Angel, holding papers, looking around desktop: "I just had a paperclip." Looks up, sees Spike bending a paperclip. "Hey!"
Spike: "What?"
Angel: "That's my paperclip."
Spike: "So what? You've got a dozen boxes in your desk."
Angel, growing the great stone face of simmering rage: "You don't take things off my desk. Got that?"
Spike: "It's a bloody *paperclip*!"
They snarl, fight, dust each other simultaneously.
Angel: "Give me the remote."
Spike: "Sod off."
Angel: "Spike."
Spike: "Angel."
Angel: "Give me the remote and I will not shove this very large whiskey bottle up your--"
Spike: "Oi!"
Angel: "I'm not kidding around here."
Spike: "You know, if you need an auxiliary penis, you might want to try a gun. I hear they're very--"
Angel: "ROWRRRRRRRR!"
They snarl, fight, knock over the couch, crash together into the TV rendering the whole argument moot but without noticing, then wind up in a compromising tangle on the rug at which point Buffy walks in and raises her eyebrows.
Angel: "Stop it."
Spike: "You stop it."
::mutual seethe::
Angel: "Eggs aren't round, Spike, they're...ovoid."
Spike: "Same thing."
Angel: "No, it's not."
Spike: "Ovoid. Oval. Round."
Angel, grimly: "Globes are round. Balls are round."
Spike: "Not looked down there in a while, have you?"
Angel: *punch*
Spike: "Hey. This parrot likes me!"
Angel, muttering: "I could have a parrot. If I wanted." ::sulks::
I could do this all day.
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