Spike tossed down the notebook he'd been writing in and gave a snort of disgust. "This is going nowhere." They'd been working for five hours and were tired despite the coffee they'd been consuming.
Faith glared at him and ran her jittery fingers through her tangled hair as she slumped on her elbows at the round table piled with books. "Why are we the ones doing this again?"
Lifting his injured leg, he pointed his toes at the bandages wrapped tightly around her ribs beneath the sports bra. "Both injured, useless." He cursed beneath his breath and reached for his cigarettes.
"Remember what Giles said about smoking around his precious books."
"Fuck him."
She gave him an intrigued look and he rolled his eyes as he lit a fag, then tossed her the pack. "I bet he knows all kinds of kinky, dark sex magic."
"Most of that's bollocks. Or you end up standing on your head for three hours neither of you moving. Fucking difficult when all you want to do is pump your dick in your girl."
Laughing, Faith lit her own cigarette and leaned back in the chair to smoke, wincing at the pull on her sore ribs. "Sounds boring. Pumping's where the fun's at."
"So I vaguely remember," he groused under his breath as he reached for another book and ignored Faith's snickers.
"I told you, Spike, you just need to march up to Buffy--okay, hobble up to Buffy, and lay down the law."
"And have her put her fist in my nose for the hundredth time? No thanks. We're taking it slow."
"The polar ice caps are melting faster than you are at getting into her panties."
"I have all eternity."
"Well, she doesn't. And since I have to share her room while we're stuck here in London at Council headquarters, I know she's a bit, let's say, frustrated."
"Huh?"
"Out of her mind horny."
He gaped at the brunette slayer and she made a buzzing sound then chuckled and reached over to fill her mug from the coffee urn. "Want another hit?"
"You're already bouncing off the walls making rude comments." But he passed her his mug for a refill.
"That wasn't a rude comment. A rude comment would be 'Buffy isn't getting any so she's wearing out her vibrator'."
"...Back to work." He took his mug, drank half the coffee in it, and grabbed another book.
Faith stared blankly at the open text in front of her. "What language is this prophecy in again?"
"No clue."
"So chances of us actually translating it are pretty slim."
"Yep."
"Think they're just getting us out of their hair while they go out and kill stuff?" she asked, with a pout on her face.
"Probably, but neither of us are up to a battle."
"Then instead of doing busy work, we could be watching Big Brother on the telly. I have a quid on who's getting evicted next."
Glancing at his watch, Spike banged shut his book and grabbed his cane. "Come on, luv. I know where Buffy hides her stash of microwave popcorn."
Leaving the books behind without a backward glance, the wounded warriors hobbled out of the library, their minds on everything but the untranslatable prophecy.
End