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Cicirossi
Joss Whedon is God and owns all. It's still his world, although we like to sneak in the side door and cover Xander with chocolate sauce and whipped cream when no one's looking.
The Emporium Erotique was far enough from most of the usual patrol areas that Xander felt safe there, so that's where he went. It wasn't a chain store, so it was just a bit sleazier than he liked, but it was well lit and discreet and had a wide variety of videos to choose from. Somehow or another, Xander always felt like the girls would be shocked if they knew he and his good right hand spent so much time together watching movies, even after the sex life of Xander reports they used to get from Anya. Okay, and wasn't thinking of Anya a mood killer?
Some twenty minutes later, Xander was still perusing the selections, torn between Naughty Nurses and Bustalicious Beauties. He had a thing for firm, well-rounded, "Spike?"
Yep, it was Spike all right, looking over his shoulder at Xander with an aggrieved expression. "Can't get rid of you lot to save me, can I?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Injecting mentholatum into tubes of lube. What does it look like I'm doing?"
Eyeing Spike's bulging pockets, Xander said, "Um, shoplifting?"
"Oh, ta, mate. Could you say that a bit louder? I don't think the gentlemen in the peepshow booths heard you back there." With quick, disgusted motions Spike emptied his pockets before the manager took more than one step in their direction. "Now what am I going to do to amuse myself, eh?"
Unaccountably guilty, Xander offered, "You could always come back to my place and watch whatever I rent."
They stared at each other for a moment, and Spike could be no more surprised than Xander was at the gesture. Xander had no idea what had possessed him to ask (and on the Hellmouth possessed could be taken literally) but he didn't take it back. He was even more surprised when Spike shrugged and said, "Yeah, okay. Why not?"
Since there were two of them, they got both movies. Actually, they got three, because Spike insisted that they take home one of the ones he tried to lift, but Xander didn't get a really good look at it. He drew the line on his sudden and inexplicable niceness when Spike tried to insist that he drive. It was almost companionable. Mostly because neither one of them said much. The weird, I'm being decent silence lasted all the way back to Xander's apartment, where Xander wandered into the kitchen to make popcorn while Spike made comfy on the couch. No, he normally didn't do popcorn with his porn, but Spike was there, so he had to have something to do with his hands besides what he usually did.
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