Arrange Dates for Xander

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy

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It had started out so well. That should have been the first clue. No, scratch that. Dawnie setting this up, that should have been the first clue. But it starting well, yeah, second clue. Hmm... What other clues? Oh – 'she' had been so in tune with the masculine psyche. (Word-a-Day calendar strikes again!) Er... More than Xander, actually. He'd never been one for organised team sports. Spending most of high school a) with a bunch of girls, and b) fighting an unseen war kind of made the whole 'battlefield come sports field' concept a bit, well, passé. Nevertheless.

The fun part was going back to 'her' apartment. There was coffee. It was nice. There was even touching, but it was actually a step back from naughty touching. Looking back, Xander suspected that he'd already known the hand basket to hell was that little step further. Unfortunately, 'she' liked hell's hand basket. Or something. 'Cause, next thing he knew, Xander was dealing with a decidedly male … being … on his lap, snuggling. Which would have been bad enough, except said male … being … had so obviously been well enough endowed to put any lesser man (and Xander was feeling definitely lesser) to shame. But that was okay, he said. Because, unlike humans, he could produce enough mucus to …

Xander never actually heard what the mucus would do. He was already out the door, running for the stairs. Not that there was anything wrong with someone liking/wanting/doing that. It just (really) wasn't his thing. Really.

~~~~~

Faith about pissed herself laughing when Xander finally calmed down enough to talk about his date (from hell, I tell you!)

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I think it's about time to make a good copy, and post it on her door.”

“Hell with that!” Xander snorted. “I'm taking her down to a tattooist and getting it put on her forearms!”

Buffy considered. “That might actually work.”