by Diurnal Lee for whyskeyeyes
Spike checked the window in the smaller bedroom before settling himself on the narrow bed. He kept his boots on. From the smell of the house, the inhabitants had been away for at least a few days, but he wanted to be sure of a quick exit, and this room was the only one that looked out on an alley with a sewer grating. Anyway, this would hardly be the first day he'd slept surrounded by dolls.
"Right then," he said, pulling the cellphone out of his coat. "Let's get this over with." It took some experimenting--and more than a bit of cursing--to figure out the menu, but eventually he composed his first message to "Ad Hoc Council" and sent it off.
Is this thing on?
The little screen displayed, Message Sent, and glowed cheerily at him. Definitely Red's doing, then. He scowled at it, hoping to cow or at least moderate its happy glow, but when it dimmed a few minutes later, he suspected it had more to do with an automatic timeout than inanimate fear.
A few minutes after that, he gave up and tucked the thing back into its inside pocket. Of course that was when it chose to nip him with a tiny static jolt, and he fumbled a bit retrieving it.
Message received from AD Hoc Council: he read. this betr b good
Nice welcome. Spike grit his teeth. Well, he hadn't been under any illusions that Buffy's people were desperate for his help. He carefully depressed the keys necessary to send, Really? I thought you lot were more interested in signs of evil.
The reply came much more quickly than he had managed. evil inc., deadboy and this shanshu thing, you bet
Deadboy? Oh, no, Red did NOT give him a magic phone that only talked to--Harris?
in the lightly roasted flesh
She did. Bugger. When the headboard proved to be too well cushioned for a proper skull knocking, Spike hiked himself up high enough to reach the wall. Well, the Watcher said significant events, deals and the like, so I wager he'll want to hear this.
go ahead spike. i'll pass it on
Edited to show Spike in the poorest possible light, no doubt. He grimaced. Well, this was all second hand info, anyway. Captain Forehead and his pet lawyer negotiated a peace treaty between the Vinjis and Sahrvis clans.
ok. & thats news why?
Because it earns them major props in the demon community, you twit. Also heads off an all out war.
nice. anything else, or can i go back 2 my siesta?
Laborious as he found the typing, Spike still gave in to the impulse to add, There was something about improper acts with a camel. My source wasn't too clear. Actually, the lads from Accounts Receivable had given him a surprisingly detailed account, but why spoil a good story with facts?
camel? i hope it spit on him. thats all they r good 4. disney fails me again
Where have you been keeping company with camels, Harris?
egypt. maybe libya. im told we r not lost.
That should be of great comfort to your Council of Scoobies when they mourn your desiccated corpse. Careful of those, by the by. Mummies are nasty buggers.
hey, i'm a mummy vet. i eat mummies for breakfast. im like brendan fraser with i patch instead of suspenders
The resulting mental image surprised Spike into a chuckle. He'd barely begun his reply when the next message came through.
also i have 3 rachel weisz on hand to protect me
You know what they say. Once a Slayer's boy . . .
cute. i hear u were a ghost. bet that really jacked up ur stalking skills
Spike lost his smile. He almost lost his temper, but a fleeting fantasy of trying to replace the enchanted phone down at the nearest wireless shop made him relax his gripping hand. "Best you get back to your nap, Harris. You'll want to look what passes for your best when Ardeth Bay shows up."
Not bothering to restrain his curses, Spike snapped the cell shut and tossed it onto the nearby desk, beside a white plastic rabbit with a clock for a belly.
When he finally checked, two days later, only one message awaited him: hes already here
Having caught on to the idea that he could leave messages without having to talk to the boy, Spike kept it short after that. Xander always responded within the day, usually with an insult or a quick joke, leaving the impression that he was busy but happy, which only served to highlight Spike's aimless feeling. Amusing as it was teasing office gossip out of Wolfram & Hart employees over a game of pool, he was growing heartily sick of the upscale bars they frequented. And he was well aware of how much he must be missing by avoiding Angel's inner circle.
Apparently, so was Xander, as he demonstrated in their second realtime conversation. u havnt seen angel in weeks have u?
Can you blame me? I can hardly stand being in the same city as the ponce.
spike, u r supposed 2 b r inside guy. that means being INSIDE
I'll get there. These things take finesse.
just march in and hit him. please hit him. or kiss and make up. whats 2 finesse?
It's complicated.
lemme guess. u r embarrassed 2 go back because of some boast that didn't pan out
I might have mentioned Buffy on my way out of town.
tuff cookies. u signed on 2 do this thing. time to man up
I'm just waiting for my moment. Keep your shirt on.
and work on my farmers tan? well, if u insist
Talking about men and shirts, how is Ardeth?
