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| Sooner or Later |
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| "Wait a minute. She doesn't know you're alive, does she?" "I don't think so. I mean...I don't know. Does she?" "No. N-no. She can't. I mean... I--I would've hear about it. We would've had a conference call...Why haven't you told her?" " 'Hello, Buffy. It's Spike. I didn't burn up like you thought. How are things?' " "Uh...do you want me to tell her? 'Cause I -- I'm really good with those...uh, delicate personal--" "No. Don't tell her. I'll take care of it." "Got it. You're a loner...playin' it cucumber, as in 'cool as a...' " "Just keep your mouth shut." ~ / ~ Ever since he'd be re-corporealized, he'd been turning the question over in his mind, as to how and when and where to contact Buffy. He'd come pretty close to getting on that boat, and just going to her. But the more he thought about it.... The trouble wasn't so much his fear that the real thing wouldn't live up to the scenarios he'd worked out in his imagination -- but that he couldn't even conceive a picture of how it might go. And he had a pretty good imagination. After all, he could barely believe it and it was all happening to him! So, he'd decided to just let things ride for a bit; not precipitate anything. Put her out of his mind, as best he could. Riiiight, just put her right out of your mind -- like giving a cat the boot before bedtime. Sure.... He knew he could just as easily reverse the earth's rotation. She'd never be out of his mind, not if he lived a millennium. But now, one of the Scooby circle knew that he was back. Eventually, Andrew was bound to blurt it out. He probably wouldn't mean to, he'd just start going on about how gallantly he'd engineered Dana's retrieval, and before he knew it, he'd be recounting details of Spike's presence and involvement in the whole episode, and possibly the disgustingness of his de-- ...handification(?). Is there a word for that? Probably not. Hell, the boy'd probably claim he'd been the one to put Spike back together! Bugger! He'd have to decide something sooner or later...but not today. ~ / ~ Dear Buffy, He sat hunched over the table in the kitchen of the place he slept. He couldn't really think of it as his apartment. Too much odd about that Doyle bloke to trust the whole setup. He was still considering the roof as temporary. And, he was having no luck coming up with what to write. How's Rome these days? Remember to throw your pence in Trevi Fountain? Oh, by the way, I'm available to have a go at the Eurovamps, if you'll have me? He wadded the page up and sidearmed it into the far corner of what passed for a sitting room. Sooner or later...but not today. ~ / ~ It had seemed like a simple enough task. Wait for sundown, find a payphone, ask for help, talk to Buffy. Done. After a bit of looking, he'd found a much grafitti-ed phone mounted outside of a run-down convenience store. He checked the coin return for spare change (there was none), draped his arm across the top, leaned against the side, crossed one leg in front of the other in a pretense of nonchalance, grabbed the handset, and dialed "0". After a long pause, an excessively cheerful voice chirped in his ear, "Dialcom operator, how may I help you?" "Yeh, I'd like to make a long distance call." "Thank you, sir. If you give me the area code and telephone number, I can put the call through, and tell you how many coins to deposit." "Well, thing is, I don't know the number. You'll need to find it for me." "I'm sorry, sir, I'm the operator for the pay telephone company that owns the unit you are using. I'm not able to provide directory assistance services. If you call 1+the area code you're trying to reach+555-1212, long distance information can look up your number." "But I don't know the area code. Can you at least tell me that?" "I can do that, sir. Please tell me the city and state?" "Rome." "Is that Rome, New York, sir?" "No, Rome, like where the bloody Pope lives!" "Rome, Italy, sir?" |
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| This story nominated at: |
| Rating: PG-13 Award Winner: Setting/Spoilers: Post-Damage (AtS 5.11) Summary: Spike doesn't figure Andrew can keep his secret, but can't seem to do anything about it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ |
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