An Angel (Season 5) crossover with Coupling (post Jeff's departure from the show). What if Jeff was transferred to L.A., California, from his job in London. There, he meets Spike and they talk and share thoughts. Can Jeff get a date? Will Spike influence Jeff? And vice versa? All those answers and more in the story. In essence, Spike and Jeff meet and humor ensues.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story.
Rated T for some language.
Please feel free to leave reviews, whether they are complimentary or critical. Thanks!
--
"Sorry," the two men spoke, simultaneously.
"It's okay. Don't worry about it."
"The pub is quite crowded tonight, isn't it?"
"Yep, it certainly is." Spike nodded. "Are you here with anybody?"
"No. Just me. I'm new to this country."
"Oh yeah? Sit down; we'll get a few drinks. You can tell me all about what you've learned about the U.S. of A. so far."
"Alright, thanks." Jeff took the seat across from Spike. "I'm Jeff."
"Hi. What part of England are you from?"
"London. Heh…In fact, if you ever go there, I think they have my picture on the Hall of Fame for all the stupid things I've done. You might want to look me up."
"What sort of stupid things have you done, exactly?"
"Just things, mostly involving women. I really can't go up to them and just talk like a normal human being. I always screw things up in the most ridiculous ways." Jeff took a quick sip of his drink and continued. "Like, once, for example, I met a gorgeous woman on the train. I started talking to her and somewhere along the line I started talking about legs because I was nervous. She started looking at me bizarrely and I told her I was talking about legs because it was on my mind… and the reason it was on my mind was because I had only one leg. The other, I told her, was amputated. It was a complete lie, of course, but she believed me. We started going out, somehow, and she gave me the key to her flat and offered to sleep with me. And I couldn't … for obvious reasons. Coincidently, my friend's date was a surgeon, or so I thought. And so I went up to the guy and I wanted him to take my leg. I believe my exact words were 'I've got the key to the gates of paradise, but I've got too many legs.'"
"Are you serious!" Laughter erupted from Spike's lips.
"Unfortunately, yes. And that's not even the worst one yet."
"There was another time," Jeff began. "that I mistakenly took a Hebrew word to be the woman's name. Shaydiam. I'll never forget the word. When she was about to leave the country, going back home, I went to the airport and shouted 'shaydiam! shaydiam!'. Needless to say, the police arrested me. Want to take a guess at what 'shaydiam' means?"
"I haven't a clue. Don't speak Hebrew."
"Breasts."
And the laughter continued as it echoed through the noisy bar.
Jeff carried on through his Memory Lane journey and so he kept telling stories. "Once, a woman I really fancied led me to believe we were going to have sex. I was incredibly excited as you could imagine. She put me in a room, blindfolded, and she said she was going to return in a little while. And in the excited state that I was, I started … well, I started stripping… and singing."
Spike cut in. "Oh, I bet she never left the room, did she? She saw your entire show and she was turned off by it?"
"No, she liked the…" Jeff began, uncomfortably "performance. The problem was that she wasn't my only viewer."
"Oh, Jeffrey! Tell me it isn't true."
"It was a surprise birthday party for me. All my friends and colleagues were there… just watching me sing and remove my clothes. And then the absolute worst part was when my mother entered the room and I heard her say, in the same disappointing tone she always used with me, 'Oh, Jeffrey'. It was terrifying. Oh, and did I mention when I was a kid and I'd tell little lies my mother would threaten to harm, um, Junior. I would always check in the morning."
"What? Really? That is simply sickening. I'm telling you, the crazy Nazi doctors didn't even do that. And I should know. Well, don't feel so bad. My mum was a nutcase, too. Nothing compared with yours, but she did try to come on to me. So then I had to kill her and all."
"Huh?"
"No. Nothing. Nevermind," Spike swiftly waves his hand in the air, indicating the dismissal of the topic. "Boy, you really do have bad luck with women, don't you. I've never really seen a case like this before."
"Yeah. Bad luck. That's one way of putting it. Although, I tend to think that my unsuccessful attempts with women might be because of my 'theories', as Steve liked to say. Even though, I think they're all true."
"Theories? Care to explain?"
"Well, to name a few: the Giggle Loop, the Nudity Buffer, and the Sock Gap."
"Okay, let's start from the top, shall we? What's the Giggle Loop?"
