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Author's Chapter Notes:
:) I know, you hate me. But hey, you already know how it ends ;) They're just wasting some time.
“It needs more capers!”

“No, it needs more tomatoes. That’s why it’s called tomato sauce you ponce.”

“Are you daft? More tomato will just...bugger the whole thing up. Don’t you bloody well do it!”

“Or what, you’ll throw your capers at me? Scary!”

“Capers? No. I have the ultimate weapon--diced onions!”

“The vampire in me cringes. The scary vegetable-wielding poofter is going to throw diced onions at me. I’m shakin’ in mah booties,” Will said sarcastically. Spike’s eyes narrowed on his spoon wielding twin.

“Call me a poofter again and I will stake you,” he warned. Will raised the wooden implement, the tomato sauce running down it like blood.

“Is that a promise...poofter?”

Spike launched himself at Will, tackling the sauce-spoon wielding miscreant to the floor. Laughing, they started an all-out wrestling match on the floor, control of the red-stained spoon the main objective. Will had the upper hand, smearing a thick streak of red on his opponent’s forehead with a victorious laugh.

“Gone native have we?” he said, trying to keep the spoon away from his face while laughing uproariously. Spike grabbed Will’s hand and started forcing it toward his face, trying to land a solid hit on the thrashing body beneath him.

“Hold still you little bugger!” Will suddenly bucked his hips, sending Spike tumbling over him. He was up in a flash, holding the spoon like a sword.

“En guard!” Spike scrambled to his feet, dodging the wooden spoon. He ran into the dining area, grabbing a wooden candlestick. Will stopped short upon seeing his opponent armed, calculating the best way to take him down.

“My name is Inigo Montoya,” Spike intoned. “You killed my father. Prepare to die!” They started fighting in earnest, wood clashing. Will found his back against the wall and drew Will in with a feint, placing a light punch to his gut before running into the den and jumping over a couch.

“You coward! My name is--“

“Stop saying that!”

“INIGO MONTOYA! You killed my father! Prepare to die!”

“You've got an overdeveloped sense of vengeance. It's going to get you into trouble someday.” Spike doubled over laughing at the unexpected quote, and Will used his distraction to launch himself over the couch and send them both sprawling to the floor...again. They came together, their ‘swords’ sliding to the hilt.

“My sword’s bigger than yours,” Spike taunted, unable to contain the laughter bubbling in his chest.

“That’s not what ma says,” Will said with a wicked grin.

“One movie at a time, git,” Spike commanded, trying to dislodge Will’s dead weight on top of him.

“Good heavens. Are you still trying to win?” Will asked, pushing himself on his forearms to hover over his gasping brother.

“St-stop with the...the...” Spike dissolved into helpless laughter when Will started tickling him. “Oi! Stoppit!”

“Say Uncle!” Will demanded, his fingers digging into the ticklish spot on his lower ribs.

“Never!” Will suddenly found himself on the receiving end of his own medicine, Spike’s equally talented fingers probing his ticklish ribs. The twins rolled around on the floor, oblivious to the world in their attempts at one-up-manship.

“Wow, if I’d known making dinner was THIS easy, I’d have learned how to a loooooong time ago!” a sarcastic voice cut in. The twins looked up to see Buffy towering over them, her arms crossed over her chest, an amused twinkle in her eye.

“Now luv,” Will said in his best parental voice, “you know it’s a damned good thing horse play has nothing to do with cooking.”

“Yeah, cause it would suck for you to be so bad at messing around,” Spike finished. Will grinned at Buffy’s impersonation of a fish. Two days ago, the twins had come home to a smoking kitchen and Buffy frantically trying to turn of the smoke detector.

“Oi, pet! You make a cute guppy,” Spike snickered. Buffy’s eyes narrowed. Without a word, she walked out of the room and into the kitchen. The twins exchanged a worried glance.

“What I’d do?” Spike asked. Will just shook his head in bafflement. Women and their logic were well beyond him. Buffy chose that moment to return to the room, her hands behind her back.

