Disclaimer: The idea is Copy’s, the Characters are Joss’s, the plot is mine.

Feedback is my friend.
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Chapter 2: Desktop declarations

Yes it was the middle of the afternoon, but that wasn’t a problem when you were inhabiting the body of a vampire that had lawyer minions to do your every whim, to cart your broody ass where ever you wanted.

Spike called for a car to bring him to a local watering hole.

“Where do you think you are going Spike?“ asked an irate Angel.

“Gonna get you right sloshed mate,“ Spike said with a grin.

“It’s day outside.“

“Never stopped me before.“

“You can’t dust me while you are in my body Spike, you don’t know what will happen to you.“

“That may be true mate, but who said I wanted you dust?“ said Spike with a knowing look. “I’m just here for a good time. Been in oblivion for months. Saved the bloody world I did. I think that deserves a bottle or two of Jack.“

“You should be finding out how to get us back to normal. Or at least making it so that I can be heard and seen!”

“Now why would I do that Peaches?”

Angel crossed his arms and sat down with a pout. Unfortunately he forgot the part where he couldn’t touch stuff and fell right through the chair and landed on the floor.

Spike slapped his knee with delight.

The phone rang.

Spike deftly picked up the appliance and smirked in Angel’s general direction.

“Angel,” said Spike in his most Angel like of tones.

He listened attentively, as the flunky on the other end told him about the car waiting for him at the cargo entrance.

“Then I shall get my broody ass down there right away,” Spike said into the mouth piece and hanging up.

Spike looked right at Angel. “Got to keep up appearances you know, gotta have everyone here thinking I’m your poncy hair gelled ass, now don’t I?”

And with that Spike turned on his heel and headed out the door, leaving Angel alone in the office with no one to talk to.
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Spike found his way down to the cargo entrance with no problems. Well no problems after he found Carlos, from the mail room to direct him. Carlos was just the kind of man that before his chip days would have made a good minion to bleach his hair.

They had instantly struck up a conversation about Peaches’ hair.

“Hair is such an art form. I would have been a stylist, except my papa, you know how it is, sometimes you do things so your parents will be happy? I love your hair Mr Angel, such body, have you thought about highlights? Not that I don’t love the tall dark and handsome look.”

“You know,” said Spike, “I have been thinking about a new look, perhaps something radical, something with colour.”

Carlos nodded.

“Something that people will look at and think, now there’s a guy who’s not afraid of society.”

Carlos nodded again.

“Something pink.”
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Spike arrived at the bar, an upscale demon bar, with the full intention of getting Angel kicked out of the bar.

Spike ordered three shots of Jack Daniels straight off.

He earned a look from the bar tender, but the man (demon?) eventually just shrugged and poured the shots.

“Didn’t think that Wolfram and Hart were letting their boys back into my bar, not after that incident with the M’haloren...” said the bar keep. “You aren’t here on business are you?”

Spike smiled. “Would it make a difference if I was?”

The bar tender gulped.

“You see I’ve been thinking about branching out, you know, out on my own, set up a side business. Do you think actually whoring myself out would be much different than what I’m doing with Wolfram and Hart?” asked Spike very seriously, but earning a snort from the bar tender.

“Do you think I need a pimp?” continued Spike.

“You aren’t serious.”

“I? The magnificent Poofter? Champion of the Powers that Be? Completely serious.”

Spike downed a shot. He listened for a bit to the sounds of the piano in the background before downing his next shot.

Spike was actually starting to think that this was going to be a waste of time and effort. The bar was too snooty for him, or rather correction, to snooty for what he had made himself over his century and a bit of unlife.

Luckily, he was interrupted from his thoughts of just trashing the place for being bored, by the hand of a tall black man wearing a suit on his shoulder.

Spike grabbed the offender’s hand and back out of his chair. The man backed away with his hands raised.

“Chill man, it’s just me,” said the man.

Spike had no idea who this guy was.

“What are you doing here? You told the rest of us not to come here anymore.”

Spike shrugged, “Felt like it?”

“Doesn’t seem like a good excuse to me,”

“Maybe I don’t care what you think of the excuse? Was looking to get drunk, thought this would be a good place to start.”

The black man stared back at Spike.

“What has gotten in to you man?”

