Spike came home from his after-twilight prowl to find Xander sprawled on the floor, giggling.

"What's up, Pet?" the vampire asked, tossing his coat and sitting down bonelessly beside his lover.

"Look!" Xander held up a clay-like, flesh-colored chunk of stuff and displayed a picture of Santa he'd copied form the newspaper.

"Um, lovely pet, what is that junk?"

"Silly Putty! Watch!" Xander pulled on the stuff until Santa's red hat stretched to ridiculous lengths.

"Right." Spike said, not impressed.

"Oh, come on! It's great! You can copy anything from the paper and use it over and over!"

"Still not impressed, Pet."

"AND... it bounces."

"Ohh, ahh," Spike said sarcastically.

"Well pooh on you. Just the smell of it reminds me of the one week I spent at my aunt's house. She let me dig out all the past Sunday papers from her recycling and copy the color pictures."

Spike took a sniff of the wad and crinkled his nose. "Nasty chemical smell that is. Not like the newspaper, that's another thing."

"Newspapers don't smell."

"Sure they do, Pet." He picked up a still-folded section and handed it over. Xander took a sniff.

"Huh. Guess it does."

"Reminds me of my childhood."

Xander sat up, his toy forgotten. Spike rarely spoke of his human life.

"You played with newspapers?"

"Sure did! My mum taught me to make kites and hats and paper chains. There's all kinds of things you can make from newspapers. It was waste not want not back then."

Spike had a far-away look and a tiny smile as he fingered the newspaper. Xander watched as the vampire's nimble fingers tore, folded and tucked until he held a little square box.

"That's cool, Spike. Teach me some more?"