milliways_bar | (no subject)

*Xander spots Meg and sneaks up behind her as sneakily as he can. He's going to make the tiny dancer PAY for her photojournalistic aspirations.

Now, if only he could sneak.*

*Meg is good at noticing the sneaking.

She spins around, and beams.*

Why, hullo, Xander.

Meg! *Xander scrambles to make this declaration of alarm seem authoritative and accusatory by pointing at her with his index finger.*

I believe you have something of mine. Somethings. You know what I mean!

I haven't the faintest idea what you mean, *Meg says cheerfully.* I don't have anything of yours. Anything I possess is entirely and completely mine.

*Xander's voice takes on a warning tone.*

Don't make me go commando on you, Meg. 'Cause I will. I am in that place.

*Meg stares at him.*

- isn't going commando where you don't wear underwear?

*A little bit of Xander dies inside.*

No! ... Well, yes. But that's not what I meant! Quit changing the subject! Where are those photos?

*Meg beams innocently.*

Have you ever heard of a place called 'Paris'?

MEG.

1883, *Meg adds cheerfully.*

*Xander is ready to throttle Meg.*

... Did they turn out well?

The bar developed them, *Meg says happily.* Of course they did! And now I have them up over my bed.

*Xander plots to get into Meg's bedroom somehow. He realizes that he will probably have to enlist Andrew's aid in this.*

And what does Andrew think of your new decorating scheme?

*He prays that Meg does not have Andrew too whipped-- but then, everyone has Andrew whipped.*

Let me put it this way, *Meg says brightly.* Andrew's easy to distract.

*The color drains from Xander's face.*

... Thanks, Meg. Thanks for that.

*Meg gives him a kindly look.*

Oh, come on, Xander. We share a room. You knew that already. Get used to it.

*Xander's vocie is slightly plaintive.* I know it. I accept it. I don't ponder it.

You asked, *Meg points out reasonably.*

The question I asked had little-to-nothing to do with the reply I got. You're worse than An--

*He winces.*

An-

*Meg looks puzzled - after all, she knows many 'Ans'- and then comprehends.*

Oh.

*That An, too, she knows.*

Yeah. Not as bad as she is- was- is, but pretty darn close.

She asked if Andrew was gay, too, *Meg says thoughtfully.* Why does everyone always do that?

Because he--

*Xander shuts his mouth, realizing that listing the many, many reasons that people ask this would not be wise.*

*Meg eyes him.*

It gets awfully unnerving, you know. I'm starting to wonder if I really am a guy and don't know it.

*Xander gives Meg an entirely-too-innocent "Hmm, isn't that interesting" look.*