What's The Damage
Xander took a while to adjust to his new abilities. He kept forgetting just how strong he was. Nothing was really safe, not clothes or doors or food. He folded, spindled, mutilated them all to some extent.
His Sire developed a twitch that reappeared each time he 'oops'ed, a tiny tic just under his left eye. But Spike never shouted, never blamed or accused. Well, only once, and Xander managed to get the seams re-stitched, and he promised never to wear the coat again.
Eventually he learned he was allowed to make mistakes; that breakages weren't always repaid in kind.
Don't be A Hero
"Dammit, Spike, that stings!"
Xander tried to draw his face back from the abrasive cloth, but hardly managed to move a quarter inch.
"Serves you right for trying to take out three raging Grazn'rth demons. I told you to wait five minutes till I got there."
"But, Spike, they were..."
"I don't give a flying fuck what they were doing! By the time I'd got there you were on your knees in the mud. A minute later and I'd've turned that corner just in time to see you dust. I don't ever want to be that scared again!"
"What's the damage?"
"Let's see... You've got the chrome teardrop cockring for sixty five and the tiered glass plug for forty. The remote controlled plug is seventy five and with the vibrating Rubber Bondage Duckie that's an even two hundred dollars. I'll throw in a bottle of Astroglide for free as we're still out of those leather-scented candles your pet was asking for last week."
"Hey, I keep telling you I'm not a...!"
"Pet, let me pay the nice demon and we can go. We've got one more stop and then we'll head on home and try these out."