"How come I have to be Magenta?" Xander complained.

"'Cause Riff Raff is a blonde," Spike replied, gesturing towards his own bleached hair.

"Riff Raff has long, stringy hair," Xander accused.

"Only willing to go so far for realism."

Xander, sensing defeat, took another tack. "Besides, we don't have costumes."

"You think I can't turn up a maid's outfit in less than five minutes?"

"In my parent's basement?"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Course you'll have to shave your legs," he added, as if that were nothing.

"What?"

"Stockings. Hairy legs. Don't go together."

"No. No way."

"What? You don't want to feel my tongue meandering its lazy way up your long, silky legs?"

Xander blinked a few times. "Guh?" he asked before shaking his head. "Don't say things like that," he said, his breath getting heavy.

"Why not? It works" Spike said with a smirk.

"That's why not. 'Cause I always end up doing things I regret."

"Come on," Spike said, leaning in to stroke his hand down Xander's back. "What's to regret about getting hot and heavy with your brother?"

Xander leaped back. "Brother?"

"Well, yeah. In the movie, their sibs."

Xander crossed his arms. While he didn't get what the problem was, Spike could tell that Xander wasn't going to go for it. With a sigh he asked, "Well, what do you want to do then?"

"I don't know," Xander replied, still looking antsy. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh no," Spike said. "I picked the last one, which you so rudely rejected. It's your turn."

"I don't know," Xander said, pacing the room. As his eyes lit on a video, he said, "How about Kirk and Spock? I'll even let you be Kirk."

With a guffaw, Spike said, "You? As Spock? Couldn't pull it off. Now, Chekhov maybe."

"Hey, not way I'm going to be Chekhov. Oh, I know," his eyes lit up. "Bester interrogating a blip."

Spike's eyes narrowed in consideration. "Could work. Blip's a right good description of you."

"Hey," Xander shouted. "I'm Bester." Pulling on a lock of hair, he said, "Right color. Remember?"

Spike flopped down onto the couch as if exhausted. "At this rate, we'll never get to shag."