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Xander sighed for the umpteenth time that night. He'd been exercising the ol' diaphragm pretty regularly since earlier in the evening.
(The exhalation-related one in his chest, not the Feminine Ichors-related one that Anya had left for him to remember her by when she went on her World Vengeance Tour. Knowing Anya, she'd supernaturally rigged it to spy on him and/or exact bloody retribution if he had any orgasms without her)
Giles had told them that "some arcane wavelength emanating from the Underworld is causing supernatural gigantism among local Sunnydale invertebrates."
(which had led to a] Giles promptly collapsing from lack of oxygen- clearly he needed a diaphragm of his own- and b] Riley explaining to the gang that, de-anglofied, this meant that "The Hellmouth was making bugs big")
They had not had to wait long before Consequences and Repercussions had made themselves known.
-Willow and Tara had their hands full- literally- when Miss Kitty Fantastico ralphed up a hairball that rapidly disgorged dozens of cat fleas which rapidly grew to the size of space-hoppers, leaped out the window and began to suck the bejeezus out of Sunnydale U's student body.
(Granted this is not such an unusual situation at most colleges across the continental United States. For once however, even Sunnydale's resident Bong-Hitters, Van Wilder Wannabees and Vampire communities couldn't compete, and demanded action. And 1/3 also demanded munchies)
so Tara and Willow were now hitting local Walmarts for Flea Bombs roughly the size of Fatman
(either the atomic bomb or William Conrad- reader's discretion).
-Buffy had gone on patrol when reports of a Giant Meal-Worm on the rampage had surfaced. However, when she arrived downtown, she had discovered the train-sized grub peacefully and contentedly slurping on a grain silo.
(the phallic connotations of this act were, needless to say, staggering, and several leading psychologists had to be hospitalized with severe giggling)
So, even though she had been forced to confiscate the rods from several gleaming-eyed fisherfolk staring at the meal-worm and muttering something about "the live bait mother load", getting her Slayage on wasn't really needed, and she and Riley had gone to a local all-night Bakery to...er... protect it from future Meal-worm attack. Plus they did a jaffa-blueberry bearclaw that was just to die.
(Giles had placed a cautionary call to Japan, and was now waiting at Sunnydale Bus station/Airport for the arrival of a Japanese Watcher who had been based in Tokyo during three Mothra attacks, six Rodan assaults, and a Woody Allen instant noodle commercial)
Xander had immediately leapt to his favourite snacky treat's defense and had offered to personally stand watch over Sunnydale's Twinkie supplies, but Willow had pointed out that the last time he'd done that
(during a brief, embarrassing and flagrantly copyright infringing skirmish with Count Chocula)
it had taken three major Magickal Mojos to get the sugar crystals out of his blood, and so he was put on a generic patrol far away from anything that had a higher glucose content that dirt
(this being America, that was a lot trickier than it sounded)
And Spike had been sent to accompany him.
(Mostly because Graham Miller was getting tired of Number Seventeen's nigh-constant attempts to play Cupid with him and Riley. Firstly, Buffy would hand them their gonads on a little silver platter, possibly monogrammed with "I-told-you-so-love Giles". Secondly, Riley didn't care for doing man-maneuvers with recruits in his own unit, and thirdly, Graham was at any rate seeing a cute, blue-eyed Law student, who could do things with his right hand in bed that were positively *evil* and kept calling him an "Angel" at orgasm)
* * *
The little bell over the doorway dinged shrilly as the two men walked into the shop.
"See Xan? Ask not for whom the bell dings, it dings for thee!"
Silence. Uncharacteristic, frosty silence.
"Well, someone's in a bit of a snit then..."
"-Fine, I'll talk!" Xander threw his arms in the air. He never was all that good at snubbing people. Oh, he had the "Treatment" part down, it was just the "Silent" part he needed to work on.
(During the recent "Gentlemen" debacle, Xander's vocal chords had seriously considered seceding from his body and tracking down someone else who could fulfill their demanding babble-requirements. But Fran Drescher had been doing a book tour of Europe that week, so they'd grudgingly decided to wait the crisis out).
"-It's not that I'm pissed at being wrenched out of bed" Xander continued. "By you jumping in through the window at 3am... when I'm stark naked and having that dream about Dawson's Creek being declared a Nude Bea...actually, I guess "pissed" does begin to cover it."
"Well pardon me if I thought yer might wanna be included in a little fun."
"-Fun? This is your idea of fun?!" Xander windmilled his arms about them in an expressive arc, apologized to the three people he knocked flying, and continued.
(One of these people, a short, hairy man with a strange pronged hairdo, stepped after Xander with a "Watchit, Bub", but was restrained by a taller man in ruby-red sunglasses carrying a prescription for Industrial-Strength Visine)
Xander, meanwhile, was continuing his hissyfit. "...Spike, I know you're British and all, but I thought you at least were rebelling against the Prim and Proper Gene that has engulfed Giles whole."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Okay, first of all...Engulfed?"
Xander looked sheepish. "English finals."
"Ahh, right y'are then. Second of all...You sayin' I take after the Watcher?"
Xander cartwheeled his arms around them again, making sure not to inadvertently KO anyone this time. "-Well forgive me, my friend, but it does appear that you're taking us to see, in your own words, "a chemist". Add a couple of Devonshire Teas, some dusty books and a looped video of CORONATION STREET, and this could be a weekend with Giles, alright."
Spike's eyes flashed a dangerous sulfur. "*Never* speak ill of The Street, Whelp. And I didn't say *a* chemist, I said *The* Chemist."
