Chapter 21
Spike felt like he had only just got to sleep when Lynda's particularly strident alarm sounded.
"Lynda, why can't you ever set it to wake to music?" he groaned, flapping his hand randomly at the bedside table until the air-raid siren ceased. "That clock of yours is going to take ten years off my life. It's not right to be scared out of sleep every morning."
"I find it invigorating," said Lynda who was already sitting up and looking considerably more awake than her bedmate.
"I'm glad. You can be invigorated for both of us," Spike yawned and rubbed his eyes. "You're just lucky my face doesn't take as long to wake up as the rest of me."
"Says who?" asked Lynda. "You haven't seen a mirror yet."
"Ouch!" Spike clutched his heart in mock-pain. "You know, you're right. Do I have permission to use the bathroom and confirm my extraordinary beauty or will you require it for the full time allocated before we head off to your appointment?"
Lynda's face changed. "Right. The appointment. Can you believe it, after thinking about it all night, I'd actually forgotten for a minute?"
"Well, it's a good thing you've got me as your personal assistant. I even organised a taxi to come and pick us up."
"Spike, how is it you can be so remarkably efficient and yet still fail to submit 75 of your articles on time?"
Spike thought. "Well, when I'm writing my articles, I get distracted thinking of you. But when I have to organise things for you specifically, I'm already thinking of you, thus reducing my distraction time and improving my productivity. What do you think?"
"Amazing," replied Lynda dryly. "So if all your articles were about me, they'd be submitted on time?"
"If not early!" agreed Spike.
"Maybe we need to rethink your duties then."
"Ha ha. No, I'll be good. Promise."
After they showered and dressed, there was a beep out the front of the flat.
"That'll be the taxi," said Spike, standing.
"Actually, Spike – no offence, but I think I'd rather go alone. I won't run off . . ." she added hastily, seeing Spike's face, "But I just think us being in there together, people will just know . . ."
Spike sighed. "Lynda, if you really are pregnant, they're going to know sooner or later!"
"I know, I know," said Lynda. "But at this stage, I'd prefer later. Okay?" She leaned over and kissed him. "I'll see you soon."
Spike still looked unhappy about the situation but kissed her back.
"Can I walk you to the cab, at least?"
"You can, if you stop pouting," allowed Lynda. He escorted her through the hall and out the door to where the taxi was purring by the curb. Opening the back door, he ushered her inside.
"And you're sure you don't want me to come?" he asked again.
"I'm sure. But it doesn't mean I don't love you," replied Lynda, kissing him again.
"I love you too. Call me if you need me," Spike shut the door and patted the top of the cab as it drove off.
"I'll just wait here," he said pensively to the empty street.