Word Count: 464
Summary: Xander and Anya walk home together after "Fear Itself."
Author's Note: This was inspired by the first kiss meme, where likeatuesday suggested these guys. And, well, okay, their first kiss was onscreen, but this is their first kiss that doesn't serve as a precursor to sex upon which Anya is very, very adamant! It works, right?
They decide to walk home from Giles's together, once they've figured out that they're both going in the same direction. Xander's house is first. He feels like a little bit of a pansy for not walking the girl to her door, but honestly, he doesn't even actually know where she lives. She's a mysterious one, Anya. Or maybe (probably) just crazy.
Xander snickers a little bit and tugs on one of her ears. "Heh. Bunny fear."
"Stop it," Anya snaps, swatting his hand away.
"Sorry." He shoves his hands into his pockets.
"I'm not judging your irrational phobias," she continues, scrutinizing his tux with a glare. "What are you, a waiter?"
"Hey," Xander objects, holding up a finger. "That's head waiter to you, lady."
"Don't get upset," she orders sulkily. "I was only saying."
"I wasn't getting upset," he protests.
She gives him a look of intense doubt. "Then what were you doing?"
"I think I was flirting," he confesses after a second of consideration. Then, because it feels necessary, he adds, "Apparently unsuccessfully."
Her expression immediately softens. "You were flirting with me?"
"Looks to be that way," he confirms, a little gravely. He definitely, definitely doesn't know how to deal with this girl.
Comfortingly, at the moment she doesn't really look like she knows how to deal with him either.
"All right, then," she says awkwardly.
"Yeah," he agrees.
They walk in weird, weird silence the rest of the way to his house.
"Well, this is where I get off," he informs her when they reach the driveway. He's quick to add, "Not in a sexy way." Just in case she starts thinking he's one of those jerks who just uses a girl for sex. Which she initiated. Very, very firmly.
Still. It's the gallant principle of the thing that matters.
"All right," she says, sounding a little disappointed. "Well, goodbye."
She's turned and walked like three steps with her gigantic ridiculous bunny costume feet, when he suddenly makes up his mind to do something bold and unXanderish. He is James Bond right now, after all, even if everybody around him seems really set on pegging him as a snazzily dressed waiter.
She turns, and he steps forward, and then, surprisingly successfully, they're kissing. His left hand comes up to brush her face; she lets out this tiny, happy sigh, and he reflects dimly that it might be the greatest sound he's ever heard. A couple of kids dressed like ewoks sing out a chorus of "ewww!"s as they walk by, but he is officially way too preoccupied to care.
Most of the time, he's not going to pretend he gets what's going on between them, but in this particular moment, it suddenly starts to make a whole lot of sense.