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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of My Unlife With Xander
Collections:
Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
Stats:
Published:
2020-11-05
Words:
1,780
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
22
Hits:
1,375

Laundry

Summary:

Summary: Xander has something he's gotta do, so he asks Spike to throw in a load of wash...

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:


**********
Laundry
by Scorpio
**********

It had been a lovely and entertaining afternoon. Spike stood under the warm wet spray of the shower washing the evidence of his enjoyment down the drain. Shampoo bubbles tickled down his spine as he warbled along with the slightly muffled music pouring through the bathroom door as it mixed with the sounds of the shower.

"Ev'rything's Zen, ev'rything's Zen. I don't think sooo-ooo-ooo!"

Dimly in the background, Spike heard the telephone ringing and then the music was turned down. Annoyed because he liked that song, Spike growled softly to himself as he began the 'repeat' part of the 'lather, rinse, repeat' shampoo instructions. 99cent Suave (TM) Shampoo dripped into his eye's making them burn and sting and he thrust his face under the deluge of cool water pouring out of the shower faucet.

"Bloody 'ell. Jus' what I needed. Squeaky clean eye-balls."

Spike was just about to dive head first into a lovely rant when the bathroom door swung open letting some steam and heat escape. Growling, he turned to peek out from behind the shower curtain only to see his Xander looking at him with a resigned and unhappy expression on his face.

"What's with you luv? You look as if someone just eviscerated your pet dog and left 'is innards on the good carpeting."

Spike paused and considered it.

"Not that it wouldn't be funny, but..."

"Can I just interject an EWWW here. That was *so* not a happy thought Spike. Besides... it's something worse. Much worse."

Spike raise up his scared eyebrow at this.

"Worse than puppy guts?"

Xander nodded and then glanced down at the watch on his wrist.

"Yeah. My old man and a few of his buddies from work decided to go hit the bar on their lunch hour. Seems a bunch of guys from a rival company did too. So, to make a long story short, I gotta go bail his ass outta jail for bar-brawling."

Spike grinned.

"I think you should just leave 'im there to rot, pet. Serves 'im right, after all."

Xander groaned and rolled his eyes.

"No way. That'll just make the beating I'll get even worse."

"So... stake 'im."

Xander sighed the sigh of the long suffering.

"Spiiiike! We've talked about this. I *can't* stake him. He's *human*, not a vamp."

Spike shook his head in confusion. His Xander was wild, witty and an excellent shag with a strong killer instinct,... but he had the strangest morals.

"Just 'cause 'es not one o the undead doesn't necessarily mean that 'e doesn't need a good killing, pet. You 'ave no problem killing demons, vamps and creepy crawly insects... why not child abusing drunks as well?"

Xander just rolled his eyes and glanced at his watch again.

"Look. I gotta go get him. I'm gonna grab some money outta your wallet, but I *promise* that I'll replace it later. Okay? Just... do me a favor would'ja? Throw in a load of laundry while I'm gone. We're all outta clean clothes and that was on my list of 'things to do today' and now I'm gonna be stuck filling out bureaucratic red-tape type paperwork. I'll try and be back before dark. Love ya. Bye!"

And with a swirl of steam and a slamming of the door, Xander was gone. Spike blinked.

He didn't care about the money. He knew that Xander's old man would never even think of repaying it, but his Xander would. Even if it meant working overtime in order to do it, but that really wasn't a big deal to him. No. It was that *other* thing that Xander had said that was still running in circles around his skull.

Throw in a load of laundry.
 
He was *Spike*, William the *Big Bad* Bloody! He was feared by humans and demons alike. He was the Childe of Angelus, Scourge of Europe and a master vampire in his own right!

He was... destined to do battle with the dirty clothes.

