Xander would take the blame for a lot of things in life but the recent Weasley invasion wasn’t one of them. He’d saved a man’s life, accidentally
. What that man, and most of the rest of his family, decided to do after that was their business. Except they’d all apparently decided that the Council was some kind of haven for the severely henpecked and Xander was suddenly drowning in redheads.
And a dragon wrangler with mediwizardry training and a cursebreaker that could also crunch numbers, them Xander could find something to do with. But what was he supposed to do with the Weasley twins, who’d decided they needed to expend their joke shop business into America, specifically San Francisco?
“Look,” he said, running his hand through his hair irritably, “I’m not saying you can’t stay here. But I don’t really know what to do with you and I need to be able to explain your presence here to the people that pay the bills.”
Fred looked to George, who shrugged. “We thought we’d design obstacle courses for your Slayers. We’re pretty good at designing stealth devices and concealment charms, too.”
Xander stared at them, open mouthed, for a moment before saying, “Yeah, okay. Your brothers like the east wing.”
Fred grinned. “I reckon we’ll make it a family affair, then.”
“Don’t explode it,” Xander said, suddenly awash with dread. “No booby traps.”
“’Course not, mate,” George said with a smile as he and Fred stood.
They waved as they left and Xander laid his face in his hands. He was going be blamed for the insanity those two were going to rain down on the house.