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DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Except Timmy.
SUMMARY: Pranks are played, but it's all for a good cause. ;-)
WORDCOUNT: 3025
A.N.: So this story was Jossed last week. Oh well, add some denial to the fluff.
For Dragonqueen at the B/A
Fluffathon.
PRANK
by Leni
When Buffy opened the door to find a medium sized package and a sweaty postman behind it,
she smiled and remembered that Willow had promised to send some magazines which weren't
issued in Rome.
When Buffy didn't find the name of the addresser, she shrugged and thought that Willow
could be a powerful witch, but she still was too distracted for her own good.
When she opened the box and found, instead of her beloved Vogues, a white tissue which
obviously protected something delicate, her eyebrows shot upwards. Maybe this was a
super-early birthday present? Xander was known to do things like this, he knew that she
didn't particularly like to celebrate her birthday on its rightful day.
When the protection was cast apart and all that remained was her gift, Buffy blinked
twice.
What the...?
When the vision before her didn't disappear, she giggled and then broke into an endless
laugh.
Dawn came back two hours later to find her sister still snickering over the box.
---
"Good morning. Wolfram and Hart main office. This better be important, it's too early
to begin to work," Harmony muttered annoyed when she found the phone already ringing
as she approached her desk.
"Is Angel there?"
Harmony rolled her eyes. Everybody knew that her boss was a worrywart who wouldn't step
out of his office but to save the world and, occasionally, sleep. "Where else?"
"Well, connect me with his office," said the impatient voice on the other side.
Now Harmony did recognise that voice, she had heard the same inflection many times in her
highschool days. "Buffy?"
Silence.
Harmony huffed. "Some months in Europe and a couple Apocalypses and suddenly your old
friends aren't enough anymore."
"Harmony?" A sigh. "Harmony, we were never friends. We tried to kill each
other, remember? And that was before you were turned."
"Oh. Right." Those had been good times when she could still hunt and kill. Oh
well, Harmony thought as she petted her little unicorn, the corporate life has its upsides
too. "I'll connect you-"
"Wait. Does Angel have a fax machine in his office?"
Harmony thought about it for a second. "No."
"Go get one."
Harmony stared at the receiver. "Pardon me? Slayer or not, I don't w--"
"Look, Harmony. Angel will ask you the same in a couple minutes anyway, you'll save
us all time if you find one now."
Her fingers tapped on the desk as she thought about it. Buffy never ever called during
office hours, but she had her sources (i.e. that Gyhk demon down in Comm) and she knew
that the usual weekly transatlantic call could last hours. If Angel was busy talking to
the Slayer, then she'd be free to do what she wanted. Harmony finally shrugged and decided
that that was good enough reason for her.
"I'll go for it. You make sure the boss is too busy to need me until lunch
hour."
"Deal."
---
Timmy loved his job. It didn't matter that it was the only decent job he could find in the
city, he understood that it was a difficult time for demons, especially Gyhk, who couldn't
blend in with the humans. Besides, there were certain perks to his position (apart from
his paycheque): fresh rabbit meat and endless white chocolate down the aisle, no annoying
sunshine seeping into his office and, of course, he had complete access to every single
conversation within the building. In fact, he was quite sure that the only reason he'd
been hired was the presence of more than hundred earlobes over his body.
Many had laughed when he left the cadre for the real world. Well, this would teach them
that there was a market for every 'liability'.
In the centre of the machine before him, a big red button blinked to life. Timmy sighed.
It was the big cheese. Unlike everybody else, that vampire used his official line only for
official matters. That could be so bo-ring. Timmy remembered that just moments ago the
phone at the pretty blonde's desk had been used; as much as he loved to hear her voice, he
knew from experience that it was only some client asking for a meeting. Again, bo-ring.
But, as unfair things go in life, it was his duty to hear to the C.E.O.'s conversations.