"O Bloody 'ell!"

~~~

Spike stood, naked but dry, staring at the buttons and nobs on the old beat up washing machine in the corner of his and Xander's kitchen. The white enamel was scratched in several places and there was one or two dents in it, but he knew that the old thing still worked. He'd *seen* it work, because Xander washed their clothes in it all the time.

Spike, however, had never washed a load of clothes in his entire unlife.

That's what minions and servants were for, after all. For a few brief moments, he considered calling up Red on the phone and demanding that the witch come over and throw in a load of wash. He knew that she'd do it if he explained where Xander was and why he was there. Of
course, then he'd have to put up with an unhappy Xander. Xander didn't like it when his friends pitied him, and Spike wasn't ready to volunteer for an evening without sex.

And more importantly, Spike would have to admit that he didn't have a clue about how to do the stupid laundry. That would never do. He'd rather face Angelus with a splinter in his ass than to admit to being too dumb to figure out how to work a machine any silly bint could use. It was a matter of pride, after all.

Trying to read the worn lettering next to the buttons and nobs, Spike finally managed to start the filling cycle. Steaming hot water poured into the inner basin and he grabbed up the plastic jug of laundry detergent. Unscrewing the cap, Spike eyeballed the brightly colored label while wondering just how much of the flowery smelling blue stuff he was supposed to put in. With a shrug and a grin, the vampire poured in about half the bottle. Bubbles began to form under the splashing water.

Smiling, Spike put the lid back on and stuffed the much lighter jug back on the shelf. Turning away and whistling to himself, he went off to search for some dirty clothes.

Three pairs of white cotton boxers.

Two pairs of black jeans.

One bright red button down shirt.

One pair of tan khakis.

Four pairs black t-shirts, two pairs red t-shirts.

Unknown quantity of inside out balled up white socks.

Three blue bath towels.

Carrying his armful of dirty smelling clothes over to the beat up washing machine, Spike began dropping items in. When he'd gotten about two thirds of them in, he realized that the machine was full up, so... he began to jam the rest in.

"Just needs a little elbow grease is all. Don't worry ducks... I'll make ya all fit in there. Everyone gets clean today. 'Cause I sure as 'ell ain't doing *two* loads o wash."

When he'd finally crammed the last piece of material into the overstuffed machine, Spike slammed down the metal lid and wandered off into the living room. The stupid machine was so loud while going about its business, that Spike always pulled out his portable CD player with headphones so that he didn't have to hear it. Not seeing any reason to break with tradition just because it was him who rammed all the dirties into the bloody thing this time, he quickly decided
on an older Metallica (TM) CD. Something of theirs from the late 80's... before they'd been turned into a pop-culture phenomenon.

With the soothing sounds of heavy metal thrash rock pounding in his brain, Spike flipped on the telly and the N64. Time to get in some Mario practice. No way he'd let Xander kick his ass as some silly game...

~~~

Spike was one with the game. He could almost *feel* the moves the bad guys were gonna make *before* they made them. He was firmly in 'the zone' and more importantly, he was five moves from stomping all over Xander's High Score and placing himself as King Shit of 'the game'. It was beautiful.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Xander himself stepped in front of the bloody telly and ripped the headphones right off of his ears.

"What in the name of God did you *do* Spike!!!!!"

Spike grinned.

"Well, whatever it is you're yelling about, I can assure you that *God* had nothing to do with it."

Xander ground his teeth together and *growled* at him. Spike felt his cock twitch. His Xander had such a lovely growl.

"I swear, that if it wasn't for the fact that a billowing cloud of ash would *add* to this mess, I'd stake you myself!"

With that, Xander turned and stomped away in a righteously pissed off mood. Curious and just a bit amused, Spike rose up off of the couch and followed his lover into the small kitchen area. And then stopped. Stunned.

The banging thumping beat up old washing machine had shimmied itself out of it's niche in the wall and was slowly making its way across the scuffed linoleum floor. Pink soap-suds were pouring forth from under the lid and spilling out across the room to land on top of the three inch thick pink foam that was already covering everything. Chaos reigned supreme.

"Bloody 'ell Xander! The silly machine is possessed! Should I call that pouf of a watcher and 'ave 'im come over and perform an exorcism?"

Xander turned his head towards Spike and offered up a truly frightening glare. The vampire felt his cock respond favorably to it and he just barely managed to stifle a giggle. Finally, with a
derisive snort, Xander stomped off through the soap-suds towards the washing machine. He reached across the lid and twisted a nob violently. With one last shudder, the machine fell silent.

His Xander then flipped open the lid with a loud metallic *bang* and reached inside. He pulled out a tiny pair of grey-pink boxers with little blue fuzz balls all over it and his mouth dropped open in
utter shock. Spike racked his brain trying to remember if he threw in any article of clothing that resembled *that* one and couldn't. Stymied, he watched as Xander's shell-shocked face turned to him.

"What?... How did?... Is this?... Fuck it! I *don't* want to know!"

Spike watched as the confused and startled expression morphed into one of unadulterated rage. Once again he realized that his lovely Xander would make a *wonderful* vampire and pushed that up to the top of his list of 'things to do' once he got that bloody chip out of his blooming skull.

"You are NEVER allowed to touch a washing machine *again*!"

Spike just grinned.

 

 

END: Laundry

scorpio71@earthlink.net
http://thesleepydragon.com/nesting/scorpio.html

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Scorpio.
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