Settling In
Y’know what?”
Spike recognised the voice. It was kept low, in a kind of stage whisper, but he knew it was the young one - what was his name? Kincaid?
“I feel like I’m in a bad horror movie!”
Yeah, kid. You ’n’ me, both. He was sitting on the bed in the second floor room he’d been offered, staring at his boots. The room was on the smallish side, the carpet a little threadbare and the walls needing a lick of paint, but it was a damn sight better than where he’d been settled just twelve hours before. No pack of homicidal local demons baying after his blood, for a start.
Also, no direct sun. The window had been propped open to let out the dust and the stuffy, disused smell that collected in empty rooms, but there was nothing to be seen outside it except for the fire escape and the brickwork of the building next door.
“C’mon, Daniel.” That was the cute blonde - the shorter cute blonde, who seemed less likely to pull your nuts off if you looked at her wrong. “Maybe the script ain’t so hot but we have bitchin' CGI.”
“Yeah, yeah …” A chuckle and what was probably a sheepish grin. “It just … sorta creeps me out, y’know?”
Once again, bright spark, you are not alone. Spike got to his feet and wandered over to the window, patting his pockets in search of a smoke. He cast a glance back through the open door to where the conversation was continuing, then climbed out of the window and onto the fire escape, plonking himself down on the metal steps. He needed to think, and young Sparky wittering away in there wasn’t going to help.
So. His face lit briefly in the flame of the Zippo lighter, then fell to shadow again. Dimensional rift. Hardly a new thing, as far as Spike was concerned. He’d seen, what, at least three big ones over the last few years., and God knew how many smaller ones. Demons used the damn things like revolving doors. So, the problem was ...?
Well, firstly, he got the impression that this rift was a little different. Something to do with time, or so he gathered; he’d have to catch up on those details along the way. More important, though, was that this particular rift had apparently pulled him out of where he was and dropped him - quite literally - here. Wherever ’here’ was. Sure it was New York, but … was this the America he’d been in? Was the LA on the other side of the continent the same one he’d left?
Spike sucked in a lungful of smoke, letting it slowly leak out through his nose. Nobody’s phone connected, the Angel-I site didn’t exist. Wolfram and Hart were around, but those bastards were everywhere. There was nothing on the news about any specific weirdness happening in LA, though the battle with the Senior Partners must surely have been noticed by somebody. All signs that this was not the world he called home. Which meant … what? A few things. The possibility that there was a local version of himself knocking around. Nasty thought, even if it meant there might be somebody worth fighting.
And what about the other dimension, the world he’d come from? Was he suddenly just MIA to them - assuming the others even survived? And - although this was only a passing thought in the light of more practical concerns - what did this all mean for the Shanshu? If his departure had left the Big Poof back there as the only sodding Vampire with a Soul, he was going to be incredibly pissed.
Too many questions - all of which he was going to have to think about and find the answers to. All of which were going to be a complete and utter pain in the …
“Hello?”
Spike sat up. It was the blonde’s voice, and accompanied by a light tap at the open door. “Out ‘ere, pet.” He stood, taking another long drag to finish the cigarette as he moved back to the window.
“Ah.” She was by the door, a bundle of clothing gathered in her arms. “For a second there I thought you’d changed your mind.”
“Nah.” He flicked the butt away, “Just having a bit of peace and quiet. Besides, as your pretty friend said - who else have I got?” It was true; not just in the sense of not being completely on his own, but that he had questions, needed answers, and had no-one else to ask. “Mind you,” as he climbed back in the window, “a body has to wonder why you’re doing this.”
“So a body should.” She shrugged, carrying the clothing over to the bed. “We must seem like the Intergalactic Salvos or something.”
“Never seen a Sally Army girl like you, pet.” Spike leaned on the window frame, folding his arms. “And I've bitten a few. But that’s not an answer.”
“No, it isn‘t. But what else am I gonna say? ‘Oh please, oh please trust us’? Not much point, is there?”
“I s‘pose not.“ Smirking in spite of himself. “I guess I’m in the habit of watching my back.”
“That‘s never a bad habit. Look - nothing we say right now is gonna convince you we‘re on the level, and quite frankly it shouldn‘t. You’ll just have to figure it out for yourself.” She straightened up, nodding her head toward the door, “Now, we’re settling in for a movie, some take-out and disposing of a massive amount of beer. Up to you if you wanna join in.” And with that, she turned and left.
For a moment Spike stood where he was, looking after her. Whu - ? Well ... if they were setting him up, they had an interestin' way of doing it. He blinked, shook his head and spoke to the empty room. “ … I’ll be there.”