Spike sat motionless in the arm chair. Staring, unseeingly, at the tiles on the floor. If he noticed me enter, he gave no sign. I pause by the counter to study him. It's been a long time since William and I have been in the same room without exchanging blows. Too long. Funny that this is what it took.
Everything I've been through. The demons I've faced- metaphorical and literal. The friends I've gained and the ones I've lost... funny that her death is what it took. I grimace.
Funny in that "slit you open and make window decorations out of your intestines kind of way." Yeah... real funny.
He finally turns to face me and I almost start when I hear him speak.
"I know I'm a good lookin' bloke an' all, but I'd appreciate it if you stopped bloody starin', came over here, and sat your fat arse down so we can talk."
"Nice to see that 121 years hasn't taught you any manners. I mean, it's good to know that some things never change."
He gives me a humorless smile while flipping me off. Yep, it's great to be family.
"So, William," ooh... if looks could stake, "What'd you want to talk about?"
"Well, Angelus," bastard," There's the littler matter of Buffy." I lean back and study him again before speaking,
"Not that we don't appreciate the help and all, but why do you even care?"
"We?" Ok, that was contempt... "We who, dad?" More contempt, "Far as I can remember, you left a couple years back. Since then, I've been a member of that "We" and you've been prancin' around Los Angeles."
Alright, that was just a low blow.
"Are you saying that this is my fault?" I question icily.
For half a second it looks like he's going to respond, but then his expression changes and he drops his head into his hands. This is a different Spike than I've ever seen and there's nothing but defeat in his voice when he looks up with weary eyes and replies, "Look Angel, I just want to get her back."
I decide I'm definitely gonna start calling Willow for more regular updates from now on. I lay my hand on his shoulder.
"We will find a way, Spike. I promise."
He nods before looking away.
"So, how long have you been in lover with her?"
He shoots me another "I wish I could fit you in an ashtray" look. Bingo.
"Are you bloody daft? Who said anything about me-"
"Spike..." I cut him off.
You gotta love loud, audible, weight-of-the-world, I really don't want to tell you a damn thing sighs.
"Since before soldier-boy left," he grinds out.
"Riley's gone?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Good."
His eyes get round and he stares at me a second before a grin splits his face, "Could it be? We actually agree on something?"
I grin back, "Perish the thought."
That's when we're interrupted. Willow comes back in the room, Wesley trailing behind her,
"Spike... didn't you mention something about Darla coming back from the dead?" she questions, half listening for the answer, while the other half is engrossed in the book she's sifting through.
Suddenly it clicks and Spike and I stare at each other.
"Darla..." he begins.
"Wolfram and Hart..." I finish. We both grab for our jackets. Time to go to work.

TBC