Movie Night 
 
 

Movie night at the Hyperion. 
 
Fortunately for them all, Angel had yielded to the suggestion that, if he wanted any of his furnishings to survive the onslaught of more than a dozen teenage girls with Slayer powers, he would need to get a television - preferably several televisions. Also, fortunately, he had allowed Xander and Willow to pick them out. 
 
The Hyperion was now graced with a huge HDTV for the Lobby and smaller sets for the dining room and the conference room. Willow had quickly reestablished Wednesday Movie nights and peace reigned…mostly. 
 
There was a smaller, and probably more depressed, contingent in Angel's office, looking over the papers Giles wanted Angel to sign. It was anyone's guess why Angel had thought asking Spike, Buffy, and Wes to help was a good idea - well, maybe Wes, who could settle down to paperwork with the best of them, but the other two were pretty much a mystery. 
 
They had all been left to it without even a flicker of remorse. Then again, if the others knew what the film was? The lack of said remorse probably went both ways. 
 
"Daaaawnie..." Xander almost whined out the girl's name. "You told me the movie was about sports." The girl had done it to him again.... A League of their Own was so NOT what he wanted in a movie about sports... although, yeah, Geena Davis... Kinda hot.... And Madonna too.... 
 
Dawn pointed at the screen. "Baseball," she said indistinctly around a mouthful of popcorn. 
 
"So not the point... And they're wearing mini-skirts, which, yeah, cute, but ow when you slide.... " Xander shook his head. Why did he let them pick out the movies? He should know better by now. Dawn and Wils and several of the Baby Slayers were all enthralled... and he was just... Yeah...so entirely whipped. 
 
There was a sudden splutter as Dawn almost inhaled her mouthful of popcorn and then blurted out, "How do you know?" She collapsed sideways into giggles. 
 
"Uh... shorts... I've slid into home in shorts so I can imagine... and.... " Xander rolled his eyes and shoved against Dawn. "Stop it. Stop it now. As if my masculinity hasn't come into enough scrutiny through all the years of hanging out with chicks that can kick my ass.... it doesn't need any help from you" 
 
The shoving got nothing more from her than a faint "Skirt...heeee..." and more muffled laughter into the sofa cushion. After a bit, she managed - "Legs!" and was off again. 
 
There were sounds of shushing from the rest of the girls, so Xander obligingly muffled the sounds of her glee by covering Dawn with as many sofa pillows as he could commandeer. "Come on, Dawn. Not that funny." 
 
There was an obedient, and suspicious, silence from beneath the pillows, then a slight stirring near Xander's right hip. 
 
"Dawn...what? Eeep!!! " he suddenly bounced off the couch, shaking one leg and dancing around. There was again a multitude of shushing. "She put popcorn down my pants." 
 
Dawn sat up from under the pillows, shaking her hair back and looking smug. "Hah! That'll teach you!" The shushing was getting progressively more irritated as Xander continued his squirming dance. 
 
"Is this a new kind of interactive film?" Wes was standing in the doorway, looking equal parts amused and puzzled, mixed with a residue of 'tired, fed up, and contemplating homicide', that Xander guessed he had left the office to escape. 
 
"Women... " Xander rolled his eyes. "Or in this case, Little Girls." Dawn stuck her tongue out at him as he stomped off toward the kitchen... stopping about every third step to try to shake popcorn out of his pants. 
 
* 
 
Wes quirked his eyebrows at Dawn, who shrugged, and stuffed more popcorn in her mouth. No help there, then. He sighed, and followed Xander.  
 
"I never knew watching a film could be so....energetic," he said dryly.  
 
"Not supposed to be... " Xander unhooked his belt and his pants, removing them and shaking them out. "You'd think I'd get used to girls after so many years...." He brushed at his legs, trying to make sure he'd gotten all of the sharp, itchy stuff off. 
 
Wes snorted. "I prefer to think of it as watching dangerous animals in their natural habitat," he proffered, looking at the Popcorn Striptease and trying not to laugh. Somehow he had a feeling it wouldn't be appreciated. 
 
There was a sudden giggle at the door, and Xander jumped behind Wes. "Out. Go! Back to your movie..."  
 
