paradisa | 039; backdated to midnight

[Here Spike was, coming back to his room after some quality time at a bar, innocently going about his day. Usual stuff. When he gets there, he doesn't bother to flip the lights on, and throws his jacket to where a chair usually sits -- only to hear it fall to the floor instead (...coincidentally causing the journal to fly out of it...). Huh.

He doesn't dwell on it though. Maybe he moved the chair and doesn't remember. Or he's more tipsy than he thought, which is always possible. Then he takes a step and immediately runs into something.]

Ow.

[-- what the? That's when he flips on the light to see a pile of shopping bags. ...

Recognition (very) slowly dawns on him as he has a better look around and gets incrementally more disturbed. Why... is he in Faye's room? How does that even happen? Did he forget what floor he was on? That's when he hears someone (who definitely isn't Faye) call out from the bed to turn off the light. That snaps his attention back to ask a much more pressing question.]

Who the hell are you?

ooc: Continuing the loss! Open over the journal.

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I can't say that I have.

[With that, she trails off and falls silent, save for another quiet sigh. She's thinking. (Even if it's most likely ultimately useless.)]

Maybe a sledgehammer. [The day Spike can't demolish something...] Explosives might not go over well with the residents.

[But at that, she's pulled out of her thoughts for the moment. Another one of those small smiles creeps onto her face before she can stop it. Because, really... only Spike.]

Probably not. You might need another plan.

I was afraid of that.

[There's got to be some trick to it. Assuming the whole thing wasn't completely random; not to mention a huge waste of time for Julia, in the middle of the night.]

You'll have to let me know if I miss anything.

[Honestly, she wasn't sleeping anyway. There was a reason why she'd been awake and looking at the journal in the middle of the night. She hasn't been sleeping well at all lately, not since...--

The moment's over almost as quickly as it had come. Fleeting at best. That's all any of them ever were, really. Just like that, her demeanor becomes serious again. What was she actually going to accomplish here? Did she actually think she was going to be able to help him?]

Nothing so far.

[He smiles, very briefly, for no reason at all. Except maybe making light of these things is what they have in common.

Unfortunately, Spike also spends too much time expecting the worse, or escalating situations without really trying. Like getting Julia involved in the first place.]

That's one thing off my mind. ... The rest I'll have to sleep on.

[Fitting, in a way, that they're standing here like this. Talking to each other through a door. It was always that one degree of separation between them, no matter what. One that, as it's continuing to become more and more apparent, is essentially impossible to overcome.

And yet, somehow, she keeps trying.

A hand touches the door, fingers running over it absently. Then, after a hesitation, they're headed in the vague direction of the doorknob. Like she's actually seriously considering just trying to pull it, but she's still at war with logic, which tells her that nothing is ever going to be that simple.]

I'll keep you posted if anything changes.

[ Piping up: ]

You know, if you really work at it, you should be able to open the door a crack and look each other. You just can't touch.

[He's always so helpful when he pipes up. It isn't that Spike doesn't want to see her, but he's paranoid by nature, and he isn't loving the idea of Joshua putting a face to a voice.

... Logic that doesn't hold up in practice, apparently. Spike reaches for the doorknob and gives it a good pull in his direction. If it's that easy to get it open a crack, they should be able to go from there, right? Either that or he'll get her hopes up. Still. He can't help but test it.]

[By this point, Julia had practically forgotten that they weren't alone. Though not enough to make her react visibly, hearing that other voice coming from behind the door does startle her for about half a second.

There's really no time to dwell on that, however, because soon afterward, a very miniscule crack starts to appear in the doorway. Which honestly might have been more unexpected than the other person speaking up. Her hand automatically jumps back from the door.

She doesn't voice the obvious question. What now?]

[ He's staying where he is, though, seeming uninterested in their interaction despite his 'help'. ]

[Well, it wasn't much, but he keeps pulling on the door as soon as he gets that small opening. It doesn't budge another inch though; which is frustrating until he realizes he's got a decent glimpse of the hallway from here. And Julia.

...

On the plus side, she can see that he's not covering for a broken arm or anything.]

I guess that's progress.

[Well, hey. At the very least, that's an encouraging sight. She'd be lying if she claimed she wasn't half-expecting that broken arm. Or a broken leg. Or something equally stupid that might merit a body cast.

... And maybe. Just maybe. There's some hope.]

I guess it is. [But, even so, this is said very carefully.]

039; backdated to midnight

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