*****

Spike scowled deeply and fidgeted a bit in his chair at the kitchen table. Unlife could be bloody unfair at times, and right now was one of those times. If it weren't for the thrice damned chip stuck inside his bloomin' skull, he'd go vent his frustration along with some mortal's innards. Spike glared at the sheet of paper in his hand once more as if hoping that burning death rays would shoot out of his eyes and turn the offensive thing into a small pile of ash. At least *then* he'd have an excuse. 'Sorry pet, but the silly thing burst into flames right in me hands. Weren't nothin' *I* could do to prevent it. Let's shag. That'll cheer you right up, luv.'

The blonde vampire grinned momentarily at the lovely daydreams of his nummy Xander-pillow sprawled out in a sweaty heap across their bed and begging him to just *please* do it harder and faster and make him *scream*. Then he remembered what he was *supposed* to be doing instead of bumping uglies with his luscious Xander-toy.

This whole mess was the landlord's fault. The smelly cigar smoking man had just made Spike's 'the-chip-is-gone-and-now-you-are-dead' list of victims-to-be. After all... he couldn't *really* blame his pet's Uncle Rory. The man was just trying to help and he *was* a corrupting influence in his own limited mortal way, so... Spike could find it in his unbeating heart to forgive him. This time.

Once their landlord had found out about Xander's... *ahem*... retirement from the Circle K, he'd hounded the boy about paying the rent and the utilities. He'd managed to make a right bloody nuisance of himself and had annoyed Spike severely. Never a healthy thing to do, that. Xander's favorite uncle, that Rory bloke, had risen to the challenge and had simultaneously answered the question of *how* a legally unemployed man could always afford such pretty and expensive motors. Rory had found Spike's Xander-pillow a new job... at the local chop-shop.

Now, never let it be said that William the Bloody had *anything* against Grand Theft Auto, after all, that's how he got his beloved DeSoto, but still... this new job had *long* and *unusual* hours. Xander had quickly become a favorite of the boys who ran the place for a multitude of reasons. He was blood-family to some of the more notorious thieves and drug dealers in Sunnydale for one. He wasn't afraid to work at night for another. And he had a vicious mean-streak in him that Spike spent *lots* of time and effort to cultivate. What's more, the boy had actually found a skill he was *good* at.

Stock shelves? Not Spike's lover.

Work a cash register? Not William the Bloody's pet mortal.

Hot wire cars and then strip them down for parts?

Just point the lucky motor out to the boy and you'd never see it again.

Spike had gone out on a run or two with his Xander-pillow just for thrills and kicks and he had found himself delightfully impressed with the ease with which his dark haired sex-toy had jimmied the lock and hot-wired the older vehicle. As a professional pick-pocket and thief from since *before* he'd been turned, Spike knew raw talent when he saw it. But he'd held his tongue until later that same evening when Xander had been sent to retrieve a newer model. The blonde vampire has stood in mild shock and absolute happiness as he watched his lover quickly and almost noiselessly disable the electronic car alarm before stealing the luxury sedan. The boy had been a joy to watch and Spike had found himself feeling a deep sense of pride.

However, Xander's new bosses apparently thought that Spike's Xander- pet needed to learn more and more about the business, and so a quick part time job to make the rent was turning into a full time career. Which was fine, except that it meant a lot less time that Xander devoted to Spike and their relationship. And it had finally boiled down to a choice of what to do with Xander's free time. Spend it pleasing Spike, which was *Spike's* first choice, or spend it doing menial chores that mortal living people *had* to do to *stay* mortal living people. Spike felt his pleasure was the only *real* choice, and his nummy-treat agreed.

*That's* when the boy had asked him, William the Bloody, the *Big- Bad* himself, the help with the stupid menial and horribly *boring* *chores*!

And like a stupid git, he'd grinned and nodded his head in agreement. He should have had the bloomin' smarts to *ask* what the hell Xander had wanted him to do *first*. Spike had figured it would be something easy and semi-fun. Something like 'Oh please my big strong handsome vamp-lover. Could you *please* (falls to knees and nuzzles Spike's crotch) *please* sharpen every knife dagger and sharp metal object in the apartment? You do it *so* well you gorgeous hunk of undead flesh you' was what Spike had *thought* Xander would ask him to do...