“Guppy?” she asked Spike pointedly. He gave her a totally unapologetic shrug.

“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em, ducks!” he said with a leer.

“I see.” Spike suddenly felt something cold and wet smack the center of his forehead and slide down his surprised ‘O’ face. Will couldn’t control his laughter as the huge dollop of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food slid down his brother’s face. That was until a large, cold glob found its way on his pristine white work shirt. Then it was Spike’s turn to laugh. Buffy was just congratulating herself on a job well done when two pairs of cerulean blue orbs pinned her to the wall. Her eyes widened as she realized targeting both of them may have been a little bit ambitious.

“That wasn’t very nice, pet,” Will said, his voice a seductive purr to Buffy’s ears. She felt her breath quicken and that uncomfortably familiar ache starting.

“Waste of bloody good ice cream that is,” Spike added, wiping the sticky sweet off his face and...oh GOD, licking it off his fingers. He couldn't possibly know the effect that had on her, those long, slender musicians’ finger, coated with sticky chocolate disappeared...and reappeared...and ugh. She saw Will out of the corner of her eye...taking off his shirt? Her eyes bugged. No. Shirtless roommates were bad badness! Of the incredibly sexy kind!

God, his chest was incredible. He was Adonis come to life, with those pecs and those abs and that lickable chest. No. No, Will didn’t get to exist in the lickable category. He didn’t even get to exist is any category that wasn’t marked platonic. But how could anyone resist perfection...squared?

With a strangled sound, Buffy darted out of the room, slamming her door and quickly locking it. She sat on the bed, her eyes glazed, images of shirtless Spikes and Wills flitting through her head. This was so not good. She stared unseeingly at the carton of ice cream until she decided a little pity party was totally in order.

Spike and Will watched as Buffy sprinted from the room, the sound of her door closing ringing in her ears. They shared a contemplative look before dashing after the blonde. They pounded on the closed door.

“Now pet,” Spike said reasonably, “it’s not fair to start something you can’t finish. Come out here and fight like a man!” Buffy’s head whipped around, ice cream half way to her mouth.

“You better hope I only fight like a man!” she growled at. The nerve of those...boys!

Not boys, that annoying voice that lived in her head piped up. The sound of the Twinlet’s laughter just incensed her further.

“Feisty,” Will said appreciatively, wiggling his eyebrows at Spike. But Spike had that devilish grin on his face that meant he was UP to something. When a hot, warm mouth attached itself to his right nipple, Will got a really good glimpse of what Spike was up to. “Fuck!” he swore softly, glaring down at his impish brother. It did no good, and he was powerless to stop him.

“You had better apologize!” Buffy’s heated voice came through the door. Spike licked a slow, wet rail down Will’s chest, savoring the soft groan that escaped his captive’s lips. “Well?”

“You...you might need to come out here and sh-SHOW”--Spike brushed against the bulge in Will’s dress slacks--“us what it means to fight like a girl,” Will managed to get out through sheer force of will. He belatedly processed footsteps approaching the door, and was still pretty out of it when Spike quickly righted himself, placing his body slightly in between the irate blonde and the cluelessly aroused Will.

“You wanna see how a girl fights? Alright. Tomorrow, 6 P.M., my dojo. I’ll give you a workout you’ll never forget!” And with that, Buffy slammed the door shut and strode back to her tasty ice cream treat, trying to ignore the part of her that was wishing it were something else she was tasting. UGH, she already had a boyfriend, she didn’t need two more!

Spike smirked at the door, thinking Ms. Buffy was going to be in for a little surprise when she sparred with them tomorrow night. He turned to his confused and highly aroused twin.

“In the mean time, how about I give you a workout tonight?” he suggested, pushing lightly against Will's chest, guiding him towards their bedroom. Everyone forgot the simmering tomato sauce until the newly reconnected fire alarm went off for the second time that week.





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