*****

Gunn crossed his arms and glared. "No." It was the fourth time he'd said it, and he apparently thought repeating himself would help.

Angel sighed. "Do you really think they'd want a toaster?"

"I'm *not* going into Morrie's to buy a wedding present, or a shower present, or a *whatever* present, for those two. No. Uh-uh. I'm *not*."

Wesley had come into the room in time to hear the first 'no', but not any of the reasons for it. So far Angel and Charles has proven entertaining enough not to interrupt and ask. This time, though, there was new information. "Morrie's? They want their wedding presents from Morrie's?"

"That's where they registered," Angel answered, and then looked a little panicked.

Gunn turned around slowly. "Oh... hi, Wes."

"So, why don't you want to buy them a gift from Morrie's? I'm given to understand that it's not somewhere you've never visited yourself."

Gunn blinked at Wesley and then looked at Angel. "What the hell did he just say?"

"You've been there, why don't you want to go now," Angel said, and Wesley rolled his eyes. As if he needed a translator.

"I don't want to go there now, because going there *now* means going there now!"

Speaking of people who needed translating.... Wesley looked at him. "That makes it perfectly clear. Angel? Why don't you and I go purchase something for Spike and Xander? Charles needn't go with us--"

"No. Uh-uh, no way." Gunn had stepped forward to stand between them, as if trying to remind them that he was a big, black man who shouldn't be argued with. Or ignored.

"Fine, then, come with us."

Gunn appeared to be considering taking Wesley literally, as an alternative to going shopping. At least his eyes did that interesting thing where they filmed over and focussed on a point about three inches in front of his face. Then he shook his head, and his pupils contracted again. "No, *you* are not going to Morrie's!"

Wesley crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "*I* am not? I beg your pardon?"

"I am not taking you to Morrie's. Angel is not taking you to Morrie's. You are *not* *going* to Morrie's. Am I being clear enough for you, now?"

Wesley turned his astonished look on Angel, who just shrugged. The coward's way out. He looked back at Gunn. "Is there some reason I shouldn't be 'allowed' to go to Morrie's?"

Gunn opened his mouth to retort, and stopped. Perhaps Wes' tone had sunk in, and he realized how fine a line he was treading. Then he just glared. "Yeah. It's Morrie's."

Angel shook his head, his expression one of disbelief and sympathy. Wesley didn't buy it for a moment. "You two have been trying to keep me away from this place ever since I got Spike to tell me what they sell there. Why?"

Angel put up both hands, as if he was innocent of any wrongdoing. Which would have been more convincing if Wesley hadn't found Spike hanging by his collar from a light fixture the evening after the younger vampire had told him all about Morrie's in gleefully lurid detail. A light fixture that was too far off the ground for Gunn to reach.

Gunn was sputtering, a bit. Finally, he said, "It's *Morrie's*. The type of place people like Spike register at for their weddings!"

Wesley blinked, and waited. "And?"

"And...and...and you ain't going."

This was getting preposterous. "Are you trying to say that I'm too innocent and naive to encounter such a place as Morrie's? That I might faint dead away, or die from too much blushing?"

But Gunn was shaking his head, a tiny bit. In a low mumble, he finally explained, "If I take you in there, I'm gonna wanna try everything out on you."

Oh. Wesley took a moment to consider whether that was a compliment worth blushing over, and decided it was. Still. "I see no particular problem with this. What exactly do you object to?"

"They let you try things out *in the store*."

This place was sounding more and more interesting every time Wesley heard something about it. "Well, that makes sense. It sounds quite convenient, really. No unnecessary returns on items that don't fit properly. Or don't otherwise live up to one's expectations."

"Um, you *do* know what sort of items we're talking about, right?" Angel asked.

Wesley gave him a withering look. Angel withered.

"Do you honestly expect us to take you to Morrie's and get out of there without spending a thousand dollars and a few hours and not ever buy anything for the newt twins?" Gunn demanded.

Wesley tried somewhat to hide his smile. "Why, Charles, are you *embarrassed* to take me to Morrie's?"

Gunn shook his head. "No, I'm not *embarrassed* to take you anywhere, except rap concerts. I just don't..." He looked at the floor.

Wesley waited. Angel finally came to Gunn's rescue. "He doesn't want other people looking at you in Morrie's."

Wesley frowned. Then frowned a bit more, trying to decipher what that meant, and not liking the sound of it. "Isn't that what I just asked?"

"No," Gunn replied, then hesitated, thinking things over again. "I just don't want you there. Where everyone's gonna see you. See us trying to fit you for a-- why don't I just go by myself?"

