"There is a question in the Buffyverse," a dramatic voice said. "A question never fully answered-"
"Well, it might have been answered, you don't know that for sure," another voice interjected.
"Do you you have to interrupt me like that? You just ruined the moment!" The first voice groaned.
"I'm just stating a fact." The second voice quickly added: "Sorry, go on."
"Where was I? Yes, the question. The question that could change the fandom forever-"
"Xander, Anya, what are you guys doing?" Dawn asked, entering the room.
"Answering an age old question," Xander kept his 'dramatic voice.'
"Xander wants to know how vampires shave," Anya told her.
"Oh," Dawn looked slightly less confused. "Why don't you just ask Spike or Angel?"
"Because it's a secret kept since the-"
"They won't tell him," Anya cut in.
"Oh," Dawn repeated. "Maybe it's embarrassing."
"That's what I'm hoping for." Xander said with a grin.
Late that night at the Sunnydale graveyard...
Buffy was not in a good mood. It had taken her all day to hunt down Sunnydale's newest demon problem, only to have it escape her at the last minute. As much as she hated having to ask Spike for help, she hated spending another twelve hours demon tracking even more. At least they could cover more ground with the two of them looking. So it was with much annoyance that Buffy casually kicked down the door the Spike's crypt.
"Spike, you need to...what are you doing?" Spike had jumped in front a large clay pot that appeared to be containing a small fire.
"Nothing!" He shouted, hiding whatever he was holding in his right hand behind his back. Then, in a failed attempt to try to look casual added: "None of your business."
Buffy considered informing him that the last time someone had said that to her in such a defensive tone she had been in the fifth-grade. Instead she decided to find out what apparently wasn't your business.
"What are you doing here?" Spike asked, in a not very good attempt to change the subject.
"I'll tell you, when you tell me what you were doing." Yup, this conversation had definitely turned to the both of them into fifth-graders.
"Demons right?" Spike continued, ignoring her. "Apocalypse? Dawn's in trouble? Something like that...?"
"Yeah..." She said slowly, then lunged forward, grabbing the fistful of papers he had been trying to hide.
"It's not what it looks like!" He exclaimed.
"You're burning pictures of yourself?" She held up the photos that she had taking from him.
"Well, yeah," he mumbled. "It's a long story."
In L.A...
Cordelia nocked four times on the door, looked down at her watch and nocked another four times.
"He said five minutes," Wesley reminded her.
"Twenty minutes ago!" Cordelia glared at the door. "This is an emergency!"
"I would hardly call it that," Wesley muttered.
"Well it could be," Cordelia shot back. "If he would just," yelled at the door: "get out of his room!"
"Cordy..."
"Honestly, what's taking him so long?" She nocked again, then turned the door nob. "It's not locked."
They waited a moment.
"I'm going in."
Wesley wasn't sure if he should follow her or not, so for a moment he soot awkwardly in front of the partly opened door.
"Oh my God!" He heard Cordelia gasp.
"I can explain!" Came Angel's voice in his 'I'm very uncomfortable' tone.
"I'm not sure I want to know," Cordelia spoke again.
"It's just because of the no reflection thing," Wesley heard Angel try to explain.
At this point he let curiosity get the better of him, and followed Cordelia into the room. He entered to see her and Angel at opposite ends of the room. Half of Angel's face was covered in shaving cream, he had a razor in one had and a camera in the other.
"Angel are you taking selfies?" He asked after a moment.
"Wesley, nobody calls it that!" Cordelia said, exasperated.
"Someday people will," he said with a grin.
"No they won't," Cordy and Angel retorted in unison.
Thanks for reading! I know, this is very corny... Please review!