Xander looks puzzled. "-So he's the top apothecary in his field...it's still only entertainment if something catches fire, explodes or melts. Hey, did I ever tell you about the time in Chem Class where Buffy managed three for three? That awful new hair dye she's been using must be really flammable, because she got too close to a Bunsen burner and-"
"Xander... 'Chemist' is the Queen's English for what you slovenly Yanks call a 'Drugstore".
Xander did a double-take. "Oh, well suddenly this trip makes a lot more sense. You could've warned me up front though, guy. I don't speak "Queen's."
Spiker muttered under his breath, something that sounded like "That's not what I've heard, mate."
Xander's ears, long-accustomed to picking up derogatory comments muttered under the breath of a certain whiny blond girl who played with pointy sticks
(and not just Avril LaVigne- he frequently heard *Buffy* badmouth him as well)
picked up most of the comment, listening closely as he always did to Spike's East-End burr, as it was like liquid, bottled sex
(Coincidentally enough, Angelus had *tried* bottling some of Spike's... liquid sex... some 150 years before, but unfortunately, the Master had mistaken it for a baldness remedy- a terrible scene had followed that we won't go into here)
"-What was that, Spike?"
"Uh... I said...er, that is..." the vampire looks around them, desperate to find a shiny distraction.
(Spike doesn't like seeing Xander made miserable every time Bitchy opens her mouth to do something other than burp- he's kind of crushed on the Whelp; Also, were Xander to get his Mope on whilst in Spike's care, a certain All-powerful Wiccan best friend might over-react in sympathetic retaliation, and a certain devastatingly handsome Cockney vampire might find himself suddenly transformed into a small, leg-intensive invertebrate or a particularly stinky type of cheese)
Inspiration strikes- as does Spike's long, pale arm- which plunges into the 'Personal Hygiene' shelf beside them and pulls a startled young man right through the Drugstore shelf into the aisle with them, amidst a shower of deodorants, pine leg waxes and several brands of leading hair conditioner with Cordelia Love Chase's picture beaming triumphantly at them from the label
(Cordelia had "persuaded" Angel to cash in favours owed to him by several Old World Coiffure Elementals in order for her to get the gig)
"I said... here's someone we haven't seen around much of late!" Spike beamed at his own cleverness even as he dusted Parker Abrams letterman jacket free of foot fungus powder and propped him on his feet before the surprised Xander.
Parker blinked. "~Xander Harris? Hey dude, it's been..."
Xander folded his arms. "-Six weeks?"
"~Yeah, I would've looked you up sooner..."
He casts a speculative, roving eye over Spike. "...Especially if I'd known what interesting company you were keeping, but I recently forgot my name. And my address. And most of the alphabet after 'B'. It's taken a month or so of SESAME STREET reruns, but Elmo is ready...er, Parker is ready for College Life again!"
Spike has cocked an eyebrow. "Amnesia, eh? What happened?"
Parker shrugs. "~I dunno. This librarian guy who witnessed everything? He said something about my 'Karma' catching up with me. But the last thing I remember seeing is this huge friggin' branch, so I guess this Karma thing must be some kind of tree."
Xander's smile is friendly enough, but his eyes are somewhat wary. "-So what brings you to Townie Town, eh Park? Plotting to get into the skirts of more unsuspecting freshman-women?
Parker reddened, embarrassed. "~No way. I don't swing that way anymore. Did you know I actually slept with Buffy? I could not *believe* I had sunk that low, man. I thought I had more respect for myself than that. I mean *Buffy Summers?*
Spike made a sympathetic face. "I think we've all been there, luv. The bint is a Long Dark Night of the Soul wrapped up in one whiny, egomaniacal package."
Parker smiled and continued. "~Yeah. So waking up beside her was like a wake-up call."
Xander chirps in. "-Exactly like in fact."
"~So I told myself I needed to stop compensating. I came out last week, and I feel great."
"-Came out of wha--you mean you're Gay?!!"
Spike's slow smile cranks up several notches until it hits Leer mode. "Well now, there's a merry coincidence." He drapes a languid arm around Xander'swaist and draws him close. "Me n' my boy Harris here was just talkin' about tryin' out some things that would require a third, male party entering our usual bedroom repertoire."
Xander looks askance. "-We were? And okay Spike, so we've been hanging out and kinda flirting recently, but since when do you and I have a repertoire that doesn't revolve around me tying you to pieces of furnitu-whoohahah of course we were, Park."
Xander maintained his smile whilst trying to work out how to get the undead hand that had just slid down the front of his pants to do what it had just done that again without getting them both arrested.
Parker grinned at them. "~Into bondage, are you? I could swing that way... so long as there's no pain or branches involved."
Spike's voice was admirably steady for someone with Xander Harris tonguing their earlobe. "Trust me Abrams- nothing wooden is going to be entering any orifices tonight. Or indeed any other night. Right, Xan?"
Xander smirks. "-I suppose not. I can think of better things to do with *that*-" he pointed to Spike's posterior- "than kick it."
Spike beamed as though the younger man had just asked him to either marry him or eviscerate a busload of nuns with a a potato peeler.
(What? You expect demons to have a Hallmark moment?)
Xander blushed." -Well Spike, since you brought me here to buy condoms- yes, I figured that part all out by myself- we might as well grab some and go."
Parker cleared his throat. "~Um, actually, I just cleared the store out." He shook his book-bag, and the contents shifted noisily.
As the three of them headed for the door and from there to the nearest available mattress, Spike's curiosity got the better of him and he peered inside the book-bag. His enhanced senses whorled at the sheer variety of colour, odour and shape of condoms on display inside the small hold-all.
"Bloody hell, mate! Just 'cause I'm nocturnal doesn't mean I can stay *up* all night, you know!"
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