It's An Adventure

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 how much 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*? I can have sprinkles?"

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?"