Escape

Escape by Frenchie

Chapter 1 - Over the Phone

Posted: 10.11.04

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~~
Here's how it goes, you and me, up and down but maybe this time
We'll get right, worth the fight
Cause love is something you can't shake
When it breaks
All it takes is some trying
~~

“I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die,” Andrew repeats over and over to himself as he huddles in a little ball next to the airplane window.

Dawn groans and looks up from her magazine to glare at him, “For the love of all things holy, Andrew,” she says, “Shut the hell up, or you’re going to die sooner than expected!” she flicks her wrist so that the magazine hits him hard in the side of his face.

This only makes Andrew cry out like a little five-year-old toddler and he begins to sob, “He’s going to kill me!” he says, burying his face in his hands, “Snap my neck and drain me dry!” he grabs the blanket off of Buffy’s empty seat and uses it to cover his face.

Dawn rolls her eyes and turns back to her magazine.

Andrew sniffles, and turns to look out the window, “Good-bye cru-elle world. It is my somber fate that I shall never again look at the rolling green fields of Texas!”

“South Dakota,” Dawn corrects without looking up from her magazine.

Andrew wails loudly and throws himself onto the back of the seat in front of him, “South Dakota!” he cries, “The lovely green pastures and bustling cities will never again the the likes of me!”

Dawn inhales deeply and tries to control her temper. Most of the passengers around them are staring at the spectacle of Andrew now, and the stewardesses look as if they’re about to come out and beat him with bags of peanuts.

“Andrew!” Dawn yells, “Have you ever even been to South Dakota?!” she snaps.

Andrew turns and stares at her, his eyes red and puffy from crying, and snot threatening to drip from his nose, “No,” he sniffs, “And I never will be!” he breaks into another loud wail, and begins to beat on the seat in front of him.

“My big mouth!” he cries, “Not evern abn able to keep a secret! Spike should’ve known that!” he begins to hit his head off the headrest of his seat, still blubbering.

Just when Dawn’s about to attempt to rip his throat out with her bare hands, Buffy appears next to her, her arms crossed over her chest and glaring in the direction of Andrew, “What the hell is his problem?” she demands.

“He thinks Spike’s gonna kill him,” Dawn answers, looking back down at her magazine.
Buffy seems to stiffen at the mention of Spike, but her anger and embarrassment because of Andrew keeps it from being too obvious.

“Andrew, I swear to God, if you don’t shut the hell up, you won’t have to worry about Spike killing you!” she slides past Dawn and into the middle seat, settling down between them.

“Where’s my blanket?” she demands.

Andrew sheepishly holds it out to her, ahe ghe grabs it without looking, spreading it across her lap and leaning her head back, trying to clear her mind and calm her nerves.

“Better be careful,” Dawn says, still not looking up from the magazine, “he wiped his boogers on it.”

Buffy’s eyes snap open, and she throws the blanket off of her and back onto Andrew.

“You wiped your face with my blanket?!” she yells.

Andrew scoots as close to the wall as he can possibly get, “Actually, its the airline’s blanket. You’re just using it for this flight.”

Buffy gapes at him for a moment before saying, “Well I don’t think the airline is going to want it back now! Not after you blew your nose in it!” she yells this louder than she intended to, and a stewardess grimaces at them as she walks past.

“Nonsense!” Andrew says, looking down at the blanket, “People do disgusting things with this airplane junk all the time! I bet every single one of the blankets on this craft has had someone’s nose blown in it, at least once.”

The man in the seat in front of him looks down at his blanket in disgust, and then slowly pushes it off his lap.

Buffy throws Andrew one last glare before turning back around to face the front, where she pretends to gain interest in the soundless movie that’s playing on the televisions above the walkway.

They’re all quiet for a few minutes, Dawn reading her magazine, Buffy’s mind wandering, and Andrew being too afraid to say anything.

All the other passengers seem to sigh in relief. The three crazy people near the back are finally quiet, and they can all rest.

“So are you gonna call or just show up there?” Andrew asks suddenly, making Buffy and Dawn both jump.

A few of the passengers groaned.

“I don’t know,” Buffy snaps, “But I can’t call Spike, I can’t do something like that over the phone.”

Her mind slips back to memories of this morning, when her, Dawn and Andrew had been sitting around the breakfast table, eating some type of popular Italian cereal (that was mostly all sugar. Some things stay the same no matter what country you go to) and he had somehow slipped about Spike. She wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, because she hadn’t really been paying attention. It had been Dawn who had caught him and forced him to tell thuth.uth.

After that, they had thrown together some essentials and shoved them in duffel bags. Buffy had called the airport and asked for flight times to Los Angeles, and reserved some tickets for that afternoon.