What he *got* was a 'Thanks man, you're killer. Here (gets piece of paper shoved into hand) is the list of stuff I need you to get at the Supermarket. I'll be home... um, late'. And then with a flash of a grin underneath slightly apologetic dark eyes, his Xander-pillow had dashed out of the apartment and into the early dusk.

Spike glared back down at the offensive shopping list once again and wondered if this was some form of karmic retribution for the time he'd gotten bored and drew all over his snuggle-Xander in permanent Magic-Marker while the boy was fast asleep after a hard night's work of ripping off innocent citizen's cars.

With a snarl and an exaggerated rolling of his bright blue eyes, Spike grabbed up the shopping list written out in Xander's wobbly handwriting and grabbed his duster. He had to go be rude and nasty to a bunch of unsuspecting people at the local Food-Barn.

****

With an angry squeal of abused brakes, Spike pulled his DeSoto into the overcrowded parking lot at the Food-Barn Supermarket, narrowly missing a blue-haired old woman and the bent man shuffling along at her side. The both let out horrified shrieks and scurried away at an agonizingly slow pace as he climbed out of his car, indignant anger *rolling* off of him in waves. He allowed his eyes to go yellow and he hissed at them. They both went pale and he was assaulted by a strong acrid smell that made him absurdly grateful that Depends (TM) undergarments really *did* work as advertised.

Feeling somewhat mollified at having startled the two mortals that badly, Spike clutched at his crumpled list and stomped off in the direction of the giant glass automatic doors. Getting closer, Spike glanced up and snorted in disgust. The stupid doors had a lovely sign on it that proclaimed "Open. Come on in and shop." so he could walk in without a verbal invite, however, they *also* worked on one of those bloody sensors. Sensors, mind you, that didn't detect the presence of the undead anymore than mirrors did. So... the idiot proof doors wouldn't even open for him. He had to stand there like a flamin' pounce and *wait* for some silly bint to walk through them and then dash in behind her.

Grumbling about the unfairness of the universe and God's warped sense of bloody humor, Spike leaned up against the brick wall to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Finally, in a burst of impatience and a growing sense of bloodthirsty annoyance, he reached into his duster's pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. He pulled a fag out of the pack and shoved it into his mouth. He flipped open his lighter and lit the smoke. Spike took in one deep drag and closed his eyes briefly in relief.

That's when he caught the faint scent of vanilla wafting past him and his blue eyes snapped open. He watched silently as a young woman stepped up to the doors and they slid open for her. Mindlessly reveling in the sensation of nicotine flooding his undead lungs, he almost forgot *why* he was standing around like a bloody idiot. With a startled cry, he tossed down his just lit smoke and dashed in after her. As fast as he was, he wasn't quite fast enough. Not sensing anything there, the doors had begun to swing closed. They missed hitting Spike, but they *did* catch the back of his long leather jacket, pinching it's tails in between the rubber-coated edges.

Turning with an exasperated groan, he yanked the duster free only to turn back and see the young woman staring at him in amused disbelief. Spike silently thanked Hell that it was physically impossible for him to blush.

"It bloody attacked me, didn't it? I should sue someone for that, I should."

Spike watched as the woman shook her head and walked away muffling aborted chuckles. He scowled. He *hated* to be laughed at... well, unless he was *trying* to be funny. And then, it was usually only his Xander-toy who appreciated his dark and morbid sense of humor. The bloody Slayer was wound just a bit too tightly to find any mirth in *his* stories.

Dismissing the bint, Spike walked through the atrium and over to his first decision of this stupid chore. Should he get a cart, a little basket or just carry everything in his arms to the check-out register? Reaching back into his pocket, he pulled out the list that his lover had given to him and read over it.

Soda.
Coffee & Filters.
Yummies & Goodies.
Pasta & Stuff.

Spike blinked in confusion, then dismissed it for now. He'd figure out what the hell 'stuff' meant later.

Lubricant.

Spike smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

Toilet Paper.
Bug Spray.
Mac-Cheese.
Shampoo & Soap.
Bread.
Peanut-Butter.
Spike's Smokes.

Spike nodded in agreement. Bloody right he needed smokes. Not like he was welcome at the bloody Circle K anymore.

Fabric Softener.