It was in his contract even, right after the 'warning' should he be tempted to share
inside information with anyone outside the company. With a final long-suffering sigh,
Timmy decided he couldn't put it off any more, and held the respective receiver to his
thigh.
"What is so important it can't wait?"
Oh. Ooooh! This was good. He recognised that tone of voice from midnight calls from the
suite's private line. That voice could only mean Slayer.
"Oh, I couldn't wait to tell you you're the sweetest man on Earth."
He blinked. Broody and Boring could be sweet? Huh?
"Huh?"
"Yes, Angel, don't play dumb." Timmy had heard her voice for months already, yet
it had never included that carefree note before. Was that laughter hidden underneath?
"I also wanted to let you know that your present arrived safely. Though you probably
know that by now."
"My... present."
The Slayer was too enthused to pick on the hesitance in his words, but Timmy did. This was
turning interesting, he thought.
"Yes." Pause. "I decided to take it outside, to show it the sights."
She giggled. "I took pictures too and they are so cute that you just have to
see them!"
"O-kay..."
Timmy heard a knock on the door and then the angelic voice he so loved. "Boss? Where
should I put this thing?"
"Uh."
"It's Harmony, isn't it? Does she have the fax machine with her?"
"Uh huh."
"Then install it, silly!"
For several minutes Timmy heard nothing but some annoyed muttering in the background. He
snickered at the thought of the centuries-old vampire dealing with a fax machine, then
sobered when he realised that his beautiful Harmony was stuck there too. Should he run
upstairs and offer his help? Just as he was about to disconnect himself - if anyone asked
he needed a bathroom break - Harmony's voice came loud and clear. "There. Now tell
your girlfriend that she could send an email too. There's this thing called
Internet..."
The Slayer was quick to reply, "Tell your secretary that it's none of her business,
but if she needs to know I couldn't find an empty e-café and I needed you to take a look
at these pictures ASAP."
A loud sigh came through the connection. That had to be the boss caught in the crossfire.
There were sounds of the door opening and closing again and then Angel's voice down the
receiver. "Alright, Buffy, everything's ready. Send it, whatever it is."
"Okay. And, Angel? This is the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me."
Before he could answer there was a 'clink' and next came the usual sounds from a fax
machine at work.
When it finished, the Slayer's unusually perky voice began again. "The first is at
the Plaza, sitting on a bench and watching the sunrise. I had to get up early that day but
it was worth it, don't you think?"
Silence.
"The others are taken throughout the day. I took it everywhere I could think
of, I swear."
No comments.
"Dawn took the last picture. She insisted I should appear in at least one shot. We
are on one of the oldest bridges in the city, can't remember the name. It's beautiful,
isn't it?"
Nothing.
"That gift was so thoughtful of you. I mean, I know you cannot come here because of
your work and I promise I won't bitch about that now, but this..." At that moment
Timmy could have sworn that the Slayer was tearing up. "It was just so sweet,"
she finished in a whisper.
More silence.
"Angel?"
...
"Angel? You still there?"
A growl gained volume as it went. Uh oh, something was wrong.
"Grrrr..."
Very wrong.
"Ang---"
"SPIKE!"
The line went dead.
Timmy dislodged the receiver pensively, tucking it back in its cradle. He looked at it for
a long time, ignoring all other calls. Finally he decided that he couldn't possibly not
know what came next. He'd go upstairs later, ask Harmony about it. After all, he told her
every detail of the late night conversations. It was only fair she'd share whatever was
happening at the office.
---
Being summoned by Angel was something Spike would gleefully ignore. Walking away when the
older vampire called him was almost a hobby for him. But apparently it wasn't his lucky
day.
He'd just come to Harm's desk to sweet talk her into taking a long 'lunch hour' when his
name was bellowed by the pansy inside.
Spike ran his hand through his hair and decided to play it cool. Experience told him that
if he retreated with no fuss---
Too late.
The door flew open and Angel fixed him with a stare which reminded him uncomfortably of
the first time he'd crossed the vampire, more than a century ago.
