic showered down onto the carpet of the small inn they'd found days earlier; Apparently the only lodging within a hundred miles on either direction, according to the innkeeper. Well, he'd either said that or they could milk the cows on Tuesday, but only if they wore helmets. She didn't ACTUALLY speak Italian, and these people talked WAY too fast to use the little `Italian to English' dictionary she'd bought at the airport.
"My, my, little lady, you kiss your watcher with that mouth?" Xander dodged the pillow thrown at his head, ducking down and allowing it to smack Willow in the face instead.
"Do you think we could have one day where you *aren't* completely disgusting?" Buffy huffed and marched over to sit beside Willow, who glared and raised the pillow threateningly but allowed her to take a seat.
"Do you think we could have one day where you aren't trying to call Dead Boy and profess your undying looooooove?" Xander batted his eyelashes and raised a hand to his forehead, pretending to swoon.
Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. "That's NOT why I'm calling him. I'm just trying to do a little damage control since Andrew is a complete spaz."
"His status a an asshat notwithstanding, why are you really so desperate to call Angel?" Willow raised her eyebrows at her dearest friend, and waited patiently for an answer.
"No reason." Buffy slid down into the couch as far as she could, avoiding their eyes and staring into space.
"Buffy." She still stared anywhere but at Xander, who continued. "Buffy, look at me. Look deeeeep into my eyes."
"No." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared fixedly at the wall.
"What's the big deal? So you still have the hots for the guy. So what? I'm still strangely aroused by She-Ra, but you don't see Willow giving me a hard time about it."
Willow snorted and let loose with a stream of giggles. "Oh, but I will now. This ranks right up there with your footie pajamas."
"I'm trying to make a point here, friend of friends, and you`re not helping. Look, Buffy. You guys have history. You still want to make the naked pretzel? Go for it! Who are we to judge?"
Buffy sat bolt upright in mock surprise. "Is this the same Xander Harris who was behind an Angel intervention for me when he came back from Hell? The SAME Xander who has hated Angel since the day you met him?"
He placed a hand on his chest in shock. "Oh ye of little faith! I am a changed man, Buffy! I've turned over a new leaf! Mended my ways and adopted a new, more Angel-positive outlook!"
Willow still his ramblings with an upheld hand. "What Xander is trying to say is that well, frankly, you're getting really testy and cranky. We think you need to get laid."
"Willow!"
"Which is why......" She trailed off, dragging the suspense out for all it was worth. "We've found a way for you to get laid. With Angel. And not make him lose his soul and kill us all."
Buffy just stared at them, her expression blank.
Xander waited a whole minute, and after noticing she didn't blink the whole time, waved a hand in front of her eyes.
"I think she's in shock, Will."
Willow hopped up and headed to the small kitchenette. "I'll start the coffee."
`Just one more night I'd like to lie and hold you, yes and feel. To make you smile I'd like to be there for you. Have you forgotten me?'
Stevie Nicks, "If You Ever Did Believe"
******One Week Later, Los Angeles*******
Angel's scowling expression as he ascended the steps to the penthouse would have been enough to frighten even the fiercest demon into submission. It was not, however, enough to make his newest cellphone do anything but click loudly in his ear when he attempted trans- atlantic phone calls.
He started taking the steps two at a time, growling loudly as he snapped the phone shut and ground his teeth together. He was swiftly deciding to dispose of the phone by burial at sea. Well, burial by 2000 Flushes, but who was he to argue semantics at a time like this?
All thoughts of toilets and swirling aqualine water faded from his mind as his front door came into view. There, slouched over a carry- on bag and drooling on her jacket/pillow, was the very woman he'd been torturing electronic equipment over for the past two weeks. He couldn't stop the wistful smile from stealing over his face as he just stood there, drinking in the view. He leaned against the doorframe, just staring down at the sleeping Slayer until a loud snore erupted from the tiny beauty.
Angel chuckled and fished his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door quietly then leaning down and gently picking up the still- slumbering Buffy. He kicked her bag into the penthouse in front of him, then carried her over the threshold and into the living area. After depositing her carefully onto the couch, he set to work turning on the scattered lamps throughout his apartment.
A quick tour of his bedroom to check for tidiness, and a pit stop in the bathroom for a brush-n-floss later, he returned to the living room to find Buffy rubbing her bleary eyes and smoothing the hair that flowed down her back.
She stilled, then turned her head swiftly to meet his eyes.
"Angel." That sweet little smile that had always accompanied his name snuck across her lips, and she sighed softly.
"Buffy." He smiled in return, and crossed the room to sit on the sofa arm on the opposite end of the couch.
They sat in companiable silence for a moment, content just to stare at each other, until her smiled turned decidedly wicked.
