DISCLAIMER: Strange as it may seem, I don't own Buffy, or Spike for that matter, I don't even own their little friends. That honour goes to that guy who has that company with the funny name, what was it again? It's on the tip of my tongue, I tell you…
Oh yeah, it's… No, it's gone again…
I 'd bet ya Freud would have something to say about this…
Hold on a minute while I go check…
Just pressing the rewind button here…
Right, there are the credits…
Music by… No, that's not it…
Key grip (what the hell is a key grip anyway)…
Make-up artist…
Ah, here we go (drum roll please). Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel both belong to…
Damn, I've run out of ink.
HOW TO GET AHEAD IN THE OTHERWORLD – By jinxed_wood.
PART ONE
It was strange really, like that time he and Dru had snacked on those hippy students back in the early seventies in New York. They should have known better, he supposed, anyone who would take a shortcut through Central Park at 2 a.m. in the morning, had to be tripping. It had been a wonderful night though; a real bloody Technicolor vision of a strange world. He had watched in awe as Dru giggled in delight, running through the trees in search of something to play with. She found it, eventually, and what was supposed to have been a quick bite before they went home, suddenly turned into a full-blown bloodbath in Central Park.
LSD and Vampires put together are always guaranteed to see the world coloured in red, with pretty little entrails decorating the duck pond. It had been that, more than anything else, that made that slayer, Nikki, come looking for him. Can't have the naughty Vampires polluting the water now, can we? The memory made him wince, there was that nasty soul again, making him suffer.
He dragged his mind back from where it had wandered and stared at his hand again. He had been 'sitting' there for at least half an hour staring at it, or, to be more exact, staring through it, the world through a flesh tinted haze this time, not blood. The whole experience was surreal, here he was, sitting in Fred's lab – except he wasn't, was he? In order to sit, he'd have to have a body to sit down with, not just a sketchy appearance of one. He was a mind without a body, floating in and out of reality. Is this what that bloke meant when he talked about an existential crisis? And speaking of entrails, if his skin was transparent now, then why can't he see his insides, Dru would have loved that.
"Oh Spikey, my luv, look how you're insides quiver and glisten"
He smirked, imagining Dru poking her finger through him and wiggling it around. She'd have probably done one of her little dances as well, she always did that when she was excited.
A movement caught the corner of his eye, and Spike raised his hand to observe Fred through his palm, there was a slight distortion, as if the light knew something was there. It was sort of comforting.
"Spike? Spike, are you alright? Its just that you keep waving that hand about as if there is something there - there isn't, is there?" Fred asked nervously, as she eyed the room.
"Just my own twisted imagination, luv. Don't worry about it," he said, dropping his hand hurriedly. No need to look like more of a ponce than he actually was. "So, how is the… the… experiment going?"
"Not very well, I'm afraid. I'm trying to factor in the time differentiation to my equation," she said worriedly. "Trying to amalgamate the dead you, with an undead you from another dimension and time, so that you can have a body again, is a lot harder than it sounds," she chattered
"Well, I don't know, luv. I was never under the impression it was going to be easy in the first place," he replied easily. "What with that whole quantum thing and all."
She was pretty when she worried, he thought, as he studied the expression on her face; she had this whole cute way of going on and on. It kind of reminded him of Drusilla, her hair kind of looked like Dru's too, what with the slight curl and all. Very nice indeed, and not at all like the other one, this one was safe, wasn't going to remind him of his broken heart.
"Oh, you shouldn't worry," she nattered on, oblivious to Spikes thoughts. "We'll get the kinks sorted out, there's no chance that you'll end up like that pumpkin this morning."
"Eh?" Spikes ears perked up as he caught the end of the sentence. "What's that about a pumpkin?"
"Oh, it's nothing, really," assured a flustered Fred.
"No harm in telling me then, is there?" Spike asked, his suspicions raised.
"Well… you know I was telling you about that whole time differentiation problem?"
"Whatever luv, go on…"
"Well…we performed the test and… and…"
"Come on pet, I don't bite…well… not anymore, anyway,"
Fred looked at him uncertainly, but carried on. "Everything went fine until we tried to pull it into phase with it's counterpart in the other dimension, but then, everything got kind of twisted and the pumpkin ended up a sort of… overripe."
"How overripe are we talking about here, Pet?"
" The smelly, mushy kind of overripe," she haltingly admitted, dropping her gaze.
"I see, so I'm guessing that doesn't bode too well for me, then," Spike said sarcastically as he jumped off the seat and started pacing the room.
"We'll fix it," Fred promised as she dogged his steps. "It'll work, wait 'til you see."
"You're damned right I'll wait, being transparent is one thing, being mushy is another thing all together – and will you stop doing that!" he shouted as he turned and glared at her"
"Stop what?" she squeaked
"Stop shadowing me around the room, it's disturbing!"
"Oops, sorry," she apologised, eyeing him fearfully as she retreated behind her desk.
Spike looked at her in exasperation and decided to leave before things got ugly. She may have pretty hair, but the girl was obviously a bit too fond of Mary Shelley's literature, and he wasn't looking to be Frankenstein's pet.
"I'm out of here," he muttered, disappearing through a wall before she could protest.
Ten minutes later, he was still wandering through the halls of Wolfram and Hart. In the old days it was simpler – feeling a little bit down? That's okay, just go and find something to beat up, put you in a right good mood in no time – nowadays he'd count himself lucky if he could push over a paper bag.
