There was a bit of rustling and whispering, then the movie began. The traditional numeric countdown picked up at 3 -- and you had to be watching carefully to notice the eyes on each number. Then the movie began. Opening shot, Spike and Xander in Xander's office. There were immediate catcalls, and shouts of "goofing off at work, eh, Xan?"

Then the angle switched -- and you could see the two were playing Chutes and Ladders. "You cheated," Spike accused, and Xander looked resolutely innocent--even while the camera zoomed in on the hand that he held behind his back, containing a second pair of dice.

Spike in the audience turned to his fiance and repeated the accusation. Xander just smiled at him. Spike smiled back. Evil behavior from Xander was, after all, a turn-on for him. Of course, the Host reflected, *any* behavior from Xander was a turn-on for Spike.

On the screen, Spike's marker slid all the way down the longest chute on the board. There were titters throughout the room, and someone said rather clearly, "When's the sex start?"

"Think they're playing Strip Chutes and Ladders?" someone else asked.

There was a burst of laughter and a dozen or more "SHHHH!"s. The scene suddenly stopped, and was replaced with a grainy, slightly flickering view of a backyard.

There was a confused sort of silence, then all of a sudden a boy ran onto the screen, and tumbled onto the grass. As he rolled over onto his back, it was very, very obvious who the five year old was. Dark hair, cut short on one side, but longish on the other-- as if somebody who shouldn't have them had gotten hold of a pair of scissors and been doing naughty things with them. Dark eyes about the size of dinner plates, or at least saucers, and a bright grin-- with one front tooth missing.

At the grooms' table, there was what might technically be classified as inappropriate touching going on, but since it was Spike taking Xander's hand, a concerned look replacing his initial goofy gaze at the screen, the Host doubted anyone would take them to task for it. Grown-up Xander was looking a little confused by the clip, giving his fiance a faint echo of his child-self's grin, then returning his attention to the screen. The five year old boy swung a toy sword almost as long as he was-- and held it aloft. "By the power of Greyskull-- I have the power!" he chanted.

There was laughter again, throughout the room. The Host overheard Gunn saying "What a dorky lookin' kid." There was the sound of a hand hitting an arm, then Gunn added, "You're saying that's not dorky lookin?"

Angel hissed something that must have worked, because there was suddenly a lot of silence coming from that table. On the screen, young Xander was now chasing invisible bad guys around the yard, and they could hear a woman laughing, and calling his name.

The scene ended, and was replaced by an elderly couple sitting on a couch, looking at the camera. They both smiled, and the woman said, "I hope you don't mind, we gave that lovely young woman the movie to copy."

The man gave a half-laugh, and said, "Be glad we didn't give her the one with you and that diaper."

The woman whapped his arm, and shushed him, before smiling at the camera again. "Have a nice time, boys!"

A glance back at the matrimonial table revealed Xander looking a bit shellshocked, but not in a bad way. He said something softly to Spike, who was now humming 'When I'm Sixty-Four,' and the Host got a flash of some things he maybe hadn't wanted to know about Xander's family life-- accompanied by Spike's overwhelming urge to protect that five year old, and the man he had become, from anything that had ever, or could ever, hurt him.

Xander pointed back at the screen, and the Host joined Spike in returning his gaze to the film. A hand-lettered card was being held in front of the camera. In scrawly, childlike printing, the legend read: 'The Adventures Of One Undead Guy And The Puppy-Boy.' Beneath it were two stick figures-- a brown-haired one with a faint stubbly beard, and a blonde one with big blue eyes, and blood-dripping fangs.

The placard was pulled away to reveal two giggling figures, one blonde, the other brunette-- except the brunette's hair wasn't on quite straight. The 'guy' and the 'boy' weren't, exactly, either. The two took their positions in the cemetery, and Buffy-er, Puppy Boy got a very determined look on 'his' face. "I'm gonna hunt any evil dead guys I can find!" he said in an almost deepened voice.

"Oi!" said Undead Guy. "Don't try anything around *my* crypt, Puppy-Boy! I'm not afraid of you!" Harmony's British accent was eerily dead-on.

Xander brandished a stake, and struck an attack pose in front of Spike. "I'm gonna slay you, dead guy, so watch out!"

"Will not!"

"Will too!"

"Will not!"

"Will too!"

Then 'Xander' threw the stake down, and the two fell into a deep embrace. A second placard was raised in front of the camera, which read "The End except for the bit where Spike takes his Puppy Boy to a nice restaurant for dinner and behaves the entire time until dessert."

An aggrieved protest from Spike. "Well, *that* never happened, I can tell you for sure."

"Yeah, you've never taken me out to a restaurant in your unlife," Xander replied. "And you've never behaved until dessert when I've taken *you* out. I'm lucky if we get through the salad course."

