milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Warren looks less out of sorts than he did last night (Isabel to thank for it, most likely), and he's beginning to wonder if leaving Meg passed out on the floor as he did was, and there's no other word for it, impolite of him.

Therefore, he gets himself a beer and does nothing about any of it.

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Anya wanders over.

"Is everything okay between you two now?"

Warren's jaw tightens. She really did tell everyone, didn't she? Really, now...Anya? Did Isabel even know her?

"Yes. Fine," he snips.

Anya gives him a sideways look.

"Why don't I believe you?"

Warren would suspect it's because they (being women) are all in it against him.

"We are," he insists.

Maybe he's still a little hurt. Whatever. He's always a little hurt. He doesn't have to acknowledge it.

Anya sighs and takes a sip.

"You know that there has been worse."

"Oh. Thank you. For telling me. What I know," he responds sarcastically.

"I don't...even know what you mean by that. And it's fine."

Because she probably won't do it again. And even if she does, he's learned that, hey, he can take her back just fine. Forget about the humiliation and the feeling that he's been stabbed in the heart, and go on like nothing happened. It's remarkably easy. He's more upset by the prospect of funerals, at the moment.

She looks at him again.

"Xander and me. I know you remember the thing in the Magic Shop."

...Wellyes, yeshedoes...

"Uh...yes. So?"

So, what, his feelings don't matter then? Bullshit. It hurt. He's over it.

"She didn't really sleep with the guy. I really slept with Spike. But Xander and I made up in the end. The very end, but still."

She takes another sip.

"We. Made. Up," Warren over-enunciates. "It feels the same. I'm over it. I'm not going to do anything."

She lifts an eyebrow. She could say that she doesn't think he's over it, but decides not to. Then again...

"Liar."

Warren smirks.

"Oh? Fine. Ask her. Ask her if she wasn't on her knees for me just the other night."

...He sort of wishes he hadn't said that...

The other eyebrow joins the first.

"Kinky. But that's not what I was talking about. You, robot boy, are not over it."

"It's not that kinky," Warren huffs.

"Oh right. A wooden stake and a vampire would be kinkier."

Warren blinks.

"What are you...? It's a blow job, it's not...whatever..."

She rolls her eyes.

"Just annonce it to the whole bar, why don't you."

He's tempted. Also to yell: and I go down on her too. And she was on top the other night. But that seems like a lot, and he's not completely comfortable with public speaking.

He rolls his eyes back at her.

"I'm going to say this one last time: it's fine. We're fine. She's fine. I'm fine. Why do you even care?"

Anya shrugs.

"Cause she seemed upset the other night. And I know your history."

Warren snorts.

"Yes. She was upset. She was. Me? No. Not at all."

Sarcasm. Have some?

"And like I said. I know your history. And I know what you do when upset."

She gives him a stare.

Sh may not think he's completely evil anymore, but still.

"So that means you know me? Okay. Then what'd I do? This time? Tell me. C'mon," Warren challenges.

Anya takes a sip.

"I don't know what you did this time, but I know what happens when you don't get completely over something."

He laughs.

"You...think I'm going to team up with two other guys and try to take over the bar?"

Anya snorts.

"You wouldn't even get to the bottom of the stairs here."

He glares.

"I know the rules."

He regards her haughtily.

"I'll have you know that I slept with Jonathan that night."

He realizes how that sounds and amends:

"I was drunk."

He winces at that as well, and amends again:

"I got drunk and Jonathan let me stay with him because I was drunk and that's all I did. Nothing else."

Especially not with Jonathan.

Anya just smirks and takes another drink.

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