Fray-Adjacent

Xander's in the kitchen, being thinky. And cooking. Which mostly consists of poking at the food synthesizer to see what wacky-but-still-edible things he can get it to make, since he knows better than to trust himself with an actual stovetop while engaging in thinkiness.

It's not bad thinkiness, necessarily - despite the construction project being over, and the last week of it being tainted with Umbridge-related nastiness, they had put the school back together. And Umbridge was gone. Resoundingly, loudly gone. Yay.

But other people are going to be gone too, which less with the yay. And, well. Thinky.
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[OOC: for the less-than-pleased BF]

While the Policeman's ball had been a fun ending to a productive week, and Monday had even started well, Xander's anniversary this month? DO NOT WANT.

Which is why, now that Bridge is feeling better, Xander's got his apartment all set up for a romantic evening.

You know. Pizza, highly-caffeinated soda, Galaxy Quest dvds.

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[OOC: for the obvious person-type person.]

Xander's channel-flipping absently, trying to distract himself from the thought that Isabel left today, but not doing such a great job of it. When he had work to do, the physical kind or just meeting new aliens and renting them rooms, as you do, it was better. Now, though, he can't actually seem to pay attention to one show long enough to not think. TV is failing him. This is wrong! So very wrong.
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[OOC: for a certain unlawful curfew-breaker.]

Xander's got an e-mail home open, half-written, as he lounges on the couch with the laptop. Oddly, it's not to Willow, this time - not that it's always to her, but she tends to get the bulk of them due to BFF privileges.

This time, though, it's to the other best friend.

Dear Buffy: So I met Bridge's parents. His mom pulled a knife on me. Good times. I'm not in tiny card jail, though, which I think I'm supposed to take as a sign that they like me. In other news, mini-Fandom-Andrew got the lead in the school play. I'm not sure if I should warn him about possible fairy possession or warn the school about possible monkey-demons. I'm not sure this school would even notice possible monkey-demons; it's not like we did. 64,000$ question: What if Angel'd still been evil after he got the soul back? What would you have done? Except you did, when you killed him, so I guess I'm asking what should I have done to hel---

If you think, given how close that gets to mentioning things he's never mentioned, that this letter's going nowhere fast, you're not wrong.

[OOC: For the guy whose parents haven't put Xander in tiny card jail yet.]

Xander's cooking. Real cooking, not even pasta. Cooking with meat and veggies and something that passes for gravy. It's not really taking his mind off what he learned today, but it's letting him concentrate on something with set steps, instructions he has to follow. It's almost like work in that respect but he's less familiar with the process, and that helps today. Lets him only dwell on it in slow minutes while he's waiting for the potatoes to boil, how easy it is to take it for granted, even now. What he got back, the chance to spend time with with people he cares about, people he thought he'd lost. People - or at least one person - that he really needs to talk to, now.
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[OOC: For Bridge. SP'd for great work-and-cleaning-parents'-house-ness]

Xander has a perfectly logical reason to be piling up pillows, blankets, and sofa cushions on the floor of the den. No, really.

Yeah, there'd been good parts to the last two weeks, and work - of several kinds - was fine, even though his Slayer's taking off for another dimension for the weekend.

But people leaving, people who left, people who might get a little nervous about the idea of him going anyplace... It would make anybody sane consider moving into a fort for the near future.

Granted that doesn't explain why Xander's doing it.
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[OOC: For the fort-buddy. ...Still not you, Madrox. A NWS scene follows this post, but is filtered.]

Apparently the weekend -- exits and entrances, expected parties and unexpected reappearances, applause and explosions, and... brunch, as you do -- had finally caught up with Xander, because he was nursing one of those hide-behind-the-eyepatch headaches. He'd already taken something for it, but that was just keeping the dull throb from creeping out into the rest of his head.
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[OOC: for someone with a festive umbrella. No, not you, Jamie.]