Summary: Xander Harris had a weird dream last night...at least, he hopes so.
Word Count: 300
A/N: for slashthedrabble, challenge: Oops. Also for my Friday Night Prompting Poll.
Xander shifts in his chair; he can't find a comfortable position, and the soreness in his ass does not bode well for the theory that the wild monkey sex he dreamed about having with a certain tall and broody and male vampire last night is, in fact, a dream.
He's been sifting through Giles' moldy books for an hour, looking for possible sources of man-sex-having demon possession, when Willow runs in.
Buffy exits the training room, wiping the sweat from her forehead with a towel. "What's up, Will?"
"Buffy, I know you're lonely, especially after that Parker mess and all, but really, don't you think you ought to know better?" Willow's wringing her hands, concerned-face firmly in place.
"Willow, I…have no idea what you're talking about? Care to share?"
"Well, I mean…Buffymyfisharedead!" she blurts out, finally.
"What? You mean…?"
"I mean, I know you love him and all, but I thought giving Angel a happy was very obviously in the not-in-a-million-years category. Not that, of course, Angel can't be happy, just you know, not perfectly happy, which is kinda the reason he left, isn't it?"
"Willow, I didn't…I mean…Angel's happy has been very, very far away…that is, there has been no happy-making for the Buffy. None, whatsoever. Well, none of the Angel variety anyways."
Buffy shakes her head.
"Then I wonder—"
"Doesn't matter," Buffy interrupts, face grim, "we need to go tell Giles."
Worried-face to the fore, Willow follows Buffy out the front door of the Magic Shop.
Xander groans, his head hitting the table with a loud thump. Not a dream, then.
He shuts yet another book with a thump; demon possession isn't looking likely.
The tenderness in his ass gives a particularly vindictive throb; Buffy's never going to let him live this down.
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