"You know, I *did* take the red-eye to come and see you, Angel. You could at least act like you're happy to see me." And there it was, the secret weapon, the pout to end all pouts, and aimed directly at his heart. Knowing what she wanted, he sat all the way down onto the sofa cushion and held his arms out in invitation. There was no hesitation as she dove into his waiting arms, and he couldn't help but claim her lips in a passion-filled kiss that served as an outlet for all of the confusion, irritation, loneliness, and longing that colored the years without her by his side.
Buffy broke the kiss off moments later, pressing her forehead against his as she panted for breath.
"Well, that's a definite `happy to see you' in my book." She sat back slightly, studying his eyes intently.
"You could say that." And he was, overwhelmed and delirious with the warmth of her presence, and yet there was still the lingering doubt at even having her there after Andrew's outburst weeks ago.
"Angel." Her voice was quiet and commanding, and he had to fight not to look away as she placed her hands on either side of his face. "I came to tell you something really important. Well, two things really."
There was that other shoe, ready to smack him right in the ass. He'd wondered when it was coming.
He remained silent, and so she continued. "The first thing.....I know Andrew said some things to you, some things that probably hurt you more than he could have realized."
"Buffy...." She placed a finger to his lips, and slowly brought it away.
"No. Just let me finish. After all we've been through, Angel, how could you believe that I don't trust you?"
Angel couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice as he responded. "After all we've been through, Buffy, how could you trust me? I've hurt you more times than I care to think about, I up and left you and broke both of our hearts, you fucking DIED and I wasn't even there, and then I see and *hear* about whose arms that drove you into, and .........."
She rose up, sliding over to sit astride his lap. "Stop. Just stop. I see this is clearly a topic you've devoted some quality brooding time to, so I hate to burst your bubble like this, but you know what? What I remember most about our time together, Angel, isn't the hurt or the heartbreak or the sorrow. It's that in the five years since you left me, and left Sunnydale, no one has ever loved me the way you did. No one has ever made me feel that safe, or accepted me for who I am instead of who they want me to be. And just the memory of you makes me love you just as much now as I did then. When I told you in the sewer that night that I didn't know I got a choice about loving you, I meant it. It's not something I've outgrown. And also, just to be all equal-opportunity about this, I think I did my fair share of hurting you."
Angel opened his mouth to argue, but she shushed him again. "Let me also just say, for the record, that Andrew is a huge moron. If you didn't realize that within five minutes of meeting him, well, Mr. Bad Ass Vampire, your powers of perception aren't what they used to be. And while I may not trust this law firm and the `senior partners' or whoever the hell thinks they can give you orders and you'll just jump, I do trust you. I trust you to make the right decisions and to help people, and not to let them corrupt you the way they have so many others."
"Been doing some research?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Please. Willow is like, so far past the title of Net Girl now that it's just insulting to call her that. The Net is Willow's bitch." She smiled at the soft chuckle that escaped from the otherwise somber vampire.
He smoothed his hands up and down her back slowly, absorbing everything she'd just said.
"So what's the OTHER important thing you had to tell me?"
Buffy reached her hands behind his head and toyed with the hairs at the nape of his neck, batting her eyes at him girlishly.
"Well, I don't know. You may not be ready for such earth-shattering news. This is, like, a major whammy."
She squirmed on his lap as he brought his thumbs up to barely brush the edges of her breasts with each upstroke. The one thing she'd left out of her little speech earlier, the one OTHER thing she remembered from being with Angel, was that he could get her hot with just a look. A fact which he was probably aware of before, but surely had to be now. After all, the guy WAS a predator.
"Buffy." He growled her name, dragging it out.
"Well, here's the thing. You know how Willow's like, Witch Supremo? Well, apparently she and Xander have had a little plot going since Sunnydale became California's very own Grand Canyon. It's all very secretive and scandalous. So last week they......"
She was cut off by the apartment's front door being thrown open, and an all-too-familiar bleached blonde ambling in, trademark smokes in one hand and whiskey in the other.
"Well, now, Peaches, if I'd known you had company I'd have.......Buffy? Is that you, pet?"
Angel's arms tightened instinctively, and she reluctantly turned her head to face what was, by far, the most obnoxious skeleton in her closet.
"Hi, Spike." There was more than a note of `this is no time for reunions, so get the hell out of here' in her voice, which Spike noticed but chose to ignore.
"Well, come on now, give us a hug!" Buffy rolled her eyes at his sugary tone and remained on Angel's lap, something which appeared to incense the blond vampire even more than the initial shock of finding her there in the first place.
"Spike, can we save that for tomorrow? I'm kinda busy here."
Spike paced slowly around the room. "So I see. That's how it is then, eh? He leaves you high and dry, I pick up the pieces, and it's `save it for tomorrow', is it? No much for gratitude, are you, love?" He took a swig of the whiskey and put his cigarette out on Angel's coffee table.
