Title: A Week in the (Un)Life Of… 2/5
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG-13 for now
Feedback/Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Summary: Tuesday night is kitten poker night
Notes: Written for stagesoflove 2006, Round 3, 'Five Days' #2 - Tuesday.
Stage #1 Monday.
Tuesday night is kitten poker night. Xander usually comes home from work, showers and spends a frenzied hour or so between the sheets with his horny vampire and then it's Spike's turn to shower before he strides out for an evening of alcohol, cards and baby felines. It's not exactly normal, but it works for them.
This Tuesday is different.
Xander unlocks the apartment and slips inside, then closes the door behind him and leans back in stunned confusion. Spike is vacuuming.
"Please tell me Drusilla hasn't decided to pay a maternal visit. I don't handle parental disapproval all that well."
Spike scowls and keeps on vacuuming.
"Ah… Spike? Want to clue me in here, buddy? If Queen Crazy isn't about to descend on us, trailing dolls and ribbons - why are you cleaning?"
The majority of Spike's muttered reply is lost beneath the electrical whine of over-stressed machinery, but Xander manages to decipher what he thinks is 'kitten poker'.
"Did someone cancel your boys' night out? Did the Pound confiscate the pot? Have you had some kind of psychotic break?"
More muttering floats his way as Spike kicks the vacuum into sullen silence and lugs it back to its closet in the hall.
With his primary source of entertainment temporarily absent, Xander finally notices the dinner table and its new baize cloth. And the cards and chips stacked neatly in the centre.
An unusually defensive-looking Spike materializes at his shoulder and Xander's eyes are drawn to the balcony doors to check for alien, bodysnatching pods.
"'S just for tonight, Xander. O'Halloran's got closed down for… health violations." Spike blinks at the expression on Xander's face and then continues. "Okay, so there might have been a tiny misunderstanding about who was supposed to clean up after the kittens - and Knurl - but he says he'll let us back in once we've paid for the breakages and the steam cleaning bill."
While talking, Spike absently shreds and fieldstrips a cigarette, dusting the toes of his boots with dark curls of tobacco. Xander gives the balcony another quick check.
"Your name's on the lease right next to mine, Spike. This is your home too. The only thing I ask is that you clean up after. Will this Knurl guy be coming? Do we need to put down plastic sheeting?"
Like Xander's flicked an invisible switch Spike is once again bouncing on his toes, as brash and confident as ever.
"Knurl isn't a problem any more, love. The mess at O'Halloran's wasn't because of Knurl, it was Knurl. And I've got litter trays set up under the table, for after I've won. I've got a good feeling about tonight."
The gleam in Spike's eyes was scary. It gave Xander the shivers, in a good a way.