Xander's reply took so long coming that Spike almost tucked the phone away. much hotter in person
Oh ho. Turning gay working out for you, then?
hard 2 say. i probably shouldnt b seeing anyone 4 now
That one, at least, Spike understood. Sunnydale was still fresh in his own memory. I heard about your bird. he sent. She was a special lady. She'll be missed.
yeah. she went out a hero 2. just like she never wanted.
By unspoken agreement, they both paused, giving the moment to Anya.
n e way we left ardeth in algeria with his sister. she had some slayer dreams they wanted 2 check out and i had 2 get 2 sierra leone
If he's Rachel Weisz' brother, wouldn't that make him John Hannah?
o no. definitely ardeth bay. think tattoos in interesting places. and on that note i have 2 c a man about a hor'krath
Look out for the thin, darker tentacle. The stinger's on the tip.
Tattoos in interesting places. Christ. Either the boy was taking a joke too far--and it would hardly be the first time--or he really was looking at life differently.
Spike headed straight for the nearest strip club, focussing on tits and ass until he nearly had himself convinced that he was just gearing up to walk back into the corporate heart of darkness. Then Doyle showed up with his visions and his intensity and his tats hanging out all over the place.
Bugger.
New player in town, urban cowboy by the name of Doyle, set me up with a flat and idiots to save. Seems he's responsible for bringing me back. Talks a good line about Shanshu and visions from the Powers that Be Boring. Your lot heard anything about him?
Couple of Angel's chief lackeys tried to recruit me behind his back, and I saved the king himself from a one way trip to dreamland. Told you I was waiting for my moment.
The ponce just had Lucian Drake assassinated. Bloke was a warlock and evil as they come, but it strikes me as a dodgy move for the side of puppies and rainbows.
He chose a wooded park to place the call. It was the only way to be sure of some kind of privacy. His new place was a lot like the old one in Sunnydale, everyone and their sister feeling free to waltz in without so much as a by-your-leave. Red's glamour might be designed to make texting appear innocuous, but he was pretty sure it wasn't up to concealing a vocal conversation. And given the uncertain loyalties of anyone who might be likely to walk in on him, he couldn't risk being overheard.
Not that Spike was worried. Mildly concerned, maybe. Lot going on the last few days, changing his world around, and it had him feeling untethered. He kept expecting a sarcastic comment to anchor him back in reality, but it never came. For the first time since they started this spying business, Xander had gone quiet.
He thumbed the phone's keypad, pulling up his contacts. There were only two listed, the same two that had come loaded in its memory. Weeks of fiddling about with the thing had proven that he could neither alter them, nor add new ones. Bloody witch and her tamper-proof mojo, he thought, as he arrowed the cursor past "Ad Hoc Council" to highlight "Emergencies".
Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe not. Any road, it was out of character for the boy to miss so many prime opportunities to mock him, and somebody ought to know.
Having worked himself up to talk to one of the Scoobies, he was a bit disappointed to have an unfamiliar girl answer with, "Slayer central. What's your damage?"
"Yeah, need to talk to Willow or Giles."
"No dice, sugar, they're not around. But I can get a message to--"
"Well, you tell them that Xander's been out of touch for a few, and I'm worried that--Er, that is, I'm annoyed. Yes. Very annoyed. If nobody can be bothered to take my reports, I can bloody well find something more amusing to do with my time."
"And you are?"
"Spike."
"Cool. Okay, so: Spike, Xander, annoyed, reports. Anything else?"
"Sierra Leone, and something about a hor'krath beast. Three days ago. You tell them it's been three days!"
He hung up before he embarrassed himself any further, and went looking for something to kill.
The following night, Spike folded with queens over eights when the phone went off. The door was still swinging shut behind him when he checked the new text.
so i hear i annoyed u
If he chuckled more in relief than amusement, there were none but the rats to hear it. On a regular basis. Key word: regular.
u sure r high maintenance
Wanker. What happened?
turns out there was a whole nest of hor'krath
And you got yourself stung.
& we all got stung. lucky the girls took out the last 1 before the venom kicked in, or we'd be lunch
Nasty stuff. Enough to paralyse a Fyarl for days.
large with the unfun. also the dying of exposure. u saved r bacon, spike. nobody else noticed we went missing
Can't imagine why. You're too annoying to miss.
right back atcha. & on topic of coming back u think this Doyle guy is 4 real?
Spike smiled to himself as he settled in for a good exchange of mocking. They may not like each other much, but he was pretty sure that Xander--unlike certain parties who missed him driving around town under their noses for weeks in their own lojacked car--Xander would notice if he went missing.
And that was no small thing.
- End -