"I see." And he did. It had taken him a while, but he did see. Why they didn't want him parading around in nearly-nothing swimwear. Why they didn't want to go to fancy restaurants with him, for dinner. Why they always both got so nervous whenever anyone mentioned the three of them having sex, or if *he* should flirt too blatantly with either, in front of someone else. He'd always told himself it was simply that his lovers were a tad possessive. He was beginning to think they might simply be embarrassed by *him.*

"Uh... you *do*?"

"Yes. If you'd rather not be seen in a place like Morrie's with me, that's...fine." He walked away from the both of them, just a few feet, and stared out the window. It looked as if it might rain.

"Wes, that's not what he meant." Angel was standing behind him.

"Well, then, explain it to me. Perhaps I need a translator." Perhaps they thought he was too thick to understand.

"What didn't I mean?" Gunn asked, his voice confused.

"That you didn't want to be seen with him there," Angel explained.

Wes sighed sharply when Gunn said, "I *don't*."

"Why don't you and Angel go, then. You can shop all you like, I'm sure they're open late enough for vampires." He started to walk away but Angel's hand was closed around his arm.

"That is *not* what he meant," Angel said, and there was a hint of things Angel usually didn't show his lovers. Not anymore. Wesley looked up at him. No, looked across at him. It was hard to remember that he was actually a hair's breadth taller than Angel. It was something about that ability Angel possessed to just *loom* over one.

"Then what did he mean? What do *you* mean when you say 'Not here, Wesley'-- 'No, don't wear *that*, Wesley'-- 'perhaps next time, Wesley' ? "

"It means we don't want anyone seeing you--" Angel began, and he must have seen how quickly Wesley shut down on the hurt he refused to let him see. It occurred to him that perhaps Spike had actually *been* lying when he'd assured him that Angel and Gunn wanted this as much as he did. But he couldn't walk out, because Angel still had a hold of his arm. "You belong to us," Angel was saying quickly. "If anyone else saw you the way we get to, you'd be out of here so fast we wouldn't have time to say 'no'."

Wesley didn't know how to take that, either. "Are you saying I'm fickle? Or embarrassing? I'm confused." It sounded as if Angel was saying that they *wanted* him, but only in the privacy of their own bedroom. Which gave a small shot of pride to the part of him that cared about his talents in that area, but it was rather a small part of him at the moment. It also sounded as if he was being accused of an infidelity, or a potential for it, that had never even crossed his mind.

"He's saying that if anyone saw you, naked, swimsuit, or surrounded by a bunch of sex toys, they'd fight us tooth and nail for the right to bring you flowers and tea," Gunn said, apparently having figured out what the problem was. Wesley looked at him, still feeling confused, even though what it sounded like he was saying, sounded...good. "And because I don't think I can control myself around you at a place like Morrie's, and I *don't* need to be dropping my pants in the middle of a retail store, no matter how used to it they are."

Oh. Perhaps it was possible to die from too much blushing after all? He looked out the window again, though this time it was mostly to hide the small, silly grin on his face. "You lot must think I'm as insecure as Xander is," he said after a bit. He suddenly felt two sets of arms going around him, and he was being held tightly, in between his two lovers.

"Actually, Xander isn't so insecure, anymore," Angel observed. Then he kissed Wesley's temple. Nuzzled a bit.

"Are we outta the dog house?" Gunn asked.

"Hmm. Possibly. You might try doing a bit of what Angel's doing, though. Just to be sure." Mmmm. Stereo nuzzling. Still looked as if it was going to rain, though. "It's rather amazing," he said, thinking back to Angel's comment.

"What, that we think you're hot?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, Charles, though the compliment is duly noted. That Spike, of all people, could bring about that much of a change in Xander." Though he still saw it, at times. Xander looking across the breakfast table at his lover, with a strange sort of wonder in his eyes. Rather like Wesley himself tended to look at Angel and Gunn.

"Spike can be very tenacious," Angel said.

"Hmm." Wesley tilted his head back, letting the nuzzling work its way along his neck. It felt very good, and helped reinforce the claim that his assumption had been wrong. Not that the voice wasn't still whispering that it was true, they just said these things to make him happy. But being held like this made it easy to ignore that little voice. Gunn started nibbling, and Wesley forgot what he'd been about to say about Spike.

"So..." There was something he was supposed to be arguing with them about, he was sure of it. "We...mmm... still have to get them some sort of engagement present. Didn't they register anywhere else?"

Angel stopped nuzzling for a moment. "Well... Home Depot, but we're not buying them anything there."