Spike grinned at the thought of his attempt at doing the wash, but he knew better than to remind Xander about that day. Even weeks later it was enough to send his love-pillow into a tizzy and a right bloody pouting session.

Well, the list was long enough that he knew he couldn't carry it all in his arms, so he opted for the full blown cart. He didn't know if he needed *that* much space to carry everything, but he wanted to bang into the other shopper's stuff and a little basket wouldn't be able to do that, so...

*****
Part 2:

With a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face, Spike grabbed one of the carts and yanked. With a great cacophony of protesting metal, the entire line of buggered shopping carts jolted towards him. His grin melted and was replaced by a confused frown. He yanked again. The carts all jerked towards him again. He growled low in his throat and glared at the infernal things. Just to see if it would work, Spike jiggled the end cart lightly and then gave it a gentle tug. It didn't separate from it's mates. In fact, it stayed stubbornly stuck rammed up inside the cart in front of it.

Not having a great deal of patience on even the best of days, the blonde vampire was moments away from just ripping all of the bloody things to bits of shiny scrape metal when an older woman with grey streaks in her once dark hair chuckled at his side. He turned to glare at her, but she just pointed to a small little box-like thing with a chain attacked to it on the handle.

"You have to put a quarter in it sweets. Won't let you take it unless you pay. When you're done shopping, just chain it up back up and it'll spit your money back out."

The woman shrugged and offered up a tired grin.

"Stupid, I know, but what can you do? The moneygrabber's that own the store are paranoid that everyone is out to steal their precious shopping carts. Like these things are at the top of every thief's list of stuff to take. Right?"

Spike looked down at the older woman and grinned wickedly. She was a nice lady with a healthy dose of practicality and he decided that he liked her. Something about her reminded him of his Xander-toy. Making a big show out of looking around to see if they were alone, he leaned over and whispered in a conspiratorial voice.

"You're bloody right. It *is* a bit paranoid of them, innit?... and it was a mean trick to play on an unsuspecting boy such as myself. I'll show you what I plan to do about it though, ducks."

And with that, he reached out and easily broke the little box and chain that imprisoned his chopping cart. With a wide grin and a dramatic flourish, he pulled his cart free of the group.

"Want me to free you one of these enslaved little buggies then luv?"

She just blinked up at him briefly and then smirked. He returned her smirk and reached for the next cart in line. With a quick twist of his wrist, that one also sported a brand-new broken box.

"Right then. Here you go ducks. Happy shopping... or some such rot."

With a delightfully wicked chuckle, the woman patted him on the arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"You're a good boy. You've got spunk and I like that in a body."

And with that, she made her way into the store with the shopping cart that Spike had got for her quarter free. He grinned after her and wondered what she'd say if her told her just how much of a 'good' boy he *wasn't*, but he figured that he didn't need the headache that would follow if she fainted and knocked herself in the head. Instead, he grabbed his own cart and made his way into the main part of the store only to find himself in the fresh produce section.

Nothing on the list would be found here, so he quickly made he way past the bins of bananas and grapes and such. When he reached the end of the isle, he glanced around to make sure no one was looking his way. Then, he picked up an orange and threw it with accurate aim and great force at the precariously balanced pile of apples. Laughing softly under his non-existent breath, Spike walked off as dozens of bright red shiny apples spilled across the tiled floor.

The first relevant isle he came across was on that held the paper products. He found the coffee filters easily enough. He simply had to look for the familiar box to know which type worked with Xander's machine. It was blue and had a picture of a steaming cup of joe on it, so it wasn't that hard.

Then, he walked further down the brightly lit row to the toilet paper. Here, he stopped and frowned. As a member of the walking undead society of Sunnyhell, he didn't *use* the bathroom for such... trivial nastiness. That was a mortal thing and one he was more than glad he didn't have to deal with. It was bad enough that when he drank too much beer he had to go take a piss, but that other... Spike shuddered at the very thought. It was just too gross... even for a Master Vampire.

However, his lack of knowledge about the subject *did* bring up an interesting point. Just how *much* of the quilted stuff did one mortal need in a week?

He'd never done the shopping, nor did he ever really pay too much attention when Xander came home with his bag of goodies. Spike's only concerns were for his smokes, his beer and his butcher shop blood. And the occasional piece of chocolate. Once he'd found those items in the shopping bags, he generally left Xander alone to put his stuff away in relative peace. So... he truly had no clue here.

