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"Xander..." said a familiar voice on the other side of the hot tub.
"No. I am not swimming over there. I'll drown! You're the one who doesn't have to breathe. You... ford the Leander or whatever."
There was chuckling. Spike would try to claim that it was allergies to the bubbles or whatever, but it was totally chuckling. "Leander was a bloke; I think you're wanting me to ford the Hellespont. Which this isn't, it's just a bloody hot tub. Unless you want me to ford another bloke?"
"I dunno -- is he hot?"
"He's dead."
Certain obvious rejoinders were beneath Xander. "Then he won't mind if you ford him and get your tail over here."
"But I'm comfortable where I am! I'd just be more comfy if you were over here giving me a blowjob."
Xander sneered. "Sure, you'd be comfy, and I'd be drowning. Not a vampire yet, remember? That's if I don't -- I mean didn't -- drown on the way over, anyway."
"It's not the fucking Hellespont!" Spike retorted. "What, you think there's going to be a typhoon in Angel's hot tub?"
"Could be," Xander said stubbornly. "It's a big hot tub. Do you really want a blowjob so bad you're willing to risk your husband's life for it?"
"Oh, for God's sake, Xander, you're amphibious! Now get your arse over here and blow me!" Spike splashed the water with his tail.
"And they say romance is dead."