Flashpoint--As Soon As I Am Able, Chapter Three
Title: As Soon As I Am Able, Chapter Three
Author: coneycat
Fandoms: Flashpoint
Pairing/Characters: Spike, Leah, the team
Rating: General
Wordcount: 3400
Summary: ...it was a bit like falling off a twelve-storey building and breaking every bone in your body except for your nose. You would be grateful for your nose.
Prompts : None
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
Warnings: Spoilers for Season Three
Continued from Chapter Two
As Soon As I Am Able
Chapter Three
It was warm in the truck. Spike unzipped several layers and fastened his seatbelt as Leah put the 4Runner in reverse, then wound down his window to wave goodbye to his dad who was standing on the porch. Leah flashed the headlights on and off and Spike's dad waved back. Then he stepped inside, and a moment later the porch light went out.
"Man, it is too early to be up on a day off," Leah muttered as she backed out of the driveway. She gestured at the cup holder between them. "I got you a coffee. Two milk, right?"
"Oh." Spike looked at the Tim's cup. "Thanks, Leah."
"Figured we'd need it. Jules is gonna owe us big-time." Spike laughed. Leah went on, "Your dad seems sweet. I didn't realize you lived with your folks."
Spike shrugged, although in the dark with her eyes on the road he didn't know whether Leah saw it. "I'm the youngest," he said, which really didn't explain anything. He considered falling back on "Hey, we're Italian," but instead he said simply, "They like having me, I like being here, and... they're not getting any younger, you know?"
"That's nice," Leah said. She sounded sincere. Spike realized Leah never talked about her folks at all, and he wondered whether it would be okay to ask about them. It was weird how personal you could get, driving in a car in the dark. He hesitated a beat too long and the moment passed. Leah gestured at the stereo, where the Beatles had gone on to "Glass Onion." "Do you mind that?"
"No, it's good," Spike replied. He always figured the driver should get to pick the music, and anyway he liked the Beatles. Leah turned the music up a couple of notches and started talking about the remastered albums, which according to her sounded amazing, even better than the vinyl. Apparently he was in the presence of a serious fan. It was fun to listen to anybody expound on something they were enthusiastic about, and to be honest it was particularly entertaining to see reserved, cool Leah turn into such a fangirl, so Spike quietly practiced his negotiating technique--which he had never had to use in the field but hey, you never know--and kept her talking.
It took a minute, but Spike became aware of an odd feeling. It took him a second to realize what it was: an absence of that awful aching emptiness that seemed to accompany almost everything he did lately. It took him a moment longer to figure out why.
It was the Beatles. Or Leah and the Beatles. Actually, it was the fact Spike was positive Lew had no opinion about the Beatles whatsoever, so the only people in the truck right now were Spike and Leah. It felt like the first time in months he'd run into anything that didn't remind him painfully of Lew.
And it wasn't that he wanted to banish Lew's presence from his mind--or really, his dad was right, his heart--but it was a bit like falling off a twelve-storey building and breaking every bone in your body except for your nose. You would be grateful for your nose. It was a relief to find one little place that didn't hurt, and Spike was too tired and sore to feel guilty about it. He didn't think Lew would hold it against him.
Jules had obviously been waiting in the doorway and came out as soon as Leah pulled into her drive. Spike let himself out the passenger door and made for the back seat.
"Spike, you don't have to--" Jules protested.
"It's okay. You've got to navigate."
"Exactly where is this nursery, anyway?" Leah asked. Jules began explaining the route, which would take them well outside of the city. Leah shook her head. "Just as long as we don't run into any bears. Raccoons are bad enough, but I am not going to put up with bears." She glanced in the rearview at Spike, who was minding his own business, drinking his coffee. "And don't you get any ideas."
"Me?" Spike gave her the big brown eyes, and Jules spoke up,
"Don't worry about it, Leah. Just remember what they say about meeting a bear in the woods."
"What's that?"
"You don't have to outrun the bear. You just have to outrun Spike."
"Hey!" Spike protested.
"I dunno, he can probably move pretty fast when he's properly motivated," Leah remarked. "Maybe I'll plan to outrun you instead."