Figuring that one bag of the stuff a day aught to do the trick, Spike grabbed up seven bags of four rolls each. Thinking that if his nummy- treat used more than that, he just *really* didn't want to know about it, Spike stuffed the toilet paper into the cart and pushed it onwards.

In the next row, Spike found the pasta. Arbitrarily deciding that regular spaghetti was *way* too boring in comparison to some of the other shapes available, he grabbed a box of some in a funky spiraled- twisty shape. Then... having visions of decorating his Xander-pet like a kindergarten Arts & Crafts project, he also grabbed up a box of wheels, bow-ties and tube-like ones called pencil points. Silly name, neat-o shape.

Then, with a smirk, Spike grabbed a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil. Lubricant, right?

By that time, Spike figured that the mysterious 'stuff' that went with the pasta was spaghetti sauce. He new that Xander favored Ragu (TM) brand, but he didn't see any on the shelf. A little further down there was tomato paste, so he grabbed that instead. Couldn't be *that* different, right? After all, they were *both* made out of tomatoes... However, the cans were *really* small and Spike had *lots* of pasta, so he took every single can on the shelf. Thirteen in all.

A quick trip through baked goods and Spike snagged a small container of ready made chocolate frosting. His love-pillow *did* list lubricant on the bloody list, after all. Chocolate cake frosting *definitely* counted as lube, at least in *Spike's* book it did.

Turning into the next isle, Spike grabbed a loaf of WonderBread (TM) and had visions of wearing french toast slathered in melty butter and dripping maple syrup on his otherwise naked body while his Xander-toy nibbled and nibbled. Feeling his cock twitch in his jeans, he made a mental note to hunt down the syrup while he tried in vain to remember what other ingredients went into making that delightfully sticky breakfast.

And then he was in the drink isle. He grabbed up a two litter of his lover's favorite soda and tossed it into his increasingly full cart. This shopping crap was harder work than he thought and he wasn't even done yet. Feeling thirsty, Spike pulled a single can of orange flavored soda-pop out of a six-pack and popped the top. Then he brought it up to his mouth and took a large swallow. And grimaced. Yuck! With a visible shudder of disgust and a touch of awe that his Xander-pillow could actually bring himself to drink that rot, Spike put the can back right where he had found it.

Wanting to get away from the carbonated-nastiness, Spike quickly pushed his cart into the next isle and found the cleaning supplies. The people cleaning stuff was on one end of the row and the house cleaning stuff was at the other.

Grinning a snarky grin, Spike figured *this* was his reward for performing this inane task. *He* got to pick out the bloody shampoo and he was gonna get the *good* stuff and not that cheap crap Xander always brought home. Practically purring in delight, the bleached blonde vampire allowed his bright shinning eyes to roam over the shelves just crammed full of hair-care products.

He read labels carefully. He even went so far as to open a few bottles and sniff at the contents. He carefully weighed his many options and choices.

He eventually decided on four different types of shampoo, two separate conditioners, a deep-heat conditioner and repair oil, four different gels, a mousse and a light mist hair-spray that promised to add shine and gloss to his hair.

Moving right along the isle, he found the fabric softener and frowned. He looked and looked, but he couldn't find *any* that didn't have a fake chemically added *flower* scent. He was William the Bloody! He didn't *want* to smell April fresh dammit! With a scowl, he grabbed the least pink plastic bottle he could find and crammed it into the cart.

At the very end of the isle he found bug-spray. He remembered his lover complaining the last time they had patrolled about being eaten alive by the nasty little bugs that flew through the air at night. Spike had, of course, taken the boy's mind off of his troubles by offering to be the one to eat him alive and they had dashed behind a bush for a quicky. As fun as that little tumble in the weeds had been, he guessed that his snuggle-toy was still irritated by things of the creepy-crawly variety.

The only problem was, the bug-spray Spike found wasn't the 'spray on your body' sort. It was the 'Oh shit we have cock-roaches' kind of spray. With a shrug, Spike couldn't really see *too* much of a difference. He grabbed up an economy sized can of the brand with the cool skull and crossbones on it. Mosquitoes spray, cockroach killer... what's the diff?

