SilverWick (prncssflutterby) wrote in spander132,

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Timeline: December 23rd--evening
Disclaimer: Not mine. All hail the all mighty Joss.

“Please Xan?” Spike whined. “Please, please, please?”



“No Spike, I’m not telling what I got you for Christmas.” Xander said. Spike stomped across the room to the closet and started rummaging through it, muttering as he did so.

“You’re not going to find it.” Xander said mildly amused at the vampire.

“Why not?” came a muffled reply, as he threw a pair of old sneakers to the side.

“Because I’m not stupid enough to have it here where you could find it.”

“Where’d you hide ‘em?” Spike said, standing up and turning around with an irritated look on his face. “At the Red’s place? Cause I can go look for them there?”

“Nope.” Xander said simply. “It’s someplace you won’t be able to go to.”

Spike stared at him like he’d grown a second head, as Xander thought about when he’d researched the local banks to find out which ones didn’t have sewer access. Xander smiled, Spike would never figure out that he put he present in a safety deposit box at the bank where his secret checking account was.

Xander notice something on the cover of the TV guide, picked it up, and opened it the corresponding page. “Hey Spike did you know that there’s a Passions marathon on from 5 o’clock tonight til 5 tomorrow morning? It’s on the soap network.” Xander added the last part as Spike scrambled over the couch and made a dive for the remote. Xander glanced at the clock on the wall 5:03pm, now all he had to do was get to the bank tomorrow before they closed early and take Spike’s present to Angel’s old mansion.

When he’d started trying to find something for Spike, he’d called Angel looking for ideas and that’s when Angel warned him about Spike impatientness. Angel had suggested the safety deposit box til Christmas Eve then sneaking it to his old mansion for the night. Apparently Spike wouldn’t go there anymore because of Angelus, and Angel had kept the mansion for whenever he was in Sunnydale.

Xander sat on his overstuffed armchair with his legs swung over the arm of the chair to watch a few hours of Passions til he needed sleep for tomorrow’s crazy slayerette-filled Chrismukkah filled events.
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