Jules giggled and leaned forward to turn up the stereo. "One of my older brothers had every Beatles album on vinyl. I used to sneak into his room and listen to them," she reminisced. "Drove him crazy. He used to do the James Bond thing, lay a piece of thread across the top of his albums so he'd know if anyone--me--was messing with them."
"He ever catch you?" Leah asked.
"Of course not. I'd seen some James Bond movies, too. I'd just put the thread back when I was done."
The two women laughed, and in the back seat Spike leaned back and let the voices and the music flow past him. He was a little startled when the truck turned off the highway and he realized they had arrived. Leah turned in her seat.
"Okay, everybody out, and watch out for bears." Spike noticed Jules looking at him and realized she was probably waiting for him to make a crack about how much he hated the woods himself. He wasn't going to. He'd been mostly kidding in the first place, and that joke hadn't been particularly funny since the day Lew burned his hands. Jules noticed him noticing and looked away. Leah glanced from Spike to Jules, obviously aware something was going on, and Spike felt bad about leaving her out but he just couldn't. Instead, he said,
"Yeah, and if anyone happens to see a little house made of gingerbread, we're out of here."
Jules had a very general idea of what she was looking for: something with flowers, preferably bright, and not ridiculously large or spreading. Spike was about to suggest a flowering crabapple tree, which was certainly bright and would take a while to get so big it was annoying, but then Leah suggested lilacs for the smell and he recognized a much better idea when he heard it. They drove back to Jules's place with four baby lilac bushes, just starting to flower, in the back next to Spike. The day had warmed up considerably so the windows were down, and the Beatles were cranked on the stereo. It was Jules who started singing along to "Penny Lane," and the other two joined in, and since they all sounded about equally bad it seemed like the thing to do was turn up the music. Which just made everyone sing louder.
It took longer for Jules to decide where to put the bushes than it did to plant them. That part would have gone even faster if they hadn't started to worry that Paul was crowding Ringo (nobody remembered who named the lilacs but Jules and Leah both blamed Spike and he had to admit, it sounded like something he would do) so they had to wait while Spike called his folks for advice. While he was at it he sent a quick text message. Jules had left her jacket on the back step and didn't notice the pocket vibrate. Spike didn't call her attention to it.
There was just room for three people in Jules's kitchen. At least there was until Jules opened a bottle of red wine--a pretty good choice with spaghetti--and had a glass. Maybe two. Anyway, they'd all forgotten they hadn't really had lunch--or breakfast, come to think of it--and that was when Spike and Leah discovered Jules was the kind of person who danced around her kitchen when she was tipsy. Singing along to "She Loves You." Interesting the things you learned about someone after working with them for several years. Spike finally persuaded her to sit down, but the only way to keep her still was to give her a job. That was a bit of a problem because he certainly wasn't going to let her cut up mushrooms or anything, so he got her to fill saltshakers. There was actually only one saltshaker, but Leah kept sneaking it away and emptying it. Jules didn't seem to notice.
Walking back to Leah's truck later, Spike had a momentary flash that from now on he would probably always associate the Beatles and the smell of lilacs with Jules and Leah. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was a nice realization on the one hand, but... probably not a safe one.
And he was not going to start thinking like that. You couldn't live that way.
It was dark again when Leah pulled up at Spike's house.
"Nice day," she said.
"It was," Spike agreed, and then he paused with his hand on the door handle. "Look, Leah, I... I was a jerk to you when you first joined the team." If it had been him, he probably would have pretended not to know what he was talking about, but Leah just looked at him seriously and let him finish. Lamely but sincerely, he did: "I'm really sorry about that."
"I didn't exactly get off on the right foot, either," Leah pointed out. "And you were only a jerk for about two hours. Under the circumstances, you can have the two hours."
"Thanks," Spike mumbled. He still didn't get out of the truck. "The raccoon... you know the raccoon is all in fun, right?" He didn't know why he suddenly needed to be sure about that.
Leah laughed. "Spike, just between you and me? The raccoon is hilarious. I just figured, if I didn't kick up a bit of a fuss over it Wordy might decide I hadn't been properly pranked and he'd get out the pepper spray. Don't tell anyone I told you that, okay?"
