Cherries
By Javawolf
Author's Note: I'm so sorry, I never meant to be so long. This isn't an extremely long chapter either but I wanted to at least put something up for you guys. Again, I beg your forgiveness, don't be angry! My internet was down.
Ricechex: Good news! I have satellite television now! I'm trying to keep up with Buffy. Angel makes so much more sense when I'm watching Buffy...go figure! I think I came into the middle of season 7, but I'm catching on. Very slowly.
Spike looked around the small cabin with interest. There was a long window facing the bow on one side, with Ivy's drawings and other various works of art taped everywhere on it except for a small square at the center, where one could peek through and see the very tip of the bow.
"You need one more for this spot, luv. It's looking rather lonely." Spike grinned. Ivy bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, (Having just taken her heels off.) And nodded slowly with a look of importance.
"Well..." She drawled in a very bored voice, straightening her posture. "The inspiration for my final touch has yet to strike."
Spike raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"
Ivy blushed and shrugged. "That's what Papa told me. He's an artist too. He taught me everything I know!"
Spike glanced at the papers stuck to the glass, sporting scribbles resembling dogs and giant rabbits of all colors.
"I can tell." He said with a smile. "Trained by the best." Ivy grinned ear to ear. "Where is your Papa, pet? Is he the captain?"
"He'll be back soon, and yeah! He's the caption, but he's tireding."
"Tired-ing? What's that, luv?"
"You know!" Ivy laughed. "When you don't wanna work anymore, so you just–"
"Retiring?" Spike interrupted. Ivy didn't seem to notice and nodded enthusiastically.
"Yup! He's gonna have a party and everything! Here on the boat! Are you coming?"
Ivy looked up at Spike with hopeful eyes. Spike thought of Angel, sitting alone in his office, probably being hassled by the others to sign this, kill that, the 'We're not evil, or anything.' speech being given to him repeatedly. Spike could just imagine the poor vampire sinking slowly under his desk and onto the floor. And there was nothing Spike could do about it. Were he there, he would consider that to be his cue to thoroughly piss Angel off, to the point where they yelled and threw things across the room at each other. Because only Spike knew how to make Angel feel better. Teary speeches do no bloody good at all.
"Spike!" Ivy tugged on his jacket impatiently. Spike smiled half-heartedly to the little girl.
"Of course I'm coming, luv. I've got nothing better to do, have I?" Ivy shrugged, obviously not understanding how anyone could possibly think of doing anything besides going to her Papa's party. Spike looked around.
"Well...Ivy, I don't know that your Papa's coming anytime soon." Ivy grabbed Spikes hand and pulled him almost double over as though she were afraid he would disappear.
"He'll be here! Just–"
"Ivy?"
Ivy spun around. "Papa!"
Author's Note: Yeah, well. Still stuck on that. I had a character for Papa, I really did! But see, my muse has gone on strike. It's not my fault, ask anyone! Even my poems and drawings are sliding. My muse's name is Blaise. You can boycott or petition for Blaise's return via the review button. She might be back tomorrow, next month. No telling with her. Again, I'm sorry I took so long. I'll get another chapter up soon...ish. Thanks. You guys are great. tear