Title: Humpty Dumpty
Author: PokerKitten
Rating: PG (mild cussing)
Summary: AtS S5. Post-Soul Purpose. Spike and Angel, up to no good. Response to the 15 Minute Ficlet challenge -
Word #49 (spring)
Disclaimer: Joss, ME, Fox yadayada own the characters. I just mess with them.
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Humpty Dumpty
"Spike!" Angel's tone was warning, impatient. "Just give it back!"
"If I do, will you quit chasing me round the desk? I'm not Harmony, incase you hadn't noticed!" Spike wiggled his hips provocatively and evaded Angel's lunge.
"I have never chased Harmony round a desk!" Angel, blustered, face the very picture of outraged indignation.
"Figures" Spike smirked. "You great poof!"
He came to a standstill an arm's length from Angel, tossing the baseball from one hand to the other, blue eyes filled with mirth and fixed on his dour grandsire. Sad to say, this was probably the most fun he'd had in days! And if the big lug would only loosen up a bit, he'd probably be of the same opinion.
"So" he continued. "What's so special about it anyhow? Looks like it's seen better days, to me."
Angel ground his teeth in annoyance, trying to keep his cool. "It's signed, Spike. By Babe Ruth. It's....."
"A collectable. Okay, I get it. But we could still step out to the parking garage, toss it around a bit. Get some exercise." Spike eyed Angel's midriff meaningfully, and laughed as the big man made another dive for him. "Or did you have some other form of exercise in mind?" he grinned, eyebrow raised, backing away rapidly.
"Enough Spike. This is just too...."
"Childish? Yeah, you're right. Catch!"
Spike lobbed the ball towards Angel, taking him totally by surprise. He had been expecting this game to continue for a long while yet, maybe culminating in grabbing the limey wretch and pinning him to the desk and.... Angel hastily suppressed the inviting mind picture and stretched to catch the worn ball. CRASH!
"Damn!"
"Oops, vampire butterfingers" Spike snorted. He strode over to the bookcase behind the desk and stood beside the crestfallen Wolfram and Hart CEO. "Bugger!"
"Shit!"
"Bollocks! Quick! We can fix it." Spike cast a furtive glance over his shoulder.
"You think?" Angel asked anxiously, picking up the pieces.
"All the king's horses and all the king's men..." Spike muttered, chewing his lower lip. "Couldn't put Humpty together again."
"Not what I want to hear, Spike."
Together they spent the next couple of minutes frantically fumbling to repair the damage, fingers brushing, hands slapping each other away, trying to slot everything back into place.
"That should do it" Spike declared triumphantly.
"You think?" Angel repeated plaintively, scrutinising their handiwork. "But what's this?!"
"It's a spring, you moron!"
"Yes, but..."
"Just give it here" Spike urged.
Angel was replacing the object on the shelf when they heard the door handle turn, both souled vampires giving guilty starts as the door opened. Spike hastily pocketed the coiled wire.
"Hey!" Charles called out a warning from across the office. "Don't touch the robots!"
Author: PokerKitten
Rating: PG (mild cussing)
Summary: AtS S5. Post-Soul Purpose. Spike and Angel, up to no good. Response to the 15 Minute Ficlet challenge -
Word #49 (spring)
Disclaimer: Joss, ME, Fox yadayada own the characters. I just mess with them.
*************************************************
Humpty Dumpty
"Spike!" Angel's tone was warning, impatient. "Just give it back!"
"If I do, will you quit chasing me round the desk? I'm not Harmony, incase you hadn't noticed!" Spike wiggled his hips provocatively and evaded Angel's lunge.
"I have never chased Harmony round a desk!" Angel, blustered, face the very picture of outraged indignation.
"Figures" Spike smirked. "You great poof!"
He came to a standstill an arm's length from Angel, tossing the baseball from one hand to the other, blue eyes filled with mirth and fixed on his dour grandsire. Sad to say, this was probably the most fun he'd had in days! And if the big lug would only loosen up a bit, he'd probably be of the same opinion.
"So" he continued. "What's so special about it anyhow? Looks like it's seen better days, to me."
Angel ground his teeth in annoyance, trying to keep his cool. "It's signed, Spike. By Babe Ruth. It's....."
"A collectable. Okay, I get it. But we could still step out to the parking garage, toss it around a bit. Get some exercise." Spike eyed Angel's midriff meaningfully, and laughed as the big man made another dive for him. "Or did you have some other form of exercise in mind?" he grinned, eyebrow raised, backing away rapidly.
"Enough Spike. This is just too...."
"Childish? Yeah, you're right. Catch!"
Spike lobbed the ball towards Angel, taking him totally by surprise. He had been expecting this game to continue for a long while yet, maybe culminating in grabbing the limey wretch and pinning him to the desk and.... Angel hastily suppressed the inviting mind picture and stretched to catch the worn ball. CRASH!
"Damn!"
"Oops, vampire butterfingers" Spike snorted. He strode over to the bookcase behind the desk and stood beside the crestfallen Wolfram and Hart CEO. "Bugger!"
"Shit!"
"Bollocks! Quick! We can fix it." Spike cast a furtive glance over his shoulder.
"You think?" Angel asked anxiously, picking up the pieces.
"All the king's horses and all the king's men..." Spike muttered, chewing his lower lip. "Couldn't put Humpty together again."
"Not what I want to hear, Spike."
Together they spent the next couple of minutes frantically fumbling to repair the damage, fingers brushing, hands slapping each other away, trying to slot everything back into place.
"That should do it" Spike declared triumphantly.
"You think?" Angel repeated plaintively, scrutinising their handiwork. "But what's this?!"
"It's a spring, you moron!"
"Yes, but..."
"Just give it here" Spike urged.
Angel was replacing the object on the shelf when they heard the door handle turn, both souled vampires giving guilty starts as the door opened. Spike hastily pocketed the coiled wire.
"Hey!" Charles called out a warning from across the office. "Don't touch the robots!"