A/N: Why do we do it? You tell me. Why do we do it?

Disclaimer: I really don't own much of anything and certainly not Spike. How sad.


"This is a special case, Spike, it does NOT need an idiot like you dealing with it!"

"But, Angel, I'm bored! I've exploded every bloody thing worth exploding, except of course Captain Forehead here, because he won't shift himself down to the lab so I can do the honors! Now gimme the case before I bring the dynamite up here!"

Spike followed Angel as the elder walked in circles around the office, trying to simultaneously shake off his pursuit and do some organizing. Both failed miserably.

"Fred would notice a dust mite missing from her lab, let alone dynamite, but suprisingly she doesn't notice you! Ever wonder why?!"

"There is no dust down there."

Angel whirled around and grasped the famous leatherclad shoulders, finally out of patience. "Spike!!" The subject of Angel's intense, angry stare tilted his head like he always did when he was in the mood to intimidate and the staring match of the century began.

Harmony was absently tuning in to her boss' conversation, curious if they ever said anything worth gossiping about. The sudden silence puzzled her for a second. Maybe they were taking a rest break. She'd bring the refreshments. Grabbing two mugs of preheated blood Harmony always had on hand, she walked briskly over to the office. "Okay, boys..."

Her perky sentence died on her lips. Very quietly she half-closed the door and placed the mugs on the ground carefully before looking frantically around for someone who would know a love spell when they saw one. Ah, Wesley, perfect!

"Wesley, Wesley!" Harmony beckoned wildly with her free hand and whispered as loudly as she dared. He looked up, finally, and strode over a little too loudly for her tastes. She put her finger to her lips-no, not like that- until he got the message. Now tiptoeing, Wesley reached her and asked, "What is it?"

Harmony motioned to keep it down,' God, when would he get the message?' Then she opened the door a little more for Wesley to peek through. He did, and then quickly came back out. She closed the door after him.

"What should we do? I mean, is it a spell? Cause who would do that?" Harmony asked, unsure what secratarial protocul she should follow in this unlikely a situation. Wesley shook his head grimly.

"No, I don't think this is the case. A love spell would progress"- He paused and swallowed-"a lot quicker than this." Wesley was then struck by a new thought and put his ear to the door. "Wait... I don't hear any lip-smacking."

Harmony copied him. "Neither do I. That's weird, Spike's a noisy kisser." Then she shrugged. "Still, that's a pretty clear picture. What should we do?"

Wesley thought for a second, then decided that first things first. "Harmony, call Deals and Agreements. Tell them all bets are off."

Inside the office, the eavesdropping duo in question had changed the contest from who-can-go-the-longest-without-blinking to who-can-stare-with-the-most-horror-in-their-eyes. It was broken when Angel spat out, "Ughhh..." They sprang apart faster than either would have believed possible until that moment.

Spike added, "Oh, God...I mean..."

Angel nodded vigourously and finished the thought. "I know... they have bets... on me."

Spike's head shot up "Hey, on me."

His grandsire was too distracted by various punishments for Deals and Arrangements, so he gestured in an incorporating manner, "Us."

Glancing almost, but not quite, in Angel's direction, Spike shot one of the oddest looks he had ever made in his unlife until realization hit him. "Oh. Not well put."

Spike made his "Yeah, duh." noise from a further twenty feet away. And he was still needing his personal bubble recognized.


A/N: I truly have nothing against the idea of Angel/Spike. At all. I just don't think it's very likely.

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