"Okay!" Cordelia crossed her arms across her chest. "*No* more kissing! Just stop it! I don't suffer *enough* with my *visions* of horrors? I need to keep seeing Spike and Xander kisses right in front of me? In the *flesh*? No! I don't!"

Xander sat down on the couch. "Man. Sure could use some TV, right about now." He looked at Cordelia and smiled. "I mean, *really* what's better after bullet removal and sex than T.V?"

"Gee, I don't know. How about a shower?"

"Naw. Not yet." Xander grinned and wiggled, enjoying his stickiness. "I'm okay."

"How about death by former girl friend? Is that a good 'after' thing? Cause I can do that."

"Nope." Xander spread his arms out across the back of the couch as he settled further down into the fluffy comfort of the couch. "That come's *way* down on the list of things to do after bullet removal and sex in a blood stained bed."

"I'm gonna call the Watcher." Spike said, interrupting Cordelia's gagging.

"Yes! Good idea. Call Giles. Go *home* you two!"

"Well, then, get me the bleedin' phone!"

"Oh? What? You don't know where it is by now? You guys have been here, like, for *ever* now!"

Spike made a face at her. "It's been me in a Bleathvore cage for *hours*, pet, and no I don't know where the phone is. Be a dear and *give* it to me!"

"Well. Everything seems to be nice and settled. I'm just going to take Danielle here to a place she can get some rest. If you need me. . .I'll be, um, unavailable, so please, let's try and not need me." Wesley rose and led the vampire out of the room.

Cordelia grabbed Spike's arm and pulled him towards the kitchen, muttering beneath her breath.

"What's that? You'd *like* to give it to me? Cordy! Really? Well, maybe we could. . .Hey! This is just some sick game of I can have my ex-boyfriend's *current* boyfriend, if I *want* to, innit? Shame on you! Slut! But, well, revenge *is* important, isn't it? I understand. So if you wanna have your nasty way with me, *fine*. Do me." Spike held out his arm towards Cordelia, his wrist limp, and his hand hanging. "I ask only that you be *gentle*."

Cordelia stopped in front of the phone and pointed to it. "You are so *not* funny, Spike!"

"Liar. I'm *damn* funny." Spike picked up the phone and dialed Giles' number. "And I'm *cute*, too. You want me. You *know* you do." Spike winked at her.

"Spike! I *so* do not! You-

"Yes." Spike spoke into the phone. "Coroners office, Los Angels county." Spike spoke with a nasal American accent. "We are trying to reach the next of kin of one Alexander Harris. Do we have the right number? Ah, that's so *touching*, Watcher." Spike pulled the phone away from his ear. "*I* thought it was funny!" Spike mumbled, placing the phone back at his ear. "But, I've come to the conclusion that every one I know these days lacks humor. He's *fine*. I was *joking*. Yes, well, I *am* a vampire. What? *No* you can't. He's in the other room. Dammit, if he were dead I'd *tell* you! No I am *not* going to go and get him! Oh, for. . .Hey! Watcher! Is your *slayer* still alive? Yes? Wanna *keep* her that way? Yes. Well, I, *we*, Xander-the still very much alive *Xander*-and I, have the thing. It's a bowl. How's about *that*? A *bowl*. It looks like a plain old *bowl*. The kind you'd put cereal and milk in, *not* the type you'd grind up bones in. *Those* are the bowls *I* like. Yep, the Bleathvore's had it. Cool bunch, they were. Did I? Well, I take it all back. It was a case of them being chock full of stuff that hurts, *us*. Not really them being chock full of *stinging*, stuff. See? We, as, people, or non-people, dead people, if you will, can't take their stuff. We don't get *stung* by them. The *sting* us. They were very cool. Loved them. Oh, sorry, I'm so slow, but I *was* knocked out and held in a small electrified cage for a good bit of time! Yes, of *course* by the Bleathvores! It wasn't Mickey Mouse and *his* band of terrorists! Doesn't make 'em any less cool, Watcher. With my charm and my wits, of course, *and* my way around a deck of cards. Angel was *no* help. We'd be headless if it were left up to *him*. Spell, you say? Need it right away, do you? What? No time for Disneyland? What about Knottsberry Farm? Ya sure, then? Not even a spin in the tea cups? You're such a Watcher. But I promised the boy! Yes, Xander! I've not picked up any *other* boys! Why? Do I have time too? Again, lack of humor. The car? No, sorry, it's fine. Runs like a well-oiled machine. No I did *not* add oil! He's in the shower. He's very dirty and needs to spend some quality time with his hair and his hair gel. Well, I don't think so. That soon? No. It's *late*. Or early, what ever you want to call it. We'll crash here 'till sundown and then head back. Yes, I'll *try*. What if I just leave it on the edge of town, hire a hack, an' you report it stolen when we get there? No? Why not? Well, I'll set it afire! Of *course* that would be *wrong*! It would be insurance fraud. But that'd be practically an American *tradition*! Ha! If I could do that to myself I *would* and thank myself for the good time! You, again, show your lack of humor, Watcher. I've a mind not to give you your present. Bleathvore stuff. Um, yes, *now* be nice to me, once I mention *presents*. Whore yourself to me, Watcher, you know I *love* that. Yes you are, you little be nice to the vamp once he mentions dusty tomes of knowledge, Watcher, you. Um. Yeah. A few sweet words to the vamp with the human and demon skin for pages, books. Whatever. I don't know! I gotta go. I do. I'm gonna find a flat surface to fuck Xander and then go to sleep. What? I said sleep. Are you *sick*? Why would I *say* that? But I do! Leather bound dusty *old* tomes of great importance, I'm sure. Oh, yeah. Nice. Whore *Xander* now. I was, uh, kidding? No? Look, I've the thing, we are safe and sound, so's the car. My apologies 'bout that, can't be helped, the little Honda is a trooper, and we'll be home soon. Love you *bunches*." Spike hung up the phone with a big grin.

