faerialchemist
"Thanks for the invite. But I don't intend to grace your party with a Desmond's presence."
"Oh, really?" Becky says, and the coyness of her voice sends a shiver down Damian's spine. She leans forward, one hand cupped to faux-whisper in his ear. "By the way-you're only invited, Damian, because Anya wants you there."
The heat of a thousand suns rushes to Damian's face as he jerks away from Becky. "You-she-what?!"
(Or: It's Becky's seventh birthday. Nothing will happen that will make Damian lose his composure. Especially not with Anya. Right?)