At his right, Harmony peeped something about needing a drink and scurried out of the
scene. Spike frowned after her. Coward.
"You. Inside. Now." That said, he furiously retreated back into the office.
No option left, Spike straightened and sauntered after his grandsire. "I'm on a
schedule," he drawled after closing the door behind him. "Make it fast."
A fist against the mahogany desk and a snarl were his answer before Angel turned around to
face him. The vampire before Spike wasn't his goody-two-shoes boss, neither was he the
soulless vampire he'd feared for decades. This was... Spike struggled to remember where
he'd seen that exact expression before. Oh yes, eight years ago when Angel had been
chained at Drusilla's mercy and Spike had threatened to kill the Sl-- His eyes rolled. Of
course, this was Mr. Buffy in the flesh and damned if he didn't look angry.
Papers flew toward him and Spike managed to catch one of them before it fell to the floor
with the others. A blank page?
"Turn it around."
So much growling couldn't be healthy, Spike thought offhandedly. But he did as Angel said
and - he snorted in laughter. "I'd forgotten how tiny you were," he chuckled
when the urge to laugh aloud subsided.
Angel glowered.
"Didn't know you went out for a walk," Spike continued, ignoring the other
vampire. "Guess sunshine couldn't hurt you in that state, huh?" He threw the
black and white picture back at Angel. "Nice shots, mate, now what's your problem
with me?"
Silence as Spike could practically feel Angel's murderous eyes on him. "Buffy sent
those," finally came through clenched teeth.
His eyebrows shot upwards. So that was why the sire was acting so strangely... He had been
called here because Angel thought... Oh no. That way lay stakes and holy water. He shook
his head heartily. "Oh no," his lips chorused his thoughts, "I'm not at
fault here."
The wordless glaring continued.
"I didn't do that. Why would I send her pictures of your fuzzier self? Wait. I
would."
A louder growl.
"But I didn't," he quickly backtracked.
"Something like this", Angel clutched the last piece in his hand,
"happens and you expect me to believe you aren't behind it?"
Spike raised his hands in a defensive posture. "Absolutely not. I was busy that day
too, remember? No time to play candid camera." He looked at the fallen pictures and
laughed again. "Though it was a great idea."
Angel looked at him dubiously.
"Come on, decades together and you can't tell when I'm lying. I'm wounded." He
pressed a hand to his heart. "Really, I am."
Eyes narrowed to study him. Sensing that immediate danger was over, Spike slowly backed
away. "It wasn't my idea, Angel, I swear." He turned around and opened the door.
"Tell me when you find your man," he shot before leaving, "I'd like to
treat the bastard to a beer or two."
Angel heard him laughing as soon as the door closed and considered going against him
again. Sigh. No, it wasn't worth the hassle. Damn. Spike was right, he always could tell
when the blonde was lying. You don't learn from a master and not let him know all your
tricks. Angel definitely knew all of Spike's tricks.
Still, if it hadn't been Spike then who? Now he felt strangely relieved that he'd kept the
last picture to himself. He grudgingly smiled when he looked down into Buffy's laughing
face. If Spike wasn't the culprit then he didn't need to know that it hadn't been pictures
what had been sent to her. He folded the paper carefully and tucked it in his shirt
pocket. Buffy had called him sweet, he remembered, and he'd done nothing to deserve it.
Angel frowned. Maybe he should do something nice for real. Point for the prankster
for showing him that, despite her protests, Buffy still liked 'sweet' and 'cute'.
He sighed for a last time and decided that staying his office wouldn't solve this mystery.
He left and told an incoming Harmony to call Maintenance to take care of the mess on his
floor. His next step would be Correspondence, some answers were liable to be found there.
---
The next day Timmy was on a real bathroom break when the big red button blinked back to
life. In fact, had Timmy had a colleague in the room, it would have been noticed that
every time he left, a call to Italy was placed, and not by the rightful owner of that
office.
"What?!" a female asked in a decidedly unhappy voice.