"What's he got that I haven't got, eh? I've got looks, I'm a much better dresser, oh, and then there's that small little CURSE thing that means you two can't make the beast with two backs. Or have you forgotten?"
Buffy climbed out of Angel's lap angrily. "Don't play the hurt routine with me, Spike. We both know that you and Angel were never in the same league. I know I used you, and I'm sorry for it, but you knew exactly what was going on. And it JUST SO HAPPENS that I came here to tell Angel in person that we found a way to fix that small little CURSE thing, so if you don't mind, we'd like some privacy!"
Angel leapt off the couch, his mouth hanging open in shock. "What? Who did....Huh?"
She turned to him apologetically. "This wasn't really how I meant to tell you, but SOME people can't leave well enough alone and need a huge dose of reality to get a point across."
"So what? You're just going to make like nothing ever happened and shag 24-7 because you can?" Spike was genuinely surprised now.
Buffy crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. "I sure as hell didn't fly that many hours to have tea and crackers!"
The two were at a stand-off, shooting daggers at each other with their eyes as Angel took a seat on the sofa again, feeling numb and confused and more than a little excited by the doors that had just been opened to him.
Spike finally ended the staring match, his leather coat swirling around him as he stomped angrily to the front door. "Fine then. I know when I'm not wanted. And when he breaks your heart again, pet, don't come crying to me." The door slammed firmly shut, and Buffy turned sheepishly towards Angel.
"Explain." He only seemed capable of one-word sentences, which was understandable to say the least. Buffy took her former position on his lap, and grinned down at him.
"Well, apparently all work and no sex makes me a very grumpy Slayer, so Xander and Willow did a little research on their own. Turns out we just need to do a little binding ritual. Willow said she really felt stupid that she hadn't thought of it before, and then Xander shoved two plane tickets and the stuff for the ritual at me, and here I am."
"Oh." The part of his brain controlling coherent thought processes had shut down minutes before, a situation complicated further by the very object of all his fantasies sitting right there in his lap.
Buffy looked a little crestfallen, taking his lack of response as disinterest. She slid over to sit beside him, chewing on her lower lip out of newfound nervousness. She'd never dreamed he wouldn't be interested anymore.
"Well....I mean, I'm not saying that you HAVE to sleep with me, Angel. It's not like a requirement for me binding your soul." She sighed sadly. "Maybe it was silly of me to come here. I just thought that maybe..."
This shook him out of his daze. "Are you CRAZY? When can we do it? The binding, I mean. Well, the other two, but I'm assuming one has to come before the other, yes?"
She giggled and got up, walking over to the bag she'd brought with her.
"Let's get it on!"
*************************
A few latin incantations, some incense, and some very smelly salve later, Buffy sat waiting impatiently on Angel's sofa. She could hear his off-key whistling in the shower as he scrubbed off the offensive but necessary gook.
Not able to sit still any longer, she got up, wandering aimlessly from room to room, stopping to touch both old items and new until she finally came to the bedroom. She wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. After all, this was a lot of pressure. She groaned quietly. This was NOT the time for performance anxiety. Should she be naked, waiting for him in his bed? Maybe he wouldn't WANT to do it in the bed right off. She sat, bouncing lightly on the mattress as she ran her hands over the ridiculously expensive silk sheets.
The door to the bathroom opened, and a gust of steam preceded an almost-naked Angel clutching a towel around his waist as he entered the room. Buffy licked her suddenly dry lips and prayed desperately to whomever was listening that his towel would suddenly spontaneously combust. Well, no, that was bad, vampires plus fire equaled never good, but surely something could happen to it. Someone could run by with scissors, or something, and tragically, the towel would be gone.
Angel seemed equally stunned at the sight of her on his bed. Really, he would have blushed if he possessed that ability, given the many lascivious thoughts he'd had about her on that bed, in that bed, and around that bed. All of which consistently had her wearing less clothes than she was right now, but he'd take what he could get.
"Hey." He spoke quietly, approaching the bed, and just when she thought he was about to push her back onto it and remove her clothing with his teeth, he went to his dresser.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting some boxers. I don't generally walk around naked. As you can see, people tend to just barge in when they feel like it." He turned and opened a drawer, reaching in for a pair, when the drawer was slammed shut.
"That, sir, is a habit we're going to have to break. And to be honest, putting anything on right now would really be wasting energy you could be expending...elsewhere." He tried to put on a scandalized expression, but failed miserably.
"Should I be afraid for my virtue?"
Buffy pulled off the t-shirt she'd been wearing and popped the button on her jeans, then reclined back against the pillows. "No, but if you don't lose that towel, someone may get hurt."
Torn between ripping the lacy bra she'd revealed from her body right then, and a little more playfulness, he decided to compromise. He dropped the towel to the floor, revealing his steadily rising erection to her gaze, and climbed onto the bed. He slid one strap of her bra down, following the path of the material with gentle kisses.
