Chapter 2

The worst part of having two shattered legs was the boredom. Not so much the pain, because Spike knew how to deal with pain. The boredom might just kill him, though.

Everyone stationed at the Hyperion was doing their best to keep him entertained. Penny had cleared out the last of the things from his apartment and handed back the keys before she and Tommy left. Buffy had returned his duffle bag, which meant he had back some pictures he'd thought were gone forever and his journal, and she'd brought him some books before she headed out. He hadn't even minded that she weaseled one of his new t-shirts out of him to take with her.

Merry had installed everything from his apartment needing installation in his room at the Hyperion, gotten him set up with his gaming system and a reading lamp and such. Jezzie had gotten him a laptop and an iPod, and an account so he could download music. He didn't want to think of the dosh he owed her. She also stopped by at least once a day to update him on construction and how the other Slayers were doing on patrols. That had started while Buffy was here, the three of them talking about what level the younger girls were at, what they needed to be trained in next and all that. He appreciated Jezzie keeping him in the loop even though she was still updating Buffy by e-mail, and it was good to have a chat with an adult.

Everyone else; the old Wolfram & Hart crew as well as the other Slayers and the new Watchers, came to visit, delivered his meals, and shared stories about the ongoing construction and whatever else was going on in their lives. Angel…Liam, can't forget that…and Apple were too injured to be out of bed for long, but they showed up occasionally to chat. He got the sense Liam was trying to pump him for information on Buffy, but either he was doing a bad job of it or a very good one, because Spike couldn't figure what the Pouf was trying to get out of him. Apple seemed more relaxed now that her parents were making noises about going home. He wanted to ask about that, but Apple's da John came to visit with her most of the time, so there never seemed like a good opportunity.

Ron and Marta both came to check him over once a day, but Ron at least still had an outside job and didn't hang around. Not terribly sociable, the Doc. Spike tried to engage him in conversations, but Ron never really seemed to warm up. Illyria popped in at odd hours, but her visits were often less than entertaining. Nothing like having a god ask you questions about your love life to put you thoroughly out of the mood. Which, actually, was probably best considering the shape he was in.

Watching TV, playing video games, reading, surfing the web, and listening to music could only entertain him so much. They were all things he could do while sitting still. Very, very still. Spike had always been pretty active, and all the sitting was getting to him. His newly-mortal bones didn't heal the way they had when he was a vampire; he'd have been mostly back to normal by now if he was still undead. Having the windows open and the sun on his face was a small consolation at this point. At least he wasn't too deprived of socialization, with all the visitors. Marta had asked yesterday about putting him on the babysitting rotation, which would at least give him a real task to focus on occasionally. Not that he'd get to run around with the little ones or anything…

Just as his mood was sliding towards depression, there was a knock on the door. "Come," he called, wishing for the millionth time he could get up and let whoever it was in himself.

Tommy poked his head in. "Hey, man, we're here. Mind if I come in?"

"Naw, mate, come on in. Not like I'm doing much of anything." He tried not to sound morbid, because Tom and Penny hadn't been around for weeks, but his sadness showed in his voice. "Good to see you."

"You sound chipper. Bad pain today?" Tommy dropped into the armchair that was perpetually next to the bed.

"Gee, thanks ever so. It's the overwhelming boredom, and the promise of more of the same." Spike sighed. "If the lack of movement doesn't kill me, the not knowing what to expect will. Am I going to be up and around next week? A month from now? Never?"

"I guess that answers my next question. I was gonna ask if you'd heard anything yet on when the casts can come off." Tommy looked worried.

"Not even remotely. X-rays can finally be taken soon, and Willow mentioned some healing mojo when she comes in town; then probably more X-rays after the witch does her thing. Then, who knows." He made a face at his visitor. "Almost wishing I was a vamp again; least that way I'd know they were going to heal, rather than all this fussing about if my legs'll ever be right again."

Just then an orange cat sprang up onto the bed, startling both of them. "Hey, you little bugger. You're not supposed to be in here!" Spike and the cat glared at one another.

Tom chuckled. "I see Merry's brood of felines are making themselves at home." He reached out and scratched the back of the cat's head. It made an annoyed noise, then nuzzled his hand. "I didn't even see him in the hallway, don't know how he snuck in with me."

"The annoying little bugger's always trying to get in here." Spike transferred his glare from the cat, whose name he thought was Frodo, to Tommy. "Don't encourage him, you. If he thinks he'll get petted in here, I'll never bloody be rid of him."

"Not a cat person?" Tommy picked up the cat and moved it to his lap.

Spike shook his head. "Don't dislike them as a rule, but this one has an especially bad attitude. And he keeps walking across my casts."

Tommy snorted and gave the cat a noogie. "Rude little guy. You're supposed to do that magic healing purr thing, not injure the patient." The cat mrowed and stood up to circle around into a more comfortable position and flop down again. The men chuckled. "Well, I don't know if this falls under things that might cheer you up or not, but I have an announcement." Tom said.

"Your Slayer's up the duff?" Spike asked, chuckling at the face Tommy made.

"Shit, if she were she'd murder me. She's so hell bent on having the perfect wedding it's a little scary. But, um, it's wedding related." Tommy took a deep breath. "We're moving to LA permanently, before the wedding. Penny lost her job in Tucson because of all the absences, and Jezzie wants to give her one here. I can basically work anywhere in the US, but if Pen has to go work for the Council in England I'm screwed, so…"

"So, where are you holding the wedding, then?"

