Title: Some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

Rating: PG13 (for dirty words)

Pairing: S/X sort of.

Summary:  Xander’s day goes from bad to worse.

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made. Please don’t sue.

A/N: For Marta, because she’s sad. Hope this brings a smile to your face!

Some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

Xander’s day had started off bad and just got worse as the day grew longer. The power had gone out at some point during the night, so his alarm hadn’t gone off for work. He woke up and had only ten minutes to get ready and leave for work; he frantically searched his dresser for clothes and came up short. He had meant to do laundry over the weekend but the Hellmouth reared its ugly head. So here he was, faced with the daunting choice between yesterday’s underwear or going commando. There was no choice.

Looking back on it, he wondered if he shouldn’t have just gotten over the squick factor and put the underwear on. What were the odds after all that the one day he had forgone boxers, his pants would split? He wore them baggy just to avoid that possible scenario!

The guys at work had given him a serious ribbing over his impromptu flashing episode, asking all sorts of embarrassing questions about his sex life and making innuendos. He grinned and bore it, even though he felt like crawling under a desk to hide. Of course, crawling really wasn’t an option seeing as he’d need to bend over to do it.

He’d driven to the mall at lunch and bought new pants. And some underwear.

When he arrived home from work there was a message on his answering machine from Anya. She said she was calling to inform him of her plans to drop by that evening, as friends are supposed to do. She was taking the whole “I want to be friends” part of her break-up speech to him, to heart. Well, at least she was trying.

He gathered up his dirty laundry and headed to the basement laundromat to avoid the events of today repeating themselves tomorrow. Of course when he got back upstairs, he found Spike sitting on his couch, sipping blood from his Scooby-Doo mug, and watching TV. He wondered if his day could get worse. He should have known he was jinxing himself by even thinking something like that.

He scowled at Spike on his way to the bedroom to deposit his clean clothes. There was no point in yelling at the vampire; he’d tried that before. It never worked. He changed his locks, but somehow he got in anyway. He really needed to consider having Willow uninvite him.

After a brief conversation on the merits of privacy, and why Spike thought Xander didn’t deserve any, the vampire had gone into the kitchen to rummage through his cupboards for munchies. A knock on the door sounded Anya’s arrival and Xander threw his hands in the air and scowled at the ceiling. He sometimes wondered if he wasn’t the jester in the Powers’ little court. How his misery must entertain them…

Anya being her usual blunt self began speaking as soon as he’d opened the door.

“Xander,” she’d said. “I went through the box of toys that I took when we broke up, and I found Spike.” At this, she pulled ‘Spike’ - a 10 inch long, soft rubber dildo -  from her bag and began waving it around while she spoke. “I didn’t mean to take this one, as it was yours before we got together, so I brought it back.”

Xander had tried to shut her up, but he wasn’t fast enough. He just knew that the vampire in his kitchen had heard everything and would likely be on his way to investigate. He really didn’t want Spike to walk in and see Anya still gesturing emphatically with a rubber cock that was named after him. So of course, that’s exactly what happened.

Anya had tried to help in her own way, putting the cock down on the table and rummaging around in her purse for a suitable replacement. Somehow, he highly doubted that Spike bought her explanation for why Xander would have a make-up case, or why he’d name it ‘Spike’.

Knowing that she had made a mess of things for her ex, Anya smiled sheepishly at Xander, kissed him on the cheek and left. Leaving the large, fake penis still sitting on the table. Spike had picked it up, turned it over in his hands, cupped his own crotch while twisting his lips in thought, and then offered Xander a wicked grin.

Xander had put his head in his hands, knowing that Spike was going to take the piss with him on this one, likely start insinuating things, as well. So he was shocked when the blonde simply put the penis back on the table, thanked him for his hospitality and left.

Now, here Xander was, hours later, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. ‘Spike’ was safely tucked away in the shoebox under the bed, and Xander wondered if he’d ever be able to look at the actual Spike again without blushing.

Some days, it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed. As the thought drifts through his head, he thinks that if he had the day to do over again, he would have just rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head and stayed in bed all day.

Oh well. It could have been worse, at least he didn’t know about ‘Angel’.