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In With the Tropical Breeze

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Anya laid on their bed and felt a tropical breeze run over her nose and lips. She frowned and tugged at the top of her sarong. Rupert had been promising her a vacation for two years and, finally, they were in Mexico. But Rupert's cellphone was still attached to his ear.

She sighed and thought about throwing it into the pool below. "Rupert."

Rupert waved his hand at Anya and continued conferencing with some incompetent Watcher and a disgruntled Slayer. Slayers were always disgruntled about something; at least that's how it seemed to Anya. Anya didn't recall being that dissatisfied when she had superpowers. But maybe she had been and hadn't noticed.

Sighing, Anya stood up on the bed. If the sarong was going to fall off, she might as well take it off. Slowly, she undid the knot at the top and let the orange and yellow material fall from her body.

She heard Rupert tell the angry people that they could solve their own damn problems. Anya smiled.

"I think I'm enjoying this new look," Rupert said.

Anya leaned over and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Glad you like."