"Scout's honour," Spike promised.
"Were you ever a Scout?"
"Um, actually, no. 'Night, Leah."
Sunday afternoon, while Spike and his dad were watching the Stampeders trounce the Tiger-Cats (his dad didn't understand CFL football, but he had a great deal of sympathy for the hapless Tabbies) the doorbell rang. From the den, Spike heard his mother exclaim,
"Julianna! How nice to see you! Come in, come in."
"I just need to drop something off," Jules was explaining when Spike got there. She shoved a gym bag at him. "Do not ask me how I got hold of this thing. And if she gets fed up and wants to kill somebody, I had nothing to do with it."
"Kidding, she's kidding," Spike assured his confused mother. "Thanks, Jules. You're awesome."
"Tell me something I don't know already. See you tomorrow."
The rest of Sunday was busy, but very productive.
Monday morning, Spike got to work early, stashed the gym bag in his locker, and ran to check whether Leah had arrived yet. Sam and Wordy were on their way to the workout room.
"No, she's not here not yet," Sam told him. "Why?"
"If she shows up in the next ten minutes or so, distract her, okay?" Spike requested. Sam looked dubious, and Wordy unexpectedly spoke up.
"Okay, Spike, don't you think this has gone on long enough?"
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I mean, it was funny and everything but we don't want her to think--"
"Think what?" Spike demanded. He knew what, and just the idea Sam and Wordy were thinking it made him feel a little sick to his stomach. His team mates looked uncomfortable and he was about to press the issue when Ed and the sarge showed up. Ed looked around and asked,
"What's going on?"
"Apparently I'm harassing Leah," Spike said grimly. Sam and Wordy looked more uncomfortable than ever, and Spike was so close to asking how this was worse than nearly blinding someone with pepper spray that he had to bite the inside of his lip to keep quiet. Nobody said anything for a minute. Spike looked at the sarge. "Leah and me--we're good, boss, really. It's actually… a different joke."
"Same raccoon, different joke?" Sam asked, with a bit of an edge to his voice. And that was fair enough, really, the whole team knew Sam, Leah and Wordy had gotten tight. It was just, Spike couldn't recall the last time anyone had assumed his intentions were harmful and he didn't know how to react.
"Yeah. It's… kind of between Jules and Leah and me. She's going to find it funny. I guarantee it." Spike still couldn't believe the rest of the team thought he was... Had he been that much of an asshole to Leah all along? And he hadn't even noticed? Almost pleading, he added, "Seriously, guys, have I really been that bad?"
Wordy, thank God, looked ashamed of himself. "No, you haven't. I just thought--I don't know what I thought." Actually, all of a sudden Spike did know what Wordy had been thinking: that everyone on the team had already been hurt enough, and Wordy couldn't stand any more.
Spike's tone was gentle as he repeated, "It's harmless, Wordy. She'll find it funny. Honest."
The sarge spoke up. "And this is the last one, right? Positively the final appearance of Reginald, the Recurring Raccoon?"
Spike nodded. "Promise." He had just had time to wonder whether he should just call the whole thing off when Jules came charging around the corner.
"Leah's here, I got Donna and Winnie to stall her, is it set?"
"No, I was just--" Spike began. Jules pushed him.
"Go. Go! I'll hold her off." Jules dashed back the way she had come, all Horatio at the bridge. Apparently the rest of the team thought Spike was capable of spite, but not Jules, because there were no further objections--although Sam gave Spike a look that said if there was a water cannon involved, he was going to kick Spike's ass. And Spike had always liked old Samtastic anyway but for some reason that look, despite the fact it was aimed at him, it made him suddenly like Sam even better.
It only took a couple of minutes to set things up in Leah's locker--the only problem was the tripwire. He'd just made it back into the hallway when Leah and Jules arrived, with Donna and Winnie in their wake. Jules was talking animatedly about how one of her new lilacs had more buds coming out since Saturday.
"It's either Paul or Ringo--which one is closer to the front steps?"
Leah frowned. "I think that's Ringo. Spike, do you remember?"