"Out." Wes pointed sternly in the direction of the lobby, and the door closed with apparently no external assistance. There was a muffled 'Hey!' from the other side, and then Willow's scolding voice, giving a lecture on manners and appropriate behaviour, at which point he decided to tune them all out. "You get used to it?" he asked after a while, in mild disbelief. 
 
"Well, you'd think so, wouldn't you? I mean, I've been friends with Willow since we were five... that should give me some kind of immunity or something, don't you think?" Xander stood on one foot and shoved his leg back into his pants. 
 
"Or possibly no immunization whatsoever?" Wes suggested mildly. "Just a thought, here...." 
 
Xander snorted as he shoved his other leg back into the now-depopcorned pants and tugged them up over his hips, "Hey, you know me, Wes.... Hope springs eternal and all that stuff...." 
 
"In this case I think you might be better off stranding Hope on a rock in mid-Atlantic." Wes looked at the popcorn-strewn floor. "Or avoiding movie night. Either works." 
 
Xander followed the line of Wes' gaze, sighed and went to dig out a broom, "No, see... I can't do that either. Because then? Pouting and kitten-eyes and 'Xander you never spend time with us anymore.' And, well.... it's all too horrible to consider." 
 
"Kitten eyes?" Pouting Wes could truly empathize with, because it tended to be the main reason his resolve to not have, allow, or do things had an expiry date of two seconds, but this one was new. "Kittens?" he repeated in genuine bewilderment. 
 
Xander nodded, "Yeah...kittens. It's like they're trying to be all cute and stuff, but you know... you just know... that if you don't do what they want, you wind up with popcorn down your pants."  
 
And now Wes's mind had helpfully provided him with the image of a kitten industriously stuffing popcorn down Xander's pants. Thank you, brain. Nice to know irrelevancy has become a forte of yours. "And....this is even worse than the kicked puppy expression?" 
 
"Oh, yeah... because the puppy... If it doesn't get its way, it just sort of slinks off and curls up in a corner. You night feel guilty but that's it." Xander scooped the popcorn into the dustpan then went and dumped it. "The kitten? The kitten looks for ways to get even if it doesn't get its way." 
 
Wes mentally provided the kitten with a Kalashnikov, and nearly laughed. "So...in other words, there's a room full of homicidal kittens watching a film about baseball through there?" He shuddered melodramatically. "Brave man, Xander..." 
 
"And those killer kittens will be sending an emissary in here in about.... " Xander glanced at the clock, "About 10 more minutes for drink refills and more popcorn." 
 
He rummaged in the cupboard and pulled out a couple of bags, popping the first one into the microwave, "He serves who also makes the corn....."  
 
Wes did laugh, this time. "And so does he who thoughtfully brings beer and remembers to put it in the fridge." He made a small face. "On the other hand, you might like to swap, and go through to help keep civility as a vague possibility..." he gestured out towards the rest of the hotel, and, by extension, the office. "Seriously, kittens? Would be preferable." 
 
"Yeah.... but I'm kind of used to the girls... like I said, " Xander gave Wes a sheepish grin. "But speaking of beer? Want one?" He walked over towards the fridge. 
 
"God, yes." Wes leant back on the counter, and accepted the bottle. "Buffy," he said after a moment, "is midway through her third list about 'why I hate Angel'. Angel is pretending to find it all understandable. Charles is about to explode if he's not allowed to laugh, and Cordelia seems to have ganged up with Spike about something - and my God do I not want to know what that is." He took a long drink. "And this all under the guise of 'let's sort out the New Council paperwork'." 
 
"And yet, people are still asking me why I don't want to go to England...." Xander shook his head, removing the cap from his own bottle of beer. "And.... I hate to say it... but with all this..... ruckus... here? I almost feel sorry for deadboy." 
 
"It would take a heart of stone not to," Wes agreed. "And I think someone did something to his hair gel." But that was too much, even for him, and set his beer down on the counter as his laughter poured out. "Sorry," he gasped eventually. "It's just....he's trying so hard. And he's useless at paperwork at the best of times. And he looks so...so ridiculous, and so earnest, and he just - doesn't know!" 
 
Xander, somehow, had managed not to choke on his beer at the sound of Wes' laughter. It wasn't something he got to hear a lot of, which was a shame. It was a very nice sound. "Rona, I'd think.... She doesn't seem to care for him too much." 
 
