A/N: This is a prologue. It is really short but I thought I should give you all a little taster.
Visions of You
The offices of Wolfram and Hart were just too hectic sometimes, too polished, too fake. At least for him. The others didn't seem to mind. They had fit right into the evil empire. Spike still found it difficult to walk down those halls and not feel like a traitor.
Having recently been made re-corporeal again he was still marvelling in acting being able to touch, to smell, to feel again. So, he wasn't going to waste that in a place as false and depressing as Wolfram and Hart.
The vampire walked down the L.A street taking in the sights and sounds of the city at night. Car horns beeps, police sirens wailed, drunken co-eds laughed and shouted. Typical city life.
Dressed all in black with his leather duster flapping behind him Spike stopped and looked up into the sky. It was hard to see the stars in a city this full of light and industry. They were there nonetheless, sparkling at him. He took in a deep, unneeded breath, and in that moment he wished for cleaner, greener pastures. The green, green grass of home and all that rot.
Not that England had been his home for a long time.
A chill wind swept around him and underneath his coat making his already icy skin cool even further. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket and pulled the leather closer around his body. Not that that would stop the cold. He was dead, pretty much doomed to a life of chilliness.
Spike started walking again. Where was he headed? Most likely a pub, he thought. Get himself a good pint and some salty peanuts. What more could a vamp want?
His head suddenly felt funny and his vision turned bleary for a moment.
Spike stopped and frowned, blinking and waiting for his eyesight to clear. A dull sensation had settled in his head. He put one hand against a wall to lean against for support. He closed his eyes.
A narrow street was right ahead of him. What the hell?
The road was cobbled and there were high buildings on either side of him, washing lines hanging from window to window. Sounds of a horn beeping comically and some other background noise he couldn't decipher. Most amazing was that the street was bathed in light and he wasn't on fire. Well, this is interesting.
Spike opened his eyes abruptly.
The dark L.A street stretched out in front of him. No sunlight. Not even the same surroundings.
"Must be going mad, Spike me old boy" he muttered to himself.
On the plus side his headache was gone and his vision was fine. He stood up straight, adjusted his coat and carried on down the road.
He had made his way almost to the bar of his choice – great beer, nice ambiance, dark little corners to drown your sorrows in. That annoying cell phone Angel had made him have began to shrill loudly. He cursed and fished it out of his pocket. The caller ID said it was the Big Boss Man himself calling.
Spike rolled his eyes and flipped the phone open "Angel Delight, what do I own the pleasure of a call from the Big Cheesy?"
"Spike, cut the crap" Angel growled down the phone "We've got a group of Polgara's tearing things up at the office. We need back-up now"
"Can't manage it yourself?" Spike smirked, leaning his back against a wall.
"They've got Harmony and they're using her as a shield..."
Spike arched an eyebrow "And?"
"And they've got Fred too"
"I'll be there" Spike flipped the phone shut.
A/N: Told you it was short. What do you think? I didn't give you much to go on did I? More next chapter, cross my heart.