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Cicirossi
It started with with a (fictional, we hope) ice cream/donut/sex shop rest area on the highway. And then it just grew until it ate Cici's brain.
Rated NC-17. Contains rampant silliness, ice cream abuse, food as sex toys. If you're bothered by slash you might not want to keep reading....
Spike, Xander, and the Buffyverse ©Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Warner Brothers,
UPN, 20th Century Fox, Sandollar, and probably some other people I've forgotten.
It's Joss' world, we just like to play in it.
"We are not amused, Spike. Not at all. That guy wanted to buy me."
"Just for a few hours, pet," Spike replied, between snorts. "Hell, if you weren't mine I'd make the same offer. Why do you think Anya and I get on so well?"
"You mean you, while we were still? Oh God."
"She turned me down because I didn't want to let her watch. Showed her, didn't I? I'm the one who's got you now."
He looked so smug, and sounded so proud, that Xander couldn't be mad. "You are one strange duck, you know that? Now put that credit card to good use and buy me donuts and ice cream."
They stuffed their bags into the back seat, and Spike did just that. They bought a few dozen assorted donuts, hot off the line. Xander inhaled two while they waited to pay, inciting an indignant protest from Spike. He had plans for each and every one apparently. Then they went and got ice cream. Xander let Spike choose, imposing only one limitation, the same one he had placed on donut buying. Nothing with nuts or sprinkles. They chafed.
Back at the car, Xander pulled out the keys, which he'd stolen out Spike's pocket while Spike was dithering over paddle versus hairbrush, and jumped into the driver's seat. Spike protested. Xander ignored him. Spike pouted. Xander held fast. Spike leaned over and whispered something in Xander's ear. Xander pulled the car around to the darkest back corner of the parking lot and handed Spike the keys.
Not quite an hour, three hot fudge sundaes, and five donuts later they were ready to go. By that time, Xander was a satisfied, drowsy lump, once again ensconced in the passenger seat. He would just sleep the rest of the way to Las Vegas, and hope that he woke up alive. A loud "I almost forgot" from Spike actually got him to crack one eyelid open. He was just in time to see Spike pop up out of the back seat clutching the Hopalong Peter. Spike removed it from its box, and set it carefully on the dashboard. There was enough sticky ice cream residue there to make sure Pete wouldn't fall off unless Spike really had to lay on the brakes. Somehow, that sight ought to bother him. Xander was sure it would when he woke up. Right now, it just seemed fitting.
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