awesome_lilly | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's morning, and Lilly Kane's alarm is going off. She mumbles something that is almost certainly obscene, reaches up, smacks it and then curls up next to Xander again.

Yes. Xander.

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Xander has a splitting headache.

"owww ..."

He's in bed, though. Bed is good. Bed is comfy. And someone's lying next to him ... is it possible that the whole conversation with Mike was just a hallucination brought on by too much rum?

But wait, no. This person's not the right size ... or shape ...

Slowly, gingerly, he raises himself onto his elbows to see who it is.

And promptly falls out of bed.

"ARGH!"

Lilly is jolted out of sleep by a sudden thud and a scream. She sits straight up in bed, blinking madly.

"Fuck! What was that?"

There's a groan and she leans over the side of the bed to see Xander lying on the floor.

"...Xander?"

"Jesus Christ, Lilly ..."

Xander tries to put the pieces together over the pounding in his skull, which is the approximate sound of a pride of clog-dancing elephants.

Do elephants come in prides, or platoons? No, no, that can't be right, argh ...

Focus, focus! Bed, not his. Drinking last night. Lilly.

Oh, SHIT.

"Is there a reason you're on the floor confusing me with Jesus Christ?" Lilly asks sleepily. "Actually, there better be a reason and it better be damn good because you woke me up."

Lilly is not a morning person.

Xander lurches to his feet, hitting the wall several times and finally leaning against it for support.

"Oh God, please tell me we didn't ..."

Lilly looks wounded.

"Wait, you don't remember? Really? Because... well, I thought it was kinda special, actually."

He blanches.

"Special?" he repeats incredulously. "Only in the sense that I was especially drunk and disoriented last night!" He lets out a noise that, were he less manly, might be classified as a whimper. "Lilly, I'm so sorry ... I feel like I majorly just robbed the cradle, here."

Five years is a lot!

Lilly's bottom lips starts to quiver.

"I thought... I thought this meant you loved me," she sniffs. "I mean, isn't that what people in love do? Drink a bottle of rum and then pass out in their friend's bed?"

She's grinning now.

"Because actually? That's all that happened. No sex, I just figured you were too drunk and all to crash alone."

It takes a minute for this to navigate its way through the cacophony in Xander's head and actually be understood. Once it is, however, he comes to a decision comparatively quickly.

"You are dead!"

He lurches forward, grabbing for a pillow and swinging wildly at Lilly.

Lilly ducks easily, grabbing another pillow and thwacking him in the back of the head as he lurches past. She's practically dying laughing, so it's not a very hard hit.

"Yeah, I know I'm dead, Xander. What else is new?"

And she takes another swipe at him.

"Ooh, 'I'm already dead'!" Xander groans as he ducks the second swing-- at the expense of his balance. He flops forward onto the bed. "Yeah, that was real smart, Lilly. How long'd it take to dream up that one?"

He pauses.

"G'morning, by the way. Got an anvil for my head?"

"I just woke up," Lilly points out. "If you want the good snark, you have to bring me coffee."

She tosses the pillow idly at him and sprawls back out on the bed.

"Morning. I have advil and Gatorade, will that do for your head?"

Xander nods weakly.

"Yeah, uh, pass on the Gatorade, but advil sounds terrific. Thanks. It's my breakfast pill of choice."

Lilly grabs a bottle of advil, tosses it over.

"I'm going to take a shower, and while you're welcome to stick around, I'm thinking you probably won't," she says, smiling. "I'll catch you around the bar later, okay?"

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