By Devil Piglet
Disclaimer: All characters of ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ are used without permission.
Author’s Notes: In response to the Spike/Xander Roommate Call For Fic. Thanks to everyone who's contributed so far. If you'd like to participate, please view the guidelines and then go wild!
Feedback: Reviews are welcome: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Instead, as he kicked the door shut behind him, he was rewarded with the vision of his sometime roommate engaged in all the pleasures that a life of leisure afforded. Xander ground his teeth.
Spike was stretched lengthwise on his sofa, watching his brand-new flat panel TV and drinking his last bottle of Corona.
“Hey, you!” Xander snapped. Spike didn’t respond. “You, with the soul! That’s right, pal,” he said angrily as Spike slowly turned his head in Xander’s direction. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Spike looked from Xander to the remote control in his left hand and the beverage in his other, seemingly unsure whether this was a trick question.
“Don’t,” Xander groused, as Spike opened his mouth. “Don’t give me that blank-faced-‘I’ve-got-a-soul-now-and-I’m-j
“As a matter of fact,” Spike began.
“I was speaking figuratively,” Xander muttered. He went into the kitchen, hoping to find a leftover can of Miller Lite from his father’s last visit.
“Spike!” he shouted. “You didn’t close the refrigerator door!”
He counted to ten, then returned to the living room with the only cold beverage currently available – a bottle of Mystic Pink Grapefruit Splash Diet Snapple.
Spike gave him, and the drink, a once over as Xander stood before him. “Nice choice,” he said blandly. “But don’t you think that Pink Grapefruit is just a little bit ga –"
“Don’t say it!” Xander exploded. “Do. Not. Say. It.” He kicked Spike’s legs aside and settled on the other end of the couch. “I’ve had the day from Hell – and considering we spent all afternoon reinforcing the girders on the new Sunnydale High gymnasium, I’m speaking very literally. I’m tired, I’m sweaty, every fabric of my clothing is covered in dust or three-year-old Mayor Wilkins remains, and all I want to do is watch ‘Beat The Geeks’ in peace. Okay?”
Spike nodded agreeably. Xander grabbed the remote and changed the station.
“What the…” he mumbled after a moment.
“’Primetime Glick’,” Spike supplied helpfully. “They moved ‘Geeks’ to eleven o’clock.”
Xander closed his eyes, tried some of those deep-breathing techniques he’d been reading up on lately. “All right,” he said finally. “That’s all right. I can stay up.”
“Eleven o’clock on Sundays,” Spike added. He raised an eyebrow as the credits rolled. “Oh, my. Tonight’s guest star is Andy Dick.”
The deep-breathing exercises weren’t working. Xander watched his knuckles whiten around the juice bottle. He started surfing channels desperately.
“Oi!” Spike shouted presently. “Go back to that one.”
“We are not watching ‘Real Sex’! That’s gross.” Xander craned his neck as he glimpsed the acrobatic couple on the screen. “Especially that.”
“’S not ‘gross’. It’s a beautiful thing, done properly.” Spike eyed the scene appraisingly.
“It’s icksome, and probably illegal in fifteen states.”
“You know, with an attitude like that I’m amazed you ever even managed to –“
“Don’t say it!”
Spike snickered; it was the first genuine humor he'd exhibited in days. “Fine. But you’ve gone through the entire sodding cable lineup, twice. Face it, mate – it’s either this or the Oxygen Channel.”
Defeated, Xander handed Spike the remote and dropped his head in his hands. “Tell me when there are lesbians,” he muttered.