About 15 minutes had passed, and Spike was angrily pacing around the room.
"Why would you tell him to come here? You couldn't have had your little
meeting somewhere else?"
"Spike, I understand why you wouldn't want to see Angel right now. But like I said, you're the only one who has been in contact with Doyle, it's important that you're here." Wesley replied, a tad impatiently, as if they've been over this topic a few times before.
"I still don't see why-" Spike stopped as Angel stepped through the door.
"Wes, what's wrong? On the phone you sounded..." his eyes widened as he noticed Spike. "Spike? Is it you?"
"Sod off. It's no concern of yours, peaches." Spike shot back
"It really is you!" Angel burst into a fit of laughter. "What the hell happened?" Angel managed to get out, in between laughing fits. Spike decided he had had enough. He grabbed his beer can and threw it at Angel's forehead. "Was that supposed to hurt?" Angel doubled over, laughing even harder, holding onto the wall for support. Spike glared at him for a moment before climbing onto the back of his chair and launched himself onto Angel's shoulders. Spike grabbed two handfuls of Angel's hair and bashed Angel's head against the wall. "Hey, ow!" Angel cried out. Spike bashed Angel's head against the wall again. "Spike!" Angel yelled angrily. Spike started to laugh wildly and shoved Angel's head into the wall again. Angel decided he had had enough and swatted frantically at the still laughing Spike, who was still seizing each opportunity to do more damage to Angel's head. Rolling his eyes, Wesley walked across the room and grabbing Spike around the waist, attempted to pull him off of Angel. "Ow! Wes! He still has my hair!" Angel howled. Suddenly Spike's hands flew from Angel's hair and Wesley stumbled backwards holding Spike. Angel collapsed to the floor.
"Hey! Put me down, Percy!" Spike yelled while thrashing wildly. "This doesn't concern you!"
"Wes, would you calm him down?" Angel asked as he picked himself up.
"I don't think there's much I can do." Wesley replied, eyeing the thrashing puppet in his arms. "Spike-I called Angel over for a reason, remember?" Spike gradually relaxed.
"Fine. Tell Captain Forehead to fetch me a beer." Spike wiped his hands on his pants. "Don't know how you can stand this much gel in your hair." He muttered.
"Would you get him one?" Wesley asked Angel. Angel walked over and carefully positioned him in front of the fridge.
"Feel free to help yourself to an icepack." Spike taunted. Angel didn't pay any attention. Snickering to himself, he shook up the can of beer in his hand. Wesley put Spike down so he could take the can Angel was bringing him. Spike opened the beer and it sprayed him in the face. He dropped the can and attempted to charge Angel when Wesley scooped him up again.
"There are more important things going on right now." Wesley told him condescendingly. He picked up the near empty beer can and handed it to Spike, who he sat on the couch.
"Spike, can you just, calm down for a moment and let Wes talk?" Angel asked Spike, who grumbled his reply.
"You might want to sit down." Wesley told Angel.
"O.K...What's going on?" He asked nervously, as he sat down in Spike's chair.
"Spike, why don't you tell Angel how you got your...puppet problem."
"Right then. I got this tip from this source I have. He's got connections with the Powers That Be of some sort; they send him these visions that he passes along to me. He told me that this show was doing something to harm kids, so I checked it out and I came across this guy."
"Tell him your source's name." Wesley interjected.
"His name's Doyle." Spike said, looking at Angel meaningfully.
"What?" Angel asked, not believing what Spike said
"He calls himself Doyle." Spike repeated.
"No, that's not possible." Angel stood up "Doyle died, I saw it."
"Maybe the Powers decided that he could do more good for them." Wesley said. "Wouldn't they be capable of that?"
"No, that's just it. I went to the oracles and they told me the Powers wouldn't help me because Cordy inherited his visions." Angel was getting increasingly worked up.
"But with Cordelia now in a coma, that opened up a spot to fill." Wesley told him.
"But that doesn't make sense, why would he be in contact with Spike and not me?"
"It's Wolfram and Hart mate, the Powers saw what it's done to you." Spike replied.
"But Doyle knows me, he knows I would never...He was my friend dammit, he would at least let me know he was alive!"
"Angel, we still can't even be sure this is the same man you knew." Wesley said, trying to calm him down. "Spike, can you tell us anything else?"
"He's a but shorter than me, and he's got this scar around his wrist. He had a touch of a southern accent as well."
"Doyle's Irish." Angel muttered to himself
"What was that?" Wesley asked.
"I said Doyle's Irish. That doesn't make any sense. And I never noticed a scar around his wrist..." Angel trailed off, thinking for a moment. "Short, southern, scar on his wrist. Did he say anything else?"
"Just that you two had what he called 'disagreements'"
"Lindsey." Angel said darkly.
"Who?" Spike asked.
"He was a former lawyer at Wolfram and Hart, who despite the Senior Partner's wishes, tended to focus on getting Angel killed." Wesley explained to him quickly.
""But if he's after me, why bother toying with Spike, sending him off to help people?"
"Probably to make you doubt yourself. Lindsey probably wanted you to see Spike out in the streets when you had given it up." Wesley replied.
"That's not all he's done." Spike added.
"What do you mean?" Wesley asked him.
"He's the one who sent you the amulet that brought me back, and that package making me corporeal."
"He's been playing us all this time." Angel sighed. "Did he ever tell you where he lives?"
"No. He just calls or shows up here. Other than that we meet up every other night in the alley behind this place. I was planning on that tonight until...this happened." Spike looked at his puppet hand pointedly.