"You are so evil, Spike." Cordelia muttered from the doorway.

"Still here, pet? Stayed to seduce me, did you, you deep-eyed wench?"

Cordelia snorted. "No I did-"

"Well, forget it." Spike headed towards the living room. "Had your chance, you did, girlie. Xander! Your trampy ex-girlfriend is trying to put the moves on me!"

"Be strong and don't look her in the eyes. It's the *eyes* that get you!"

Spike found his way back to the living room. Xander was lying on the sofa staring up at the ceiling.

"Bored, pet?" Spike asked, flopping down over him and leaning into Xander's face.

"Yes!" Xander smiled into Spike's face. "Well, okay i *am* counting tiles. *God* yes, I am! There is no TV here. Can we take the bowl and go home now? *No* TV. *No* vamps, to-no offense-, Spike, -to slay. I'm hella bored! And I'm hella *hungry*! I wanna go eat! And I wanna go home! If we leave now we can just make it before you go poof! What say you? Shall we go for it? Live on the edge? I'm okay with the risk factor. I feel nice and safe."

"It'll be daylight soon." Spike told him, settling his hips and hands upon Xander, getting comfortable.

Xander sat up, his back against the arm of the couch. He smiled at Spike as the vamp leaned down and kissed him. "You can get into the trunk of the car, and we can go home." Xander offered, all reason.

Spike smiled down into Xander's face. "I am *not* getting into the trunk, *or* the back seat, or even the *passenger* seat. Just forget about *driving* home, pet. Fucked you, yeah, and while it means I *like* you, it does *not* mean I *like*, like you enough to let you drive us home, it---." CRACK!

And Spike was slumped over him. Knocked out cold. Knocked out dead. Or deader than usual.

"Well, hell. This can't be good. Why'd you *do* that?" Xander asked a grinning Angel, once he'd pushed a knocked out Spike out of the way. A grinning Angel, all shiny clean and spike haired, Angel, that held an. . .oar? "Is that an *oar*? As in, lets go for a boat ride, oar?"

Angel moved it away from his face and smiled at Xander. "Yep. An oar. Come on. He needed a good whack, anyway." Angel pulled Spike off of Xander and dropped him on the floor. "Hurry. He's gonna wake soon. Best get you two in the car before that happens."

"Um, yeah. But for some reason, I don't want you to treat my vampire like that. Be a little more careful with him, would you? But I am *so* gonna blame this all on *you*!" Xander told the dark haired vampire, as he picked up his end of the blond vampire and hefted him out the door.

"Umph. Yeah." Angel grinned at Xander as he shoved him out the door via Spikes dead weight. "Yep. It'll be all funny like once you two are back in Sunnydale, or mostly back in Sunnydale. Quick! Open the back door!"

"No! Put him in the front seat! That way I can see him as he's coming for me."

"Yeah. But I don't think he's gonna hurt you, Xander. Maybe just slap you around a little. You can take that, can't you? Plus, you can blame this all on me."

"Umph, he's heavier than he looks, watch his legs! And I *am* gonna blame this all on you, duh! Already *said* so. Not to mention it's all your doing! Hear the future: It will sound like: '*Angel* hit you! *Angel* put you in the car, and *Angel* grrd at me until I drove away, are you okay, my sweet, Spike? Oh, and Cordy buckled you in.' Sound good? 'Cause that's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That's my plan. You like? Sound good? Do I have all the stuff? I'd hate for him to have to come back for his garbage. He's gonna be pissed, if I didn't get it all." Xander told Angel as he buckled the knocked out vampire into his seat belt. "You'd better have loaded all the stuff. Books and stuff." Xander gave Angel a glare. "I mean it. I want *all* his gar-um, stuff! Wigs, included! I don't want to have to turn the car around. But I will, if I have too!"

"It's all in there. You are good to go, Xander. Have a good trip."

"Kay. Um, how long do you think he's gonna be out?"

Angel grinned. "Not long, I'm afraid. You'd better hurry."

Xander grinned, placed a CD in the player, blasted Breakstuff and hit the freeway.

"Ugh. Turn it down. What'd I drink? How much did I have too drink? Did I sell Dru? What I get for her? Xander? Xander?! What the fuck? Did you *hit* me you little shit?"

Xander reached over and turned the music *up*. Fred Durst continued to bitch about his ex and Xander checked the rear view before changing lanes. "Hey, Spike. Amongst the living once again? Or so. Missed you, I did. Sleep good?"