Wes got some form of vague control back, but was still half-laughing. "Ah. That would explain a great deal." He took another swallow of beer, and managed to sound almost normal again. "I have a feeling I should worry about what else is lying in store for him, mind you." At Xander's enquiring look, he added, "Cordy. Spike." And then the dreaded word - "Bored." 
 
Xander looked up at Wes, alarm evident in his expression, "Okay... that is sooo not good." He grabbed the newspaper off the table and began frantically flipping through the pages. "Oh, come on.... It's Wednesday.... Saks has to have a sale going on...." 
 
"Xander." Wes looked rather as though he had suggested a nice trip back in time to spend a few quality hours with the Spanish Inquisition. "I would rather they pegged Angel out under a tree and dripped holy water on him. No. No shopping with Cordelia."  
 
Xander's expression changed to horrified, "Christ no! I was going to suggest Buffy.... and Wils.... maybe even Faith. My days as Cordy's private pack mule are sooo over." 
 
"Now that does sound manageable." Wes looked - and felt - considerably brighter at the thought. Not that he didn't sympathise with Buffy, but she and Angel in combination were beginning to wear on his last nerve, and he suspected that when he did snap, it was going to be at the wrong people and for all the wrong reasons. Removing one of the primary sources of his annoyance seemed like a wonderful scheme. "Are there any sales?" 
 
"Only on children's clothes, " Xander quickly turned another page, "Oh... yes! Banana Republic, Gap and Versace.... We're saved.... " 
 
"There is, indeed, a God." Wes snorted. "Do you think they'd kill us slowly, or be impressed, if they found out how good we were getting at manipulation?" 
 
"Cordy would be surprised. I don't think she's figured out yet that I've changed..... well, some at least. " Xander gave that sheepish grin again. "No more Hawaiian print shirts... no more baggy pants. And yeah, I can plan stuff... sort of... " 
 
"How to get two Slayers, a witch, and a Seer to go away? I'd say you rather excelled at planning." Wesley grinned suddenly. "Although the baggy pants might have helped with the, er -" he waved his hand vaguely, "kitten popcorn experience." 
 
Xander snorted at that, "No... trust me. It makes it easier to get the popcorn out.... but it also makes it easier to get the popcorn in... or, on one unfortunately memorable occasion.... a lizard... " 
 
He was doomed to a conversation involving small unpleasant creatures, Wes decided. Uncute and homicidal kittens, depressed puppies, and now lizards. And what would a lizard be doing mixed up with popcorn, anyway?  
 
"Wha'?" he asked coherently. 
 
"Don't ask.... Just... yeah, Willow... magic... and annoyed. Not a combination that I wish to experience often." Xander looked back down at the newspaper. "Hmmm... Lowes has a sale too. Might be able to pick up those special bolts I need...." 
 
Wes tried, and mostly succeeded, in hiding a grimace. Universal shopping expedition, then. "Right. Do you want to make the suggestion to them?" 
 
"Nah... won't need to. Just leave this open right there... " Xander artfully spread the newspaper out on the table. "... and wait for Cordy to come out..." 
 
"Mm, and we get her to leave the grand sport of Angel-baiting how, precisely?" 
 
"Like this, Oh Boss of Me... Watch the master at work...for *I* brought more to this shindig than popcorn and soda pop..." Xander pulled a box out of a bag stamp in gold with the Neiman Marcus logo. "Godiva chocolates.... Cordy can smell them a mile away... " He opened the box and arranged the little shaped bits of candy on a small plate. 
 
It wasn't that Wes doubted, even for a second, that this would work. He was just wondering how quickly it was going to work. He finished his beer, sat on the counter, and waited. For about ten seconds. 
 
"I thought I smelled..... I did! " There was a squeal and Cordy snagged a chocolate off the plate. "You're the best, Xan. Have I told you that lately?" She leaned in and kissed his cheek. 
 
"Well, not lately but--" 
 
"Ooooh, Banana Republic is having a sale....!!"  
 
Xander grinned at Wes. 
 
Wesley chalked an invisible tally mark in the air, and grinned back, with no intention of saying a word about what he had mentally dubbed the score. 
 
Kicked puppies - 1. Homicidal Kittens - 0.