"What are you doing here?"

Spike had barely had two bites of his burger when he was ambushed by Angel. He glanced up as the brooding male slid into the booth across from him, his brow furrowed as usual.

"Well, to be honest, McDonald's always makes my tummy feel a bit uneasy after I eat it," Spike said. He sipped at his drink as he peered at his unwavering sire.

"I'm not asking why you're at a Burger King, Spike," Angel said with his hand practically plastered to his face, "I'm asking why you're here. What are you doing here?"

Spike set his cup down before picking up his burger again. "The kids nowadays call it 'eating your feelings'," he replied nonchalantly, seeming to examine the layers between the buns. He took another bite.

Angel let out an exasperated sigh. "Spike."

Spike continued to chew then swallowed, followed by another sip of his drink and another bite of his burger. Eating in silence was possibly the most entertaining thing as he watched it eating at Angel. When he had two bites of his burger left, he finally spoke: "I mean, I would have drowned my sorrows in alcohol, but this was infinitely cheaper, being that I'm strapped for cash. Not so sure if this seems to be helping much, though." He sipped at his drink and let out a soft sigh.

"Spike, I'm not leaving until you tell me what you're up to," Angel warned, his tone serious. He watched as Spike popped in the last morsel of his burger and scrunched up the waxed paper. "Did you hear what I said? Spike!"

Spike resorted to poking a cold french fry in the tiny cup of ketchup and took a nibble. "Incomparable to the chips we get back home," he said with a little shake of his head. Rather than setting it down, he swirled it around in the goopy ketchup like it was a tiny cauldron.

Angel wasn't sure what sort of antics his progeny was up to, but he was on the verge of irritation. If they weren't in a public environment, he would have dragged him out the door by the collar—kicking and screaming would have been an added bonus. "Come on, we're getting out of here. I'd rather we talk in private."

"But aren't we? Unless my maths is off, there are only two of us sittin' here, and we're already talking." Spike grinned. He could practically count the wrinkles growing on Angel's shortening forehead space.

"Spike," Angel said with controlled force, "this isn't a matter of discussion. Let's go. Now."

Spike blinked and raised his brows dramatically. "Was that a threat?" he placed a hand to his chest feigning surprise. He giggled at Angel's dour expression and wagged the fry in his face. "Someone's put their big boy pants on today, haven't you?"

Spike's laughter was cut short when Angel snapped forward and grabbed him by the wrist. "Stop that! I don't want to cause a scene!" he hissed.

"A little too late for that, innit, mate?" Spike smirked and turned to glance to their side.

Angel paused momentarily and followed suite, only to be met with odd stares and whispers from the other customers in the restaurant. The clerks behind the counter added a nervous tension with their wide eyed bewildered expressions, seeming unsure whether that was a situation they needed to call their manager for. Angel's scowl had immediately dropped and was replaced with a slightly slackened jaw.

"Everything's all right, love," Spike said, spotting one of the workers hovering nearby wiping down a waste receptacle. "He's not too happy with how this blind date has turned out. Though to be fair, I had higher expectations myself." Finding that it seemed to both put out the fire Angel had caused (though it was really Spike) and inevitably raised more questions, Spike turned back to his sire and wrenched his hand out of his unrelenting grip. "You're welcome," he said a little tersely.

"I'm not thanking you when you're the one—" close to shouting, Angel leaned in a little closer and dropped to a whisper, "when you're the one that caused it!"

Spike scoffed. "What bloody merit badge did that earn you? 'Not-being-grateful-and-being-a-complete-dick-in-public' badge? Well, scout, give me the sash and I'll sew the bloody damned thing on for you myself! You've earned it!" Spike shot both thumbs up and gave him an enthusiastic wink.

"You know, there's a cause and effect for everything. When it concerns you, your actions usually outweigh what you say, but you don't seem to know your boundaries with me. Your words are the cause, Spike, and how I respond, is your effect."

"Oh, spare me!" Spike rolled his eyes. "I didn't come here to get an earful of your whinging! I didn't ask you to come, I didn't even invite you to bloody join me, so why the fuck are you sittin' here, Angel?"

"Don't turn this around on me, Spike. I asked you that first."

Spike stood up abruptly and stopped next to him. "Do me a favour and spot me a twenty."

Angel glanced up at him. "What do you need it for?"

"Food is a poor substitute to alcohol. I'd rather drown my sorrows the old fashioned way."

Angel didn't budge. "No."

"Well, I suppose that's nothing to be worried about. Thought I'd try since you're here. I always have my five finger discount."

Angel shoved the bill to Spike's chest before he could walk away. "I'll be adding this to your tab with all the other money and favours you owe me," he said in all seriousness.

"Thanks, love," Spike said with a smile. With the bill clutched in his hand, he turned around and began to walk backwards. "And that's how you properly express gratitude!" he shouted loudly, a gratuitous two-fingered salute directed at Angel till he had backed out of the door.

Angel sighed and pulled himself up out of the squeaky booth. He knew he shouldn't have stopped when he had spotted Spike through the window, but it didn't make sense that he was so far from Sunnydale. Spike always had an ulterior motive when he happened to just 'show up'.

With even more stares and whispers that his progeny had left for him, Angel did his best to ignore them and glanced out the window. He spotted Spike shoving his hands into his pockets, wearing the same expression as he'd seen him the first time. But it hadn't occurred to Angel then—since Spike had been eating—just how downcast he had looked. Did look. Even… sad.

A/N: This really just started out as a dialogue between Spike and Angel (in my head) with Spike mentioning something about eating his feelings and wanting to get drunk rather than listening to Angel. But then it ended up as sassy Spike actually being sad Spike. Oops...