"Did you hit me, Xander?"

"No!"

Spike rubbed the back of his head and winced once he came across the lump. The lump that *hurt*. "I've been *hit*. I *know* when I've been hit! On the back of my head. And hard, too!." Spike sorta snarled at Xander while he *whined* at him.

"Yeah. With an oar. Boat ride kinda oar. He whacked you a good one." Xander told him, changing lanes, once again. "That damn, Angel."

"Did that little soul-full fuck *hit* me, Xander?"

Xander bit his lip and changed lanes once again. "Are you trying to get me car sick, whelp? Pick a lane and *drive* innit! Or I *swear* I'm gonna vomit in your lap! Did he? *Hit* me?"

"Did he who, what?" Xander made to change lanes once again, but Spike grabbed the wheel and held it still and growled.

And how cute was a can't hurt humans vampire's growl? Cute enough that Xander didn't mention it.

"Let's not kill the driver!" He said instead.

"Um, not much of a threat, when the passenger will walk away all safe and sound. Did that soul-full fuck *hit* me and knock me *out*?"

"What? Who? Angel? *That* soul-full fuck? Yep. He clocked you back side the head and shoved you in the passenger seat. Buckled you in and told me to drive home, or *else*. And what? Really, *lover*?" And Xander was pissed enough at this point to snear the word 'lover'. Why'd Spike think *he* had hit him? "What was I *supposed* to do? He wasn't *hurting* you, so. . .yeah, and *fuck*, he'd already *hit* you, so, yeah, I told him to put you in the car. Be careful with you and let us get home! Shit!"

"Be careful with me?"

"What the fuck am I doing, *now* you big baby?" Xander snarled, changing lanes with a *hard* right turn. Fucker.

Spike snickered. "No. You told him to be careful with me?" Spike squeezed Xander's thigh. "Aren't you the sweet vampire slayer's best friend, fucked by a chipped vampire that'd turn you if he could and kill all your friends and bath in their blood if he could."

Xander checked his rearview mirror, signaled, changed lanes, safely, and smiled at Spike. "Would you, really?"

"Oh, Xan-pet, I'd spend *hours* bathing in Giles' and the slayer's blood if I could."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You'd turn me?"

Spike chuckled and began to undo Xander's jeans. Once his cock was free and deep in Spike's throat the vampire nodded his head in the affirmative motion.

Spike pulled free and gave the mortal a dirty look, eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't let you *drive*, pet. Let's not get it all twisted, but I *would* turn you." He sank back down.

Xander took one hand off the steering wheel of the Honda and patted Spike on his talented head. "I *knew* you started to like me, Spike." Xander grinned up at the high way sign letting him know Sunnydale was close. "But I wasn't going all *crazy* with it."

"Mum, Spike? Know what's on the off ramp, home?"

Negative motion from Spike.

"Winches!!!!!!!!!" < = all night donut shop in california. >

*****
Part 19:

Spike removed Xander from his mouth, licked his lips, placed Xander back inside his jeans and zipped him up. "I'm full."

"Good for you." Xander grinned, exiting the highway. "But I want donuts."

"Have you no romance in your soul, Xander?"

"Um. . ."

"You should be telling me what good head I give, whelp!"

"Ah. I see. Okay. Cause I'm fresh out of bloody sheets, right? I know you like those."

"I do. But that's ambiance. Bloody sheets have their place, but *now* is the time for compliments." Spike squeezed Xander's thigh. "*Now* is the time for you to say stuff like: Oh, GODJESUSCHRISTABOVE! *Never* have I had such a blowjob! Are you a *professional*? And you should smile at me and bat your girlie eyelashes at me and then tell me you feel like you should *pay* me." Spike gave Xander a grave and serious look.

"'God-jesus-christ-above'? Really? You think I should *say* stuff like that? Cause, I'm not gonna. And I do *not* have girlie eyelashes."

"Well, if not that, then something comparable. What ever the kids say in the throes of passion these days. And women would *kill* to have your eyelashes. I've know a few who *have* killed for the likes of them."

"That would be the stuff like, 'fuck', 'harder', 'deeper', and, um, 'more'! And I'm *sure* I say that to you."

"Really? That's *all* they say?" Spike sniffed. "Heathens."

Xander pulled into the all night donut shop's parking lot. "If they *really* like you, and if they are *really* having a good time they ask you if you want sprinkles."

"Do they? Lack's poetry, if you ask me. Calling the lord's name in vain? *That* show's the lust. Or at least, it *did*."

"Um, yes, back in the day, I'm sure it did, but for now we have what we have. Spike?"

"What is it, then, heathen-Xander?"

"You want sprinkles?"

"Oh, *Xan-der*!" And Spike fluttered *his* eyelashes. "*Really*?"

Xander unbuckled his seatbealt and opened the door. "Yep. Really. Sprinkles for you, cause you give the best head I've *ever* had while driving home from a going to get a slayer saving thing from the vampire ex-boyfriend of said slayer, who just happens to be the only girl I've ever really wanted and was in love with but couldn't have and you *seduced* me while on said trip and I'm in total *denial* about said seduction and I guess it all makes me kinda gay now and that's *another* thing I don't really want to think about but I *have* learned to love my inner-gunslinger and for *that* I'm grateful. Oh. And for my inner gunslinger's gun. Well, *guns*. Cause I kinda stole a gun or five of Angel's. I thank you for that. So? Want sprinkles?"

