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HeatherVamped |
Old HabitsI don�t know why I even bother after all this time. It�s a compulsion, I guess. It�s been more than 100 years and I still can�t resist the opportunity to put one over on Spike. In 100 years, I should have learned that it hardly ever works. This time was no different. One of Spike�s great joys in getting his body back was being able to light up a cigarette whenever, and wherever, he chose. Even though I don�t have to breathe, smoke bothers me. At least, it does when I have a soul. It irritates my eyes and makes my hair smell bad. So, I issued an executive order: No smoking in the building. At first it was fun to watch Spike try to deal with the cravings. He jumped at the slightest sounds, snapped at everyone more than usual, and doubled his consumption of my supply of pigs� blood, even though he still claims to hate it. The best part was confiscating a pack of his favorite brand when I caught him trying to sneak a quick drag in the employee lounge. Guess he thought I�d never find him there, since I�m not one for lounging. All the other employees just go outside for smoke breaks when the craving hits during the day. But for Spike, well, a lot more than his cigarette would end up in a pile of ash out there in our California sunshine. My new rule was working out great. Spike was miserable and I was smug. Then he discovered Tootsie Pops and my brief victory fell apart. If I ever find out who introduced him to these things, I will personally break their legs. There could not be a more perfect substance for someone with such a raging oral fixation as Spike has. Well, except a cigarette. I was sitting in the conference room with my top team members, and for some reason, Spike. I sat at the head of the long table with him on my left and Wesley on my right. We were trying to have a meeting about the latest dilemma that threatened to shred our sense of right and wrong down to the bare bone. As usual, the big question was whether to defend our clients in court and try to get them freed in spite of their crimes, or to just kill them. The leaders of their group are tight with the Senior Partners and pay twice our exorbitant fees in exchange for our services of keeping them from being banished from this dimension, no matter what atrocities they perpetrate. I knew that the final decision was mine, but I�m always interested in hearing both sides of the issue. So while Wes was trying to make things fit into his world of good vs evil, our clients being the evil, Gunn and his newly enhanced knowledge of demon laws tried to show me the grey area that would allow us to take the case. Lorne watched us all from the edge of his seat, just waiting to see what sort of public relations disaster I�d instigate this week so he�d know how much work it would take to smooth things over. Fred needed to know if we�d take the case so she could get to work on the forensics. Spike�s job was to just sit there until I told him who to kill. Most days, he�s fine with that. �It was just a bunch of demons they ate, they don�t deserve the death penalty for that,� Gunn insisted, looking to me to agree with him. I waited, knowing Wes would have a counter point. �Yes, but the victims were benevolent demons. Not to mention what they did to the babies of the clan. We must stop our clients before this sort of thing happens again.� �You�re acting like they killed people.� �Murder is murder.� I know more was said, I�m sure of it. But at that moment, Spike, as bored as I was with the proceedings, pulled a Tootsie Pop from one of the numerous pockets in that leather duster he refuses to take off, even indoors. Slouching down in his chair with his legs spread out in front of him, he nosily yanked off the wrapper and tossed it on the floor. I turned to glare at him, and never looked away. The Tootsie Pop was deep pink, strawberry, if I had to guess. He held the stick in his fist as though he needed such a firm grip to hold it up to his mouth. He stuck out his tongue and ran it across the top of the Tootsie Pop quickly, no more than a flicker. I swallowed. Hard. After that first taste, I expected him to just shove it in his mouth and be done with it. But no, of course not. Next, he licked slowly around the circumference of the pop, making its entire surface wet and shiny. When I could tear my eyes away from his mouth for a moment, I saw that he was looking straight at me. He lowered his treat long enough to give me a wicked grin. I tried to return my focus to the meeting, horrified that he knew exactly what I was thinking. Who would�ve thought that he still remembered all the ways I�d made him use that tongue so long ago? The boy knows how to hold a grudge, I�ll give him that. I told myself I needed to hear what was being said about my clients, but Spike wasn�t done with me yet. I later discovered that there is an advertisement for these candies that asks the consumer how many licks it takes to get to the center. I�m pretty sure I now have the resources to send the person who came up with that little slogan straight to hell. I�m looking into it. Meanwhile, Spike seemed intent on calculating the answer right in the middle of the meeting in front of my unwilling eyes. Every time his tongue swirled around that little pink ball on a stick I could feel my pants getting tighter. The damned thing never seemed to get any smaller, no matter what he did to it. After a few minutes, he changed tactics. He pushed it into his mouth until his lips closed on the stick, just below the candy and above his closed fist. I could see his throat working as he sucked and swallowed. The entire time, his eyes never left my face. The sound of my name being said registered on some level of my consciousness, though it was a level very far away from where I was sitting, watching Spike. He pulled the Tootsie Pop out between his lips until it was almost completely visible, and then curled his tongue around it to bring it back in for another suck. �Angel?� I think that was Wes. Out came the sucker. �Angel, you alright man?� Definitely Gunn that time. Couldn�t they see I had better things to focus on? In went the sucker, mesmerizing me. �Hey, Angel cakes! Earth to the boss man!� Even Lorne was on my case. Out. Fingers snapped in front of my face. I ignored them, no longer caring if anyone figured out my issue. My world consisted of nothing but a wet candy and a sticky tongue. In. A hand waved before my eyes. I might have accidentally crushed it. That would explain the looks I�ve been getting and the bandage Wes has been wearing. Out. �Do you think he could be catatonic?� Ah, a diagnosis from our scientist. In. Spike could hardly hold it in his mouth anymore with the face-splitting grin he was trying desperately to suppress. Just when I was sure that I was doomed to run from the room or split my slacks, I heard a lethal crunch. The hard candy shell was breached. I blinked and glanced around to see all my friends wearing matching looks of concern. Spike wore a look of supreme innocence as he sat there, chewing on the center of his Tootsie Pop. I have no idea how many licks it took him to get there, but it was enough to distract me so badly that I made the wrong choice on that case. We killed our clients only to discover that the demons they ate are now multiplying out of control and are forced to kill surrounding clans to make room for all their babies. There was only one solution, much as it pained me to admit it. A few minutes ago, I found Spike lounging in, where else, the employee lounge. I threw him his damned cigarettes. Back |
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