"Not my fault I can't enjoy a meal without a bit of an appetizer," Spike responded, reaching for Xander across the table. Only to get his arm whapped by at least three different people.

Spike gave them each a glare that was getting harder and fiercer each time he glared it. The Host suspected it was just frustration, and didn't waste any sympathy on him.

The next scene opened, with Willow and Tara sitting at a table.

"Oo! The lesbian make out scene!"

Peanuts and pretzels went flying towards the interruption. But the Host noticed that Xander and Spike were watching eagerly. Willow and Tara were doing something, paperwork of some kind or another.

They kept doing it.

And kept doing it.

Willow looked over and asked, "Tara, do you have the rest of the instructions for the 1040 long form?"

"Yeah, here," Tara replied, and handed over a booklet.

"Do you think we should try to deduct the router cable Amy chewed though as a business expense, or just claim her as a dependent?"

"They haven't let us claim her the last four times we tried, and the guy at H&R Block said he doesn't foresee rat exemptions on the horizon any time soon."

"Sigh. Go with the router-loss, then. Hmm.. that means I need the 7065-Z worksheet..."

After about two more minutes of tax-preparation, accompanied by hissing and booing from the audience, the two witches looked up at the camera, smiled. "Think we should flash 'em, since they put up with all the boring stuff?" Willow asked. Then she looked out at the audience. "You guys think we should flash you?"

A resounding 'yes' echoed from around the room-- including from Rupert, who suddenly became terribly interested in his bowl of beer-nuts when the Host looked at him with amusement.

"Okay, I guess you guys deserve it. Ready, honey?" Tara nodded, and the two witches flashed the audience-- literally, with a blinding flash of light. When the whiteness cleared from the screen, the scene had changed.

"That was *not* bloody fair!" Spike said. The sentiment was echoed throughout the room.

The Host did hear someone saying, "Is that really what lesbians do?" Then there were more flying peanuts.

The dark screen slowly began to lighten, and as the picture became more visible, the noise quieted again. Soon Angel could be recognized. They watched as he raised a glass and tipped it. A dark, thick liquid began pouring out, and the shot slowed down. The vampires in the room leaned forward as the blood dripped in slow-motion. The camera panned down, following the leading edge of the blood...

And there was a scream of disgust as the camera shot caught Angel's feet -- wearing thick, fluffy, green socks.

"Eeeeeeeeeew!"

Spike rather looked as if he was going to throw up-- something the Host had never actually seen a vampire do. Not even Angel, when Spike had revealed that he'd put fish food in Angel's steak tartar. Courtesy-of-Drusilla fish food, which meant it had still been wriggling.

Well, the green socks should keep the grabby-hands-boys from grabbing for at least five minutes or so, while Spike recovered. Xander didn't look too pleased with the fluffy footwarmers either, although the Host noted that the blood-shots had elicited, if not exactly the same reaction as the vampires had shown, at least a not unfavorable one. Perhaps it was just the look on Spike's face that Xander had been reacting to.

The scene changed again, to a shot of Spike and Xander's fish tank. For a few moments no one said anything, as they waited. They watched the piranhas swimming, and Spike whispered, "See? Told ya -- she's getting fat."

The Host heard Gunn muttering again. "This is the *freakiest* damn stag film I've ever seen."

"Does that mean you don't want your copy?" Angel asked him.

"Hell, yeah I want my copy!" Gunn replied. "Wanna see you in your socks." There was a pause. "Just your socks." Then *that* table was distracted.

Everyone else was watching the calming scene of fish, swimming. The Host noticed Spike and Xander returning to their groping-can-we-kiss-now-sneaking. He smiled. Ten more seconds, and....

"Stop that! Right *now*!" Joyce Summers scolded them.

A chorus of 'Eep!' from the grooms' table, then the two men were staring open-mouthed at the screen.

"If you keep making that face, it'll freeze that way," she warned.

Two soon-to-be-married mouths snapped shut, but brown and blue eyes were still bugging out.

"Now sit up straight!"

A millisecond later, The Host didn't think he'd ever seen two straighter gay men in his life. With the exception, possibly, of Angel and Gunn, who had also sat up suddenly in their chairs, much to Wesley's amusement.

A few seconds of silence, and a tiny "why?" escaped from Spike's lips, too quickly for Xander's head-whap to stop it.

"Because I said so!"

Spike looked utterly terrified. He leaned across to his fiance. "How is she *doing* that?"

"Because I'm the mom!"

Spike was now gaping at the screen...along with several others in the room. The Host noted that there were significantly fewer slouching guests in the crowd. Even Rupert was sitting upright, and he was at least smirking, instead of looking shocked.

Spike and Xander looked at each other, obviously afraid to say anything more, for fear of earning Joyce's pre-taped wrath.

Finally, they both turned to the screen and said, "We promise."