"Well, you know, interesting thing about the Giggle Loop is that it slowly builds up, in order to destroy your nerves. During a minute's silence at a funeral, you'll suddenly get this thought in your head to laugh; it's pretty much natural, because of all the stillness. But you don't, of course, you hold your own. And then you think how awful it'd been if you had laugh. And so you want to do it again, and bigger. And yet, you remain calm. And the following steps repeat themselves, only increasing each time. The laugh, at this point, becomes uncontrollable. You're just vibrating in the middle of the room, trying to withhold your laughter. Until, inevitably, you explode, looking like a complete idiot."
"Alright, makes sense, actually. What about the 'Nudity Buffer?'"
Jeff proceeds to explain the Nudity Buffer theory.
"Now the Sock Gap," Jeff starts again "is very important. When you're going to have sex, it is an absolute must to remove your socks before any other clothing item; because if you don't take them off first, you'll forget about them. And then you're just a naked man in socks. And 'no self-respecting woman will ever let a naked man in socks do the squelchy with her'."
"As good of advice as that is, it's not a problem for me. I don't wear socks."
"Why not?" Jeff questions.
"The shoe is already a form of confinement. Why, on God's green earth, do we need the damn socks too?" Spike complained.
"Valid point," He drinks. "Well, those are the gist of my theories, basically. Well, everything minus the Melty Man, but he's all too real." Jeff shudders.
"The Melty Man?" Spike was intrigued.
"Do you really want to know about the Melty Man? Can you handle him?"
"Yeah, I mean – yes, of course, tell me!"
"Come 'ere"
"What? Why?" Spike sighs, "Alright."
A few minutes passed and the two men remained completely silent in the vociferous bar. "Is that really what happens? You're not just pulling my chain, are you?" Spike questioned, unable to believe.
"Yes. Think of it this way – if I could lie to you about anything – why, why, would it be this? I mean, this is atrocious. And I should know, for I have long been a captive of the Melty Man."
"Well, I've lived longer than you and I know about these things," Spike began "I don't believe a word of what you said."
"Ah… but one day you shall. Mark my words. It's all women's faults, anyhow."
"Yeah, I know where you're coming from. I've had more of my share with the bitches in my life. They are complete waste of time, I'm telling you. And if they didn't have that one secret – sex – against us, I wouldn't bother with 'em." Spike said.
"I made that mistake a few times, you know. It takes me years to get over the consequences." Spike revealed.
"Hmm… what mistake?"
"The mistake of falling in love. I remember the first time it happened. It was a very long time ago. It seems as it were yesterday though. I was so naïve. I wrote poems for this girl. Can you believe it? Me! Poems! And you know what she told me? She told me, and I quote, 'You're beneath me'. Not only do I pour my bleedin' heart out to this woman, she tells me I'm not good 'nough for her." Spike snickers. "Bitch…"
"Ouch… that must've hurt. I mean I've had my share of problems with women but no one's ever told me I'm not good enough. Here, mate. Have another drink." Jeff offered.
"Thanks… I think."
Well, Spike thought, He's told me all his relationships problems… I might as well tell him all of mine. Why the hell not?
"Then after that girl whose name was Cecily," Spike cleared his throat "there was a woman, that I loved more than life itself, literally. Drusilla. She changed me. She took all the hurt that Cecily caused and dissolved it. And we had a really good thing going for centuries…" Spike saw Jeff's confusion. "Um, I meant, it felt like centuries because it felt like we were supposed to be together always, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it."
"And then things started getting rocky when an old acquaintance or ours showed up, Angelus – the bastard, and she just followed him around like a bloody puppet. Paid no attention to me whatsoever! And then I made a deal with Buffy, uh, Angelus' ex, right. And I told her she better get him away from me and Dru 'cause I didn't like the way things were when he was around. And so Buffy took care of him and I took Dru and moved to Brazil. We were there and I was out, ya know, looking for dinner. I came back only to find her making out with some disgusting creature."
"Yeah yeah… men: the disgustoids in human form. I know the type."
"Right. She tells me I've changed since I made a deal with Buffy. But I try to explain that I did it for us; in order for us to be happy. She keeps going behind my back though so, finally, I say to her 'I'm not putting up with this any more'. And she says 'Fine!' And I say 'Fine!' And the next thing I knew, we were broken up. I mean, I thought it was just a little fight and we'd make up. It took me a year to get over her."