"Umm, here. At the Hyperion."

Spike blinked, considering. "Well, that's a bit of alright, then. It's pretty, it's free, half your friends are already living here so there's fewer travel arrangements…"

Tommy nodded. "And the best thing is, there will be plenty of people here to help her with things when I'm working on your estate stuff and prepping my other case for trial. Which trial is in Las Vegas, so it's actually closer from here. At this rate I may even have time to pick out some music for the reception before it's the night before and I'm in a panic. Although, if I play my cards right Jezz will offer to DJ, and I may actually have time for a bachelor party."

"Jezebel DJ's?" Spike tried to picture it, and it really wasn't working. "Seriously?"

"You'll see it sooner or later." Tom chuckled. "Evidently, in their younger, wilder days she and Penny cut quite the swath through London's clubs."

"Stop, you're making my head hurt."

The chuckles cut the tension, and conversation moved on. They talked for a while about the TV show Tommy had gotten him addicted to during his previous visit, then they reviewed the paperwork Tom had brought, which would allow them to access a safe deposit box and storage unit in London when they visited. They had to pre-register with the facility, and since Spike's ID was fake at the moment, Tommy had negotiated a deal where he submitted William's fingerprints instead of a copy of his passport. Tommy also had some tips on a new video game they'd both been playing. After a while, the paperwork was put away and conversation died out, and they sat in a companionable silence.

Until Spike got bored again. "I spoke to Buffy earlier."

Tommy arched an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, cause you only do that on days that end in 'y'." He snorted. "So, how is she?"

"Good. Packing, shipping off Slayers left and right, trying to get Dawn to study for finals. Her pop's still ducking her or something; can't find out a thing from those asses he works for." Spike stopped. "Can I ask you something, mate?"

"Dude, I'm your lawyer. You can ask me anything, and tell me anything, it'll never leave this room." He glanced down at the cat in his lap. "Unless Bilbo is wearing a wire.

Spike smiled. "Ah, I knew it was one of the Tolkien cats. Had the wrong Hobbit, though."

"Frodo's the black one with the white patch who's missing an eye. Sam's the all-white, deaf one."

"Right." Spike took a deep breath. "So, if you called someone at their office, and never got through to them…Like, you called for months, at different times, and left messages, and followed up on the messages. And you not only never got a call back, but never got an explanation beyond, 'He's not available'…Then when you demanded an explanation forcefully they sent you to HR, who told you the only way you were getting an explanation was to show up, in person, with valid ID to prove you were who you said you were…What would you think?"

Tommy thought about it for a while, stroking the cat meditatively. "Umm, a few possibilities." He shoved his glasses up his nose. "First, he's dead, but for some reason they don't want to advertise that. Second, he's in some sort of legal trouble, and they want to make sure they're not telling some rando. Third, they know she's a Slayer, or The Slayer, and they're holding him for ransom to get a favor from her. Fourth, maybe he took off and left them in some kind of situation, and they think they can hold her hostage to get him to come fix it." He sighed, shaking his head. "I mean, there may be a less-lousy explanation, but it's not coming to mind."

Spike exhaled. "Yeah, that's about what I thought. And if he's dead, or it's a trap or whatever, I don't like the idea of Buffy and Dawn blundering in there without backup. Told her I'd join her in Spain once I was mobile again; figure I have to go to London anyway, settle that estate paperwork with you, go through these storage units, get a real passport. Might as well meet them there; help with whatever the insanity in Spain ends up being, travel back here with them."

"Escorting them back? Afraid they'll back out on the move?" Tommy chuckled.

"Nah, more concerned about one of them wandering off to fight a demon or getting mixed up in something and missing a flight."

"So, we're going to Spain?" Tommy leaned forward in his seat. "I have to be with you in London for the estate stuff, and we start having separation problems after a couple of days, so Pen'll have to come, too. If you, Buffy and Dawn are going to Spain, there's no way Pen's just coming back here, she's gonna want to back you up. And, you know, wither she goest…Besides, a friend who's a lawyer has gotta be helpful, right?"

Spike didn't see how that worked out, since Tom's business with his estate was mostly in a barrister's office in London. Would he and Penny really follow them to Spain to possibly walk into a bad situation just because they wanted to be helpful? Did this mean he had friends now? Merry had startled him a couple of days earlier, saying she was his 'best friend' in LA, although Spike wasn't sure what she meant by that. There was Clem, of course…He wasn't used to so much concern on his behalf, people wanting to hang out with him. Not since he was a kid, anyway.

Tommy must have seen his discomfort, because he changed the subject. "So, where do you want to go first, once you're cleared to leave the grounds? You're probably not going to be up for hiking, but there's the beach, the boardwalks are pretty wheelchair friendly around here…We could go to a soccer game; or maybe fly up to San Francisco and take a road trip through wine country."

The former vampire relaxed back against his pillows, and enjoyed the feel of the sun on his face while he listened to Tommy plan excursions involving lots of sun and very little walking. Friends. Go figure. It wasn't a perfect life by any stretch, but it was life, and he figured he could get used to that.

Gregor paced, trying to come up with a way into the Hyperion. The building was barred to vampires, and then there were all the Slayers…No way he could see to get in, or to look around once he was. Watching all night from outside had yielded no sign of the ones he searched for. They must be inside; he just needed to find a way in…And when he did, when he found those traitors to demon-kind, their heads would roll.

Once he'd had his revenge, he could rest.