"Alright, Wes-take Spike back to the lab, see if Fred can figure out more on what's happened to him. Tonight, I'll be showing up in the alley in Spike's place.
"Spike, I understand why you wouldn't want to see Angel right now. But like I said, you're the only one who has been in contact with Doyle, it's important that you're here." Wesley replied, a tad impatiently, as if they've been over this topic a few times before.
"I still don't see why-" Spike stopped as Angel stepped through the door.
"Wes, what's wrong? On the phone you sounded..." his eyes widened as he noticed Spike. "Spike? Is it you?"
"Sod off. It's no concern of yours, peaches." Spike shot back
"It really is you!" Angel burst into a fit of laughter. "What the hell happened?" Angel managed to get out, in between laughing fits. Spike decided he had had enough. He grabbed his beer can and threw it at Angel's forehead. "Was that supposed to hurt?" Angel doubled over, laughing even harder, holding onto the wall for support. Spike glared at him for a moment before climbing onto the back of his chair and launched himself onto Angel's shoulders. Spike grabbed two handfuls of Angel's hair and bashed Angel's head against the wall. "Hey, ow!" Angel cried out. Spike bashed Angel's head against the wall again. "Spike!" Angel yelled angrily. Spike started to laugh wildly and shoved Angel's head into the wall again. Angel decided he had had enough and swatted frantically at the still laughing Spike, who was still seizing each opportunity to do more damage to Angel's head. Rolling his eyes, Wesley walked across the room and grabbing Spike around the waist, attempted to pull him off of Angel. "Ow! Wes! He still has my hair!" Angel howled. Suddenly Spike's hands flew from Angel's hair and Wesley stumbled backwards holding Spike. Angel collapsed to the floor.
"Hey! Put me down, Percy!" Spike yelled while thrashing wildly. "This doesn't concern you!"
"Wes, would you calm him down?" Angel asked as he picked himself up.
"I don't think there's much I can do." Wesley replied, eyeing the thrashing puppet in his arms. "Spike-I called Angel over for a reason, remember?" Spike gradually relaxed.
"Fine. Tell Captain Forehead to fetch me a beer." Spike wiped his hands on his pants. "Don't know how you can stand this much gel in your hair." He muttered.
"Would you get him one?" Wesley asked Angel. Angel walked over and carefully positioned him in front of the fridge.
"Feel free to help yourself to an icepack." Spike taunted. Angel didn't pay any attention. Snickering to himself, he shook up the can of beer in his hand. Wesley put Spike down so he could take the can Angel was bringing him. Spike opened the beer and it sprayed him in the face. He dropped the can and attempted to charge Angel when Wesley scooped him up again.
"There are more important things going on right now." Wesley told him condescendingly. He picked up the near empty beer can and handed it to Spike, who he sat on the couch.
"Spike, can you just, calm down for a moment and let Wes talk?" Angel asked Spike, who grumbled his reply.
"You might want to sit down." Wesley told Angel.
"O.K...What's going on?" He asked nervously, as he sat down in Spike's chair.
"Spike, why don't you tell Angel how you got your...puppet problem."
"Right then. I got this tip from this source I have. He's got connections with the Powers That Be of some sort; they send him these visions that he passes along to me. He told me that this show was doing something to harm kids, so I checked it out and I came across this guy."
"Tell him your source's name." Wesley interjected.
"His name's Doyle." Spike said, looking at Angel meaningfully.
"What?" Angel asked, not believing what Spike said
"He calls himself Doyle." Spike repeated.
"No, that's not possible." Angel stood up "Doyle died, I saw it."
"Maybe the Powers decided that he could do more good for them." Wesley said. "Wouldn't they be capable of that?"
"No, that's just it. I went to the oracles and they told me the Powers wouldn't help me because Cordy inherited his visions." Angel was getting increasingly worked up.
"But with Cordelia now in a coma, that opened up a spot to fill." Wesley told him.
"But that doesn't make sense, why would he be in contact with Spike and not me?"
"It's Wolfram and Hart mate, the Powers saw what it's done to you." Spike replied.
"But Doyle knows me, he knows I would never...He was my friend dammit, he would at least let me know he was alive!"
"Angel, we still can't even be sure this is the same man you knew." Wesley said, trying to calm him down. "Spike, can you tell us anything else?"
"He's a but shorter than me, and he's got this scar around his wrist. He had a touch of a southern accent as well."
"Doyle's Irish." Angel muttered to himself
"What was that?" Wesley asked.
"I said Doyle's Irish. That doesn't make any sense. And I never noticed a scar around his wrist..." Angel trailed off, thinking for a moment. "Short, southern, scar on his wrist. Did he say anything else?"
"Just that you two had what he called 'disagreements'"
"Lindsey." Angel said darkly.
"Who?" Spike asked.
"He was a former lawyer at Wolfram and Hart, who despite the Senior Partner's wishes, tended to focus on getting Angel killed." Wesley explained to him quickly.
""But if he's after me, why bother toying with Spike, sending him off to help people?"
"Probably to make you doubt yourself. Lindsey probably wanted you to see Spike out in the streets when you had given it up." Wesley replied.
"That's not all he's done." Spike added.
"What do you mean?" Wesley asked him.
"He's the one who sent you the amulet that brought me back, and that package making me corporeal."
"He's been playing us all this time." Angel sighed. "Did he ever tell you where he lives?"
"No. He just calls or shows up here. Other than that we meet up every other night in the alley behind this place. I was planning on that tonight until...this happened." Spike looked at his puppet hand pointedly.
"Alright, Wes-take Spike back to the lab, see if Fred can figure out more on what's happened to him. Tonight, I'll be showing up in the alley in Spike's place.