• Mood: tired
• Music: democracy now — confessions of an economic hit man

Paranoia

Feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise, Xander spun around; the movement was swift and sure like a panther with a large pink feather duster.

Anya was serving a customer, Dawn was studying and Spike was picking his nails with a knife.

As Xander narrowed his eyes in suspicion, Dawn looked up from her work, asking Spike a question. Books were opened, paper was shuffled and, Xander assumed, questions were answered, as Dawn returned to her work and Spike went back to playing with his knife.

Something was off, but Xander couldn't put his finger on it.

open_on_sunday — challenge #86: watching
Part of the Mischief!verse