A Bizarre Exercise In Surrealism
by Netgirl

"Xander, close your mouth, you look like a fish." Anya sounded like Mary Poppins when she spoke, but that wasn't what was scaring Xander.

Xander, mouth still open, stared down at Anya where she was lounging on the unmade bed in his basement, "You mean we're not going to..." he trailed off with a frantic wave of his arms.

"Not going to have sex, no we're not."

"For how long?" Xander demanded. It might have been a good idea to ask Anya where this insane plan had come from, but he understandably felt that timescale was the pressing issue here.

"Until we learn to communicate."

"Say what now?"

"Until we can communicate, I read it," she thrust one of those glossy women's magazines at him, " it says if a women, say me, is having trouble communicating with her man, say you, she should withhold sex until the problem is resolved."

Xander looked down at the shiny pages in his hands and yelped, dropping it, he'd developed a phobia of those sorts of magazines at the age of seven, he'd been flicking through one of his mothers magazines looking for mentions of the word 'breasts' or 'sex' when he'd found an article on breast self examination, and acquired some very Oedipal images that he'd spent many subsequent nights trying to repress.

"We communicate! We talk! I know, I've been there when it's happened."

Anya rolled off of her stomach and sat up, "We don't talk enough. Look at Willow and Oz they talked lots, and he still left her for that female werewolf. I hardly know anything about you!"

Xander decided that the fact that Anya was worried he would leave her for a female werewolf was a conversation that could wait for a less confusing day, " Anya, you know me."

"I know that you like me to be on top during intercourse, I know that you enjoy being tied up, I know that you always make appreciative noises when I run my tongue along the underside of your penis during felatio..."

The blood rushed away from Xander's head and he quickly sat down on the corner of the bed and crossed his legs, Anya carried on unperturbed.

"...You like it when I stick my finger into your anus when you are close to climax. But I don't know any of the really important things. And you don't know anything about me!"

Xander frantically tried to remember something about Anya that wasn't related to any of her erogenous zones, "Ok, uh, where did you grow up?"

"The 10th century, in Eastern Europe," she smiled brilliantly.

"What was that like?"

"Well there were a few famines, and one epidemic that I can recall. On the plus side there was no hellmouth nearby, that was clearly a plus."

"Oh," Xander's brain stalled, 'come on, come on' he thought, he had women friends, he should know how to talk to women by now, "did you always want to be a vengeance demon?"

"No, as a child I wanted to be a housewife," Xander burst out laughing and Anya glared at him, "don't laugh. There were very few opportunities for women in those days. So what occupation did you want as an infant?"

" A fire truck," answered Xander.

"You mean a fire fighter?"

"No, until I was about six, when Willow explained that people can't turn into inanimate objects at will, I wanted to be a fire truck."

"People into inanimate objects! Hah!" Anya threw her head back and burst into infectious laughter, Xander joined in and soon they were both writhing about the bed in hysterics, with occasional shouts of 'housewife' or 'fire truck.'

When they'd calmed and Xander had pulled Anya close to him with his arm wrapped around her waist and her head resting against his chest he asked, "Anya, what is this all about?"

She played with the top buttons of his shirt, "I just didn't want you to leave me."

"Why would I leave you?" he played with a strand of blonde hair.

"You might leave me for a woman who can give you good conversation."

Xander laughed again, "Ahn, for someone who spent hundreds of years torturing men you really don't know anything about us."

"But sex doesn't last forever. When we're old and wrinkled and your sexual organs don't work anymore, what will we do then? Plus your friends think I'm strange!"

Xander shifted so he could look into Anya's eyes, "I think you're strange, that doesn't mean I don't love you."

"You love me?" Anya asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, I," Xander hadn't realised it until right now, but he did love her with her kissable mouth, and inappropriate sense of humour, and strange vulnerability. "I love you."

"I love you too," Anya leaned in, mouth curved into a small smile and kissed Xander, "and I will even when your sex organs are defunct."

"Er, thanks."

"Hey," Anya's eyes sparkled, "Now that we've resolved the communication problem we can start having sex again!" She pushed Xander's shoulders back and slid down his body to grapple with his belt, unzipping his jeans to pull out his still hard cock, dipping her perfect mouth to perform the action that she knew always elicited such appreciative noises from him.

"Good God Ahn, that's some good conversation."


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