Angel sighed, somewhat disgusted, at his wearing-out-her-welcome roommate. "You got peanut
butter on the bed."
Cordelia frowned at him. "Really?" She shook her head. "I don't think so."
Angel looked down at his hand, then dropped it, not bothering to hide his unhappiness. Cordelia
stood up, towel in hand. "Fine, I'll go look," she said, then headed back towards the bedroom.
"No, no, no," Doyle said, giving him a hurt look. "Angel man how could you?"
"How could I what?" Angel asked, confused, as he headed towards the sink to wipe his hands.
"Come on, you know I was crazy about her. And I was wearing her down, too. But no,
handsome, brooding vampire guy has to swoop in all sensitive mouth with the overhanging
forehead," Doyle said.
Angel frowned slightly and touched his forehead.
"How 'bout leavin' some scraps for the homely lookin' fellows who don't turn evil when they
get some?" Doyle asked.
"Cordelia stayed over because something was wrong with her place," Angel told him. "I was on
Doyle looked towards the sofa. "Oh, well," he looked back to Angel, "guess that's okay, I
Angel gave him a look which read "thank you so very much."
"Angel, at some point in recent history, you got peanut butter on the bed," Cordelia said as she
walked into the kitchen, dressed and with a hairbrush in her hand. "And it's gross. I think
you're going to have to change the sheets."
"I don't eat," Angel said, trying to keep patient.
"Well then I don't even want to know how it got there."
Spike sighed as he stopped in the archway to the bedroom. He'd been right, it had gotten boring
fast. "Come on, you old poof, where'd you put the bloody ring?" he muttered, his eyes roaming
around the fastidiously neat room.
Reaching into the pocket of his duster, he pulled out the second Reese's Peanut Butter Cup --
the first having been eaten after he'd eaten the boy who'd had the chocolate treat -- and
unwrapped it. Sticking the wrappings back into his pocket, he glanced down at the peanut butter
cup and said in a game show host voice, "And how do you eat a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup?"
"What do you mean?" Spike answered himself in a high-pitched, valley girl accent. "Is this, like,
a trick question?"
"Like that thar one with the hoot?" he continued in a cowboy voice. "How many licks does it
take to get to that thar center of a Tootsie Roll Pop?"
Spike changed his voice again, this time to that of a nasally nerd. "It has been scientifically
proven that it takes exactly nine hundred and seventy-four licks in the exact same spot to reach
the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop."
The blond vampire looked at an invisible game show host. "Can I eat him?" he said in his normal
"Now, none of that," he replied to himself in the game show host's voice. "The only eating that
will occur is that of the peanut butter cup. So I ask you again, Spike, how do you eat a Reese's?"
"I," Spike said, in a voice once again his own. "Eat." He began to nibble on the peanut butter
cup. "The chocolate first," nibble, "until all that is left," nibble, nibble, "is," nibble, nibble, nibble,
"the peanut butter part."
Between his thumb and forefinger, he held a small somewhat square hunk of peanut butter.
Grinning to himself, he popped the treat into his mouth and walked further into bedroom, looking
around again. "Now all I need is schum miwk," he mumbled around the candy.
With another sigh, Spike absently wiped his peanut buttery fingers on the comforter, then began
to search for the Gem of Amara once more.
Angel just sighed, clenched his fists, and walked back to his bedroom to get dressed.
"Hey Cordy, you're lookin' great, by the way," Doyle said to Cordelia, who was sitting at the
kitchen table, brushing her hair.
"I wouldn't know, the man doesn't have a mirror," Cordelia complained. "Like it would kill him
to not see himself?"