And now here they were. Sitting on a US Airways’ 747 heading back to the place Buffy had never wanted to go near again.

“Well you should at least call Angel,” Andrew says, wrapping the blt art around his shoulders, “I mean, you can’t just show up.”

Buffy opens her mouth to ask why the hell not, but Dawn speaks first.

“He’s right,” she says, “You should call. I mean, just to be polite.”

Buffy’s jaw drops, “Polite?!” she yells, “You want me to be polite?!”

The two of them stare at her expectantly, and she huffs, reaching forward to pull the little phone out of its cubby on the back of the seat in front of Dawn.

“Fine she says, “I’ll call and be polite,” she reaches forward the hits the buttons on the keypad, and is surprised to find that she mbermbers the number. She had only seen it once, but for some reason, it feels like something that she dials every day.

She hesitates before hitting the final number, and turns to look over at Dawn. Dawn nods toward the phone, urging her on.

Buffy takes a deep breath and hits it.

The phone rings twice before someone picks up.

“Wolfram and Hart Law Offices, this is Harmony speaking.”

Buffy’s jaw drops.

“Harmony?!” she screeches.

Andrew and Dawn both rush to cover their ears, as do several other passengers.

“Jesus piss, Buffy,” Dawn glares at her.

Buffy ignores her, though and continues to try and recover from her shock.

“Um…who is this?” Harmony asks slowly.

Buffy snaps her mouth shut and shakes her head, “Transfer me to Angel,” she orders.

“Sorry, he’s not taking calls right now. Who is this?” she asks again.

“Harmony,” Buffy says through gritted teeth, “Transfer. Me. To. Angel.”

“No.” Harmony snaps hotly, “Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you can’t…”

Buffy cuts her off, “HARMONY! I SWEAR TO GOD! IF YOU DON’T TRANSFER ME TO ANGEL RIGHT THIS FREAKING SECOND, I’M GOING TO STAKE YOU SO HARD WHEN I GET THERE, THERE WON’T EVEN BE ENOUGH OF YOU LEFT TO BE CONSIDERED DUST!”

Harmony’s silent for a minute, “Oh. My. God,” she says finally, “Buffy?”

“Yeah!” Buffy says, “Now transfer me to Angel,,” Buffy takes a few deeps breaths to calm herself.

Harmony is about to say ‘no’, but thinks better of it, and hits the button for the intercom in Angel’s office.

“Angel?” she says.

Angel, whose sitting on his desk, having a meeting with Gunn and Wesley sighs, “What Harmony?” he asks, sounding exasperated.

“Um…you have a phone call.”

Angel’s shoulders droop in frustration, “Harmony, what part of ‘no calls’ don’t you understand?” he asks.

Gunn and Wesley are standing in front of him, both holding files and looking very impatient.

“Oh, I think you want this one.”

Angel looks up at Gunn and Wesley sympathetically, and they both nod. Angel turns back to the phone, “Fine Harmony, put it through.”

There’s a pause as Harmony hits the button, and for a moment everything is silent.

Then…

“YOU LYING LITTLE SON OF A BITCH!” Buffy’s voice screams through the speakerphone.

Back on the airplane, Dawn and Andrew both cringe and continue to cover their ears.

Buffy hasn’t even begun yet.

“I SWEAR, IF I HAD KNOWN THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU…”

Gunn and Wesley look between each other, both wearing equal expressions of confusion and a bit of fear. Then they both look back at Angel, who stares at the phone, looking as if he s tos to hang up, but is too afraid of the consequences.

“AND NOW THIS!” she yells, “WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU NEGLECTED TO TELL ME ANGEL? ARE YOU MARRIED?! DO YOU HAVE KIDS?! IS CALIFORNIA STILL ATTACHED TO THE UNITED STATES?! HAS ANYONE ELSE BEEN RESSURRECTED LATELY?!”

“Buffy,” Dawn says tentatively, “Maybe you should let Angel talk?” she suggests, preparing to get slapped.

Buffy glares at her, but does nothing else, “Oh, I’ll let him talk!” the volume of her voice has come down a level, but she’s still yelling.

Angel bites his lip and stares down at the phone, unsure of what to say.

“Maybe we should…” Gunn starts.

“No!” Angel spins around and looks at them with pleading eyes, “Don’t leave! beg begs, and anyone listening on the other side of his office door would have thought Buffy was standing in front of him with a stake in her hand instead of bitching him out over the phone.

Wesley and Gunn look between each other, and then reluctantly turn away from the door.

“ANGEL!” Buffy’s voice booms through the speaker, “YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO EXPLAINRSELRSELF BEFORE I…PHONE ZAP YOU!”

