By Saber ShadowKitten & Avarice

SPIKE: Come on, Angel. It'll be fun.


SPIKE: Please?


SPIKE: Don't you love me no more?

ANGEL: (smirks) No.

SPIKE: (pouts) You have a stick up your ass the size of Wesley.

ANGEL: (snorts) Oh, that's going to make me say yes.

SPIKE: (triumphant) Ha! You just did say yes.

ANGEL: I did not.

SPIKE: Yes, you did.

ANGEL: No, I didn't.

SPIKE: Did, too.

ANGEL: (irritated) No. I. Didn't.

SPIKE: (sing-song) Di-id, too-oo.

ANGEL: (smack Spike upside the head) Don't tease the cats.


ANGEL: With that caterwalling you think is singing.

SPIKE: (looks affronted) You punned.

ANGEL: (holds up his hands) Don't look at me. You're the one who ate the


SPIKE: (thoughtful) I think cats are the main ingredient in burritos.

ANGEL: I think I'm going to be sick.

SPIKE: You are lookin' a bit green around the gills there, mate.

ANGEL: (hiding his smile) Which means I can't go.

SPIKE: (scowls) Nice try, pillock. You're coming.

ANGEL: (hand goes to his trousers) Are you offering?


ANGEL: (smirks) Then I guess I'm not coming, am I?

SPIKE: You're turning into a right bastard in your old age.

ANGEL: It's from having to constanly put up with *you.*

SPIKE: (stands) Then I'll leave.

ANGEL: (hopeful) Really?

SPIKE: (heads for the door) And I'm never coming back.

ANGEL: (really hopeful) You're not just teasing me again, are you?

SPIKE: Nope.

ANGEL: I think I might be happy enough right now to lose my soul.

SPIKE: Tell Angelus I said "hey." (the door swings shut behind him)

ANGEL: (to himself) Do you hear that? Me, neither. Isn't it nice?

(the silence grows) None of that awful noise Spike calls music. (more

silence) None of those stupid cartoons screeching "Pokemon! Pokemon!"

(deeper silence) No whiny childe making fun of my hair. (awful silence) No

carefree laughter. (too much silence) No moans of pleasure or breathy

gasps of my name.

(Angel darts for the door, yanks it open, and almost crashes into Spike,

who's on the other side)

SPIKE: (grinning) Miss me?

ANGEL: (sighs) Shut up. Let's go.

(fifteen minutes later...)

SPIKE: (wide eyed) Bugger, look at all the tits. Would it be wrong for me to moo?

ANGEL: (raises an eyebrow) Yes.

SPIKE: (stares after one voluptuous waitress) I think I have my milkpail in the car...

ANGEL: (grabs Spike by the collar none-too-gently) Why are we here?

SPIKE: Breasts!

ANGEL: What?

SPIKE: I mean, wings!

ANGEL: You're an ass.

SPIKE: (blue eyes follow a short-short's clad waitress) Ass is good, too.

SPIKE: Heart shaped...

SPIKE: Big ol'...

SPIKE: Skinny lil'...

ANGEL: (eyes the door longingly)

SPIKE: (closes his eyes) Cameron Diaz in those Spiderman knickers (shudders happily) Ahem. (adjusts self) Table, table, table, wings!

ANGEL: I'm being punished... I know...

SPIKE: You didn't have to come with, mate. (grins) We could go see Charlie's Angels again.

ANGEL: (looks panicked) No, I'm good.

SPIKE: (shrugs) Okay. (turns to hostess) Two. Bar area.

ANGEL: How on earth do you find out about these places?

SPIKE: (hostess leads them through the restaurant)Find out... It's Hooters!

ANGEL: (looks blankly) Yeah?

SPIKE: (stares at Angel incredulously) You've *never* heard of Hooters?!

ANGEL: (gets snippy) Obviously not.

SPIKE: (glances down at Angel's crotch) Are you sure you're male?

ANGEL: Last time you checked.

SPIKE: Then... then... (gesticulates wildly) Hooters!

ANGEL: I get it, I get it... Jesus...

SPIKE: (climbs up onto one of the high stools at the round table the hostess showed them to) Angel, this is an important part of male bi and het culture! It's Hooters!

ANGEL_: Enlighten me, oh wiseass- I mean, one.

SPIKE: Tits, asses, white tennis socks.

ANGEL_: (mutters to himself) Culture's come so far in two centuries, hasn't it...

SPIKE: (waitress comes to table, clad in cut off white Hooters tee, blue short-shorts, white tennis socks and white tennis shoes. Spike eyes her speculatively) 'Allo, cutie.

ANGEL: (rolls his eyes) Spare me.

SPIKE: (to waitress) What's on (eyes drop to her chest) tap, luv?