"I don't know." Spike grabbed his head and squinted at Xander. "That speech has given me a headache and made me all confused. Sentence? Paragraph? Thought? Or thesis?" Again, Spike made with the eyelashes. "But do you *love* me?" Spike simpered.

"I'm offering sprinkles, Spike. Take 'em or leave 'em."

"Sprinkle me, baby."

Xander shut the door and walked towards the shop door. Spike leaned across the seat and stuck his head out the driver's side window. "But, Xan-der!" Spike yelled over the roar of the five Harleys pulling into the parking lot.

Xander opened the door and held it open as he turned back to look at Spike. "What?"

"So? Was it the best head *ever*?"

*********************************************************

"I don't see what you're so *mad* about. They didn't hurt you. Didn't even rough you up."

"Humph." Xander checked his mirrors and made his turn.

"You bullshitted your way out of any trouble just fine, didn't you?"

"Humph." Xander speed up a little. Not too much. Hit his brights at a dark corner. All clear. He made his turn.

"It's not like you were once the Big Bad and found yer'self *incapacitated* with the very *thought* of ripping their throats out, is it, then? *That* be a hard thing to swallow, wouldn't, then? *That* be something to be in a *pissy* mood about, then, wouldn't?"

"Humph." Xander reached over and into the box of donuts on Spike's lap and pulled out a chocolate cake with sprinkles. He hit a button on his door and Spike's window slid down. He tossed the donut out and then closed the window.

"There were only *five* of them. You kill *vampires*. You hang out with the *slayer*. You've *shagged* a very dangerous, blood thirsty, wanna kill all your friends, vampire! That'd be *me*, pet." Spike sniffed. "You have a *gun*. Or *Guns*, apparently, you little klepto."

"Humph." Xander reached for a cream filled glazed and brought it to his mouth. He made a sharp turn and bit into the deep fried cream filled treat. "Not a *klepto*. I *meant* to steal them." He shot Spike a dirty look.

"They probably weren't even *real* bikers. Just those corporate nancy-boys, like to dress up like and play at being bikers. They did have nice leathers though, didn't they? That one giant bloke, had on a nice set of chaps, didn't he? That was good leather, it was."

"Humph."

"So, sure. Maybe I *shouldn't* have tipped over the bikes. Sometimes I forget about the chip and just start to recall my days of yore! Days of fun! Days of me being *SPIKE* and being able to *have* fun like that! Sue me!"

"Humph."

"That whole me being your retarded brother, while really galling, was pure genius, on your part. See? Who needs super slayer stuff when you can *bullshit* like that? Strength is strength and while it's a good thing to have it ain't *bullshitting*! Now *that's* good stuff. The slayer? She'd *still* be fighting!"

"Humph."

"You *liked* it. You know you did. When the giant helped to buckle me in you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. I know you did. I *know* you Xander. You think you're all deep and secretive, but I *know* you. I *read* you, Xan. You were having fun."

"Humph."

"Fine!" Spike undid his seatbelt and reached into the back seat. "Ha! Got it."

"Put your seatbelt back on! They *ticket* for that, you know!"

Spike sat back in his seat and tossed Xander a grin as he rolled down his window. He placed his right arm out the window. "I'm gonna drop the bowl, Xander."

"What? Bring that back in here *right* this minute, Spike! Right this minute! Do you want me to stop the car? I will. I'll stop."

"Stop. I don't care. Admit it."

"Admit what? You're a fucking nut? Yes! I admit it! You're the nuttiest vampire *ever*!"

"Admit you had fun with the bikers."

"I did *not* have fun with the fucking bikers! You could have gotten us *killed*! Beaten to death by really big guys in leather! *Not* the way I want to go!"

"My fingers are getting numb, Xander. I might drop the bowl. I need truth. Did you have fun?"

"God damn it, Spike! Okay! Maybe!"

"Can't feel my little finger. Gonna drop the bowl."

"Fine! Yes! It was *fun*! It was fucking *fun*! When that big leather dressed behemoth helped me buckle you in and took such *care* with you I wanted to *crack up*! Okay? Yes! That was fun! This is *not*. Bring the bowl back in."

"Okay." *crash*. "Oops."

Xander slammed on the breaks, fishtailing and stalling the car.

"Now *that's* a seatbelt! I mean, really! I didn't even *move*. I might have to look into getting one of these little Hondas, I just might. Don't see what the Watcher is so against."

"You *dropped* the bowl?" Xander asked through gritted teeth.

Spike was pulling at his now slack seatbelt. "What? No. That was just a bowl. Ceramic, circa 1970's. Had a pretty pattern I liked, though. Thought it'd make a nice cereal bowl. Shame I dropped it. Didn't think I'd hold the real thing out the bloody *window*, did you, pet? Think I'm daft? Have Slutty, her great big commando boy toy *and* Rupert gunning for me? What? You think you're shagging a moron?"

Xander took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No. I think *you're* shagging a moron." He restarted the car and, after beating his head against the steering wheel three times, began driving again.

