Chapter Two
The elevator door gave a cheerful 'ding' and opened onto the lobby floor of Wolfram & Hart. Spike mentally sighed as he watched the lawyers bustle around, papers stuffed to their faces and briefcases thumping against their thighs. A while ago he had promised he never wanted to see this place again, but he realized that that was impossible, seeing as he couldn't just let Angel off the hook. If the Poof was running an evil lawfirm, Spike wasn't going to let it be an easy job.
"Oh, my God! Spike?" a chipper voice asked from over his right shoulder. He saw Harmony float around the front of her desk, pink skirt bouncing around her knees.
"Harm." He sighed, avoiding her gaze and taking a step toward Angel's door.
"What are you doing—"
"Is Angel in?" Spike asked, cutting her off with a curt wave of his arm. Harmony shut her mouth with an audible snap and scowled. After a moment, she glanced at the door and shook her head.
"No. He's in a meeting." she stalked back behind her desk and sat down. She pursed her lips as Spike walked by, but she didn't say anything.
"Right, then. Tell the Boss Man I'll be in his office." Spike turned the handle of Angel's door and let himself in. Harmony rolled her eyes as he gave her a slight wave and then disappeared behind the double doors.
"Tell your people that I'm not interested. I have better things to do with my time than sort out your tribe's issues." Angel said, walking backwards through his office doors, hand on one of the handles. Something growled and Angel just slammed the doors in reply.
"Ain't that the truth. 'Specially since you got your own." Spike chuckled from across the room. His boots were propped up on the mahogany desk and he had his hands neatly folded in his lap. At the sight, Angel rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath.
"Spike, what do you want? Don't you have your own place?" he asked, walking toward the desk, stride slightly defeated. Spike shrugged.
"Yeah, well, it's another ruddy basement. Not exactly partial." He sighed, looking out the window and taking his feet off the desk. He knew Angel would push them off anyway so he decided to save himself the trouble.
"I've got work to do."
"So do I."
"Oh, really?" Angel asked, standing over the younger vampire. "I didn't know pissing me off came with a benefits package." He scowled, hands crossed over his chest and stretching the jacket at its seams. Spike just smirked and stood up so he was nose to nose with his fellow demon.
"It doesn't. I just do it for fun."
"Why does that not surprise me?" Angel mumbled, rolling his eyes and taking Spike's place in the leather chair. Spike crossed the room to the red armchair and sat on its edge, playing with the hem of his shirt. He rubbed the material over his fingers and it worried him a little when he realized he could barely feel the fabric. His face fell slightly and he began to press harder on the black cotton. Angel must have noticed because he leaned forward against the desk.
"What are you doing?" he asked, bringing Spike's attention back to him. Spike shook his head quickly and cocked his chin in defense.
"Nothing."
"You can't feel that can you?" Angel asked cautiously after a moment of awkward silence.
"Sure I can." He defended, standing and marching over to the window. He looked at the city below, bathed in afternoon light, "Just—not very much." He added softly, running his fingers through his hair.