"Oh, that's wrong. Women, eh! That's what happened to me with a woman named Julia. Everything was going great, I mean, absolutely brilliant. And then this old boyfriend of hers who was in the army all this time comes back. Then she tells me she guesses she never completely got over him and leaves me to go back to him!"
"They are completely evil, aren't they?"
Jeff nods in agreement while sipping, once again, his beer.
"And now for the last one. She was probably the worst. It started as a complete obsession with Buffy. I just wanted her. I couldn't explain why… I just needed to have her. It was an absolute fixation. I mean, I got a soul for her."
"What do you mean by got a soul?"
"She let me have her but she never loved me, though. Her heart belonged to someone else, all along. The last time I ever saw her, I did something really brave and then, it was then, she said she loved me. But I didn't believe her. We went our separate ways then. After awhile I thought about going back to her. Then I figured that I couldn't. I mean the last time she saw me I was a hero. I can't just go back to her the way that I am now. To her, I was worth more dead than alive."
"Oh, come on, I'm sure that's not true."
"It is. Look, it's complicated."
"Well, it looks as though I'm not the only one who has these problems with women. I guess it's just the female species itself then, right?" Jeff said.
"That's right. That's my excuse." He smiled. "Hey, can I ask you somethin'? When was the last time you got lucky, as in lucky, lucky?"
"Would you like me to state that response in a form a months or years?"
"No, seriously. It can't be that bad." Spike chuckles.
"It is. There was Julia, a few months ago. She's gone now, though. Off to her little personal army man she went. Well, ever since then I came to America and I've been focusing on my job."
"Okay," Spike says, "Here's the deal. I'll tell you what your problem is… you're too nervous. Straight away, I can tell you your mother is to blame for that."
"Yeah, I knew that too." He nods and drinks a bit.
"Picking up women is a like a game. All you got to do is make the right moves. Slip in a few compliments, sweet-talk her, you know, the whole nine yards."
"Easier said than done." Jeff said.
"Not necessarily. You see that woman there at the bar. The one on the second seat drinking the Bloody Mary, she's been eyeing you the entire time. Go up to her, talk to her, and ask her for her phone number. It's as simple as that."
Jeff's leg immediately began shaking. "No… I can't. What you're proposing… it's a job for James Bond. I'm not capable of it."
"It's not a job for James Bond. Any nitwit can do it. Now go do it."
Still hesitant, Jeff wondered, "Well, what if she was really looking at you the whole time. What if she's interested in you?"
"She isn't, alright?" Spike reassured.
"But if she is?"
"Okay, if she is …" Spike pauses "tell her I don't swing that way."
"You really think she'll believe you're gay?"
"Just go approach, Jeff." He yells. "Trust me. You'll live through it."
"That's what I'm afraid of. Okay, well I'm going. Thanks a lot. You know what you are; you're like my own personal English Fonzie."
Sticking his thumbs out, as he often does, Spike shouts, "Aye…."
Jeff rises from his chair when, suddenly, Spike instantly grabs his wrist.
"And remember," Spike warns, "don't let the Nudity Buffer, and the Sock Gap, and the one legged incident, or the Melt –"
"No, no, no! Don't say it!"
"Alright," Spike frowns, "M & M intimidate you."
Jeff breathes deeply. "Right. Okay. Thanks." He moves toward the bar, and looks back at Spike, uneasily. Spike gives him two thumbs up, to humor him.
"Hi," Jeff began as he approached the woman.
"Hello," the woman replied, very slowly and with a smile.
"Um… I'm Jeff and this might be very presumptuous of me but I thought you watching me before at that table," he aimlessly waved his hand toward the little round table his new chum was still sitting at.
"I'm Linda and you're right 100 . I find you very attractive and I was keeping my eye on you this whole time." She smiled again.
"Really?" Jeff was stunned. "All this time, I took you for cross-eyed." Jeff grimaced as he thought, Oh God no… did I really just say that?
"Excuse me! I really don't understand –" Linda said, exasperated.
"Um… heh… eck, I only meant…" he stuttered.
"What did you mean? Exactly?" she hissed, her voice expressing anger.