"Okay. Hey!" Spike grinned at Xander. "Only *I* can talk about the bloke I'm shagging. *You* be nice. Or else."

"Yeah. I'll be nice to me."

"Xander?"

"What?"

"Are we there yet?"

Xander turned up the music. How nice. Breakstuff was playing again and wasn't it just one of those days? "We're almost there, Spike." Xander murmured.

"Xander!" Spike yelled over the music a few minutes later, waving his hand in front of Xander's face.

"What, Spike?" Xander asked, glaring at Spike.

"Are we there, yet?"

*****
Part 20:

"Run over the sign! Run it over!" Spike shouted, bouncing in his seat. "*Smash* it!"

"No." Xander calmly drove past the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign, hands at ten and twelve o'clock.

"You little shit! You *wanker*! This isn't yer bloody driver's test ya know! You're *driving* the car! You have responsibilities!"

"Like making sure I have gas and signaling before a turn?"

"Like runnin' over that bleedin' sign! As the *driver*, you can do stuff, Xander. *Fun* stuff! You *bloody* *little* *shit*!" Spike crossed his arms across his chest. "That's one o' my *things* ya know! It's a *tradition*." Spike turned to look at the back of the still standing welcome sign. He felt a pang. Right where his heart used to beat. He rubbed his chest and turned to sit forward again. He looked at Xander. "Do you care *nothing* for me Xander? I'm at a bad place in my unlife, Xander. You *know* this. Little things, Xander. That's all I have, pet. Just the *little* things. Like the sign." He paused, looking at Xander. A seemingly uncaring Xander. "I don't mean a bloody damn thing to you, do I?" He sniffed.

"Didn't we do this already?"

"But the *sign*!"

"Yeah. The sign. I *work*, Spike. I pay taxes. It's *my* money that goes to *fix* that fucking sign!"

"Well, hell. Put this baby in reverse, run it over, and *I'll* pay you back, you big money grubbin' *baby*!"

"Um. . . that's a thought from one who *has* no money. But *no*. Not gonna do it." Xander flashed a grin at Spike. "Sorry. Nope."

"You're such a big *man*, all driving the car and stuff aren't you Xanderpet? I'm gonna *fuck* you into a whimpering *mass*, Xander."

"Promises, promises . . ." Xander sang as he drove.

"Oh *yes* I am-Ooo. . . Stop here! Pull in!"

"What? *Here*?" Xander glanced at the glaring neon sign. "No way! What are you *crazy*? This place is *evil*. *Way* evil!" Xander put his foot to the gas and speed past.

"What? You wouldn't run over the Welcome to Sunnydale sign for me, and now you are attempting to keep me out of *WalMart*? Are you some demon spawn from hell no one has seen fit to warn me about? Or you've been possessed? Yes?" Spike leaned close to Xander and sniffed. Xander giggled. "Something has possessed you? Xander? Can you hear me Xander?"

"Ha, ha, very funny Spike."

Spike moved back, sinking into his seat. "I am *not* playing, luv. Or what*ever* you may be." Spike leaned in again, sniffing and licking at Xander's neck. "Smells like Xander. Tastes like Xander. Xander? Take me to WalMart this instance!"

"No! WalMart is *evil*." Xander continued to drive away from WalMart without a second glance.

"*Really*? Possessed? Innocent ole WalMart? How's it possessed, then, pretty one?"

"The place is just evil, okay? *Evil*!"

""How can you be so sure? Just what kind of evil? I thought I knew *most* evil. . ."

"*WalMart* possesses the type of EVIL, my uninformed-dead-*non*-shopping-friend, that *sucks* you in and *keeps* you in! Oh! You *think* you only need some laundry detergent. Ha! But it turns out you need fabric softener too! And a *ball* to go with it! Ha! That's not the end of it! Oh, no. You need some underwear? Turns out you need three new C.D's *and* a few new *videos* as well!" Xander shook his head. "The evil money-sucking *never* stops! Once you're in? You don't get *out*! Not for under a hundred bucks at least, anyway, my friend. It's evil. It's *criminal*." Xander shook his head again. "They outta outlaw that place."

"Really? All that? I just want a gift box for the slayers' wigs."

"A gift box for the slayers wigs?" Xander snickered, amused.

"Yes. Just that." Spike smiled at Xander, all cheekbones and teeth. "And I bet you a blowjob I can come out of there with only a gift box. Just the one."

Xander gave a sharp, illegal turn and headed to the WalMart parking lot. "You need *way* more than just a gift box, Spike." Xander smirked, parking.

Spike unfastened his seatbelt and shot a superior look at Xander. "No I don't." Spike opened the door and paused on the way out. "I do, however, require, *cash*." He smiled at Xander and held out his hand. "Gimmie some money, baby."

Xander snickered and reached into his front pants pocket, pulling out a thick wad of cash.

Spike cocked an eyebrow. "Lot o' scratch ya got there, pet."

"Yeah. Angel had a stash under all his hairbrushes. I, uh, *liberated* some o' these poor ignored hundreds." Xander gave a sweet look. "Cash has feelings *too*! Shame to just leave money lying around like that. All uncared for. . ."

