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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm sure she won't miss it.

[ Lies. Whatever he's pocketing it. He'll leave behind the diamonds, at the very least? ]

Did you sleep well?

[He sees that. And makes no comment, just starting the coffee like the awesome friend he is.]

Like a rock. [For the two minutes before you shoved an alarm clock in his face.]