Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fan Fiction ❯ Old Friends ❯ Four Steps Toward Confrontation ( Chapter 9 )

 

All of the phone numbers in this part are completely made up.

 

Chapter # 8: Four Steps Toward Confrontation

 

Tuesday

After his and Giles' argument/conversation the night before, Spike had been tempted to leave town and just avoid Giles and Angel altogether. Very tempted.

Quickly thinking this through though, he had realized that doing this—quitting his job, buying gas for his car, leaving town, finding another place to live, paying for that place to live, finding another job, then paying for everything else needed for survival—it would only waste every bit of cash he had managed to save so far. So he decided to stay where he was.

After all, staying with Giles wasn't completely horrible. He had a free place to live, free food, a steady income from multiple sources, and Xander Harris for free booze and tolerable company. Plus, after yesterday, Spike wouldn't even be surprised if his uncle started bending over backwards in his guilt, buying Spike whatever he wanted and obeying his every whim. Really, if you got right down to it, Spike had it made.

And people said he couldn't think positively.

Kicking the front door closed behind him after another long and boring day of work, Spike crouched down to untie his work shoes, standing up and kicking them off as he made his way back to his bedroom to change out of his uniform. Walking back out to the front of the house as he pulled a shirt over his head, he entered the kitchen for a bite to eat. Grabbing a bag of crisps from the cupboard, a biscuit from the Tupperware container sitting on the counter, and a bottle of water from the ice-box, he turned, planning on throwing himself on the sitting room sofa and lazing about for an hour or two before his almost daily trek to the Bronze to scam college kids out of their money. Half-way out of the kitchen though, he happened to glance in the direction of the phone and saw the blinking red light of the answering machine. Curious, he shoved the biscuit into his mouth, freeing his right hand of its burden, and reached out to push the message play-back button.

“You have ONE new message. Tuesday. Two Fifty-Nine, PM,” came the mechanical voice, followed by a beep, and then a familiar male voice, “Uh, yeah, hi. Will? This is Angel. I—BEEP,” Spike pressed another button, cutting him off, “Deleted.”

Spike removed the biscuit from his mouth and took a large bite, leaving the room without a backwards glance.

 

 

Wednesday

“CLICK,” the sound of the answering machine turning on, “You have THREE new messages.”

-

“Wednesday. One O-Five, PM . . . BEEP . . . Hi. Will? It's Angel. I guess you didn't get yesterday's message either. I really need to talk to you. Again, my number's 555-5623. Call me. BEEP”

-

“Wednesday. Four Thirty-Two, PM . . . BEEP . . . Hi. It's Angel again. I figured you'd be home by now but I guess not. Call me when you get this. BEEP”

-

“Wednesday. Five Sixteen, PM . . . BEEP . . . Giles? Hi! It's Willow. I was just looking at this book I bought from the Magic Box and I had some questions. In a spell for binding, what's the difference between using string and yarn? Does the color of the yarn matter or can it be any color? I really don't want to accidentally use the wrong color and end up making some person my love-slave. That'd be kind of embarrassing, don't you think?—giggle—Thanks Giles! Bye! BEEP”

 

 

Thursday

Diiing-Dong-Diiing

It was late afternoon, nearly early evening, and Giles had been relaxing in his armchair with a mystery novel and a hot cup of tea when he heard the sound of his doorbell. Sighing, he put his book and tea to the side and climbed out of his chair to answer the door. Hopefully it was simply Willow with a few more questions and not one of those damned door to door salesmen.

It turned out to be neither.

“Uh . . . good afternoon, Mr. Giles.” Looking incredibly awkward, Angel scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “I was . . . looking for Will. Is he here?”

Giles raised a brow. “No, I'm afraid that Spike,” the correction far from subtle, “is out for the moment.”

“Oh . . .” Disappointed, Angel lowered his hand and frowned, “Do you know when he'll be back?”

Leaning against the doorframe, Giles watched Angel unsympathetically. “He didn't say.”

“Then do you know where he is right now?”

“No,” Giles not trying to be even the least bit helpful.

Angel blinked at the blunt reply, “Um . . . okay. Then could you tell him that I came by? It's important.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Giles.” Angel awkwardly attempted a small smile in thanks. He had a pretty good feeling that Will wasn't going to be answering this message either.

 

 

Friday

“CLICK,” the sound of the answering machine turning on, “You have FIVE new messages.”

-

“Friday. Three Twenty-Five, PM . . . BEEP . . . Will? This is Angel again. I went over to your house yesterday but you weren't there and I guess you didn't get the message again. Or something. Please just call me, will you? I mean it. I just want to talk.”

-

“Friday. Three Fifty-Nine, PM . . . BEEP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . CLICK”

-

“Friday. Four Fifteen, PM . . . BEEP . . . Hi Giles. It's Buffy. I'm just calling to tell you that you seriously need to talk to your nephew. He's been avoiding Angel's calls for, like, the whole week and it's getting majorly annoying. Tell him to call Angel right now or I'm gonna go over there and kick him in the nuts, okay? Thanks, Giles. Bye!”

-

“Friday. Five Forty-Eight, PM . . . BEEP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . CLICK”

-

“Friday. Five Fifty-Two, PM . . . BEEP . . . Hey Spike. It's Xander. I just wanted to tell you that I'm not gonna be at the Bronze tonight. You know, as if you care. Oh and Buffy just called me to complain about you for, like, an entire hour. Apparently your going all avoid-y with her boyfriend is seriously cutting into her snuggle-time and so she's pretty pissed off. Could you please just call the guy so that I don't have to listen to her anymore? You don't have to talk to him. Just pick up the phone, dial the number, insult him, and hang up if you want. I honestly don't care what you do, just please do something, okay? Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

 

 

 

Saturday

“Do you think I should call again?”

Buffy looked over at Angel to find him staring at the phone. “Call who?”

“Spike.”

Buffy frowned. “He hasn't called you back yet?”

“No,” Angel frowned in frustration, “And I know he's gotten my messages too.”

“He should have. You certainly left him enough.”

“I know,” Angel said, and finally turned his attention to Buffy as he sat back in his seat on the threadbare couch. “And I don't get it. Whenever Will got angry, he would always confront the person immediately to start a fight. This is completely out of character for him.”

Buffy shrugged. “You said yourself that he's changed since you've seen him.”

“I guess . . .” Angel trailed off doubtfully.

Trying to think of something better to say, an idea came to her and she nudged Angel in the side to get his attention. “I know,” she said, “Let's go to the Bronze. Spike and Xander go there every Saturday to play pool. He shouldn't be able to avoid you there.”

Angel still looked doubtful, but was willing to try whatever it took to get his questions answered. “If you say so.”

“Trust me. It's gonna work.”