On the plane, Andrew looks over at Dawn and mouths ‘Phone zap?’ Dawn shrugs.

“Buffy, listen…” Angel starts, “I don’t know how you found out about Spike, but…”

“HOW I FOUND OUT!? I’LL TELL YOU HOW I FOUND OUT!” she looks over at Andrew, “YOU MORONS THOUGHT ANDREW COULD KEEP HIS MOUTH SHUT! THAT’S HOW!”

Andrew cringes, “Don’t make it worse! Spike’s already gonna kill me!” he pleads.

Buffy ignores him, “I SWEAR, WHEN I GET TO LA, ANGEL, YOU’RE GONNA BE DUST IN A MATCHBOX BEFORE YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT HIT YOU!”

A flight attendant cautiously makes her way up to Buffy’s seat. She’s been voted as the one to get the insane little blonde lady to shut up by the other flight attendants, and she isn’t too happy about it. But she has a job to do, so she reaches out and taps Buffy on the shoulder.

“Miss…could you quiet down a bit?” she asks, taking a step back as Buffy whips around to face her.

“HELLO!” Buffy says, annoyed, “IN THE MIDDLE OF A BITCH-FEST HERE! DO YOU MIND?” she asks, before turning back around.

Back in LA, Angel’s still cringing next to his phone, and Gunn and Wesley are still shifting around uncomfortably. And just when Angel’s sure things can’t get any worse, the doors to his office burst open.

Spike saunters into the room, a cigarette dangling between his lips, “What the piss is going on in here?” he asks, “Heard a lot of bitchy screaming. For a minute, thought it was…”

Angel closes his eyes and begins to massage his temples, “This is my punishment,” he mutters, and then looks down at the phone.

“If you’ll just listen,” he says.

“Listen?!” Buffy’s voice screams though the phone, “I’ve been listening!”

“Actually, he’s barely gotten a word out.”

“Shut up, Dawn.”

Spike freezes, “Buffy?” he asks.

Buffy stops yelling at Dawn, and for a minute, she forgets to breathe.

“Spike?” Buffy says quietly.

Spike looks over at Angel, who has his face in his hands and is muttering to himself about how he knew he shouldn’t have killed those nuns.

Gunn leans over to Wesley and whispers, “Do you think we can sneak out without getting caught?”

Wesley nods and they slowly begin to make their way towards the door. They get there, and begin to push the door open, but it creaks loudly, and they both freeze.

Angel’s head snaps up out of his hands, “Where are you going?” he asks.

“We um…” Gunn starts, and then looks at Wesley.

“Uh…” Wes’ mind rushes for ideas, “We believe this is a private matter and we shouldn’t be present.”

Angel stares at them for a moment and then nods, “You’re probably right,” he agrees, “We’ll finish later.”

Wes nods, and he and Gunn both rush out the door faster than they meant to.

Went they’re out of the office, and the door’s closed behind them, Gunn shakes his head, “Damn, if she’s that bad on the phone I’d hate to see what she’s like face to face.”

Back in Angel’s office, Spike and Angel both stare at each other in silence.

“Why?” Spike mouths, pointing to the phone.

Angel shrugs and shakes his head, walking behind his desk and flopping down into the chair. He begins to rub his temples again, taking deep breaths and counting to ten. After doing this for a few more seconds, he reaches forward, and picks up the receiver, cautiously bringing it to his ear.

“Buffy,” he starts, “Could you please calm the hell down and listen for two seconds?”

Almost as if someone hit a switch, she’s screaming again.

It’s so loud, Spike can still make out every word she’s saying.

“…Can’t believe you didn’t call me!” she says, “And Wolfram and Hart? What the hell are you thinking, Angel?”

“Buffy…” Angel tries.

“…back stabbing, little piece of…”

“BUFFY!”

And then Angel explodes, and they’re both yelling. On the plane, the stewardesses are glaring in their direction, and Dawn is politely trying to tell them to fuck off.

Spike sighs and shakes his head, before walking around Angel’s desk and reaching out for the phone, “Give it to me,” he orders.

Angel glares up at him, and continues screaming.

“…Unwillingly to compromise with anyone! You won’t even listen to a word that anyone else has to say!” he yells.

Spike grabs a hold it and begins to tug it away from Angel’s ear.

“Give me the bloody phone!” he rips it out of his hands and glares at him.

Angel glares back as Spike slowly lifts the receiver to his ear. Buffy’s still yelling, and he winces at the effect it has on his eardrums.

“Buffy, love calm down…” he says slowly.

And just like that, she stops, and is suddenly at a loss for words.

Dawn who is now standing in the aisle arguing with the flight attendant from earlier stops, and turns to look at Buffy, who is suddenly completely silent. Andrew sighs in relief and lets his hands fall from his ears as he slumps back against the seat.

