Spike lounged in Angel's office, on the very edge of brooding. If only he could get pissed good and proper so that he didn't have to think of *anything*. Unfortunately he didn't have any money, and also couldn't find Angel's liquor stash.
He groaned in frustration, and was caught by surprise when the door was opened slightly and Wesley poked his head in. "Perhaps you need some assistance?"
Wesley didn't wait for a reply, instead walked over to the plasma television and flicked a switch. A wall panel slid open, revealing several bottles.
Wesley smiled. "Time to get sloshed, wouldn't you say?"