Joyce smiled, and nodded. "Don't forget to tell everyone 'thank you'. And wipe your face, Xander."

Xander rubbed at his face immediately, then turned bright red. The Host didn't even want to guess at what would be n his face that would cause him to blush that particular shade-- especially after having lived with Spike for as long as he had.

Spike giggled at the sight of his soon-to-be husband wiping off nonexistent something-or-other-- until Joyce said "Stop that, Spike!" from the screen.

The frightening thing was, it really was pre-recorded. Willow had told the Host as she was handing him the tape, that she and Tara had suggested that Joyce come in and hide behind the curtain, broadcasting via live camera-- Joyce had merely smiled kindly at them and said it wouldn't be necessary.

He wasn't terribly surprised. He'd known mothers before, a plenty. They were spookier than most demons he'd met -- or even read about.

Right now, Joyce was looking at the two grooms, who were looking back with sheepish expressions. Then she nodded, as though satisfied, and started to turn away. She stopped and peered at someone else in the crowd. She raised her finger in a scolding gesture, and the man sharing David Nabbit's table--Jonathan something?-- shouted, "I didn't do it!"

Joyce just nodded, and the scene ended.

"Can we please stop the movie?" Xander asked in a shaky voice. "Does it get any scarier? Can we have more naked people?"

"No, possibly, and very likely," the Host answered with a smile. The next scene showed the pool at the Hyperion-- the setting for the actual wedding ceremony. A single female figure swam back and forth in it-- Cordelia Chase, powerful and athletic, cutting through the water like an Olympic swimmer-- until, suddenly...

"Eek! Spike, you *will* die for this!" She swam rapidly to the edge of the pool, scrambled out, shrieking and kicking, until at last the piranha flew off her ankle and back into the pool. The camera followed it as it swam to meet its siblings, and they did an entertaining water ballet to the accompaniment of 'Three Little Fishies.'

Spike and Xander were snickering, and the Host could hear someone that sounded a lot like Angel trying to stifle his snickering. The camera swung up, again, to catch Cordelia walking calmly towards the pool again. There was a towel wrapped around her ankle, and she was carrying something in a bucket. "Here, fishies, fishies...." She smiled widely.

Spike cried out, "No! My babies! Stop her-- uh... when was this filmed?"

Xander, however, didn't look terribly concerned. In fact, he was snickering even louder.

Cordelia reached into the bucket and pulled out a small brown newt. That got a laugh from almost everyone in the room, except those friends and relatives from out of town who hadn't visited the boys at the hotel before. They included Jonathan, whose puzzled look disappeared as David Nabbit leaned over and whispered into his ear, and Devon, who looked mystified but cheerful.

"Go! Swim, be free!" Cordelia addressed the newt, and tossed it into the pool.

It paddled about desperately, as the sharp-toothed little fish made a beeline.. er, piranhaline, for it. When the largest of the piranha-- which looked to the Host, who had two of his own at home, like it might just be about to lay eggs-- got close enough to nip at the newt's tail, Cordelia shouted, "Now, Wesley!"

A flash of light from the pool, and the endangered newt was suddenly a very naked Spike, who cursed loudly and emerged from the water with one piranha attached to his Spikehood, and two nipping at his bare ass.

Xander was laughing louder, now. In fact, the Host wasn't sure that he wouldn't fall out of his chair, soon. Beside him, Spike was pouting. Xander caught sight of the pout, and laughed louder -- until the pout sharpened and Xander leaned over and whispered something in Spike's ear.

Spike's expression changed rapidly to one of sheer lust -- making the Host think that Xander had reminded Spike of the 'kiss it and make it better' that no doubt had occurred following the bitings. Which meant that someone needed to whap those two, again - or dump a bucket of ice on them. Which they had plenty of behind the bar, reserved. Not for drinks.

The rest of the audience was laughing uproariously, always a good sign. A few were glancing appreciatively back and forth between the naked Spike on the screen and the jeans-and-t-shirt-clad Spike in the audience. Pretty much the same out-of-towners who hadn't known who the newt was. Not that naked Spike wasn't worth appreciating, but anybody who had known him for more than a week, at least since he had moved to L.A., had seen it all before.

The *next* scene, however, might be a bit of a thrill for anybody outside of immediate family and those who had been unlucky enough to catch Spike and Xander in a compromising position *off* the hotel grounds. Which was rarer than one would imagine. Spike could control himself, when he wanted to; or at least, Xander could control him, when *he* wanted to.

It was just that they didn't *want* to, when they knew they could get away with it. Getting away with it usually meant not getting caught -- by anyone outside a certain select group of people Spike and Xander liked to annoy and/or tease by allowing themselves to be caught by.

All of which meant, most people in the world hadn't seen what they were about to see.

The scene looked like the interior of a bar. The bar was dark, but it was obvious it was empty, or mostly so. Music began, and the curtain rose. Xander stepped out, dressed to the nines in a tux.