Spike thought about it. "It's got to be Ringo. Remember, we were going to move Paul? We wouldn't move the one next to the steps, so that one must be Ringo." He pretended not to notice the bewildered expressions on the faces of the other men, and stepped politely out of the way so Leah and Jules could enter the locker room. Leah had to know something was up from the elaborately casual way Donna and Winnie continued the conversation as an excuse to follow them. She gave Spike a look of mingled accusation and amusement as she passed him. Spike returned the look with his best innocent smile, thinking, "Please find it funny, please, please find it funny…"
Less than a minute later there was a blast of music from inside the women's locker room, and then shrieks of laughter. Jules actually had to hold onto the door frame when she came out and invited the rest of the team to come see what was going on.
As promised, Leah was laughing. In fact she almost couldn't speak, she just pointed at the inside of her locker. The rest of the team stared at the moth-eaten stuffed raccoon, which now clutched a scuffed iPod Shuffle in his paw, earbuds in his ears, as he serenaded them with "Rocky Raccoon." Despite the visible speakers--on a tight timeframe, Spike hadn't been able to figure out how to hide them--he was still pretty impressive. Well, for a given value of "impressive."
Jules spoke first. "It's even better than I expected. How did you get his mouth to move?"
"That was the hard part," Spike said. "I was afraid I'd damage him."
"'Damage him,'" Leah repeated, with an unladylike snort of laughter.
"Does he sing anything else?" Sam asked. Sam was hard to impress.
"The entire White Album," Spike admitted.
"You loaded the White Album onto a raccoon," Ed said. "I should shoot you just for that." Spike was pretty sure Ed was kidding, but he was still relieved when the raccoon broke into "Why Don't We Do It In the Road" and Jules and Leah cracked up again.
"Man, Spike, I'm glad you're on our side," Sam remarked finally. "You're a bad suit and a fluffy cat away from being a James Bond villain. There isn't a death ray in your basement, is there?"
"No," Spike replied. "That's where we keep the washer and dryer."
"I'd like to know what your science fair projects looked like when you were a kid," Wordy remarked. The raccoon began to sing "Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da" and Ed apparently couldn't take it anymore.
"Reminds me of those singing catfish that were popular a few years ago," he muttered. "Sophie's brother gave us one for Christmas."
"Really. What happened to it?" Jules asked brightly.
"Clark accidentally took it out to the garage and left it on the floor, Sophie accidentally drove over it--twice--and then I accidentally shot it four times. Leah, please take that thing home before Greg has to talk me out of doing something that might lead to an awful lot of holes in the walls."
"What--? Oh, sure, Ed," Leah replied, without taking her eyes off the singing raccoon.
"And now that we've had this lovely musical interlude, ladies and gentlemen," the boss said mildly, "it's probably time to get to work."
"Sure thing, boss," Wordy murmured. He patted Spike on the shoulder and Sam made a wry face of apology as the two of them followed Ed and the sarge out of the women's locker room. Spike was about to follow when Leah stopped him.
"That really is the funniest thing I've ever seen. Thanks."
"I'm glad you like it," Spike replied. "If you hadn't, I don't know what Sam and Wordy would have done to me." At her questioning look, he explained, "They thought--they've got your back, is all." Leah raised her eyebrows and Spike shrugged, "It's a good thing." You were supposed to protect your team mates. From your team mates, if necessary.
"Yeah," Leah murmured. "Um, about the iPod. Do you want me to--?"
"Don't worry about it," Spike assured her. "It was broken when I got it--Lew found it in a parking lot and we wanted to see if I could fix it. And then we were going to build a talking witch for Halloween, but the final result would have scared little kids so we gave up on it. I think he would have enjoyed this." He had to stop to clear his throat, and that was when he noticed the expressions on both Leah's and Jules's faces. He realized this was the first time he'd ever told Leah a Lew story. In fact, it might have been the first time he'd actually said Lew's name out loud in her presence.
"Well," Leah said again, "thanks. With this guy in my window, I probably won't have any trouble with live raccoons ever again. Just... just remember what Rocky said to the doctor, okay?"
"'Doc, it's only a scratch'?" Spike quoted.
"'And I'll be better, doc, as soon as I am able,'" Leah reminded him.
Yeah, Spike thought as he turned toward the door. Not right away, and maybe never completely, but better. As soon as I am able.
