Standard disclaimers...This is my drive-by ficcing. It takes place shortly after "Angel."

This one is dedicated to Beth, who always inspires my best conversations. :)

"Xaaaaander!"

"Hey! That was a door!"

"You missed it."

"Not by much. It's not necessary to injure me too, Willow. One cover-up is enough."

"It's not a cover-up, it's a...."

"Cover-up. Which you really don't need my help for at all anyway. Shopping is so totally out of my realm of knowledgeable experience."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Don't get lofty about it."

"If Buffy needs us to go shopping, we'll go shopping."

"Oh, hey. I didn't think of it that way before."

"I should have."

*****

"Really, Xander, why are you so resistant to shopping?"

"I don't know. Look, a frying pan."

"Look, you can't juggle."

"I just never do it. Why would we shop?"

"You have to buy clothes."

"Have you seen my clothes?"

"Oh."

"Aaaah! Ow!"

"Xander. Say bye to the nice frying pan."

"They're dangerous."

"Well, if you juggle them like--well, like things that you juggle--then of course they'll be--"

"Give it up, Willow."

"Okay." *****

"Is it in silverware?"

"Do I look like the kitchen king? Maybe the knife section."

"Knife???"

"The cutting thing."

"Cutlery?"

"Yeah!"

"Right. Right."

"I didn't know you knew how to roll your eyes. Good skill, there, Will."

*****

"What are we on by now, Aisle 100?"

"Xander, maybe we should ask for help."

"Oh, and what would we say, Willow? 'Please help us find a fork that makes you look like a vampire bit you?'"

"If I say that sounds like a good idea, you'll laugh at me, right?"

"Look! Fondue!"

"What is this thing you have with fondue?"

"There is no thing that I have for fondue."

"You just like sentences that end in 'fondue.'"

"Okay."

*****

"All right. This looks like a good-sized fork. Let's go."

"Wait."

"Willlllllowwwwww...."

"Do you want to help Buffy or not?"

"Quit using my adolescent hormonal feelings."

"No."

"Okay."

"Does this one look bite-sized?"

*****

"Okay, now who's gonna plant the goods?"

"Not me! Huh-uh. No way. That's sneaky stuff."

"Willow, you just spent two hours shopping for a *barbecue fork* to convince Mrs. Summers that she was accidentally kitchen-injured instead of being bitten by a psychotically jealously obsessed vampire."

"Yeah?"

"Welcome to the Land of Sneak-dom, Miss Rosenberg."

"Oh."

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