In the audience, Spike's eyes were glued to the screen, and the Host didn't need the flashes he was getting as Spike sang along with the opening lyrics-- they pretty much matched what everyone was seeing on the screen. To a slow, dip-jazzed backbeat, Xander moved downstage, staring and smiling at somebody in the otherwise-empty bar, and there was no doubt in the minds of anyone whose minds the Host could access, as to who that somebody was.

"If you want a lover, I'll do anything you ask me to..." The Xander onscreen was moving his lips to the words. Moving his hips to the words. The Host wasn't sure what Xander in the audience was doing-- he himself was staring too hard at the screen.

This particular sequence was the reason for Morrie's shelf full of tapes. Well, those who knew any of Xander and Spike's friends would enjoy the rest. But total strangers would pay $31.95 for the privilege of seeing this. This man, throwing his head back slowly, moving his hands slowly to the lapels of his jacket, and letting it fall to the ground.

Xander continued to dance, slowly and more sensually than either of the professionals who'd graced the stage earlier. Perhaps it was because the performance had been for his lover, only. Perhaps it was the music.

Probably a combination of both. The Host realized he was analyzing this far too much, even if he had seen this twelve times already. His and everyone else's thoughts hushed as the chorus picked up and Xander began stalking his lover.

"The moon's too bright and the chain's too tight, the beast won't go to sleep..."

The Host was busy trying to juggle the flashes of images of Xander -- or other various persons -- wrapped in chains, under the moon. When the line 'I'd crawl to you baby' played through the speakers, a half-dressed Xander fell to his hands and knees and crawled down the stage.

It was a move from a feature film that had come out a few years ago, the Host had realized the first time he saw it, but Wil Smith hadn't been wearing only dress pants, a cummerbund, and a bow tie when he crawled across the floor to meet his leading lady, and he hadn't been crawling to meet Spike. There was really no comparison. Just for a second, the camera shifted off Xander, to show an utterly transfixed vampire sitting alone in the bar.

Staring at the stage with a hunger that had nothing whatsoever to do with blood. The Spike live -- er, undead -- in the audience now, was a mirror image of his filmed self. The only difference was the apparent awareness of the man beside him, holding his hand and tickling his other hand up Spike's thigh. The Host checked the clock - after nine. Spike and Xander could sneak into a back room for 20 minutes without catching hell.

Which was a good thing, since otherwise there would be a floor show....

Which would be entertaining, in and of itself, but then everyone --well, almost everyone, except for the few nominally straight guys in the audience-- would want to have sex. The Host wasn't insured for orgies. Morrie was, but he'd lost the coin toss. Neener neener.

Spike now looked like he was having serious difficulties-- choosing between watching Xander dance on the screen--especially as he was down to bow-tie and underwear-- or tearing his attention away to give it fully to the real live Xander next to him.

Living Xander saw his dilemma, and solved it for him-- after a fashion. Rising from his chair, he pulled Spike's away from the table, and sat down on his lover's lap. Great, the Host thought. Floorshow, here we come. But no. Xander took both of Spike's hands in his, and they watched the last of the scene together.

There were lots of hopeful glances sent their way, but Xander and Spike continued watching the screen, where Xander had pulled the bowtie free and dropped it on Spike's head, and was grabbing the fabric of his underwear.

The Host could hear even the non-breathers taking a gasp of air. When Xander-on-screen yanked the fabric away, there was the sudden sound of someone tumbling out of his chair. The Host didn't turn to look yet to see if he were all right. The slinky, shiny, sequined, tiny G-string was taking up most of the screen, now -- or perhaps it only seemed that way.

Then Xander turned and moved slowly down the runaway, away from the audience. There was a flash on the screen as someone lost control, and leapt upon Xander. Then the scene ended.

The Host heard growling.

Difficult to identify the source, since it was coming from at least three directions. One of them was *definitely* Spike, another was either Angel or Gunn and the third? Surely not the little bass player with the dyed-blue hair?

Or possibly from the next table over, where two guys, one white, one black, in sunglasses, Blues Brothers hats, and pitch-black suits were sitting. The white guy kept fingering a pencil-shaped object he was holding, and his tablemate whapped his hand every so often, just as if they were Xander and Spike. The last time it had happened, the Host had distinctly heard the younger man say "Quit messin' with the joy-buzzer, K. I wanna *remember* this."

Xander had some odd friends. Which was a pretty big statement coming from a green, empathic, prescient demon with impeccable dress-sense. The Host glanced back to Spike and Xander, and wasn't surprised to see them sneaking away from their table towards his office. Well, Xander *was* paying a hefty sum for the party -- he'd give them 20 minutes on his couch, then chase them out.

Someone else had other ideas. "Hold, it right there, busters! You aren't going anywhere!"

*****