It was something.
Author: coneycat
Fandoms: Flashpoint
Pairing/Characters: Spike, Leah, the team
Rating: General
Wordcount: 3400
Summary: ...it was a bit like falling off a twelve-storey building and breaking every bone in your body except for your nose. You would be grateful for your nose.
Prompts : None
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
Warnings: Spoilers for Season Three
Continued from Chapter Two
As Soon As I Am Able
Chapter Three
It was warm in the truck. Spike unzipped several layers and fastened his seatbelt as Leah put the 4Runner in reverse, then wound down his window to wave goodbye to his dad who was standing on the porch. Leah flashed the headlights on and off and Spike's dad waved back. Then he stepped inside, and a moment later the porch light went out.
"Man, it is too early to be up on a day off," Leah muttered as she backed out of the driveway. She gestured at the cup holder between them. "I got you a coffee. Two milk, right?"
"Oh." Spike looked at the Tim's cup. "Thanks, Leah."
"Figured we'd need it. Jules is gonna owe us big-time." Spike laughed. Leah went on, "Your dad seems sweet. I didn't realize you lived with your folks."
Spike shrugged, although in the dark with her eyes on the road he didn't know whether Leah saw it. "I'm the youngest," he said, which really didn't explain anything. He considered falling back on "Hey, we're Italian," but instead he said simply, "They like having me, I like being here, and... they're not getting any younger, you know?"
"That's nice," Leah said. She sounded sincere. Spike realized Leah never talked about her folks at all, and he wondered whether it would be okay to ask about them. It was weird how personal you could get, driving in a car in the dark. He hesitated a beat too long and the moment passed. Leah gestured at the stereo, where the Beatles had gone on to "Glass Onion." "Do you mind that?"
"No, it's good," Spike replied. He always figured the driver should get to pick the music, and anyway he liked the Beatles. Leah turned the music up a couple of notches and started talking about the remastered albums, which according to her sounded amazing, even better than the vinyl. Apparently he was in the presence of a serious fan. It was fun to listen to anybody expound on something they were enthusiastic about, and to be honest it was particularly entertaining to see reserved, cool Leah turn into such a fangirl, so Spike quietly practiced his negotiating technique--which he had never had to use in the field but hey, you never know--and kept her talking.
It took a minute, but Spike became aware of an odd feeling. It took him a second to realize what it was: an absence of that awful aching emptiness that seemed to accompany almost everything he did lately. It took him a moment longer to figure out why.
It was the Beatles. Or Leah and the Beatles. Actually, it was the fact Spike was positive Lew had no opinion about the Beatles whatsoever, so the only people in the truck right now were Spike and Leah. It felt like the first time in months he'd run into anything that didn't remind him painfully of Lew.
And it wasn't that he wanted to banish Lew's presence from his mind--or really, his dad was right, his heart--but it was a bit like falling off a twelve-storey building and breaking every bone in your body except for your nose. You would be grateful for your nose. It was a relief to find one little place that didn't hurt, and Spike was too tired and sore to feel guilty about it. He didn't think Lew would hold it against him.
Jules had obviously been waiting in the doorway and came out as soon as Leah pulled into her drive. Spike let himself out the passenger door and made for the back seat.
"Spike, you don't have to--" Jules protested.
"It's okay. You've got to navigate."
"Exactly where is this nursery, anyway?" Leah asked. Jules began explaining the route, which would take them well outside of the city. Leah shook her head. "Just as long as we don't run into any bears. Raccoons are bad enough, but I am not going to put up with bears." She glanced in the rearview at Spike, who was minding his own business, drinking his coffee. "And don't you get any ideas."
"Me?" Spike gave her the big brown eyes, and Jules spoke up,
"Don't worry about it, Leah. Just remember what they say about meeting a bear in the woods."
"What's that?"
"You don't have to outrun the bear. You just have to outrun Spike."
"Hey!" Spike protested.
"I dunno, he can probably move pretty fast when he's properly motivated," Leah remarked. "Maybe I'll plan to outrun you instead."
