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Once More, With Squealing

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The next morning arrived and Anya sat up in bed, having just woken up, full of unfulfillment. She noticed Xander wasn't next to her, and so, figuring that maybe he'd had trouble sleeping, she got up, clad in her sexiest red lingerie, not that it had made any difference last night, and headed to the kitchen. There she found Xander, standing next to the stove. He was wearing his red speedos that, as with Anya the night before, he now had trouble filling.

"You want some breakfast, baby?" Xander asked, determined to please his bride-to-be somehow.

"You don't have to get to work?" Anya asked.

"I shut the crew down for the day. My guys start dancing around sexy, we'd get a whole Village People vibe."

"Couldn't you just try and stop them?"

"You can't stop the music," explained Xander, suddenly serious. "Nobody can stop the music." Then his voice flipped back to its usual more jovial tone, "So, waffles?"

A big smile crossed Anya's face, lighting up the room. "That sounds like a cue for a song if ever there was one."

Xander started to reply, but by then the music was starting up and his voice was fading out, while Anya turned away from him and started singing, confiding to no-one in particular:

This is the dude cooking food who I'm glued to
Isn't he great?
Give me a trough and I'll scoff all the waffles
That he can make
I've lived a vengeful life
But now I'll go and be his wife
The only trouble is...
He'll never swell

Now it was Anya's turn to start talking, but Xander ignored her as he abandoned his waffle-making and started to sing:

This is the dame with a name that's changing
Its surname to mine
We will be wed and in bed and embracing
Our bodies entwined
I'll always love her so
And never fail to let her know
There's just one thing that - D'oh!
I'll never swell

At that point Anya joined with him to sing the next line, as they both stared down forlornly at his speedos:

And there's not much to swell

Anya, sad about the disappointing way the song was going, and its tragically retro nature, grabbed hold of Xander by his speedos and led him into the living room, hoping to liven things up. She pushed him down onto a dining chair and straddled him, grinding her body against his in time to the music. She was hoping this would raise more than just his eyebrows.

"It droops," Anya sang, as sexily as she could muster.

"It wheezes," Xander sang back excitedly, all of his body aroused, except for the important part.

"Say 'foreplay' and it freezes."

"She tries some sleazy teases, but it won't revive."

Her hand moved down to his speedos, but still there was no joy.

"It balks at my squeezes."

"But nothing she does pleases."

"His penis has deceasedness, it's just gone and died."

She finally lifted herself up off from him, sadness on her face. As she walked away from him, Xander got up from his seat, looking away from her.

Together they sang, in a downcast fashion, "The vibe gets kinds of gloomy."

Xander elaborated, "Like these speedos seem so roomy."

"Like he's never gonna do me."

"Like I hope that she won't sue me."

"But that's all very well," they continued, as they turned toward each other, their voices together once more. "'Cause, oh no, I'll never swell."

Xander was kind of glad that Anya had also used the word 'I' in that last line. He saw it as a sign of her being supportive and seeing his problem as her problem, and in no way being because it just made it easier for them to duet or that with their current relationship she figured she owned his penis anyway.

While he mused on this, he saw a copy of Playboy that Anya had left on the table, no doubt in an effort to try and arouse his bashful beast. If things got much worse, he'd end up having to read the articles. As he lifted the magazine, and the centerfold opened before him, Anya started her musical commentary:

When it gets bored he
Just likes to think of Cordy
And other sorts of naughty
But it still doesn't grow

Xander looked down at his speedos and lamented:

Now look, it's weedy
It's barely even 3D
It never -

Anya interrupted, "Its eye is beady!"

"This is my curse, y'know."

Anya ignored his words, and started shimmying provocatively, sizzling like the forgotten waffles. "Look at me! I'm dancin' sexy!"

She continued her sultry swaying, as Xander stared at her dumbfounded, and then, when the beat was just wrong, he decided to join in, clumsy and out of step with her, the two of them in perfect disharmony as they danced around the living room.

As the music continued, they started walking towards each other, gazing into each other's eyes.

"You know..." they began.

Xander continued, "You're quite enchanting."

"I love your man thing," responded Anya, as they held hands.

Xander complimented her as his eyes wandered over her:

Of the Scoobies, you're the beauty
With your lips that taste so fruity
And your toned yet bouncy - tight embrace

They held onto each other and danced, their worries seeming to melt away as romance washed over them. Finally, they sat themselves down at either end of their living room table.

Anya sang, "He's sweet."

"She's sweeter."

"He couldn't get much neater."

"Just wish I could delete the fears I have inside," confessed Xander.

In turn, Anya shared her fears:

I've known curses
Their symptoms could fill verses
And what I fear much worse is
This may not subside

They got up and climbed on the table, singing as they inched closer to each other:

It's bad
We know it's queasy
It's sad
But it may never get well

Their faces, now close together, turned away, as they sat, their backs resting against each other.

Xander sang, "Will failure get to be a habit?"

"Will I get my thrills with a rabbit?"

At this suggestion, Xander moved away from Anya, getting off the table. "Will she have so much enragement that she calls off the engagement?"

She also lowered herself to the floor, as they paced around the table. "Is it really that important if he never gets engorgement?"

"Is it sleepy?"

"Is it dreamin'?"

"Will my balls explode with semen?"

Together they finished the verse, their hands joining once more:

We had better dream some scheme 'n'
Go destroying this spell
Or, oh no, I'll never swell
I fear that I'll never swell

"My pants are sealed," said Xander.

"It needs a lift," observed Anya.

"Nothing to see, barely a schlong."

Finally, at the end of their tether and their song, their voices reunited for the final line:

I'll never swell

They collapsed onto the sofa together, both sobbing uncontrollably, too busy to notice their kitchen erupting with flames of a waffly nature.