"Bloody klepto."

Xander smiled at Spike. "*Thief* damn you! I was fully *aware* of my *stealing* this money!" Xander smiled and pulled off five bills. "Here." He handed the money to Spike.

Spike snatched the money and pocketed it. "Don't you have something smaller? I just want a gift box." Spike asked, money deeply pocketed.

Xander grinned. "Nope. That's part of the evilness of WalMart. If you *have* the money, you will *spend* the money. My dare to you is that you walk into WalMart, buy the gift-box, nothing else, and come out, with only a gift box in hand."

"That's it? Go into the store, buy what I want and come out? And I get a blowjob? That easy? That sweet?"

"Yep. That easy. That sweet. Go."

"Are you gonna follow me?"

"Nope." Xander parked the car and turned up the music. "I'll just want to see the receipt."

"That's it?"

"Yep. That's it. Go forth and be one with the evil that is WalMart."

"Fine." Spike left the car and headed inside.

Xander waited ten minuets and then headed towards the exit, hiding behind a Pepsi machine. He had a Pepsi as he waited for Spike. It wasn't long before he heard an accented voice mumbling about the evils of WalMart. He popped out and confronted Spike. Spike of many bags.

"So!" He yelled. "What's in the bag?" He smirked. "Or should I say 'bagS'?"

Spike jumped. "You said you wouldn't follow me!"

Xander grinned. "I lied. What's in the bags? Seems like a lot for just a *giftbox*."

Spike grinned. Caught. And loving it. "I bought all kinds of stuff! You were right! I needed stuff I didn't know I needed. Like the new "Family Values Tour CD! Didn't even know they *had* a new one! Bought the old one too! Hehe. And I bought some new ice trays. . . yours are getting so's you can't even get ice outta them! And, I got-

"Seem's you lost the bet, eh?" Xander grinned.

"Yep. You owe me a blowjob. I *couldn't* just get the one thing."

Xander couldn't help but laugh. "That *wasn't* the bet! *You* owe *me* a blowjob."

"Are you *daft*? I wouldn't agree to such a bet! That *wasn't* the bet, pet. Now! My blow job, now or later? I'll leave that up to you."

"You said-"

"*I* said," Spike began, cutting him off. "I'll bet you a blow job I can get just the one thing. And I *couldn't*. You were right. So I get a blow job!"

"And if you *could* have gotten one thing?"

"Well, then I'd have been *right*, and you would get to *blow* me. Are you *slow* Xander? I used to think so, but then I changed me mind, but now I'm wondering again." Spike shook his head and began walking to the car, leaving Xander to muddle through the bet semantics.

"Spike!" Xander shouted.

"Yeah, pet?" Spike asked, still walking.

"I don't like you!"

"Yeah, but a deal's a deal an' a wager's a wager." Spike turned, walking backwards as he smiled at Xander. "An' I'll be wantin' me blowjob, pretty pet." He gave a grin and turned back around, making his way to the car and into the driver's seat.

"What makes you think I'm going to give you the keys?" Xander asked him, once he too, reached the car.

"Time." Spike smiled at him.

Xander glanced at his watch. "Time? Seems to me, time is more on *my* side. *I* don't fear the sun. I got plenty of time."

"Do'ya think so? *I* don't fear the death o' the slayer. Who's the one with the time, then, pet? You wanna wait till sun up? Wait till I have to crawl, all smokin' and whimpering' into the boot?"

Xander pulled the keys out of his pocket and looked at them. "We probably have lots of time left."

"Probably. All most certainly, really."

Xander walked to the passenger door, grumbling beneath his breath all the while, and climbed in, slamming the door shut. He fastened his seat belt and glared at Spike. "Do you *see* why no one likes you, Spike?" He asked the vampire while handing over the keys.

Spike took the keys and leaned over to buss Xander on the lips. He started the car and pealed out of the parking lot. "Yep! Cause I'm the Big Bad and everyone is jealous!" He smiled at Xander while passing a car in a no passing lane. "Aren't you glad we're fucking, pet?"

"Oh, yes. The joy."

"Oh, shit! Wrong way!" Spike threw out his arm, holding Xander in place. "Hold on, pet." With that, Spike cut a sharp U-turn and speed down the road.

"What? What wrong way? We weren't going the wrong way!"

Spike leaned over the steering wheel and floored the gas pedal. He turned to leer at Xander, licking his lips. "You know, pet. You know."

"Yeah." Xander sighed.

Spike laughed maniacally and Xander braced him self as Giles' trooper Honda crashed into the Welcome to Sunnydale sign, smashing it into smithereens. Spike pulled on the brake and turned the wheel, spinning the car around so it was once again facing the way home.

"Now. Wasn't that *fun* pet? That was fun! You can't tell me that wasn't fun!"

"Can we go home now, Spike?"

Spike revved the engine. "Yep. Let's go save us a slayer, with all our junk." Spike turned up the radio, and speed toward Giles's place. "Oh, and get me a blowjob! Let us not forget my blowjob."

"Yes. Your blowjob. Oh. The joy."

*****
Part 21:

"What? Why are you pulling over? We're almost home!" Xander demanded.

"My blow job." Spike told him, pulling over to the side of the road and parking.