Jules giggled and leaned forward to turn up the stereo. "One of my older brothers had every Beatles album on vinyl. I used to sneak into his room and listen to them," she reminisced. "Drove him crazy. He used to do the James Bond thing, lay a piece of thread across the top of his albums so he'd know if anyone--me--was messing with them."
"He ever catch you?" Leah asked.
"Of course not. I'd seen some James Bond movies, too. I'd just put the thread back when I was done."
The two women laughed, and in the back seat Spike leaned back and let the voices and the music flow past him. He was a little startled when the truck turned off the highway and he realized they had arrived. Leah turned in her seat.
"Okay, everybody out, and watch out for bears." Spike noticed Jules looking at him and realized she was probably waiting for him to make a crack about how much he hated the woods himself. He wasn't going to. He'd been mostly kidding in the first place, and that joke hadn't been particularly funny since the day Lew burned his hands. Jules noticed him noticing and looked away. Leah glanced from Spike to Jules, obviously aware something was going on, and Spike felt bad about leaving her out but he just couldn't. Instead, he said,
"Yeah, and if anyone happens to see a little house made of gingerbread, we're out of here."
Jules had a very general idea of what she was looking for: something with flowers, preferably bright, and not ridiculously large or spreading. Spike was about to suggest a flowering crabapple tree, which was certainly bright and would take a while to get so big it was annoying, but then Leah suggested lilacs for the smell and he recognized a much better idea when he heard it. They drove back to Jules's place with four baby lilac bushes, just starting to flower, in the back next to Spike. The day had warmed up considerably so the windows were down, and the Beatles were cranked on the stereo. It was Jules who started singing along to "Penny Lane," and the other two joined in, and since they all sounded about equally bad it seemed like the thing to do was turn up the music. Which just made everyone sing louder.
It took longer for Jules to decide where to put the bushes than it did to plant them. That part would have gone even faster if they hadn't started to worry that Paul was crowding Ringo (nobody remembered who named the lilacs but Jules and Leah both blamed Spike and he had to admit, it sounded like something he would do) so they had to wait while Spike called his folks for advice. While he was at it he sent a quick text message. Jules had left her jacket on the back step and didn't notice the pocket vibrate. Spike didn't call her attention to it.
There was just room for three people in Jules's kitchen. At least there was until Jules opened a bottle of red wine--a pretty good choice with spaghetti--and had a glass. Maybe two. Anyway, they'd all forgotten they hadn't really had lunch--or breakfast, come to think of it--and that was when Spike and Leah discovered Jules was the kind of person who danced around her kitchen when she was tipsy. Singing along to "She Loves You." Interesting the things you learned about someone after working with them for several years. Spike finally persuaded her to sit down, but the only way to keep her still was to give her a job. That was a bit of a problem because he certainly wasn't going to let her cut up mushrooms or anything, so he got her to fill saltshakers. There was actually only one saltshaker, but Leah kept sneaking it away and emptying it. Jules didn't seem to notice.
Walking back to Leah's truck later, Spike had a momentary flash that from now on he would probably always associate the Beatles and the smell of lilacs with Jules and Leah. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was a nice realization on the one hand, but... probably not a safe one.
And he was not going to start thinking like that. You couldn't live that way.
It was dark again when Leah pulled up at Spike's house.
"Nice day," she said.
"It was," Spike agreed, and then he paused with his hand on the door handle. "Look, Leah, I... I was a jerk to you when you first joined the team." If it had been him, he probably would have pretended not to know what he was talking about, but Leah just looked at him seriously and let him finish. Lamely but sincerely, he did: "I'm really sorry about that."
"I didn't exactly get off on the right foot, either," Leah pointed out. "And you were only a jerk for about two hours. Under the circumstances, you can have the two hours."
"Thanks," Spike mumbled. He still didn't get out of the truck. "The raccoon... you know the raccoon is all in fun, right?" He didn't know why he suddenly needed to be sure about that.
Leah laughed. "Spike, just between you and me? The raccoon is hilarious. I just figured, if I didn't kick up a bit of a fuss over it Wordy might decide I hadn't been properly pranked and he'd get out the pepper spray. Don't tell anyone I told you that, okay?"
"Scout's honour," Spike promised.
"Were you ever a Scout?"
