Title: Don't Make Me Come To Vegas

Author: Pokerkitten Rating: PG

LJ Challenges: #1 - Jossverse Drabbles (100 words)

a drabble based on a title from a Tori Amos song, in any way that said title inspires you. #2 – tv100 Planes, Trains and Automobiles #3 – tv100 broken bottle, cigarette butt, dry grass #4 – tv100 lipstick, broken sidewalk, fog #5 – tv100 peace offering, smirk, fingernails

Setting: AtS, late S5.

Disclaimer: Joss, ME, Fox, yadayada own the characters. I just mess with them.

Don't Make Me Come To Vegas #1

"Spike!" Angel growled down the phone. "You said you weren't leaving! Stupid of me to believe you" he added with a weary sigh.

"Need a break, some fun. Before...." Spike's voice changed. "You know..."

But Angel was distracted by Harmony literally tripping through his office doorway, spilling otter blood on the plush carpetting. So didn't catch the sadness, the finality in Spike's tone.

"If you've gone, you've gone! Just don't make me come to Vegas to get my Viper back!" Angel barked.

Meaningful silence from the other end of the phone.

The penny dropped. "I'm on my way" Angel promised.

Don't Make Me Come To Vegas #2

"I. Don't. Like. Flying!"

"Well, pick a bloody car then! Not like you're short of a fast one. Or ten."

"I'm in the parking garage. Right now. Really...."

"Get a bleeding move on, then!" Spike yelled.

Angel winced, holding his cell at arm's-length; Spike's increasingly colourful obscenities coming through loud and clear, nevertheless.

Then a sudden tactical shift, voice lowered. "Got us a 'bike. A decent 'bike this time. Powerful. Fast. Tears up the Strip." Pause. "You'll have to hold on real tight."

Silence for a moment, remembering how it had felt in Rome. "I'm coming!"

'I'll bet you are.'

Don't Make Me Come To Vegas #3

Best laid plans! Ten hours since his call, still no sign of Angel. Sprawled on the dry, brittle grass outside Bally's, Spike glowered at the bottle. Empty, smashed in frustration when he'd reluctantly turned down that daring offer. Sweet-looking girl, too.

Spike sighed. He was sober as a judge, The Judge even, and horny as hell! But he'd wanted this time to be for his grandsire, to give them some closure. Because time was running out...

His cell suddenly chirruped, making him start; almost dropping his cigarette butt into the tinderbox of grass and booze. Fire bad!

"Yeah?"

"I'm lost!"

Don't Make Me Come To Vegas #4

"You never did have any sense of direction!"

Angel's lips twitched upwards as Spike railed on.

"Never heard of a sodding map?! Ask someone!"

"I will.... when I see someone. Kinda foggy here. Just tell me where we're staying, I'll meet you there when I hit Vegas. Eventually."

"The bleeding Paris" Spike yelled, ringing off. A woman walked by, almost losing her balance on the broken sidewalk. Reaching out to steady her, he was rewarded with a flashing smile. Full lips, red lipstick.

Angel broke into a full-blown grin. Across the Strip from him loomed the magnificently fake Eiffel Tower.

Don't Make Me Come To Vegas #5

Spike admired her sharp-looking fingernails dancing up and down her glass. Same shade as her lips. She'd left a lipstick trace at the corner of his mouth with her thank-you kiss; delicately removed it with those long fingers....

"Shall we go up?" she asked.

Spike's thoughts wandered. Huh? Fog?! And hadn't he heard the thunder of traffic over the 'phone? Wait a minute! The devious bastard was already here!

Spike smirked, which the woman mistook for acquiessence.

"Really sorry love. Somewhere else I need to be."

x x x x x x x x

He found Angel sprawling, naked, on the bed.

"That's quite some peace offering, mate!"