"Hey, these are good." Xander sounded surprised. Andrew, who had been foraging for more ingredients, glanced over his shoulder and nodded. "I won the Junior Prize for Baking," he said breezily. Not being tied up felt wonderful, and Andrew had been doing his best to make himself invaluable about the house ever since he was officially untied and given free rein a week earlier. Not that Buffy or any of her gang seemed to appreciate it very much, but he knew that if they gave him long enough they'd find themselves unable to cope without him. "Well, technically second prize, but Mary Anne Schwartz totally cheated and the prize would definitely have been mine if her aunt hadn't been on the voting committee. I was robbed."
"You're doing that talking thing again," pointed out Xander, but then he noticed the crockery Andrew had piled up beside the sink. "Oh! Hey, cookie dough! Let me help you out with that." Xander seized the bowl and a cookie dough-smeared spoon and set about the important task of scraping the bowl clean and licking up all the remnants of cookie goodness.
"Mmm," agreed Andrew, looking distractedly at the smudge of chocolate on the corner of Xander's mouth and having some very specific and unwise thoughts that did not relate to cooking. Xander glanced up and caught his eye.
"What?" he said defensively, although it sounded rather more like "Mmwmph?" through the raw cookiedough.
"Nothing. Just -- were you really a male stripper?" blurted Andrew. "After we graduated from High School?" Xander's eyes widened slightly, caught unawares. Andrew licked his lips reflexively as he glanced back down at the little chocolate smear. He found himself wondering again what it was like, having a demon lover. Probably quite -- tiring. Um. And educational. Probably.
"Packs of rabid hellbeasts would not get me to discuss that summer," said Xander firmly. He did look slightly red, Andrew thought, but it could have been the lighting. "Not even rabid hellbeasts wielding guns. Big guns." Andrew considered explaining that hellbeasts generally weren't big fans of technology, but on reflection Xander probably knew that already, and was trying to distract him. Besides, Andrew was still kind of preoccupied with the stripping thing.
"So it is true, then? Huh. Who -- uh -- who was in the audience? Was it, like, all girls? Or was it a mixed crowd?" Andrew could feel himself blushing as he squeezed washing up liquid into the sink. He tried to sound casual. "Or, or was it all guys? And what kind of things --" The screech of a stool being shoved away from a counter was followed by the sound of hurriedly departing Xander feet. Andrew pouted. "Hey, come back!" he yelled, without very much hope. "I've still got cookies!"
* * *
"I don't see why we couldn't go along," said Andrew. "It's not like the other girls have special powers. I don't see why we couldn't go along to the cemetery and help with the whole training thing."
"It's Slayer stuff," Xander replied, fiddling with the remote. Andrew thought about this for a moment, carefully picking the olives off his slice of pizza and laying them in a tidy line on the plate.
"But you've slayed loads of vampires," he said after a while. "Slain. Slayed. Turned into dust." He took a mouthful of pizza and gazed at Xander. It was pretty impressive, really. Seven years of fighting demons without being the Chosen One or a witch or anything - just a regular guy. Like the Batman. Only more of a white trash Batman, maybe. Without the tights or the mask. But still -- kind of cool, when you thought about it.
"Yeah. Well, looks like they just wanted to have a girls' night out this time, or something." Xander looked kind of pissed, actually.
"But they took Spike along," pointed out Andrew. Xander's scowl deepened. "Of course, he's like a formerly evil Supervillain, kind of thing, so he's got insight into how a Supervillain's brain works. But so have I! I don't see why I couldn't go along."
"Because you're a pain in the ass, Andrew," snapped Xander, punching the remote and staring at the screen as it flickered from scene to unsatisfactory scene. Andrew pulled a face at him, but decided to overlook the insult. He took another mouthful of pizza and reviewed the day's events in his mind.
"Faith's really cool," he announced. "She's just -- she's really, really cool. Yoda cool. Ripley cool."
"If by cool you mean psychotic, then, sure," said Xander, staring at him balefully from across the living room. "But then I guess that gets her extra bonus cool points in the Andrew Bumper Book of Cool, right? You're just all over these crazy murderous apocalypse-causing types, aren't ya?"
Andrew bridled. "That's not fair! She's seeking redemption, Xander. Like me." His voice took on a wistful tone. "She's a tragic and noble figure fighting for truth, justice and, and, and the Slayer way, but dogged by, by doubters and nay-sayers who want to hold her past mistakes against her."
"Sure. Right. And Adolph Hitler was a sweet little guy with a funny moustache who loved puppies."
"You just don't understand the pain of the rocky road to redemption," announced Andrew. He was startled when Xander sprang out of his chair, stalked across the room and leaned right down into his face, one hand clutching the back of the couch on either side of Andrew's head. Andrew swallowed hard and pressed himself as far back into the couch as he could go. Xander looked thoroughly pissed.