ANGEL: (stares resolutely at his clenched hands. The waitress rolls her eyes, but smiles encouragingly)

SPIKE: (chuckles) I'll have a MGD, pet. The poof'll have a Kiddie Cocktail.

ANGEL: (raises an eyebrow) I'm not the one acting like a child, Spike.

SPIKE: (eyes the waitress as she walks away) I'd act like a baby if it got me some milk from her jugs.

ANGEL: You really are quite disgusting.

SPIKE: (touches the tip of his tongue to his top lip) And you love it.

ANGEL: No... right now.. you're fairly well entrenched in 'undesirablely disgusting'.

SPIKE: (attention is caught by another Hooters waitress) Uh-huh. (sighs) I wouldn't mind gettin' a leg over on that one.

ANGEL: Really? Which one?

SPIKE: (gestures with his chin) The blond. (eyes move onto another one) Or the brunette. (to a third) Redhead's are nice, too.

ANGEL: (nods his head) I see... Well, it'd be hard with two broken legs...

SPIKE: (trying not to drool) 'It' would be hard even with a stake shoved in me heart, with these precious pretties.

(The waitress returns with a beer and a cherry fruit drink for Angel)

SPIKE: Ta, luv. Tell me, (leers at her) how are your thighs tonight?

ANGEL: (Angel's eyes widen. The waitress smirks, leans closer to Spike and whispers in his ear)

SPIKE: (licks his lips) Sound's rather hot, baby.

ANGEL: (grinds his teeth together) Are you done?

SPIKE: No, I'm as rare as this sexy thing (winks at the waitress).

ANGEL: (smiles thinly at the waitress and hauls Spike over half the table by his collar) You're going to be raw and bloody if you keep this crap up.

SPIKE: Oi! Lay off!

ANGEL: I'm sorry, am I (yanks the collar roughly) hurting you?

SPIKE: You couldn't hurt me if you tried, you effin' pillock. Now, let go!

ANGEL: (releases Spike's collar and sits back in the chair, turning to the waitress) Please bring me something stronger. Whisky, if you've got it.

SPIKE: (glares at Angel, but smiles at the waitress) And some of those hot wings you were talking about. (The waitress nods and leaves. Angel laces his hands and places them on the table carefully. Spike swigs his beer and glares at Angel.)

SPIKE: Stop sulking.

ANGEL: I am not- (drops voice) sulking.

SPIKE: (grumps) Just because you can't appreciate a great pair of legs, don't ruin my fun.

ANGEL: That's not true. Besides... you are *not* looking at their legs.

SPIKE: (thoughful) You're right, I'm not looking.

ANGEL: (under his breath) Yeah, you're practically *humping*.

SPIKE: (oblivious to Angel's words) I'm imagining them wrapped around me as I hammer-

ANGEL: (irritated) I'm right here, y'know

SPIKE: (blinks and focuses on Angel) Oh, right. Damn. How's a bloke supposed to pick up Hooters Girls with Brooding Brow along?

ANGEL: You can't be serious! You want one of these plastic, wannabe Barbie dolls?

SPIKE: (smirks) Well, I already have my very own anatomically correct Gay Ken doll...

ANGEL: (annoyed) I am not gay! I'm a vampire. Isn't that always your line of defense?

SPIKE: (As if speaking to a child) Pet, look at me, then look at you. If people were to think I was gay, they'd be truly devastated.

ANGEL: Excuse me, flawed logic boy... You can't look at yourself, just like I can't... how the hell do you know?

SPIKE: (lazy smile) Watch.

(The waitress returns with Angel's new drink and Spike's chicken)

SPIKE: (addresses waitress) Luv, what would you say if I was to tell you I was a homosexual?

WAITRESS: All the sexy ones are always gay. I'm devastated.

SPIKE: (chuckles) Now, what if I were to tell you he (gestures to Angel) was gay?

WAITRESS: I'd say: Duh.

ANGEL: (glares scathingly at Spike, who is making eyes at the waitress) I fairly well despise you.

WAITRESS: It's evident in his speech, too.

SPIKE: (purrs) What about my speech, ducks?

WAITRESS: (flirting outrageously) Makes me wish you'd take me out back for a few language lessons.

SPIKE: (winks) Good thing I'm not a poof like the poof then, eh?

ANGEL: (scowls at the waitress in a threatened manner and lowers his voice to a rumble) Do you even want to leave here with all your parts intact?

SPIKE: (waggles brows) Maybe there's a certain part of me I don't mind leaving behind. (The waitress laughs, shakes head, walks away)

ANGEL: Like say... your spleen?

SPIKE: (rolls eyes) Shesh, you big fairy, I was only flirtin' with the chit. No need to get jealous.