Wesley grabbed Angel's chin and firmly guided him back to his former activity. "What's wrong with Home Depot? That sounds rather wholesome, for those two." He realized the moment that he said it that it would require someone to stop nuzzling him again to answer, but it was too late.

It was Gunn who stopped, and demanded, "Do you *want* to know that much about their sex lives?"

Wesley turned to look at him, wondering if the man had missed part of the conversation. But Gunn shook his head, and said, "What do you think they want from there? chains, bolts, eye hooks...."

"Stop." Wesley held up a hand. "You're giving me mental images."

"Uh-huh. *Exactly*. I do *not* want to know. You don't want to know. Neither of us wants to know if Angel already knows."

Angel lifted his head long enough to say, "Hey--" before Wesley reached up and pushed his head back down where it was.

"They registered at the supermarket, too," Gunn said with a shudder. "I don't wanna go into details, but... vegetable aisle."

"Amazon.com..." Angel muttered into Wesley's neck. "The New Joy of.. something I don't want showing up on my credit card statement..."

"Your child is sick," Wesley commented.

"Oh, when he's registering for sex toys online, he's my sick child, but when he's beating your ass at darts and playing that 'Are You Being Served' drinking game with you, suddenly he's some kind of mature companionship?"

Wesley opened his eyes and slowly turned towards Angel. Not glaring, not looking hurt - but a nice mix of both. Not that he would stoop to manipulating Angel...unless he felt like it. "Are you implying that darts and drinking and British comedies are somehow equivalent to perverted sexual toys?"

Angel gaped, and from Wes' other side, Gunn snickered. "Better get your mouth back on his neck where it belongs, blood-boy."

"I just meant--" Angel began, and Wesley interrupted.

"You meant that none of the above activities should be discussed in polite company."

"No, I meant that... " Angel thought hard for a moment. You could actually *see* him thinking hard. His scalp twitched. "I don't have a problem with perverted sexual toys," Angel said at last.

"Oh, just Britishness?"

"No, just associating the perverted sexual toys with my sick British child."

"Ah." Wesley wondered if it was enough to let Angel off the hook. "So you don't want to know what Spike and I discuss during those 'Are You Being Served" drinking games?"

Angel whimpered. With a triumphant smile, Wesley allowed his lovers to go back to their nuzzling, unhindered. It was rather nice, really, nicer than watching them squirm as he tried to force them to say the things he really wanted to hear. But the question of gifts had not been resolved.

"I suppose I could go to Morrie's, by myself, to purchase their gift."

"NO!" They really sounded quite musical in chorus. Perhaps the three of them could arrange some sort of performance for the reception. They'd need a fourth for barbershop, but there was always Gilbert and Sullivan.

"You think I can't be trusted to pick out the right sort of items?" he asked innocently.

"I think you can't be trusted not to come home with a line of humans, demons, and whatnots trailing you with their tongues and tentacles hanging out." Gunn was frowning at him. "And don't tell me you wouldn't take them up on their offers - it ain't about that. It's about somebody who's not me and not Angel, seeing things they don't have any right to see."

"Besides, he wants to find out what you'd like, so he can buy it for you," Angel interjected. Wesley turned to him, astonishment changing to laughter as Gunn tried to yell at Angel without actually saying 'Do not!"

"I don.. I mean I do but... man, now I know where Spike learned all that crap he pulls. You stand there lookin' all innocent, like 'I've got a soul, I never do anything bad...'" Gunn glared at Angel, who continued to look like he had a soul and never did anything bad. Gunn sighed. "Fine. Let's go to Morrie's. But you're *not* trying anything on. Or out. Or in."

Wesley nodded gravely. He waited until Gunn and Angel had detached themselves from him -- some doing, since none of them were more interested in letting go than in not. But eventually they were untangled, last kisses applied, and heading for the door. Then Wesley asked in an innocent, perplexed tone, "Trying anything in? They allow that?"

"They have fitting rooms. Hell, they have fitters."

Wesley blinked. "Am I to understand that you can...." Well, there was no way to say it without blushing.

Gunn nodded. "You can. People do. They even have signs saying "no ejaculating in the aisles". Wes, please, let me and Angel go--"

"Oh, I think *not*." For some reason the thought of the two of them *alone* in a place like that led to images of the two of them... alone. Which, while physically attractive, didn't include him. Directing from a chair while they did everything to each other that he suggested was one thing. Allowing them to wander off together and play without him... "Shall we go?"

Gunn sighed, defeated. "Let's go. But I'm telling you *right* now that if anything slimy makes at pass at you, I won't be held responsible."

