"Thought we were going to the grocery store," Spike said as they pulled into a small, dimly-lit parking lot in front of a small, brightly-lit shop.

"We are. This is a grocery store," Xander replied, putting the car in park and setting the emergency break.

"Where's the building the size of a warehouse? Where's the car park as big as a football field? Where are the endless aisles of products that taste worse than their brightly-colored cardboard containers?" Spike slouched further down in his seat.

"This isn't a mega-mart; it's an organic store." Xander shut off the ignition and unfastened his seatbelt.

"Organic? I've heard about that scam on the telly. Half the chemicals for twice the price. Can't believe they charge you extra for not putting stuff in the food."

"It's Willow's birthday, and she's big into organic right now. I think she said something about fueling her inner goddess. Whatever. It's healthy, and it's just for one meal."

"You know, there's a reason that people put all of those preservatives and artificial flavors into food. Makes 'em taste better."

"I thought you just said that the food in the regular grocery store tasted worse than their packaging," Xander said.

"Don't be a pedant."

"A what?"

Spike opened his door.

"Never mind. Let's just get this over with."

Xander followed Spike into the store and grabbed one of the small shopping carts.

"So what are we looking for? Tofu and wheat germ?" Spike asked.

"Eggs, cheese, mushrooms, broccoli, whole-wheat bread, salad stuff. I've got a list."

"Do I even want to know what you're planning on making?"

"Well, Tara gave me this easy recipe for quiche, so..."

Spike snickered.

"Hurry up, then, before you turn into a poof."

"Having sex with another man isn't enough, but making a quiche is?"

"You're having sex with me. That doesn't make you gay; I'm just irresistible."

Xander snorted. He pushed the cart into the produce section of the store.

"Are you saying that I'm not irresistible?" Spike asked.

"Depends on your mood. When you're all grumpy and covered with demon goo, you're not so big with the hotness."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, viscera in your hair isn't exactly your best look," Xander said, fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket.

Half-smiling, Spike waited.

"Okay. Fine. You're always hot," Xander admitted.

"Bloody right I am. Now pay attention to your list."

Xander inspected the heads of lettuce and bunches of carrots before setting one of each in his cart. He was moving toward the radishes when Spike spoke.

"Don't think much of this place. Their bananas are all brown. Make sure the other stuff isn't rotten."

"Ugh. That's disgus... Oh," Xander said, looking at the sign. "Those aren't bananas; they're plantains. Whatever those are."

"Plantains, right. I've eaten those. Dru loved 'em all caramelized," Spike picked up a piece of fruit and turned it over in his hands. "There was this little café we used to visit after hunting, and we'd sit outside in the humid night air while she had her dessert. I'd smoke a cigar, and she'd sing raptures over the plantains. 'Course, one night she ate the cook instead of his food, and we had to move on. Can't remember where that was. Ecuador, maybe?"

"Can we not stroll down macabre memory lane right now?"

"Was just helping you out with the menu, that's all. Could make 'em for dessert."

"I'm not making your crazy ex-girlfriend's favorite dessert for Willow's birthday."

"Your loss, mate. It was good." Spike put down the plantain and waved his hand to encourage Xander to continue with his shopping.

Xander grabbed the rest of the produce he needed and maneuvered the cart through the narrow aisles to the cheese display.

"Let's see. I need grated parmesan and extra-sharp cheddar."

"Here's some parmesan," Spike said. He held up a hefty wedge.

"I don't need that much, and it isn't grated."

"How hard it is to grate cheese?"

"First of all, you have to clean the grater afterwards, which is annoying. Secondly, you have to bandage all of your fingers after you slice them up on the grater, which is time-consuming," Xander said, picking up two packages of grated cheddar.

"I could bandage 'em for you. Got plenty of practice with taking care of wounds. Could do it right quick."

"Or you could just find me some grated parmesan."

Spike rolled his eyes and tossed the wedge of cheese back into the refrigerated case. He held out a plastic bag for Xander's inspection.

"Thank you," said Xander, placing the cheese into his cart. "Okay, eggs next."

"What are free-range eggs?" Spike asked when they stopped in front of the rows of cartons.

"It means that the chickens are allowed to wander around instead of being kept in little boxes."

"Shouldn't they be called eggs from free-range chickens, then? This way it sounds like the eggs are allowed to hop around the yard by themselves."

"And you called me a pendant," said Xander, checking the eggs inside of one of the cardboard containers.

"Pedant."

"Whatever."

Spike snorted.

"What else do we need?" he asked.

"Just bread."

"Do I even want to know what that stuff's made of? Do they have free-range wheat?"

"I don't think so. I just want a loaf of whole-wheat bread. Or maybe some rolls. How hard can it be?"

"Good. You go find that, and I'll pick up some Pop Tarts."

Xander grabbed Spike's arm before he could walk away.

"I don't think they sell Pop Tarts here."

Spike frowned.

"How 'bout chocolate?"

"They've got to sell chocolate," Xander said. "I mean, they're health nuts, not insane."

"Right, then. I'll go get some chocolate."

"And if you see any peanut butter, get some of the creamy kind. We're running low."

Spike nodded and wandered off. He didn't return until Xander was thoroughly confused by the differences between sprouted and whole grains.

"This store is run by idiots," Spike said.

"No luck?" Giving up, Xander picked a loaf at random and placed it on top of the carrots.

"They don't have any normal chocolate. Extra dark, almond-essence, even sodding bergamot, but no plain milk chocolate. Bergamot! If I wanted something that tasted like tea, I'd have a cup of bloody earl grey!"

"What about the peanut butter?"

"You don't want to know," Spike said.

"They ruined peanut butter?"

"Let's just say there was stirring involved."

Xander shook his head and pushed the cart toward the front of the store.

"I think we've got everything. Let's get out of here. We can stop at the regular store on the way home."

"Can we get Pop Tarts?" Spike asked.

"Yes."

"Can we get chocolate?"

"Sure."

"Can we get a frozen pizza so I don't have to eat quiche?"

"Don't push your luck."

~end~