Priority number one in Xander's list of things to do was to stay away from compact, dark, and bleached. After the lunch debacle there had been a tenseness in him that Spike hadn't even had the decency to mimic. While Xander was doing the internal panic attack, he sprawled out like he owned the mall entirely and only graced everyone else to wander his halls.

Xander resisted the urge to stab him with his plastic fork.

That jerk had some nerve to just…just say that, like he knew everything about Xander. He had just been looking around and, okay, the guy had looked nice in a beach boy sort of way that reminded Xander of preps and Aeropostle, and, okay, so what Spike said hadn't been wrong but…

No, he didn't think like that. He had better control than that. He was supposed to be looking at pretty girls, like Buffy and Willow and Cordelia, because they were all way hot or so he'd been informed. Everything else was in The Box, capital letters added for the gravity of what it held. The Box was supposed to be kept locked, except for the occasional moments where he would be alone and sure no one would find him for a while. It was not to be traipsed around in during a mall visit.

He speared a water chestnut, imagining it to be Spike's face, when he heard the girls come up behind him, three voices of excited chatter all over-lapping each other. Xander spun about in his chair, eyes eagerly searching out and waving them over. He may as well have been acting like an eager puppy ready to escape the groomers, and he was received about as well as one.

Willow came skipping up to him, giving him a hug from behind while Buffy patted his head with a chipper, "Hi, Xander!" They flock on either side of him, Buffy pulling up a chair before he could offer his to her. Dawn went to the other side of the table, beside the beast, himself, propping her elbows on the table and eyeing their food ravenously.

"You should have seen that man," Willow said with merriment in her voice as she gave Xander's arm a shake. He couldn't help but tense, but she didn't really notice in her enthusiasm. He refused to meet the blue eyes he knew would be dancing across the table. "He looked exactly like Snidely Whiplash! I mean the same moustache. Oh! And! He even twirled it."

From across the table, Spike said smoothly, underhandedly, "Yeah, too bad we missed that, huh, Whelp?"

He sent a covert glare over to the blond, noting miserably that the smirk only grew. Then beside him, Buffy growled with a roll of her eyes. "I had almost forgotten you were here," she bemoaned. "You didn't get into any trouble with him around did you?"

"Nothing! Lots of nothing!" At their shocked looks, he smiled hesitantly, before demanding, "Stop pushing!"

From the corner of his eyes he saw Spike sneer at his antics, but firmly ignored him, because he was staying away from the menace. Yes, that was what he was doing and would be doing a better job of if they all weren't sitting together at the table, and they weren't including the prick in on conversations that would probably embarrass him.

"Maybe you should have less caffeine," Dawn said with a concerned tilt of her head.

Buffy shook her head, her eyes wide as if she couldn't quite believe that he was what she had befriended. "No, that's just Xander in all of his strange glory…" Then she completely ignored his squawk of indignation, just as blatantly as he disregarded Spike's amused smirk.

He was finding it very hard to avoid Spike and it was getting quite taxing not to sneer back when one was offered to him. It didn't help that Spike had started sucking his noodles in, from one end to the very last of it. He wasn't sure if that was to tease Dawn, who looked like she was undergoing torture, or himself, because really… really.

"Xander, you look kinda flushed. Are you sure you should be here? There are a lot of people and we would understand…" Willow said, sounding a little worried, a little guilty, a lot hesitantly.

Box! Xander demanded as he looked at his best friend, and said, "I'm okay, Wills. Just kinda…y'know. Warm. It's warm in here. Don't…you…think?" He laughed a little nervously, pulling at the collar of his tee.

He was met only with raised eyebrows from his table, and on incredibly amused smirk from the only other male at the table.

He fiddled with his cast for a moment, scratching an itch that wasn't there.

From beside him, Buffy abruptly said, "I am starved. I could eat a cow!" Then she paused. "Well, not an entire cow, 'cause that would be gross and so not conducive to my diet. A salad…with chicken. Maybe an entire chicken. I think I could eat a chicken."

She stood, and without pausing Willow did too. He had to resist the panicked urge to say he would go with them. He knew it would get him more odd looks, and though he was used to them, he thought maybe, just maybe he should curtail that urge. He tucked into the remnants of his meal once again, stabbing an errant piece of pork in his Styrofoam container and chewing violently.

"Dawn, you coming?" Willow asked, pausing by the younger girl.

Xander glanced up. Why, he would never allow himself to know. She was looking at him with wide, sweet eyes, a question hovering ominously in them. She broke the gaze quickly though, smiling so convincingly it almost made him hurt. "Yes! I'm starved!"

She hopped up and followed the other women-folk, only casting one look over her shoulder at the men remaining at the table. Xander gave a small wave with his casted arm, fingers wiggling about like little worms from the ground.

Left alone with Spike again, the awkwardness intensified and he stared at his plate until Spike shuffled in his chair, leaning over the table and staring until Xander was forced by some unknown force to meet his striking, smirking gaze.

"Well played, pet."

Xander really, really wanted to stab him. Really.