Spike stared out over the sprawling city from his vantage point of the necro-tempered glass window's in his grandsire's office. Unconsciously flexing his newly healed hands as his mind wandered. He hated being in the building almost as much as his negligent family member hated him being there. He wished the bloody doctor's would just get done with his release papers, so he could head back to his apartment. Andrew's appearance had bought back too many ghosts, and his new found resolve to leave Buffy to the new life he had ‘died' for was being sorely tested.
When Harmony poked her head in the office, Spike gave an inward sigh of relief, assuming his papers were the reason for her entrance.
"Bossy," the brainless blond simpered, "you and some guy, called Randy Giles, have a messenger, but I can't find this Randy guy in the staff directory."
"Send them in, Harmony," Angel sighed in resignation, wondering once again why he kept the little ditz around. With his gaze firmly set towards the door, the brunette failed to notice that his irritating grandchilde seemed suddenly frozen in place.
Harmony gestured to someone before opening the door a little wider, allowing the messenger entrance.
While Angel may not have recognised the messenger, Spike, sure as hell did. But, he was completely confused by the blank expression he was confronted with. He didn't know the man well enough to pick up on the mirth that danced in the dark eyes that, for all appearances, seemed to dismiss the blond before turning to the brunette.
"Mr. Angel?" A pleasant baritone voice questioned. At Angel's nod of acknowledgment, the messenger handed him the gaily wrapped package he had been holding. "My employer asked me to pass on a message after you had opened that," he said, while indicating the, as yet, unopened package.
"Your employer?" Angel questioned calmly as his hand hovered over the gift.
"Miss Buffy Summers," the tall, dark skinned, messenger answered.
Angel gave him a genuine smile as he began removing the wrapper, but not failing to send a smug grin to Spike before turning his attention back to the now unwrapped box.
His jaw dropped in shock as his brain registered exactly what it was he had received from his forever love.
"Miss Summers' message was, and I quote, ‘Enjoy your evil empire, Angel. These are the only cookies you will ever be getting from me.'" The messenger smirked at the gob-smacked brunette before smoothly turning back to the highly amused blond.
"You were right," he began, "you aren't the monster that killed my mother, in fact, knowing what I do about mom, she would have been proud to know you," Robin Wood offered, noting with amusement that he'd managed to gob-smack two vampires in under a minute.
Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small cassette player. "This message is for you, Randy," he smirked in amusement as he pressed play.
Spike's eyes opened in wonder as the show tune began to play, and Robert Preston began to sing: '76 trombones led the big parade, with 110 cornets close at hand'.
"She said that if that didn't tell you all you needed to know, I was to tell you that your nose and her fist had a meeting coming and she'd be pouting while she wondered when you were ‘gonna get it'.
Spike blinked back his tears and offered a grin to the man that had once tried to kill him.
Letting a hotel key dangle from his fingers, Robin chuckled as the black and blond blur smoothly removed the key from his unresisting grasp before disappearing completely through the office door.
Robin casually placed his hand in his pant's pocket as he turned to face the still in shock vampire that remained. However before he could address the seated brunette, he froze for a moment, before slowing pulling something from his pocket.
"Damn...I gave him the wrong key," he muttered before quickly pulling out his cell phone. "Buffy is gonna kill me!"