"Fuss, fuss. The thing was about to strike. It was on your back. What was I supposed to do?" Spike asked, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.
"Ask me to turn around," Angel replied, his voice getting louder with each word.
"Heat of the battle," Spike protested, holding his hands up in front of him. "There wasn't time."
Angel pointed at his own chest, where a sword blade was protruding. "You just like stabbing me!"
"I—I'm shocked. Shocked that you'd say that. I much prefer hitting you with blunt instruments," Spike replied, grinning smugly.
"Argh!"
~*~*~*~
Gunn sat on his desk, computer screen reflected in his glasses.
"Three little maids who, all unwary, come from a ladies' seminary, freed from its genius tutelary. Three little maids from school! Three little maids - " Gunn stopped singing, then started to rap. "and ya don't stop with all the ladies in the... gangsta but... go... what's up?"
Wesley grinned slightly. "I should ask you. You seem unutterably cheery."
"I am," Gunn replied. "I am. Look... I gotta be straight with you, cause this is kinda blowing my mind."
Wesley nodded, taking the seat in front of Gunn's desk. "Tell me."
"Fred and I are getting back together. She was so keyed up from last night's fight, she asked me over. We ended up talking for hours, like old times. Then, all of a sudden... I can't even keep this up, cause your face is gonna make me weep. Wes, I am so messing with you," Gunn said, grinning.
Wesley blushed slightly. "Oh, I, ah... was... oh... any news on Faith?"
Gunn chuckled. "Mmm, that's what you wanted to say."
The sudden shouting match made them both look towards Angel's office.
"That doesn't sound promising," Wesley observed.
~*~*~*~
"It's bollocks, Angel!" Spike exclaimed. "It's your brand of bollocks from first to last!"
Angel slammed his hands down on his desk. "You can't ever see the big picture. You can't see any picture!"
"Hey! I'm talking about something primal, alright? Savagery, brutal animal instinct," Spike shouted, gesturing wildly to make a point.
"And that wins out everytime with you," Angel countered, just as loudly. "You know, the human race has evolved, Spike!"
"Into a bunch of namby-pamby, self-analysing wankers who could never hope to triumph against - "
"We're bigger, we're smarter, plus there's a thing called teamwork, not to mention the superstitious terror of your 'pure aggressors'!" Angel argued.
"You just want it to be the way you want it to be!" Spike yelled.
"It's not about what I want!" Angel roared back.
Wesley opened the door of Angel's office, stepping in somewhat reluctantly. "Sorry, it's just... is this something we should all be discussing?"
"No," Angel said, after a moment.
"It just... it sounds a little serious," Wesley pressed.
"It was mostly... theoretical. We..." Angel trailed off, a little sheepishly.
"We were just working out..." Spike huffed. "Look, if cavemen and astronauts got into a fight, who would win?"
Wesley blinked. "Ah. You've been yelling at each other for the last forty minutes about this?"
Spike and Angel both looked at the ground.
"Well," Wesley said, thinking. "Do the astronauts have weapons?"
"No," the vampires chorused.
~*~*~*~
Angel sat at his desk, rubbing his temples. He really needed Spike to be gone, if only just for noise control. They really hadn't changed much since... they'd met, really.
Spike sauntered in, looking unimpressed. "Harmony just pulled me out of a very promising poker game down in Accounts Receivable, so this better be good. Oh, and, by the way, all the guys down there agree that astronauts don't stand a chance against cavemen, so don't even start."
"Look," Angel said, looking up. "I can't do this anymore."
"Aha," Spike replied, somewhat smug. "Admitting defeat, are you?"
"You and me," Angel went on. "This isn't working out."
Spike bought his hand up to his forehead, in a show of mock melodrama. "Are you saying... we should start annoying other people?"
Angel groaned in frustration.