Spike shrugged. “I think it’s more of a who’s gotten in to me.” And with that Spike pushed the man away and headed towards the door, tripping up the waitresses and clients as he went, leaving behind him a trail of destruction.

“Hey!” called the bar tender, waving the bill.

Spike briefly turned. “Put it on Peaches’ tab,” he called and exited the bar.
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Buffy flipped through her Cosmo. Next time she took a transatlantic flight, she was so getting more than one magazine.

She kept staring at a picture of a bleach blond male model on page 43. He looked absolutely nothing like Spike. But the hair was a powerful reminder.

She wondered exactly where Spike was. Was he in a hell dimension, or did he redeem himself enough to be allowed to go to heaven.

Buffy looked over at her two travelling companions. Andrew was talking at Xander who was trying to watch the movie. Buffy smiled. She couldn’t hear a thing. Thank the Powers for ear plugs.
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Spike was corralled into the Limo once more. He needed to have fun, he needed to do something.

The problem was that the last time he felt this way, he had the ability to grab Buffy for a quick patrol, now he had no idea where she was or what she was doing. Of course now he had the resources of W&H.

“Where to sir?” asked the limo driver.

“Back to the firm Geeves!” called out Spike.

Spike snickered.

The limo was filled with scotch. And soon Spike had consumed all three of the bottles stored there. He was starting to feel that pleasant buzz from the scotch as the limo pulled up to the offices of Wolfram and Hart.

Spike made his way back through the loading dock and back up to Angel’s office only bumping into a few people. Most of whom he had never seen in his unlife. There was however someone which he instantly recognized.

Harmony.

Spike groaned. She was walking right towards him.

“Angel, you missed like all your appointments today,” she chastised.

“So?”

“So? I’m your secretary, I’m supposed to keep you on time and on schedule. I can’t be a good secretary you don’t let me do my job,” she whined.

Spike grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes, they were sad and in that moment, Spike suddenly felt very bad for all the barbs and snipes he ever threw her way.

Spike leapt up on the nearest desk and cleared his throat.

“Oy!” he shouted, British accent completely returned. “I’d just like to say that, Harmony here is a bloody brilliant secretary and does a jolly good job keeping me, the magnificent poofter, in check each and every day. And,” he paused dramatically, “If I wasn’t hung up on the love of my life, Vampire Slayer who sadly loves someone else, a right handsome bloke too if I might add, I would at once sweep her away to my stately mansion and do unmentionable things to her all day long. But alas, I am forever destined to love someone who no longer loves me, and care only for my gelled locks and poofy shirts.”

The people on the floor looked up at him with disbelief in their eyes.

“Thank you.” Spike hopped down from the desk and smiled at Harmony.

“Thanks,” she said confused, “I think. Did you drink some bad blood or something?”

“Nope,” Spike said with a smile and a resounding pop on the p. “But I do need you to find out where Buffy is.”

“The Slayer?”

“No, Saint Marie. Of course the bloody slayer, you daft bint!”

“Geez, chill,” said Harmony defensively. “She’s on a plane, on her way here. I thought you knew that.”

A smile spread over his face.

“When does she get in?” he was practically bouncing in place.

“Uh, a few hours.”

“Great!” said Spike, his buzz wearing off and his ability to control his Angel-ness returning.

“Are you sure you are ok?”

“Right as rain, I’ll be in my office.”

Spike turned on his heel and made for the poofter’s office.
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Spike was confronted by his ghostly figure as soon as he walked in the door.

“Where have you been?” asked Angel.

“You didn’t tell me that she was coming here!”

“You didn’t ask,” was Angel’s response.

Spike shrugged off the suit jacket that he had been wearing. “You got anything else to wear?” he asked.

“What’s wrong with that?” asked Angel pointing to the smart suit pants and shirt that his body was wearing.

“It’s stuffy. Poofy really. So what has the great poofter been up to?”

“What do you think I’ve been up to?” asked Angel. “Stuck in here with no one to talk to and I can’t touch anything...”

Spike pouted at Angel for a moment. Then smiled. “Got me a lady to see. Have to make sure she sees just the right side of you.”

Spike chuckled and headed out the door again, leaving the office wide open.
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“Carlos, take me somewhere where I can get out of these stuffy clothes,” said Spike barging into the mail room.

Carlos’ face lit up, “Yes sir!”
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tbc...