Going down the next isle, Spike found the peanut-butter. Debating with himself for a quick moment between creamy and chunky, he had a vision of using it as a lubricant during sex. Grinning widely, he grabbed the creamy. He may be a demon, but that didn't mean he relished the idea of picking sticky hunks of chopped peanuts out of his ass.

In the next row, he found the macaroni and cheese. Grabbing a double handful of the bright blue boxes, he dumped them in his, by now, full cart.

It took him a moment or two of searching, but Spike soon found the chips and candy isle. He stood at the one end and stared in dismay. He didn't see a single item that his lover *didn't* like and the boy hadn't specified which ones he wanted on the list. How in *Bloody Hell* was Spike supposed to decide?

With a put upon sigh of exasperation, Spike slowly pushed the cart down the isle. Dutifully, he put one of every single item in the cart. Cookies, snack-cakes, chips, dips, pretzels, corn-twists, crackers, and sugar laden chocolates. It *all* went in to the cart.

A lady with two young children who had been loudly begging for her to buy them sweets all stopped what they were doing to watch him as he slowly made his way down the isle with their jaws hanging down. When he finally reached them, he turned and offered up a sly grin and a wink.

"M' lover's got a bit of a sweet-tooth and I've been bad recently. Can't hurt to go in armed with goodies if you're the type of bloke as don't know how to say sorry, right?"

The woman just blinked and the kids looked up at him in worshipful awe. Chuckling lightly, he walked off.

Wandering around the corner, Spike found himself in the dairy section. There wasn't anything he *needed* as per the shopping list, but he wanted to grab some pudding. After all, it made good lubricant and everyone, even vampires, needed to indulge in a light bout of vanilla sex every once in a while. Right?

Snagging a six-pack of pre made Jello (TM) vanilla pudding off of a shelf, Spike slowly made his way back to the check-out counters. Along the way, he passed a snooty looking bint wearing a flashy outfit and a high-style hairdo. She was heading to the deli, so he figured that she was here to pick up some sort of party tray. With an inner grin and a oh so casual move, he managed to get his hands inside of her open purse and her wallet out as she pranced on by. Quickly, he opened the leather wallet and slid out a Goldcard that had been near the back. Then, he closed it up and dropped it on the ground for her to find later.

Smiling cheerfully, Spike swiftly made his way to the check-out area.

He didn't have to wait in line *too* long, but he managed to palm a pixie-stick and two packs of gum. Once it was his turn to be rung up, the young blonde bint behind the counter shamelessly tried to flirt with him, but all he could think of was getting home and testing out the extra-virgin olive oil with his Xander-toy. About halfway through pricing his items, the teen girl shot him a look that spoke volumes about her opinion on his sanity and he briefly wondered if he'd not grabbed enough toilet paper some such rot. Well, if he didn't, that was just too bad. Xander could come buy some more of the fluffy stuff on his own.

Finally, the girl totaled his order up and only more than a century of surviving shocks and demonic horrors kept him from shouting in surprise at the final cost. Then, with a shrug of unconcern, he handed over the stolen Goldcard

"Charge it luv."

With a nod, she ran the card through her machine and it spit out a piece of paper. He took it and a blue pen and scrawled a wiggling mess that didn't contain a single letter. The girl flashed him another smile, wrote her phone number on the bottom next to a smiley face and her name and then passed him the receipt. Smiling, Spike pushed his cart full of paper bags out into the atrium.

This time, the automatic doors didn't give him any problems because they sensed the full shopping cart, if not him. Taking great care to grind and bang the cart into every car he passed so as to scratch multiple paint jobs with one go of it, Spike finally reached the DeSoto. Opening the doors, he carefully arranged his shopping bags in the back seat amongst his and Xander's collection of weapons and empty beer bottles. Then, he walked the, now empty, cart to the back of his car and popped the trunk. It took a few moments and he had to bend and twist the metal frame a bit, but he managed to shove the thing inside. Slamming the trunk shut on the stolen shopping cart he'd wanted as a memento of his first (and only) grocery shopping expedition, Spike climbed in and started his beloved motor up.

It wasn't until he was halfway home that he realized that he had forgotten to pick up coffee. The blonde vampire wondered for a second if he should go back and get it, but then he decided that his Xander- pillow didn't *really* need caffeine *that* much. Right?

END