No one had answered at their parent’s houses, Giles didn’t appear to be home and there’d been a distinct lack of Slayer and Slayerette at the cemetery, the college bar, the coffee shop and the Bronze.

Which left dorm room.

He smiled at a few people, trying to act like he belonged there. Even in high school, when he hadn’t been part of the in-crowd, which had been all throughout high school, at least he’d felt like he fit in somewhere. Willow’s best bud, Buffy’s wacky pal, Cordelia’s boyfriend, Giles’ errand boy. Now he felt distinctly left out.

And it didn’t help that the college kids regarded “townies” as a thing to avoid like the plague. Which, considering all the bad things that came to visit Sunnydale, was actually pretty funny. At least it would be, if it didn’t hurt so much.

Sighing, he mentally kicked himself for being so brought down by it all. He was Xander Harris, getter of jelly donuts. No reason not to like himself.

Besides, unlike Willow and Buffy, he was getting laid on a regular basis *and* he didn’t have to baby-sit a whiny vampire whenever Giles wanted to get some action.

With a smile that was part self-satisfied smirk, he stopped in front of the door to room 214. He raised his hand to knock when the soft sounds of his best friend’s voices drifted out to him.

“Oh God! Buffy this is so good!” Willow’s voice was a throaty moan of pleasure. Xander’s eyes widened and he wished like hell for x-ray vision.

“Mmmm,” the Slayer’s response was muffled. Like any normal eighteen-year-old, Xander’s mind kicked into overdrive and he visited a place well known in his fantasy life.

“So hot…” He’d never heard Willow sound like that, all breathy and shuddery. He’d come close once or twice, when they’d been involved in their own dangerous liaison, but he’d never quite…

“Oh yeah, Willow. This is the best.” Buffy’s voice matched hers, slightly raised. “Oh God. Spike you’ve got to try this.”

Xander’s eyes snapped open and he felt his burgeoning erection disappear quickly. That Goddamn vampire was moving in on *his* best friends. *His* Willow and *his* Buffy and if anyone was going to be in the middle of a pornographic, obligatory lesbian scene, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be some bleached-blond, soulless, impotent bloodsucker!

Dropping his duffel bag, he wrenched the doorknob and flung the door open wide, too angry to care if anyone in the hallway saw what he was about to interrupt.

As the door slammed back against the wall, all three occupants of the room started guiltily. Xander opened his mouth to speak when the reality of the situation hit him.

All three were fully dressed; their lips ringed with some dark brown substance which Buffy was trying to get rid of with her tongue. “Er…hi Xander.”

“Buffy.” He said it as a statement, although it came out as more of a question. He was all confused. There had been moaning and sighing and the shuddery breath thing which could only mean…

His gaze landed on the box sitting between Buffy and Willow on the bed. It was open; the ribbon that had held it closed tossed by the wayside. There were two items left in the box, one of which Spike grabbed while Xander watched.

“Hey mate.”

A small card caught his attention and he stormed into the room. Opening it, he glared at both girls. “To Xander! From Anya!” If there was one thing worse than finding his best friends in a menage a trois with a vampire, this was it.

“For a demon,” Buffy offered him a pleading smile, “She makes really good cookies.”