Boys
for Corinna. Merry Christmas 2005. Spike and Wes in the SWBD 'verse as requested. Set after The Moonlight Gamblers.

Spike dragged a pillow over the top of his head to try to block out the sound of the telephone's warbling ring. Patrol had run late and he had no desire to greet the afternoon, never mind the morning, even if Buffy had dutifully headed out to college at least an hour earlier. The ringing stopped. Spike shifted the pillow and half-opened an eye to squint at the alarm clock. A few seconds after he managed to work out that it was quarter past ten, the ringing started again. It was no good. He grabbed the handset from its stand on the bedside table and snarled into it. "Piss off!" He was holding it at arms length, his fingers fumbling for the disconnect button when he heard two words in an English accent.

"It's here!"

Pulling the phone back to his ear, his tone now one of excitement, he asked, "Everything?"

"According to the shipping note," Wes answered. "I haven't opened it all up yet."

"Two minutes," the vamp replied, wedging the cordless phone between his ear and shoulder as he ransacked a nearby chest of drawers for a clean shirt and pair of trousers and started to get dressed. He could hear the sound of plastic strapping being cut and then tape being ripped from a box.

"Daddy, can I help?" Rosa's slightly muffled voice carried down the line.

"Sorry, sweetie," Wes answered. "Uncle Will's coming over to help. Why don't you go upstairs as quietly as you can and check if your little sister's still sleeping?"

"She's still asleep." Rosa's answer was decisive. "She feels all snuggly."

Spike decided that he had better get over to Wes's place before Rosa realised that her dad was trying to fob her off or he was going to find himself out in the cold. "On my way!" he almost shouted before he tossed the phone onto the unmade bed and hurtled up the stairs from the basement. He grabbed his duster from the hooks beside the front door and, holding it over his head and hands made a dash for the porch of the house on the other side of the street.

The watcher pulled the front door open just as Spike arrived and he made his way into the living room where Wes had already drawn the blinds, tossing his coat to one side and helping Wes pull out the contents of the large parcel that had been delivered by courier that morning. When they had the various packages spread out all over the floor Spike picked up the packing note and checked them off. They had everything, the travel plug adaptor, the latest games console in its UK format, an LCD monitor, scart lead and all the latest soccer titles, Pro Evolution Soccer, FIFA Manager and World Cup 2006.

Spike grabbed the copy of Pro Evolution Soccer and started peeling off the cellophane. "Bags Man U," he stated.

Wes raised an eyebrow and gave a slight curl of his lip. "Chelsea... You're going down!"