Wesley raised an eyebrow, then turned and reached over to feel the top of Angel's head. Angel gave him a confused look, which turned slightly murderous when Wesley said, "No, it appears to be dry-hold. Not slimy. Come on." He could hear Angel muttering under his breath as he lead them out of the room.

*****

"I don't see what's so bad about this place. I thought the fellow at the door was quite pleasant," Wesley said, looking around at the brightly-lit shop.

"Of course you did," Gunn muttered. He glanced at Angel. "Please, can I go back and beat him up?"

"No, we'll get thrown out." Angel shook his head. "We should find Spike and Xander's present before we hurt anybody."

Wesley ignored them, making his way down the first aisle. Everything appeared perfectly normal, for a sex shop. The shelves here were lined with videos, divided by category. "Oh, look, they offer human/vampire gay male movies." He stopped at a rather well-stocked portion of the video shelf. "Fangs and fur... No wait, that should be on the shelf above, with the vampire/werewolf films." Wesley looked closely at the young men on the back of the video box. "Er... that's never Oz, is it?"

Angel looked over his shoulder. "Um... I think you should put that away while I can still pretend I don't see the resemblance."

Wesley quickly slipped the box onto the correct shelf and continued looking. "Blood Wedding. Oo-- Goldeneye. It's a Bond parody."

Gunn was looking a bit further down the shelf, and suddenly grabbed Wesley by the arm. "Oh my God."

"What?" He put the video down and looked over at what Gunn was staring at. It took him a moment, but then he realized what had caused the alarm. "Scooby, Inc. ? Isn't that Xander's company? I didn't know he was into making movies." He reached over to pick one up, and was startled when Gunn took his hand and directed it towards one particular video. The title was 'All In a Day's Work' and the picture was of three men. One black, two white. The blurb across the top indicated that one of the men was a vampire. "Oh, dear."

Flipping the tape over, he began to read the descriptive blurb aloud. "By night, they're fighters of Evil, taking on whatever dangers the world can throw at them, with fangs, an axe, and a wicked British wit." Wesley smiled, pleased. "Wicked British wit? Really?"

Gunn did a magnificent impersonation of Angel's best growl. Wesley continued reading. "But during the day, the men known as Magnum, Eastley, and Dangermousse..."

Angel gave a better impersonation of his own growl. "*Dangermousse?"

"I kinda like Magnum," Gunn said thoughtfully.

Wesley read on. "retire to their private suite and... oh my."

"Oh my? How can it be 'oh my'? It's *already* 'oh my'," Gunn said, sounding ready to rip the box from Wes' hands.

Gunn stared at the box, then exploded. "WHAT? WHAT?! I'm gonna kill them. Slowly, quickly, I don't *care*. They're dead."

"What's wrong?" Angel asked, the only one not yet upset -- then he was handed the box, and he read aloud, "Fourth in the critically acclaimed series...." His gaze went flat. In a tone that sent chills down Wesley's spine, and not pleasant ones, he said, "Wesley, may I *pretend* that I'm evil again? Just for a few hours?"

Gunn's eyes lit up with a dark fire. "They sell things here, guys. Things you could do some *damage* with..."

"We could simply ask for a cut of the royalties," Wesley began, and took the box back. He scanned the shelves for the other titles. "Or... perhaps we should get one of them?"

He found Gunn and Angel staring at him, dumb-founded. "Are you out of your over-educated British mind?" Gunn demanded, his street-slang accent strengthening the words as it hadn't done in a long time.

Wesley wondered if he was supposed to be offended, or flattered. "Charles, don't you realize what they would do if we gave them a copy of this for their wedding?"

"Play it at the reception," Gunn answered seriously. "Those two *have* no shame, Wesley."

"And you think they would wonder why we were giving them this video?"

Gunn opened his mouth, then stopped. Tossed a quizzical look at Angel. "Ya think?"

"It might make them paranoid," Angel said thoughtfully. "That's usually a good thing."

Gunn shook his head. "I still think we should turn 'em back into newts."

Wesley smiled mysteriously. Gunn looked at him expectantly. Angel looked at him expectantly. Wesley smiled *more* mysteriously.

"WHAT?" Gunn finally asked, running his fingers over the top of his skull. "I got spiders on my head or something?"

"And *that* is the expression I'll be wearing when we hand them this gift," Wes explained. "Would you like me to teach it to you?"

"Oh, yes, please," Gunn said immediately, clasping his hands in front of him. "Please. I know I can't do that pout thing you got going--" He stopped as Angel whapped him on the arm. Angel turned an innocent look on him, when Wesley narrowed his eyes. "Not that we know you do it on purpose," Gunn offered quickly, which got him whapped again.