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE TABLE…
Oh Bloody Hell! Spike thought. His mind screamed, What is this idiot doing? Thanks to his supersonic vampiric hearing, he was secretly listening to Jeff's conversation with the girl. Why would anyone ever tell someone they look cross-eyed? Oh bollocks, I can't listen to this anymore. It's too depressing. Okay, I know! I'll sing a song in my head in order to distract me from listening any further. 'She fuckin' hates me. La la la la…' Hey, what do y'know; it's the story of my life in two lines of a song. And so Spike continued with his tune while Jeff was facing yet another woman dilemma.
"I only said what I said because I thought that while you were looking at me, you were interested in my friend there." Jeff tried, pathetically, to explain as he nervously pointed in Spike's direction. Linda looked as well.
"Oh, no. I don't want him. I'm not into blondes. I like brunettes," she said, very flirtly-like, as she touched one of Jeff's curly locks.
"Well, I'm sure he could change it to brown if you really – Oh…" Jeff stopped; suddenly realizing this woman actually liked him.
"Listen, Jeff. I like you a lot. Or as they'd say in Britain, 'fancy', is that right?"
"Yeah … great." He shakily smiled.
"I'll tell you what. Here's my number and you give me a call whenever you can and we'll make arrangements to see each then." She pulled out a small piece of paper out of her purse and handed it to Jeff.
"Okay. I will… give you a ring, that is."
"Bye then. I hope to see you soon."
"Heh… Bye." Jeff weakly twitched his fingers.
Jeff released a huge breath of relief as he made his way back to his table.
"So… how'd it go?" Spike asked before Jeff could even sit down.
Jeff laughed and responded, "Good. Very Good. I got her number."
"See, it's not as hard as you thought it'd be, is it?" Spike said, while chugging some more of his drink down.
"Huh… isn't that interesting?"
"What?" Spike pondered.
"Nothing. Just have a peek at her number there." He handed the paper over.
As soon as he read the number, Spike released this immense laugh. "666! The words 'feisty' and 'spank' come to mind, eh." He imitated a whip. "Also, did you know that Linda means 'serpent'."
Jeff grabbed the paper back and added, "If only I should be so lucky to experience what you just said!" And the two men laughed.
"Well, see now," Spike began "It's a good thing you got that date so you have to be one of those losers on all those reality series. Although I do think you'd make a wonderful replica of Joe Millionare."
"Who's Joe Millionare?"
"Oh, that's right. You're new to the states. It was this damned reality show in which women around the bloody world wanted to come marry this complete git just because they all thought he was rich, which, of course, he wasn't. All these reality are so distasteful. Do you have them in Britain?"
"Yeah, they were all over the place. Frankly, they always seemed to me pointless. Like any of that would actually happen."
"Yeah – exactly! All those singers were horrible in 'American Idol' or as I called it, 'American I-dull'. They were all bleedin' dreadful. I can sing better than that!" he drank again.
"Oh yeah? Let's hear it? C'mon?" Jeff pressured.
"I'm not that drunk, Jeffrey," They both laughed and drank, unknowingly, becoming the best of friends.
An hour or so passed and it was getting very late. Realizing the sudden time, Jeff said, "I've got be going now. I think it's past midnight."
"Yeah, I suppose it is."
Pulling money out of his wallet, Jeff heard Spike say, "Hey, don't worry about it, mate. I got it covered for both of our drinks."
"Okay, thanks." Jeff stood, "Well, nice meeting you – ehem – I'm sorry but I don't think you ever mentioned your name."
"Oh – it's Spike here. It's, uh, just a nickname. A very old nickname."
"Ah. Well, thanks for the drinks, Spike. I'll see you around. Bye."
"Bye. Oh, and good luck on your date. Don't screw it up again, will ya."
"Right, of course… I'll really try my best not to."
"You know what, Jeff" Spike smirks, "I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
A FEW NIGHTS LATER
JEFF'S FLAT
"Hello?" a groggy voice was heard over the other end of the phone.
"Hello? Steve? It's me."
"Jeff? What the hell is wrong with you! Do you realize what time it is here?"
"Yeah. I know and I'm sorry. But this is major, big news." Jeff secretly smiled.
"What kind of big news? Something's not wrong, is it?" Steve said as his tone slowly turned into one of concern.