"Lovely as always, ain't you?"
"Spike." A sigh. "It's almost midnight here, this better be good."
"It worked."
There was a blunt sound like someone hitting the receiver against flesh. "Of course
it did."
"I've seen the big guy ordering chocolate," he chuckled. "Tons of it."
"Oh yeah?" Her voice sounded slightly more awake and much more interested now.
"Do we already see Big Sis sharing the goods?"
She giggled.
"Anyway, it went exactly as you said. As soon as your sister 'thanked' him, Angel
went berserk and called me in."
"He blamed you?" There was a mix of curiosity and worry in her words, not even
she would have known which one won.
You could almost hear the careless shrug in his next sentence. "He had no
proof."
She chuckled. "So, you lied."
"I can't lie to Angel. Not even if I wanted," he snorted. "I just told him
that it hadn't been my idea."
"Trust you to bend the truth, of course."
"Well, after hunting for clues in the whole building, he finally gave up and now is
too busy buying Godiva stock for his girl. I even heard Harmony complaining because she
already had too much work in her agenda to go book a fly to Italy." He refrained from
telling her exactly how and when he'd gotten that last information. "Gotta admit it,
Bit, that was a perfect manoeuvre. You played him good."
"That's me," a smug voice answered, "Dawn, the vampire player."
Silence. Then a soft chuckle.
"That didn't come out well, did it?"
Spike sniggered. "No, love, it didn't." He stopped the teasing because he knew
she'd just get annoyed and hang up, he still wanted to know a couple of things.
"Everything alright on your end?"
"Yep. She's smiling and even laughing randomly. It's very creepy," she confided.
"She's even mentioned going back to California, even if only for a few days. She
didn't say L.A. but..."
"But it can't be long until they break that stupid 'Let's wait until we're ready'
rule," he completed her sentence. Spike hoped so, at least. Things were tense enough
at Wolfram and Hart to add a sensitive, moody boss to the mix.
"A couple weeks, tops," Dawn assured him.
"Finally. Those two are dimensions past ready." Spike sighed. "If I have to
suffer through another 'I didn't talk to Buffy tonight and I'll go crazy if she doesn't
come back' tantrum I'll..."
"I know, I know, you're in this only because Angel's behaviour is annoying you."
He shook his head and then realised she couldn't see him. "No, Dawn, I'm in this only
because you asked. I'd have staked him long ago otherwise."
She laughed. "Thanks. I think."
Spike laughed too, then sobered when he heard Angel's voice down the hall. "Love,
Angie's almost here."
"Okay, by-"
"Wait, the spell is still in place, isn't it?"
"Yes Spike," she answered for what seemed the hundredth time. Sometimes Dawn
thought that he didn't trust her abilities. Besides, this was only a simple spell she'd
used in Sunnydale when she had wanted to protect her privacy from her sister and her
friends. "There's no way a call from that phone to this one can be eavesdropped.
Angel won't ever guess we've been plotting right under his nose."
"Just making sure. Take care, Bit."
"You t-" He hung up. Dawn sighed. "You too, Spike," she finished into
the empty receiver.
Rubbing her sleepy eyes, Dawn took great care not to make any noise as she hung up too.
Buffy had always been a light sleeper. As it was, it was a miracle the ringing hadn't
woken her up. Because it hadn't, had it?
Dawn sat straight and her eyes widened. It'd be just like her sister to let her believe
she was safe and then retaliate. They had a history in revenge already. Oh, she'd
personally stake Spike if that happened. Now she had to make sure everything was alright.
On her tiptoes she left her room, crossed the aisle and cracked the bedroom door open.
She sighed in relief.
Buffy was still deeply asleep, covers thrown aside and limbs taking over the whole bed.
Except for her right arm.
Dawn couldn't help a soft giggle when she noticed the dark-haired puppet snugly tucked
against Buffy's chest.
Only a couple weeks more to go, she thought happily before going back to her room.
The End.
09/05/04
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