Apparently Angel had been taking lessons from Xander on keeping one's lover under control. It worked about as well as it did for Xander--- Gunn glared at Angel and stuck his tongue out. Then covered his face. "Now I'm channeling Spike. Wes, am I just easy to possess, or what?"

"I believe that is what as known as a straight line, and I'm not going to take you up on it," Wesley replied with a smile, and tucked the video into his shopping basket. "This *is* a rather inexpensive gift, however. Shouldn't we check with the management to see what they actually *registered* for?"

"We have to spend a lot of money? Who came up with that rule?" Gunn asked.

Wesley stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "Do you want them to remember us as being cheap, when it's time for them to buy *us* presents?" Then he walked away while Gunn was still gaping.

Angel was walking at his side, obviously trying to say something. As they reached the end of the aisle, the sound of Gunn's footsteps hurrying up behind them, Angel finally asked, "You do mean for the Feast of Saint Vigeous, right?" One of Spike's favorite gift-giving holidays. He also celebrated Guy Fawkes' Day, though Angel made him do it outside the city limits, and dragged an oath out of him *never* to let any of them know where he got the C-4.

"Of course," Wesley said, not even looking at them. What else would I mean?" Thankful that they couldn't see him grin, with his face turned away. He led them up to the counter at the back of the shop. "Pardon me..." he began, and three rather attractive young demons, mostly humanoid, converged on him from separate areas, smiling as if he'd just waved a thousand dollar bill in the air.

"What can we do for *you*?" The blond one asked, showing off a mouthful of teeth that put Angel's vamp-face ones to shame.

The redhead, who had a faint greenish tint to his skin, hissed a bit at his co-worker. "Hey, I saw him first!"

"Some friends of mine are registered here." He glanced at each of the three clerks, not even trying to pick one out. Whichever one was left after--

*Growl* He didn't have to glance back to know it was Gunn.

*GROWL* And there was Angel.

That left the bald one with the iridescent scales, who smiled politely. But not *too* politely. "Yessssss, sssssir? What issss the name of the party?"

"Harris and...." Wesley stopped. Looked at Angel. Angel shrugged. What would Spike have registered as? William T. Bloody? It wasn't as if he'd ever had to establish a legal identity, for anything useful like getting a job, or driving a non-stolen car.

The clerk typed industriously on his computer terminal for a moment, and then looked up. "The Harris-Jones party? Alexander Harris?"

"Er, yes," Wesley replied, but it was the expression on Angel's face that drew his attention away from the smiling clerk. It was similar to the one he'd been wearing when Spike and Xander had first announced their engagement, and Angel had thought no one was looking at him. He reached down and took Angel's hand, gave it a light squeeze. Angel started, then looked over, his face quickly becoming a simple expressionless Angel-look. Except for his eyes. They still glowed a little.

"There issssss a lissssssst," the clerk was ssssssssaying. He typed something, then the printer began printing. "Would you like me to help you locate thessssssse itemssssssssss?" He glanced at Angel, then Gunn, and looked considerably willing to let them search on their own.

Wesley considered stirring up more trouble, but decided against it. He was actually more interested in looking at the items with his lovers than in watching them intimidate yet another poor employee. "We'll take the list, thank you."

Once it was handed over, the three of them made their way to a central open area, a good place to read and decide which section to examine first. Angel still had a somewhat goofy look on his face, and Wesley smiled. "You realize, aside from the fact that he's decided to use your name, or rather, your completely illegal alias, as his own..."

Angel blinked questioningly.

"It means he's registered as Spike Jones?"

Angel just looked at him. "Huh?"

Wesley sighed, though Gunn was now giggling. "Come on, Angel. Let's go check out the..." He read the first item on the list. "Gates of hell?" He looked at his two lovers, wondering if he wanted to ask.

Gunn shifted his eyes. "It's...um..."

Wesley lifted an eyebrow. And they thought *he* was going to expire from blushing? Gunn might have thought he had an advantage in that you couldn't really *see* him blush, but his ears sort of contracted to the sides of his head, and his nostrils flared. Finally Gunn set his lips together in straight line, stalked around the corner, and returned in a few moments with a package, which he placed in Wesley's hand.

"Oh. Rings. And they... yes. I see." Rather like a set of cock rings strung together, and once one had it on, they wouldn't come off until the wearer had--er-- done so as well. "That could be quite amusing."

"Amusing ain't the word for it," Gunn managed, sounding like he'd rather be back at the video section, finding out what the perverted population of Los Angeles knew about his sex life.

Wesley looked up at him, one eyebrow rising. "And do we have some personal experience with the item in question?" He laughed at the glare Gunn gave him.

*****