"No! Not at'all!" Jeff giggled and squirmed. "It's bloody brilliant news actually. Alright here goes…" he breathed. "I just had sex!"
"Okay and… You've had sex before, you know. Plenty of times." Steve replied.
"No, Steve. I meant I just had sex with another person." Jeff pointed out.
"Wow! This is big, impressive news. Well, I'm glad you decided to accept homosexuality as your sexual preference. And don't think we'll think any less of you either –" Steve started to say.
"Listen very carefully, Steve. I, Jeff Murdock, just had sex with an American woman," he emphasized.
"Noooo…" his voice revealing shock.
"Yes." Jeff reassured.
"But how? How did you overcome the Nudity Buffer? And what about the Sock Gap? The Melt –" Steve looked over to his right to find Susan peacefully sleeping. "The you know who?" he finished.
"The most amazing thing happened. I met this bloke, this ordinary bloke, and he just told me to ignore all my, uh," he paused to search for the right word. "obstacles."
"But Jeff, that's what I've been telling you for years. You never listened to me."
"Yes, Steve, I know." Jeff replied.
"Well, what made this guy any different from me?"
"Believe it or not, I think it was his black leather duster. I had faith in his words because of his coat; it was very Fonzie-like, y'know."
WOLFRAM AND HART'S
"Like, who the hell is Fonzie?" Harmony questioned, as she placed a strip of hair behind her ear.
"He's this 1950s character from a show called 'Happy Days'. He wore a leather jacket and was known for saying 'Aye'. Like this…" Gunn demonstrated, as he imitated the famous character.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Fred piped in. "I always thought Fonzie was the jock that was in love with Sandra Dee."
"No, no, no." Wesley stated. "That was John Travolta playing Danny Zuko in Grease."
"What-soddin'-ever!" Spike barked. "It doesn't matter who the bleedin' hell he is. What's important is that he's cool. Okay? Therefore, it makes me cool because I was compared to him."
"Well, yeah. How did we start talking about this anyway? I have work to do. I better be going." Gunn said, as he picked up his paperwork and started leaving the room.
"Yes, um, I'll go help Gunn with those translations now," Wesley announced.
"Are you sure that was John Travolta, Wesley. I mean, I have a pretty good memory with these things and …" Fred followed Wesley, as she continued with her prattle. "Maybe we should ask Lorne, just to be on the safe side."
"Oh shoot! Look at the time; it's almost sunrise. I better get going. Don't wanna end up as dust. Bye, Spike." Harmony smiled, cheerfully.
"Harm, wait!" Spike screamed across the lobby and ran up to meet her.
"What is it this time, Spike?"
"Uh, I was just wondering, before you go and all, could we just… you know… have a little fun?"
And suddenly this large shrill laugh bellowed out from the center of the room. And Spike sighed and rolled his eyes. Laughing at a suggestion to have sex, he thought. That can't possibly be a good sign.
"What?" he snapped.
"Oh, my God, Spike! How can you be serious? I would never have sex with you again. What do you take me for? You hurt me by going off with that stupid slayer, mister. Now you have to suffer the consequences," she stuck her tongue out at him.
"Yeah, okay, I know. I've made mistakes with our 'relationship' before. But I promise, it won't happen again." He, pretending affection, put his arms around her waist and whispered something quite raunchy in her ear.
Harmony started to giggle when her expression suddenly turned to stone.
"No!" she pointed her finger at him. "You once told me you loved syphilis more than me."
"I've told you, Harm," Spike said, a bit aggravated. "That was all in the past. I'm a changed man now."
"I don't know…" Harmony hesitated.
"You know," Spike began "I think what you've done with your hair is just lovely."
"Ya think?"
"Absolutely! And that top… it really brings out your eyes."
"Really? Thanks." Harmony grinned, sliding her foot across the floor, acting like a young school girl. "Okay, you got fifteen minutes."
"Great!" Spike smirked as he grabbed Harmony by the hand and took her to the nearest empty office. Laughter dominated the room as certain clothing items were tossed aimlessly to the floor.
And quite abruptly, the laughter died down. The reason was unbeknownst to Harmony.
"Blondie Bear? What's wrong?"
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Spike screamed, emphasizing every syllable. "It's the damn Melty Man!"