Buffy caught her breath; Tender though his kisses were, they still enflamed her like nothing else. She wrapped her jean clad legs around his hips and threaded her arms around his neck, pulling his face up for a carnal kiss. Their tongues tangled and explored, rediscovering sorely missed territory. His hands roamed her body, palming a breast roughly before sliding down to tease the skin just above the waistline of the rough denim.
Angel pulled back, working her jeans and panties down her hips as quickly as his preternatural speed would allow before resuming his previous position in the cradle of thighs, rubbing himself lightly along her wet folds.
"Angel." His name was a breathy invocation on her lips, and she tossed her head back from the sheer pleasure of his touch as he quickly removed her bra and latched onto a hardened nipple. He suckled fervently as his hand teased her other breast mercilessly, quickly turning her into a mindless, moaning mass of quivering flesh. He licked his way down her stomach, stopping just above her wet core to wink at her before plunging his tongue into her.
Buffy's cry of pleasure was nearly drowned out by Angel's at his first taste of her in years. He was like a crazed man, desperate to taste every inch of her, of this haven that had brought him the only true happiness he'd ever known. He ran his tongue up to her clit, flicking it back and forth across the little bud until she was bucking her hips restlessly into his face, begging him to give her release. He slid a finger into her, his eyes nearly crossing as she clamped down on the digit, and realizing how much he wanted to be inside her as soon as possible. He suckled her tender flesh in time with his thrusting finger until she wailed loudly, her fingers tightening in his hair and her body contracting endlessly.
Angel slid up her body, only to be flipped onto his back and pinned to the mattress by his blonde Slayer.
Buffy leaned forward and kissed him fiercely, brushing the tips of her breasts against his chest and sliding against his achingly hard cock. She leaned back slightly to take him in her hand, still panting from her release as she stroked him firmly. He slammed his head back, panting himself at the pleasure of her hands on him, little hands that could bring such pleasure, and such pain.
She crawled slowly down his body, taking the same tongue-guided tour he had until she was even with his erection. He picked his head up and met her eyes, nearly coming right then as she stared lustily at him, taking him into her hot mouth slowly. She wrapped both hands around his girth and stroked in rhythm with the suction of her mouth, moaning at the taste of him.
"Oh god. Buffy, you gotta stop. I'm gonna..."
Buffy stopped and giggled at the panic in his voice. "It's been so long, Angel. I want to taste you."
"Wanna be...." he couldn't contain the groan as she licked the underside of his shaft, tickling the vein with her tongue and sucking even harder. "Inside you, baby, please."
She moaned her agreement, breaking the seal of her mouth on his cock but continuing to caress him with her hands. "You will be, baby, just let me do this. Come for me."
Angel could do nothing but let go; To give over to the warm, wet heaven of her mouth as she worked him. All too soon, his body corded in orgasm as he spilled into her mouth. She cleaned him thoroughly, not willing to let one drop of him escape from her seeking tongue, then crawled back up his body to relax on his chest.
"That was....."
"Fucking amazing?" His astounded reply and corresponding expression prompted a laughing fit, which appeared infectious as he was soon chuckling right along with her.
"I was going to say 'good for starters', but that works for me, too." She shrieked as he growled and attacked, holding her to his body tightly as he kissed her face, ears, then moved down to suckle the sweet flesh of her neck.
"You're right, I'd say it's time for the main course." He rolled them so that he was on top of her again, and thrust his rapily hardening cock against her slick core.
"Angel....Mmmm, I love you." He stilled, bringing his hand up to brush her hair out of her face and kissing her gently.
"I love you, too." She smiled, and rocked her hips against his.
"I think now would be the PERFECT time to show me, don't you?"
**************The next morning****************
Gunn, Wesley, and Fred gathered around the conference room table, staring at the large box sitting in the center.
"What is it?" Fred looked at the other two, who shook their heads in confusion.
"Earplugs, people, and lots of 'em." Xander and Willow strode into the room, and Xander removed the large plastic bag inside to illustrate. He shoved them towards the LA Crew, allowing them to examine the hundreds of thousands of yellow, bullet shaped plugs.
"Xander, Willow, how nice to see you. I take it our...plan worked out well, then?" Wesley smiled at the two Sunnydale High alumni and shot a glance towards the ceiling, knowing now that they probably wouldn't see Angel all day.
"What's up with these, man?" Gunn motioned to the bags still on the table.
"Industrial strength, my friend, and you're gonna need 'em." Xander shot a look at Willow, who looked at the three across the table with something akin to pity.
"And how!"
"Now," Xander said, taking a seat and tenting his fingers in front of his mouth, "let's talk vampire/slayer timeshare."
The End