"I am *not* blowing you on the side of the road, Spike."

"Watcher's drive way work better for you, pet?" Spike checked the rearview mirror before turning off the car. He left the radio on and moved the steering wheel up.

"I'm not blowing you at all! You cheated!"

"I did not cheat!" Spike unbuttoned his jeans.

"Yes you did!"

"Oi! I did not. Fine!" Spike unzipped his jeans with a grin before reaching over to press the release button on Xander's seatbelt. "I cheated. I cheat all the bloody time, Xander. I lie, I steal, I tell bright eyed, chubby-cheeked little urchins that the Santa they just sat on is really some ole perv that will be tossin' off thinking about them later on that night. I kick puppies and I drown kittens." Spike wiggled in his seat, pulling his jeans down a bit. "I spend countless hours dreamin' of killin' people you care about." He pulled his hardening cock out and gave it a fond squeeze. "Now be a good lad, and suck my dick, humm?"

Xander gave into his laughter and didn't stop until Spike reached out and grabbed Xander by the back of his neck and pulled him over and down. Xander's open mouth settled nicely over Spike's cock.

"Mummff."

Spike arched up, pushing his cock deeper into Xander's mouth. "Watch the teeth, pet."

Xander bit him.

Spike snickered, pulling lightly at Xander's hair. "Pet! That's lovely. You know what I like. Speed it up a touch, though, would ya, pet? Traffic an' all." Spike closed his eyes, leaning his head back as Xander's mouth moved over him, urgent and hot. His eyes opened wide when Xander licked at his tightly drawn sac. "Not *too* fast, then, eh?"

*************************************************

Spike was whistling as he pulled the car into Giles' driveway. "Home, pet! An' all in one piece too. Not a bad time we had, huh?"

"So says the vampire that got head on the side of the road. Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you *really* kick puppies?"

"Course not! I *love* puppies!"

"Drown kittens?"

Spike gave the horn two sharp blasts. "Only the ones that scratch me." He grinned at Xander before popping the trunk. "Come on, Xander. Let's go save the slayer." He opened the door and climbed out as Giles' door opened, spilling forth the gang.

"Finally. I was beginning to worry." Giles said, looking at his car. Not at Spike or Xander. "It seems fine, doesn't it? Not a scratch on it." Just a touch of disappointment colored his comment.

"Of course it's fine! I took good care-." Spike paused mid-step and mid-sentence, on his way to the trunk. "What? Not a *scratch*?" Spike turned and made his way to the front of the car. "Well." He gave the front of the car a good look. Not a scratch, not a chip. Not even a wood chip from the Welcome sign. Spike grinned, slapping Giles on his shoulder. "This is a fine motor, Watcher. Give her a chance!"

"Um."

"So you have it?" Buffy asked, Riley trailing behind her.

"Oh! Yes. It's safe, then?" Giles asked.

Spike snickered. "Safe as yer car, Watcher." He cocked his head towards the trunk of the car. "It's in the boot." He walked back to the open trunk that Xander was going through.

"Watch yerself, pet! Don't touch the bleeding bowl!"

"What *is* all that stuff?" Riley asked.

"Presents! For every one but *you*, boy." He looked Riley up and down, before stating, "I don't like you."

"And I'm all broken up about that, Hostile 17."

"Name's Spike, boy."

"Is it?"

"Yes it *is* you-"

"Where's Willow?" Xander asked, moving between Riley and Spike.

"Here I am!" Willow rushed to give Xander a hug. "You're okay?"

Xander hugged her back, smiling at Tara over her shoulder. "I'm fine. Why? Were you worried about me?"

Willow nodded her head in the affirmative motion and said: "Of course I wasn't." She grinned, linking her arm with Tara's. "I knew you could do it." She grinned. "What, *exactly*, did you do?"

Xander puffed up a bit. "I-"

"He threatened people. He shot people. He stole stuff. He rescued me an' the poof. He-"

"He's lying. He's drunk. Don't listen to him." Xander began. "Hey! We have, along with our exclusive line of slayer saving magic bowls, *presents* for witches!"

"Presents? That's so nice!" Tara said; ignoring the silence the other's had created. She looked around at the others. "What?"

"You *shot* people, Xander?" Riley asked.

Xander shrugged. "No. I shot vampires."

Riley looked at Spike. "Cool."

Spike snickered. "Didn't shoot *me*, Doughboy."

Riley took a step forward. "Well, maybe he should-"

"Maybe we should bring in the item we need and perform the ritual, yes?" Giles cut in, looking at Spike. "Oh, and. . .the, uh, *other* things you mentioned? You do have those, don't you?"

"Yes, Watcher. I've got *your* presents, too."

Giles smiled. "Well. Let's go in, shall we?"

Spike grabbed the bowl and ordered the others to bring in the rest of his stuff. "An' be careful with it, mind you!"

***********************************

Spike placed his burden carelessly on the kitchen counter and headed to the refrigerator. "Got blood, Watcher?" He asked, opening the door and looking inside. "Yes! I'll kill you *quick* once I get the chance, Rupert, old boy." He snatched a pack of blood out and tossed it into the microwave. "My thanks for keeping a well stocked fridge."