ANGEL: I am not. (gulps down his whiskey)

SPIKE: Liar.

ANGEL: Liar's childe.

SPIKE: Oh, that cuts me (thumps his chest) right here, mate. Truly.

ANGEL: Good. We going now?

SPIKE: No, we're not going now. (gestures to his chicken) I just got me wings and you still have your (gestures at the Kiddie Cocktail and promptly knocks it over)... mess.

ANGEL: (eyes flash gold) This just gets better and better.

SPIKE: (leans up and peers at Angel's shirt) No stain. You may smell a bit fruitier... although you're plenty fruity without the spilled cocktail.

ANGEL: (stands up and snarls through barely contained canines) I'm cleaning this up. When I come out of the bathroom, you'd better be ready to leave.

SPIKE: Right. Whatever.

ANGEL: (bares his teeth) Don't. Fuck. Me. Around. William. (stalks off to the bathroom)

SPIKE: (watches Angel stalk off) Ooh, I'm scared. (turns back to his chicken to find he's stuck his arm in the barbequed food) Bloody hell!

{In the bathroom}

(Angel has his shirt off and hanging over the cubicle door while he splashes it with water. Spike stomps into the bathroom, muttering and growling)

SPIKE: This is your fault!

ANGEL: (whirls around) What?

SPIKE: You made me slop on myself!

ANGEL: (turns back to his shirt and tries to use soap to scrub) Is that what you're calling premature ejaculation these days?

SPIKE: (narrows his eyes at Angel as he wets a paper towel) You're getting right nasty.

ANGEL: (turns back and does a passable english accent.) Oh, that cuts me (thumps his chest) right here, mate. Truly.

SPIKE: (wipes the mess off his sleeve) Fuck you.

ANGEL: Can't. Pre-ejaculation, remember?

SPIKE: (taps Angel on the shoulder)

ANGEL: (turns around) Something to add?

(Spike punches Angel. Angel's head snaps around and he staggers backwards a few steps, skull thumping painfully against the tiles)

SPIKE: Bite me, arsewipe.

ANGEL: (grabs Spike by the arm, swings him around, and socks him back) Don't. Hit. Me.

SPIKE: (eyes flash) Watch me. (Jumps at Angel with a snarl)

ANGEL: (dodges, catches the back of Spike's duster, and shoots him towards the sinks)

SINK: Clang!

SPIKE: (drops to knees and shakes head) Neat. Birds.

(Angel kicks Spike in the ass. Spike yelps and jerks upright, hitting the sink again)

SINK: Clong!

(Spike slides bonelessly to the floor)

ANGEL: (glares) Get up.

SPIKE: (face mashed against dirty tile) That's okay. I like it here.

ANGEL: (frowns) Get up, Spike.

SPIKE: (sighs) Fine. (Pushes up to one knee and starts to stand)

SINK: Claannng!

SPIKE: (starts to go down again) Oh, bugger...

ANGEL: (hands on his hips) Tsk tsk... good thing you're not damaging an important part of your body.

SPIKE: (watches the bouncing stars) Angel? I hit my head.

ANGEL: S'what I said. Not damaging an important part of your body.

SPIKE: (starts to lay down) Stop makin' fun, I's hurt.

ANGEL: What d'you want from me? To kiss it and make it better? You wouldn't be hurt if you didnt punch me first. (touches his split lip tenderly)

SPIKE: (mumbles) Used t' kiss Dru an' make 'er better.

ANGEL: Yeah, well she wasn't half the pain in my ass that you are... (moves to crouch down beside Spike)

SINK: Clang!

SPIKE: (giggles) You clonked your noggin.

ANGEL: (rubs his head) Now who's gonna kiss *this* better?

SPIKE: (pushing up, keeping a wary eye on the bad sink) I think I could be of some assistance.

ANGEL: (almost uncertain) You sure you still want to play with an anatomically correct Gay Ken doll?

SPIKE: (leans closer) Never liked blond bimbos...

ANGEL: (smirks) Too bad I've always had a thing for them. (ruffles Spike's bleached hair)

SPIKE: (half-smiles) Are we having a -- gag me -- moment?

ANGEL: We're having some kind of moment. Whether it's one I need to gag you for (grins) remains to be seen.

SPIKE: (laughs lightly) Naughty Angel, I like you.

ANGEL: (moves closer, a predatory gleam in his eye) Better be a lot stronger than 'like' for what I'm about to do to you in the bathroom of a straight man's wet dream.

SPIKE: (wraps an arm around Angel's neck) Shirtlifter's, too. After all, Hooters has the best chicken, why wouldn't they also have the best cock?

ANGEL: Very funny. (leans in for kiss)

SPIKE: I agree. (leans in for a kiss)

SINK: Claaannggg!!