Xander rolled over in the enormous Queen-sized bed, and looked blearily at the green numerals illuminated in the darkness. He cursed quietly as his eyes focussed on the painfully bright display. “Oh, it can’t be 4 a.m. already!”
A sleepy grunt from the other side of the bed made him turn over. As he saw the tousle-haired blonde he couldn’t help but smile.
“Hn? Xander? That you?” Buffy asked sleepily.
Xander suppressed a tired grin. “Are there any other gorgeous brunettes you let share your bed?”
Buffy turned over. “No.”
“Then yes, it’s me.” Xander sounded reasonably certain. “I think.”
“Oh.” Buffy sounded far from enthusiastic. But then, she always did on Monday mornings when Xander had to wake up at 4a.m. to get to the building site three and a half hours away for work.
It had worked out like this: while Xander didn’t want to leave Sunnydale, his immediate boss wanted him to Foreman for larger Contracts. He had a knack of getting building complete, on time, and under budget. Which made his workmen happy, since they got a hefty ‘early completion’ bonus. This however, meant that Xander had to juggle his time carefully. He would live in a cheap accommodation for the week near the worksite, and either fly or drive, depending on distance, home to Buffy on Friday night and then do the same thing on Sunday evening or Monday morning.
Xander threw the covers off his side, and slid upright. “Oh… shit, its cold…”
Buffy rolled over and fixed Xander’s back with a glare. “How many times have I told you, Xander?”
The two talked in unison: “No construction site language at home! What would Catherine think if she heard you talk like that?”
Xander looked round, looking suitably chastised. However, it didn’t last long, as it dissolved into a cheeky grin.
Buffy snorted at his antics. “Why can I never stay angry at you?”
“Is it my charm?” Xander asked as he pulled on a pair of socks and stood up to dig in his shirt drawer.
Buffy put a finger to her lips, in consideration. “It might be…” she conceded, “but it’s more likely that it’s because you share my bed.”
Xander stepped toward the bed. “Oh, I ‘share your bed’ do I?”
Buffy nodded, a smirk threatening to turn into a huge grin. “You do. And what a good sharer you are, too… hardly hog the duvet or anything!” She raised herself up on her elbows. “I love you.”
Xander bent down to kiss her lightly. “I love you too. Can’t be late on the site… they can’t legally start without me, y’know…”
Buffy shook her head in wonder. “My husband, the big Construction Worker…” she sat up properly. “Seriously, Xander… why do you not take a desk job? It would be so much easier.”
Xander sighed. Buffy and he had had this conversation many times since he became senior enough to opt for a position as a desk-jockey, but it was always brought out to air again. “I don’t like paperwork, Buff…”
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” Buffy asked quietly.
Xander turned back to his chest of drawers. “Yeah, Buff. It is. I like being outside. Even when God is trying to start the second Great Flood.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“But the pay is good.”
“The pay wouldn’t buy Catherine a new father, Xander.”
Oh ho… pack the bags; we’re going on a guilt trip… Xander thought to himself. He would never say it though.
Buffy sighed instead of continuing, and smiled weakly. “I guess we’ve already covered this, though. So no need to do it again.”
Xander looked round, just finishing buttoning up a shirt, with a look of surprise in his eyes. “I should never underestimate you.”
Buffy cracked a small smile. “No, you never should, Mr. Summers.” In an attempt to distance himself from his parents, Xander had taken Buffy’s surname when they married, rather than she, his. He preferred ‘Summers’ as a surname to ‘Harris’ anyway.
Xander finished dressing, and stepped up to the now standing Buffy. Kissing her with a passion that had lasted since their first date, so long ago, he finally broke it. “I’ve got to go…”
Buffy hugged him. “Take care, Xand. And don’t forget to say goodbye to Catherine. She seems to know when you do or don’t, you know.”
A momentary flash of worry gripped Xander. “You think its Hellmouthy?”
Buffy shook her head. “Nah. It’s just a seven year old and their almost psychic bond to their parents.”
“I suppose.”
“I know.” Buffy said.
Xander walked out of the door to their room, and tucked his head into the room two down. His daughters. Incredible. He had a daughter.
“Goodbye, Catherine. I’ll be back on Friday.” He shut the door quietly, and started down the stairs while Buffy went back to sleep. She too, had a job; as a teacher at the local Elementary. It was a running joke between the two that Xander worked more hours, but did less work than she did.
Xander never heard the sleepy, “Bye, daddy…” come from his daughter as he left.
While the Monday mornings could be better, Xander quietly admitted to himself, life is good…