Riley came in and dropped a bag. "Hey! Careful with that, ya dolt! That's got presents for the witches!"

Willow giggled. "Did you *really* get presents for us, Spike?"

Spike took his heated bag of blood out and dumped it into one of Giles' favorite coffee mugs and took a sip, before giving Willow a grin. "I did. Books of Spells. *Good* ones." He rifled through the bag and pulled out the leather bound books, handing them to Willow and Tara. "Play nice, ladies. Just keep me out o' them."

"I'd like to take a look at those, before you, um, *do* anything with them." Giles intoned.

"Of course." Willow murmured, flipping through the pages, Giles forgotten before the words left her mouth.

"And more for my favorite Watcher." Spike pulled out more books, pilling them on the kitchen table. "Am I a sweet chipped-vampire, or am I?"

"Spike, you are-." Giles stopped, picking up a book his eyes going wide with wonder. He ran his hand reverently over the cover. "Yes. Spike. This is. . .this is wonderf-."

"Hey!" Buffy demanded, coming into the kitchen with the rest of the bags. "What *is* all this crap?"

"Let me help you with that, Buffster." Xander said, feeling for and finding the bag of wigs. "Just put that stuff down. It's nothing. Well, it's stuff for you're mom, and more for Giles, Willow and Tara. Nothing you need to worry about." He dropped the wig-bag behind him and kicked it into a corner. "I'm just going to go in and. . .um. . . I'm going to go with Willow and Tara."

"Nothing?" Spike yelled at Xander's back. "It's presents! Present's for everyone!"

Buffy gave Spike a skeptical look. "You got me a present, Spike?"

"I got the bloody damn thing that'll save your worthless hide! That not *enough* for you, bint?"

Buffy shrugged, holding back a grin. "I suppose that's as good a present as presents go." She paused. "If that's what you're looking for." She cocked an eyebrow. "Giles?"

Giles looked up from his book. "Yes? What?"

"What's a 'bint'?"

Giles gave her a blank stare. "Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Bring the bowl into the other room, won't you?"

"Certainly." He picked up the Je'dellian bowl and carried it into the other room, smirking at Buffy and Riley on the way.

"Let's get this *done* with, shall we?" Giles muttered, still flipping through the pages of the book Spike had given him.

"Hey!"

Giles glanced up at Buffy's shout. He smiled. "So we may ensure the safety and longevity of our slayer."

Buffy grinned, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding her head. "Better."

"Right then. Places, everyone. Circle." He smiled. "I believe we all, ah, know the drill. Spike, place the bowl in the center, if you will."

"If I must."

"Just do it, Spike." Everyone in unison.

Spike placed the Je'dellian bowl into the center of the prepared circle and the others took their places.

Giles performed the brief ceremony.

There was complete anti-climax.

"That's it then? No thunder? No lightening? No Buffy bursting into flames for even a bleeding second? No orgasm?" Spike spoke up.

Riley stood up, grinning. "All good 'no' things for me!" He pulled Buffy up and hugged her. "I'm thirsty, though. Need a Pepsi. Guys? I got a twelve pack in Giles' fridge. Join me?" He looked around at the others.

"Job well, done." Giles said. "Um, Pepsi for everyone."

Riley smiled, heading for the kitchen. "Be right back."

"So that's it? Really?" Buffy asked. "I'm all safe and sound?" She rolled her eyes at Giles. "As safe as I'll ever be?"

"Yes. Not complicated, but necessary." He smiled. "We are finished. With *this* battle."

"Good! We can go home!" Willow said, picking up her spell books.

"You can't go home with those, Willow."

"And just why not? Spike gave them to *me*!" She smiled at Spike. "Didn't you?"

"I did, pet." Spike stood and grabbed Xander by the arm, pulling him up. "And speaking of going, Xander and I have to be."

"Spike!" Giles said, quickly. "You can stay here."

"No!" Xander said.

"Nope." Spike told the watcher, leading Xander towards the door. "Gotta stay with my little Xander."

"No, but-."

"Hey, what's this?" Riley asked, coming into the room with a tray of Pepsi and the bag of wigs.

Xander stopped. "That's just garbage, Ri. Toss it."

"It's *not*. That's *Buffy's* present!"

"No. It's not."

Riley handed the bag to Buffy. She shook it. She squeezed it. She handed it back to Riley. "Open it, honey."

"No!" Xander began. "Just toss it out! It's-"

"Let's go, luv." Spike opened the door and pulled Xander out. "I'll just be taking Xander home and keeping him."

Riley looked at the door as it closed. He handed the bag back to Buffy. He smiled at her. "*You're* the slayer. *You* open it."

*************************

"Spike, you could have just let sleeping wigs-" Xander began.

"Ewee!!!!!" Buffy yelled, loud enough for Spike and Xander to hear as they walked away from Giles place.

"Tell you what, pet. I enjoyed the slayer's 'eww' so much, I'll give *you* a blow job. How's that?"

Xander tossed his arm across Spike's shoulders. "That's good. I can deal with that."

*****************

"What *are* those?" Buffy demanded.

"Wigs?" Tara replied her tone meek. She perked up a bit and she smiled at the slayer. "Blonde ones. At least he got your color right."

~end~