Chapter Text
"But Giles!" Andrew whined into the phone, "He's never taken this long emailing me back before! My spider senses are getting all tingly... You got to authorize a rescue mission! You just... You just gotta! Don't you love Xander anymore?"
"Now Andrew, as I've already explained to you, just because Xander is a few days late doesn't necessarily mean anything bad has happened. He's been late emailing you before, if you'll recall. I will not waste our rather limited resources on your so called, 'spider senses' a second time."
"But Giles! This time is different! This time, they're extra tingly! Xander could be being tortured or eaten as we speak!"
"If neither of us has heard from him after two weeks, then we'll send someone to check on him. Be patient and don't call me again unless you hear from Xander or a full two weeks has passed. If you call me again tomorrow with talk of... of spider senses, or some other such nonsense, I'll be docking your pay for wasting council time! Now, is that entirely clear?"
"But Gi-"
"WAS THAT CLEAR, ANDREW?!"
"Yes, but don't you think..."
"ANDREW!"
Andrew sighed. "Yes Giles. I won't call again until two weeks is up."
"Good Andrew, now I must really be going..."
"But what if my spidey senses get extra, extra tingly? Can I call then?"
There was a click and a dial tone.
Andrew scrunched up his face, looking down at his cell phone. He grumbled, "Well, that was just rude..." What was he going to do? He just knew something horrible had happened to Xander! If he had the free time, he'd do the rescue mission himself, but he had his squad of slayers to oversee in Rome, and he doubted that Giles would grant him a leave of absence.
Someone knocked at the door, making Andrew jump in surprise.
What now?
He scurried over to the door, and squinted through the peek hole. He blinked in shock, and then his face blossomed into a giddy grin, momentarily forgetting about spidey senses and Xander. Throwing open the door, he yelled out, "Spike!!! My bestest best friend! Come in, come in! You're invited! How have you been, buddy? Is Angel here, too?"
"God no, that poncey bastard is off enjoying his shansho on a sunny beach somewhere, no doubt. So where's Buffy, then? I've decided to help with the good fight, saving puppies and the like with you lot again. I need me a good spot of violence, or two."
"Oh, well, Buffy doesn't actually live here anymore, she transferred to England to be at slayer central. Didn't you hear?"
"Bullocks. Peaches told me she was still here.... I could so stake his beating heart!"
"That's weird, I know Buffy sent him an email telling him she went back to the mother country, I wonder if he hasn't checked his in box yet?"
Spike rubbed his forehead, his face crumpled in pain, and mumbled to himself, "Yeah, well, I guess that's what I get for trusting that wanker, isn' it?" Stepping around Andrew's attempt to hug him, he strode over to the sofa and flopped down, shoving pizza boxes and an empty soda can on to the floor. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his black leather coat, tapped one out and lit up. Andrew followed and sat down almost on top of Spike, grinning up at him.
"Hey, Spike, could I try one of those?"
Spike raised an eyebrow, staring at Andrew for an uncomfortable moment.
"Or never mind then..." Andrew said with a small nervous laugh as he slid a bit farther down the sofa, giving Spike a little space. "So why are you looking for Buffy? You know I never told, so they still think you died a hero in good old Sunnydale, right?"
"Yeah, thanks for that, mate... I appreciate it." Spike smiled, his eyes crinkling in genuine warmth. "But I... I need... something... A spot of violence... That's all I need. I'll feel better if I can put my teeth and fists back in the good fight, so I figure hooking back up with the Slayer is the quickest way back in again." Spike leaned back in his seat and went back to his overly fake smile. "So, my bestest best friend, are you going to lend me some dosh to go to England, then? 'Cause you know, that's what a bestest best friend would do." Spike said as he flashed his winning smile at poor Andrew as he puffed away on his cigarette.
Andrew, his mouth twitching a little, smiled back. Talking of England made Andrew think of Giles which in turn, reminded him of his spidey senses and those reminded him of Xander. Xander... he wondered if Spike... No, Spike wouldn't want to go save Xander either... but now that he has a soul and all and he's bored enough to go chasing after Buffy... "Hey, Spike, do you remember that time when Han saved Luke from freezing to death on Hoth?"
Spike groaned and rubbed his forehead again. Would things ever just go his way? Turning with narrowed eyes at Andrew, he said, "If you didn't want to lend me the money, then just say so! Don't go geeking out on me with one of your convoluted stories that you just know will piss me off, you right git."
"No, no that isn't it, Spike! Of course I'll lend you the money! How could I say no to my besty besty! I just thought, instead of going to Buffy to get your next mission, maybe you could use your powers for good saving an old friend first..."
"Huh? What are you going on about, mate?"
"Xander's in trouble. Will you go and save him? I'd go, but I have responsibilities and I can't, but you could! Will you?" Andrew blinked and widened his eyes as he gazed up at Spike.
"First off, me and Harris are the exact opposite of friends. That wanker tied me to a chair in his dank basement; that's just not something you forgive and forget, mate." Spike puffed on his cigarette and contemplated the nervous Andrew with narrowed eyes. "But the whelp's in trouble again, then? Why doesn't Buffy or one of them Scoobies go and pull his tail out of the fire? Why you asking me? I'm more likely to go and laugh at his sorry ass."
"He's your comrade in arms, the Lando to your Solo, you two have bonded on the field of battle! If you don't go, he'll die for sure!"
"You didn't answer my question, Mate." Spike blew smoke in Andrew's direction, making the him cough. Spike asked, "Why aren't the Scoobies going after their doughnut boy?"
"Well... if you must know, Giles doesn't think he's been missing long enough to warrant a rescue mission yet... But my spidey senses are tingly super strong! I just know he's in dire trouble! Please Spike, you just got to save him! He'd do the same for you!"
"No, he wouldn't."
"Yes, he... Ok, yeah, he wouldn't. But your the bigger man! Won't you prove it by saving him?"
"So where is the whelp, exactly?"
"New York City."
"Bugger that! That's nowhere near Buffy, is it now? If Giles thinks he's fine, then he's fine. So will you help me get to jolly old England or not?"
Andrew's face drooped and then an idea struck him and he started grinning. Spike leaned away from the sudden smile, his eye brows shooting up. Andrew pulled out a rather fat wallet from his pocket and said, "I'll pay you."
"I ain't going for no peanuts, mate. You'd have to pay a pretty penny to get me there instead of on my way to see Buffy."
"$500 plus another $500 for pocket money and I'll pay for all the airfare and hotel fees. I'll also get you a ticket to England once Xander is safe again. What do you say?"
"So $1,000, huh? That's nice but $2,000 would be better."
"Spike, come on, Xander is your buddy, your amigo, won't you save him for one?"
"Two or no deal."
"No way! That's too much! Aren't you supposed to be a good guy now?"
"Yeah, well, this doesn't sound like a real mission, so if you want my services, you'll have to pay."
"How about $1,050?"
"Don't insult me, mate!"
"$1,500?"
Spike stood up and walked towards the door.
"Okay, okay, you win! Don't go, I'll give you two. Are you sure you still got a soul in there?"
Spike grinned and flopped back down on the sofa. "Yeah, well, I'm still the Big Bad, aren't I? Got to get my kicks in sometimes."