"Oh, ah, Spike, as flattered as I am that you think I might be able to...we just don't have that sort of friendship."
"Wot? The kind where you tell him he's being a thick skulled git who can't see two inches in front of him? Yeah, ya do. Seen it."
"Um, the thing is, we really don't talk about our...love lives. Got rather off on the wrong foot with that one, I'm afraid. I suppose it all started when I was impersonating him." He paused to consider this.
"Wait. What? You impersonated Angel?" His voice turned gleeful, "Did you use the hair gel, then? Flounce about brooding?"
"Hm? No, I borrowed his coat. And don't think I didn't notice your incredulous tone. Cordelia had a vision, a girl was going to be sacrificed and the client assumed that I was he." Wesley shrugged. "We did not endeavor to correct him."
"And started shaggin' the client." Spike was smirking. "Oooh, didn't know ya were that type of bloke, Wes. Did she know about the curse? How'd you get around that?
Wesley straightened up and glared at Spike, "Obviously by lying through my teeth, but, if I recall correctly, we're discussing your love life, not mine."
"You started it."
Wesley just gave Spike a look and Spike raised his hands in surrender.
"Right. So how did you donning the hero mantle preclude you and Angel talking about your sweeties?"
"Um, well, rather a lot happened that year...I was shot, Angel went rather off the deep end and began hunting Darla and Drucilla...and we're both rather private individuals, Spike. It's difficult in the best of times for either of us..."
Spike put his head in his hands and moaned. Then, he leaned forward and beat his head several times against the lab counter. Wesley moved a few more items out of his way.
"Why can't you talk to him yourself?"
His forehead still resting on the counter, Spike replied, "'Cause if I go in there now, he'll just pretend it never happened or brush it off that I was winding 'im up and nothing, nothing I say otherwise will convince him that's not the case."
"And having a third party discuss things with him...?"
Spike sat up eagerly, "Will be able to remind him that I'm not the wanker I used to be...never did get I'd changed, always thinkin' the worst of me, he did, but if you told him that I was here all the time, tryin' to help him while he was lying there...he might..."
"You're very eloquent, Spike, when you need to be."
"Yeah, but that's not the thing. The thing is that he don't exactly see that he's..."
"Worthy of that kind of devotion."
"Right. Never did. Great mantle o' guilt gets in his eyes a bit."
"Oh dear, that is a problem."
"Tell me about it."
"And Spike," Wes said very gently, "there is the curse."
"You think two vamps with our sorta history are gonna find perfect happiness? An' who better n'me to deal with it if he does slip the soul? Not gonna happen, anyway."
"Yes, and reminding your potential lover you're prepared to kill him if you make him happy is such a selling point."
"Would be for him, and you know it. And since I been tryin' to kill him for years, that part will get through his skull - easy. "
"Good point. All right, Spike. I can't promise anything, but if I do see a natural point in the conversation where I can extol your many virtues, I will do so."
"And don't make it seem obvious, like."
"I believe the proper response is, 'Thank you, Wesley,"
Spike rolled his eyes, "I was getting to that part, crikey! Thank-you-Wesley-for-helpin'-me-drill-through-Peaches'-thick-skull."
"You're so romantic. I feel as if I'm in a play."
With a derisive snort, Spike stood and headed for the door. "Well, ta again, Wes, and hope you and Rupes have a lovely time tonight and that you get lucky."
"Spike,"
"What?" Spike said innocently as he looked over his shoulder. "I meant the darts."
"Wot? The kind where you tell him he's being a thick skulled git who can't see two inches in front of him? Yeah, ya do. Seen it."
"Um, the thing is, we really don't talk about our...love lives. Got rather off on the wrong foot with that one, I'm afraid. I suppose it all started when I was impersonating him." He paused to consider this.
"Wait. What? You impersonated Angel?" His voice turned gleeful, "Did you use the hair gel, then? Flounce about brooding?"
"Hm? No, I borrowed his coat. And don't think I didn't notice your incredulous tone. Cordelia had a vision, a girl was going to be sacrificed and the client assumed that I was he." Wesley shrugged. "We did not endeavor to correct him."
"And started shaggin' the client." Spike was smirking. "Oooh, didn't know ya were that type of bloke, Wes. Did she know about the curse? How'd you get around that?
Wesley straightened up and glared at Spike, "Obviously by lying through my teeth, but, if I recall correctly, we're discussing your love life, not mine."
"You started it."
Wesley just gave Spike a look and Spike raised his hands in surrender.
"Right. So how did you donning the hero mantle preclude you and Angel talking about your sweeties?"
"Um, well, rather a lot happened that year...I was shot, Angel went rather off the deep end and began hunting Darla and Drucilla...and we're both rather private individuals, Spike. It's difficult in the best of times for either of us..."
Spike put his head in his hands and moaned. Then, he leaned forward and beat his head several times against the lab counter. Wesley moved a few more items out of his way.
"Why can't you talk to him yourself?"
His forehead still resting on the counter, Spike replied, "'Cause if I go in there now, he'll just pretend it never happened or brush it off that I was winding 'im up and nothing, nothing I say otherwise will convince him that's not the case."
"And having a third party discuss things with him...?"
Spike sat up eagerly, "Will be able to remind him that I'm not the wanker I used to be...never did get I'd changed, always thinkin' the worst of me, he did, but if you told him that I was here all the time, tryin' to help him while he was lying there...he might..."
"You're very eloquent, Spike, when you need to be."
"Yeah, but that's not the thing. The thing is that he don't exactly see that he's..."
"Worthy of that kind of devotion."
"Right. Never did. Great mantle o' guilt gets in his eyes a bit."
"Oh dear, that is a problem."
"Tell me about it."
"And Spike," Wes said very gently, "there is the curse."
"You think two vamps with our sorta history are gonna find perfect happiness? An' who better n'me to deal with it if he does slip the soul? Not gonna happen, anyway."
"Yes, and reminding your potential lover you're prepared to kill him if you make him happy is such a selling point."
"Would be for him, and you know it. And since I been tryin' to kill him for years, that part will get through his skull - easy. "
"Good point. All right, Spike. I can't promise anything, but if I do see a natural point in the conversation where I can extol your many virtues, I will do so."
"And don't make it seem obvious, like."
"I believe the proper response is, 'Thank you, Wesley,"
Spike rolled his eyes, "I was getting to that part, crikey! Thank-you-Wesley-for-helpin'-me-drill-through-Peaches'-thick-skull."
"You're so romantic. I feel as if I'm in a play."
With a derisive snort, Spike stood and headed for the door. "Well, ta again, Wes, and hope you and Rupes have a lovely time tonight and that you get lucky."
"Spike,"
"What?" Spike said innocently as he looked over his shoulder. "I meant the darts."
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