"Um, actually, no. 'Night, Leah."
Sunday afternoon, while Spike and his dad were watching the Stampeders trounce the Tiger-Cats (his dad didn't understand CFL football, but he had a great deal of sympathy for the hapless Tabbies) the doorbell rang. From the den, Spike heard his mother exclaim,
"Julianna! How nice to see you! Come in, come in."
"I just need to drop something off," Jules was explaining when Spike got there. She shoved a gym bag at him. "Do not ask me how I got hold of this thing. And if she gets fed up and wants to kill somebody, I had nothing to do with it."
"Kidding, she's kidding," Spike assured his confused mother. "Thanks, Jules. You're awesome."
"Tell me something I don't know already. See you tomorrow."
The rest of Sunday was busy, but very productive.
Monday morning, Spike got to work early, stashed the gym bag in his locker, and ran to check whether Leah had arrived yet. Sam and Wordy were on their way to the workout room.
"No, she's not here not yet," Sam told him. "Why?"
"If she shows up in the next ten minutes or so, distract her, okay?" Spike requested. Sam looked dubious, and Wordy unexpectedly spoke up.
"Okay, Spike, don't you think this has gone on long enough?"
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I mean, it was funny and everything but we don't want her to think--"
"Think what?" Spike demanded. He knew what, and just the idea Sam and Wordy were thinking it made him feel a little sick to his stomach. His team mates looked uncomfortable and he was about to press the issue when Ed and the sarge showed up. Ed looked around and asked,
"What's going on?"
"Apparently I'm harassing Leah," Spike said grimly. Sam and Wordy looked more uncomfortable than ever, and Spike was so close to asking how this was worse than nearly blinding someone with pepper spray that he had to bite the inside of his lip to keep quiet. Nobody said anything for a minute. Spike looked at the sarge. "Leah and me--we're good, boss, really. It's actually… a different joke."
"Same raccoon, different joke?" Sam asked, with a bit of an edge to his voice. And that was fair enough, really, the whole team knew Sam, Leah and Wordy had gotten tight. It was just, Spike couldn't recall the last time anyone had assumed his intentions were harmful and he didn't know how to react.
"Yeah. It's… kind of between Jules and Leah and me. She's going to find it funny. I guarantee it." Spike still couldn't believe the rest of the team thought he was... Had he been that much of an asshole to Leah all along? And he hadn't even noticed? Almost pleading, he added, "Seriously, guys, have I really been that bad?"
Wordy, thank God, looked ashamed of himself. "No, you haven't. I just thought--I don't know what I thought." Actually, all of a sudden Spike did know what Wordy had been thinking: that everyone on the team had already been hurt enough, and Wordy couldn't stand any more.
Spike's tone was gentle as he repeated, "It's harmless, Wordy. She'll find it funny. Honest."
The sarge spoke up. "And this is the last one, right? Positively the final appearance of Reginald, the Recurring Raccoon?"
Spike nodded. "Promise." He had just had time to wonder whether he should just call the whole thing off when Jules came charging around the corner.
"Leah's here, I got Donna and Winnie to stall her, is it set?"
"No, I was just--" Spike began. Jules pushed him.
"Go. Go! I'll hold her off." Jules dashed back the way she had come, all Horatio at the bridge. Apparently the rest of the team thought Spike was capable of spite, but not Jules, because there were no further objections--although Sam gave Spike a look that said if there was a water cannon involved, he was going to kick Spike's ass. And Spike had always liked old Samtastic anyway but for some reason that look, despite the fact it was aimed at him, it made him suddenly like Sam even better.
It only took a couple of minutes to set things up in Leah's locker--the only problem was the tripwire. He'd just made it back into the hallway when Leah and Jules arrived, with Donna and Winnie in their wake. Jules was talking animatedly about how one of her new lilacs had more buds coming out since Saturday.
"It's either Paul or Ringo--which one is closer to the front steps?"
Leah frowned. "I think that's Ringo. Spike, do you remember?"