Cursing under his breath, he made for the one room in the building where he was guaranteed some sort of violence, even if it was just the verbal kind – Angel's office.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Oh for crying out loud, I told you to stop doing that" Angel roared, leaping out of his chair as Spike popped out of the wall behind him.
"You don't say" Spike drawled, sprawling across the desk. "I wonder why I keep doing it, then?"
"Will you get off to the bloody desk? I've work to do, you know."
"Oh yeah, being Wolfram and Hart's new patsy must involve a hell of a lot of paperwork," Spike fired back gleefully. This was more like it, almost as good as a well aimed sucker punch. He could practically hear Angel counting to ten in his head. He'd say this for him, he wasn't as easy to goad as he used to be. He must have picked up some patience since he moved to L.A., or maybe he'd just gone soft. Spike decided to share this new revelation with his grandsire.
"That's it, you're dead!" Angel exploded. "I've had as much as I can take of you, boy."
"I hate to break it to you, but I've been dead for quite a few months now, Peaches"
Spike could almost see the light bulb go on over his head, as Angels face lit up in understanding. "That's what this is about, isn't it? Even you're not normally this irritating. Trying to pick a fight so to alleviate some of your tension, are you, my boy?"
Shit, he had sussed it. "Who… me…don't know what you're talking about mate, just passing through," this was one of the times when he really wished he were a better liar, he'd give his eye-teeth to say something suave and believable at this very moment.
"Oh, is poor Spikey feeling all depressed?"
Could have been worse, Spike supposed, he could have been all consideration and support. He shuddered at the thought, no need to go borrowing trouble. "What is this, you trying to perfect your Harmony impersonation or something? 'Cause I've got to tell you, it was looking pretty good to begin with - what with the hair gel and all"
But Angel wasn't about to allow himself be distracted, not until he had a little fun first. "Oh but Spikey, I think we should talk about this," he said, a shit eating grin plastered all over his face. "We can't have you feeling all down now, can we? Maybe we should give you something to occupy your time, I know, how about a job?"
"Right then, I'm off ," Spike muttered as he made for the nearest wall.
"What, you're not going to wait and hear what I'm about to offer you?"
For a split second, curiosity got the better of him. "Make it snappy, then"
"Well, as it happens I've got a job that's perfect for your unique abilities."
"You don't say."
"Oh, but I do say!"
Spike rolled his eyes as he spun around. "Get on with it, then, you old sod… I've got things to do, you know."
Angel decided to let that one slide, he didn't want the fish to wriggle off his hook that easily. "I want you to do a bit of reconnaissance work for me…"
Spike had to admit it, his curiosity was peaked, "Go on then, enlighten me."
"Basically, I want you to spy on my employees."
Now that he wasn't expecting. "You're having me on, mate!"
"I'm not talking about the ones I brought with me from 'Angel Investigations'," Angel explained hurriedly. "Just the ones I inherited from Wolfram and Hart."
"Looking for the rotten apples, eh?"
I don't think any of them are too fresh from the tree," Angel said wryly. "But I want to make sure that none of them are actively working against me, yes"
"And you only just thought of this now," Spike asked suspiciously. "Pull the other one, mate. I hear it's got bells on"
"Well… it's nothing really concrete," Angel admitted. "But I've noticed that some of the orders I've given in the last week seemed to have gotten lost along the way."
"That's all? Hate to break it to you, peaches, but that is pretty much a given in this kind of place."
"I know that! It's just that they've also seemed to have mislaid a couple of documents I wanted to study," Angel explained
"What kind of documents are we talking about here?"
"Oh, you know, the usual, a couple of prophecies..."
"Aw well, that's all right then, we can all go home – what do you mean a couple of prophecies!" Spike yelled. "That sounds pretty fucking concrete to me, mate. A prophecy means only one thing as far as I've seen - it's another bloody apocalypse, isn't it?
"Well…"
"Go on, tell me I'm wrong, I dare ya!"
"You're not wrong" Angel admitted, flopping back into his chair with a groan. "Fire and brimstone, the pits of hell opening, the whole sky caving in, the full package. There, are you happy?"
"It's not fair," Spike whined. "We only just had one, isn't there some kind of rule? Only one apocalypse per year or something like that.
"That only applies in Sunnydale," replied Angel, with a flash of humour. " Buffy always used to complain about that, she couldn't figure out why someone would always try to end the world in the middle of her finals.
Both Vampires smirked.
"Yeah, that would be her, alright," Spike said wistfully.
"I could give her a call, " Angel suggested gently. "I know she'd be thrilled to know that you're here, she was really cut up when she thought you didn't make it."
"That's just the thing, mate, I didn't make it, I'm bloody dead aren't I"
"You were dead before, too," Angel pointed out. "She didn't seem to mind it then."
"That was different."
"How so."
"It just was."
"You don't give Buffy enough credit, Spike. She'd be glad to see you if you showed up in a tutu and wearing heels."
"I wouldn't go that far, mate, even the slayer has her limits.
"Okay then, I'll drop the subject," Angel conceded. "So, will you do it?"
"Do what? Oh yeah, I suppose so, I've nothing else to be doing after all."
"Right then, welcome to Wolfram and Hart, you're now officially in my employ."
"I'm what? Oy, I'm not one of your bleeding lackeys!"
"Look on the bright side, there's a pay check in it for you,"
"And what does a bloody ghost do with a pay check?" demanded Spike
"Save?"
"Har har bloody har…"
TBC…
P.S. Mutant Enemy… Buffy belongs to Mutant Enemy… I'm right, aren't I? Hello?