Work Text:
"Slayer," Spike says, wandering into the room shirtless, "your boyfriend is staring out the window and brooding again."
Buffy grimaces, applying the last coat of sparkly green polish to her toenails. She's not sure it's her color. "He's your boyfriend too, you know."
"Don't remind me." Spike flops onto the couch, putting his boots up on the table. He raises his voice. "Oi, Angel. D’you ever get tired of the angst routine? Go pour yourself a drink and snap out of it."
Angel appears in the doorway soundlessly, rolling his eyes at Spike before leaning towards Buffy for a kiss.
