six.

It was pretty early, and the crew had been called down because of a water main busting loose on the site, so he had the day off. He figured he'd stop by the donut shop and grab a box, surprising Anya at work.

When he finally stepped out, he was inordinately pleased. They had chocolate crullers, with which he could surprise Anya. He started to hum, some random happy tune he must've heard on the radio this morning.

Then the electric guitar riffed in the background, and he started to do a little dance.

Xander couldn't dance. That didn't seem to stop him.

"Donuts!" he sang out, holding the box high above his head.

"There is no better food than--DONUTS! There is no greater prize than--DONUTS! I defy anyone to tell me so And if they do, they're spewing lies.

My friends all need them--DONUTS! They have their awesome--DONUTS! Because of me, I feed them I am their donut man.

Yet sometimes, sometimes, I wonder if it always must be me To give them their sugar cravings And occasionally provide them tea.

But in the end there's--DONUTS! There always must be--DONUTS! So I will bring to them Their precious source of life."

Xander stopped in front of the Magic Shop door. He looked right, then left. Then up and down. Finally he shook his head and entered the building.

seven.

He gave Dawn rides to school every morning so she wouldn't have to ride the bus or walk, but he didn't have time to grab donuts before heading to work.

They didn't really do cram sessions that often now, and there was a new database online for demonology searches that speeded up their ident time in a major way.

More often than not, they'd all break to go home at the end of their day, when everything was finished, things were killed and disposed of.

The Summers' house was their meeting place more than anywhere, really, and there was always something stocked in the fridge, or Dawn would lobby for pizza.

Sometimes, though, Xander'd take his lunch break and eat donuts for an hour.

(SA knows me WAY TOO WELL)

Finished ficlet. Rest is above.

------

Freelance translation had left him somewhat better off in this adjusted reality, but he sympathized with her feelings of uselessness. Relics of unspoken wars, they had each sacrificed several lifetimes' chances at happiness and normalcy. That the world was better for it was cold comfort on sleepless nights.

Initial awkwardness aside, the conversation flowed with a great deal more ease than any in his recent memory. It was pleasant, not having to censor one's self or pretend that none of it had ever happened. More pleasant still to simply relax in the company of someone who knew both what he had been and what he had done, and didn't judge him on either count.

When she lifted her hand and cautiously stroked his cheek before leaning in to kiss him, it moved beyond pleasant. The shock of her mouth against his sparked something he'd thought dead, some long-buried urge for connection and comfort of warmer sort, so he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her closer, kissing her until kissing was no longer enough for either of them, and kisses turned to shaky caresses; trembling hands turned to silent understanding and tangled limbs in sweat-damp sheets.

He woke as the first faint hints of morning flitted through the blinds, the warmth of her body nestled safely against him, her hair spilling over his arms and tickling his nose. Be it benediction or beginning, it felt like belonging. He brushed the strands away, content to watch her breathe, to watch the soft movement of her chest in the watery light.

((((((you guys)))))))

Loving Ethan'n'Giles. Really loving them.

The prospect of Angel spending his mortality in a monastery is deeply satisfying. Good call.

Donuts. Heh. And bless.

"You haven't changed a bit," Ethan smirked. "Wake up, demand tea. No matter where you woke up, you had to have your tea."

connie, I love it.

Her name slipped unbidden from his lips

thinks

looks at name

fills in blank

"Buffy," Wesley said....

Nice work, Plei. I like the style.

SA, I am wondering where you're taking that. It's... interesting.

SA, I am wondering where you're taking that. It's... interesting.

Yeah. It's also finished. I may poke at it a little, but that's pretty much it. Not sure if there's a point.

Um.. right. Okay. I think I might have to re-read it, given that information.

Just a note: blood sacrifices will not result in more writing but most likely a long recitation of "Euw" and "poor goat." Tiaras are sufficient inducement to fic.

connie, the blood sacrifice wasn't for you, it was to keep Ethan intrested.

she says, hurrying off to find tiara...

Am, I've got tiaras, I've got more tiaras than heads. Happy anticipation of the next installment is all the inducement I need.

And Ethan doesn't want any blood sacrifices he doesn't get to participate in.

Happy anticipation of the next installment is all the inducement I need.

Well, I think I might be able to manage that...

Ethan doesn't want any blood sacrifices he doesn't get to participate in.

What does he need? A formal invitation?