Xander was sharpening the swords and other edged weapons. Proper maintenance was as important to these sort of weapons as any other, one reason knights used to be started out as children on exactly this duty. He had rigged up a rotating grindstone, peddle operated since a normal bench grinder heats the metal up too much and then it loses crucial metallic properties. The youngest Harris had risen from builders laborer to foreman on the basis of this kind of care at getting work done properly and with minimum effort and waste, it was a habit with him.
Taking care not to get the edge TOO sharp - razor sharp edges turn when they hit bone or similar, leaving a suddenly VERY dull implement - he went through the weapons locker. Cleaning, checking the handles, testing that none of the axe heads were coming loose, looking for rust, it was needed, no one else seemed to think of it, and he found it relaxing. There was a meditative quality in focusing totally on a task; it blocked out the world and its problems, making doing his work properly the restful part of his day.
Not that he needed to de-stress as much as he used to. With Faith having essentially claimed him as hers, Anya and Buffy on their self-discovery missions, and Willow mainly out of danger in England with Kennedy, things were getting to be as good as doing a suicidal task was ever going to be. And he had no illusions about that simple fact, continuing to fight the good fight would claim his life eventually. He worried about failing, about letting the others down.
He stopped worrying about personal survival the instant Jessie disintegrated into dust in front of him. If the mission justified him killing one of the precisely two people in the universe who, up to that point, had ever cared if her lived or died, then anything less than success was unacceptable.
Faith had always understood, it was one reason she was such a wild child. Willow had gotten further and further into magic to try to control the lethal reality around her. Giles was in deep denial, running off home 'to help Buffy grow up' for pity's sake. If she needed someone else to handle routine 'adult responsibilities' like paying bills on time then someone else should do it. The strain of doing that stuff, AND slaying was clearly too much for her to handle, slaying had proven too much for her a few times in high school after all. Buffy was going to be dead for the final time before she had gray hair, they all were, and, as long as she saved the world regularly that ought to be enough.
Finishing his task, the former zeppo stretched and then went home to shower. When he arrived Faith, Willow, Kennedy and Anya were there. The red head looked nervous, Kennedy looked uncertain, and the other two just looked extremely horny.
"Ah, Xander, here at last, now we can get on with the group sex." Anya said, turning to shove her tongue down the dark slayer's throat. He was wondering why his oldest friend was so nervous.
"I'm for a shower, anyone want to join me?" He said, having done this often enough to know he would get no takers, with the man interested pair occupied and Willow never..."
"Sure." Willow cut off his train of logic. Kennedy was holding her hand, then leaned over to whisper in the Wicca's ear. The shower stall was large enough for three, he had remodeled it to ensure that, but Willow hadn't displayed any interest in males since Oz left, and her girlfriend had never shown any at all, in his experience at least "My love keeps telling me I need to, with a man, occasionally, so, no time like the present, right?"
Willow was a little out of practice but made up for it quickly, Kennedy joined in but didn't actually do anything with Xander. Afterward there was the usual intermission, and they ate a light dinner with some drinks. The dark haired man could see that the red head was working up to something, something that everyone was in on but him.
"What is it Willow, come on, you can tell me?" He was also curious about how the lesbian pair was suddenly doing things like the shower scene, but he felt the two were connected. He was right.
"I want to have your baby." Kennedy was holding his oldest friend's hand as the witch said this, the look of love and support on both faces so sweet he was almost not tempted to kill the pair of them. "And you tell me this AFTER we do the baby making thing!" I was possible there were people in the building who did not hear this comment, but probably only those with hearing problems.
"No, we're safe for now, a little spell thing, just, we want to have children and I want you to be the father and Faith said yes, and I want you to be part of their life, and who else would I turn to?"
Alexander Lavelle Harris was officially freaked. His bisexual demon fighting witch best friend wanted to be the mother of his children. On the plus side, it would be a lot easier to convince her to stay in the Watcher Library and be the survivor of the Scooby's. On the minus side the idea of having children was freaking him out, bigtime. He was terrified of becoming like his father, and now there would be kids, or at least a kid, to fail, to get drunk and angry around, to yell at and abuse like that bastard.
"Xman, its cool, you're not your dad, and if you turn into him I'll personally gut you like a trout." Faith said to him, holding his head in her hand so she was staring directly into his eyes.
"You say the sweetest things Faith." Reassured by this, he turned to the nervous couple. "Willow, this is a big step, are you sure you're ready for a tiny, bouncing, baby Xander?"
"No one is ever ready for you, but yes, I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Partly it was just facing mortality, or at least her facing Xander's mortality. He had mentioned the 'none of us are going to live to get wrinkled' belief, and she realized it was a simple fact. She was in a quiet part of rural England, green and full of life, and almost everyone she really cared about was doomed to an early, violent death. "I can have a family and still work for the Watchers, running the I.T. department, and you should have children soon."
"Before he's too dead to have them, you mean." Anya said, in a remarkably cheerful tone. "See, I can pick up on nuances and subtle meanings, I didn't miss the 'get me pregnant before a Burant demon make stew out of you' meaning."
"I'll have to think about this, it's a big step." But he knew, they all knew, he would do it. "We're safe for tonight?"
The couple nodded.
"Well, now that that's settled, how about Faith lies down and we cover her in chocolate sauce, and I have some shredded coconut and we can coat the cherries in the chocolate and dip them in the coconut." Anya added. They had done it before, changing who was the serving platter each time.
"Hey, we're the guests, one of us should get a turn." Willow pouted. The image of the others three running chocolate coated fingers over her nipples, belly, dipping cherries into a little pool of the sauce in her belly button...she definitely wanted this.
"As long as I get to lick the serving dish clean." Kennedy responded firmly.
"Spoilsport." Was Faith's response.