Spike thought about it. "It's got to be Ringo. Remember, we were going to move Paul? We wouldn't move the one next to the steps, so that one must be Ringo." He pretended not to notice the bewildered expressions on the faces of the other men, and stepped politely out of the way so Leah and Jules could enter the locker room. Leah had to know something was up from the elaborately casual way Donna and Winnie continued the conversation as an excuse to follow them. She gave Spike a look of mingled accusation and amusement as she passed him. Spike returned the look with his best innocent smile, thinking, "Please find it funny, please, please find it funny…"
Less than a minute later there was a blast of music from inside the women's locker room, and then shrieks of laughter. Jules actually had to hold onto the door frame when she came out and invited the rest of the team to come see what was going on.
As promised, Leah was laughing. In fact she almost couldn't speak, she just pointed at the inside of her locker. The rest of the team stared at the moth-eaten stuffed raccoon, which now clutched a scuffed iPod Shuffle in his paw, earbuds in his ears, as he serenaded them with "Rocky Raccoon." Despite the visible speakers--on a tight timeframe, Spike hadn't been able to figure out how to hide them--he was still pretty impressive. Well, for a given value of "impressive."
Jules spoke first. "It's even better than I expected. How did you get his mouth to move?"
"That was the hard part," Spike said. "I was afraid I'd damage him."
"'Damage him,'" Leah repeated, with an unladylike snort of laughter.
"Does he sing anything else?" Sam asked. Sam was hard to impress.
"The entire White Album," Spike admitted.
"You loaded the White Album onto a raccoon," Ed said. "I should shoot you just for that." Spike was pretty sure Ed was kidding, but he was still relieved when the raccoon broke into "Why Don't We Do It In the Road" and Jules and Leah cracked up again.
"Man, Spike, I'm glad you're on our side," Sam remarked finally. "You're a bad suit and a fluffy cat away from being a James Bond villain. There isn't a death ray in your basement, is there?"
"No," Spike replied. "That's where we keep the washer and dryer."
"I'd like to know what your science fair projects looked like when you were a kid," Wordy remarked. The raccoon began to sing "Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da" and Ed apparently couldn't take it anymore.
"Reminds me of those singing catfish that were popular a few years ago," he muttered. "Sophie's brother gave us one for Christmas."
"Really. What happened to it?" Jules asked brightly.
"Clark accidentally took it out to the garage and left it on the floor, Sophie accidentally drove over it--twice--and then I accidentally shot it four times. Leah, please take that thing home before Greg has to talk me out of doing something that might lead to an awful lot of holes in the walls."
"What--? Oh, sure, Ed," Leah replied, without taking her eyes off the singing raccoon.
"And now that we've had this lovely musical interlude, ladies and gentlemen," the boss said mildly, "it's probably time to get to work."
"Sure thing, boss," Wordy murmured. He patted Spike on the shoulder and Sam made a wry face of apology as the two of them followed Ed and the sarge out of the women's locker room. Spike was about to follow when Leah stopped him.
"That really is the funniest thing I've ever seen. Thanks."
"I'm glad you like it," Spike replied. "If you hadn't, I don't know what Sam and Wordy would have done to me." At her questioning look, he explained, "They thought--they've got your back, is all." Leah raised her eyebrows and Spike shrugged, "It's a good thing." You were supposed to protect your team mates. From your team mates, if necessary.
"Yeah," Leah murmured. "Um, about the iPod. Do you want me to--?"
"Don't worry about it," Spike assured her. "It was broken when I got it--Lew found it in a parking lot and we wanted to see if I could fix it. And then we were going to build a talking witch for Halloween, but the final result would have scared little kids so we gave up on it. I think he would have enjoyed this." He had to stop to clear his throat, and that was when he noticed the expressions on both Leah's and Jules's faces. He realized this was the first time he'd ever told Leah a Lew story. In fact, it might have been the first time he'd actually said Lew's name out loud in her presence.
"Well," Leah said again, "thanks. With this guy in my window, I probably won't have any trouble with live raccoons ever again. Just... just remember what Rocky said to the doctor, okay?"
"'Doc, it's only a scratch'?" Spike quoted.
"'And I'll be better, doc, as soon as I am able,'" Leah reminded him.
Yeah, Spike thought as he turned toward the door. Not right away, and maybe never completely, but better. As soon as I am able.
It was something.