Spike looks down at Angel, who has laid his head down on his desk and is counting again.

Dawn gives the flight attendant a smart-alleck smile, and then sits back down in her seat, crossing her arms as the flight lady sticks her nose up in the air and returns back to the front of the plane. Dawn watches her go, and then looks over at Buffy, who still hasn’t said a word.

“You still there, pet?” Spike asks.
ffy ffy nods, her brain too jumbled to realize he can’t see her. Dawn rolls her eyes and pokes her hard in arm, “Talk!” she demands.

Buffy opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. So she tries again, only all she gets is a ‘how?’. She frowns after she hears herself say it, because that’s not what her brain had been thinking at all.

Spike smiles, “Long story,” he says, and pauses as he looks down at the caller ID on Angel’s phone.

“Are you on your way here?” he asks suddenly, sounding slightly alarmed.

“Yeah,” Buffy says her voice becoming a bit more casual, “We’ll be landing in a few minutes, I think.”

Spike stutters for a minute, “Why?” he asks finally, as he slaps Angel over the head.

Angel opens his eyes and glares at him. Spike gestures for him to move out of the chair. Angel argues for a moment, before Spike hisses, ‘get!’, and Angel gives in and stands up. He walks over and drops down onto the couch, resting his head in his hands, just as Spike sits down in the chair.

“Because Andrew has a big mouth,” Buffy answers, leaning back into her seat.

“Andrew?” Spike asks, “Is he with you?”

“Ah huh.”

“Tell him that when he gets here, I’m going to break his neck and drain him dry.”

Buffy turns to Andrew, who is flipping through Dawn’s magazine, “Spike says he’s going to break your neck and drain you dry,” she says casually, before facing forward again.

Andrew’s eyes widen, and he looks up at her in alarm.

“But it wasn’t my fault!” he cries, before bursting into tears again and covering his face with the magazine.

“Ew!” Dawn says, reaching over and taking it from him, “Don’t put your face on my magazine!”

“Please,” Andrew says, his voice pleading like he’s moments away from getting beheaded, “Let me have one more look at Justen before my life comes to a tragic end!”

Dawn ignores him and begins to shove the magazine into her carry-on bag.

“Buffy,” she says as she fights with it, “We’re about to land.”

Buffy ignores her as she bursts into a fit of giggles like a teenaged girl on the phone with her first crush.

Spike, who is leaning back in Angel’s chair with his feet propped up on the desk, grins at the sound of her laughter. He hasn’t heard that in a long time.

When she stops, Buffy sighs and switches the phone to her other ear. There’s silence for a moment before she quietly says, “I missed you.”

Spike can’t help but smile. It wasn’t ‘I love you’, but it still touched him.

“I missed you, too.”

Buffy is about to ask why he didn’t come find her, but Dawn pokes her again, “Buffy, the plane’s landing,” she says gently, “You need to get off.”

“Oh,” Buffy says, “Right…uh…I got to go,” she says.

“Tell her I’ll have a limo there to pick her up,” Angel says suddenly, her forehead still resting in his hands.

Spike nods, a bit unnerved by the fact that Angel’s been eavesdropping, but decides to wait until after they hang up to complain, “Angel says he’ll have someone there to pick you up,” he tells Buffy.

Buffy’s face fills with anger again, “No,” she says, “I don’t want his help.”

Spike sighs, “It’ll go faster if you just take the limo,” he offers.

Buffy doesn’t want to, but agrees, just because she knows that it’d be a hassle to rent a car and get directions on her own, “Fine…I’ll see you in a little bit then?”

“Mhm,” Spike answers, “Not like I have anywhere to go.”

“Good,” Buffy says, and she pauses, stuck on what to say next. Deep down, she wants to say ‘I love you’, but knows it wouldn’t be right. Not yet, and not over the phone, “Bye.”

“Bye,” Spike says back as Buffy lowers the phone from her ear and stares at it.

Then, she reaches forward and hits the button to shut it off, “I love you.”

Spike leans up in Angel’s chair, and hangs up the phone. He quiet for a moment, and then whispers, “I love you.”

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Author's Notes - Okay, so here's the thing. Well, two things. First off, I don't know how I started writing this in the present tense, but it just happened. Second, this started out as another three-chapter PWP, but while I was writng chapter three, I realized the little bastard had somehow developed a plot, and I couldn't end it there. So yes, another WIP for me. Which depresses me because I have many WIPs that I don't post becuase I'm afraid I'll never get to update any of them *sigh* Ah well, review and put me in a better mood!
And the NC-17 is coming, so keep your pants on. Seriously.

~:frenchie:~
(frenchie5247@yahoo.com)