Some Assembly Required
Disclaimer: I don't own BtVS. Duh.
Spike sat in the middle of the floor seriously considering crying. He was surrounded by screws, knobs, panels, and several unidentifiable planks of wood. How had he gotten himself into this?
After the Slayer left with Giles to Italy, he and his girl had moved into a large apartment in London. It seemed the Watchers Council had finally recognized how much of an asset she could be to them, and were now happily dishing money for their accommodation- as long as she agreed to work for them.
But also, since they had arrived, she had been showing interest in music. And not that crap she listened to back in Sunnydale, either. She had begun piano lessons again, taking up where she left off in her childhood, and she was becoming very good at it. They would often walk down to a friend's house, and Spike would watch her as her fingers darted over the keys, playing soft and gentle music.
Her favourite was Tchaikovsky. She had insisted that they go to swan lake at least three times. She said the music made her want to dance, and he would pull her close and leer and say in that deep voice she loved that he would dance with her all bleeding night if she wanted. At which point she would either roll her eyes and punch him lightly, or kiss him. Spike preferred the latter.
It was with this in mind that he had come up with his "brilliant" idea. Her birthday was coming up, and he knew the perfect present. No more traipsing up and down the road to someone else's piano, he was going to buy her her own electric keyboard. And so, in the months approaching her birthday, he had gone into store after store after store, browsed more websites than he knew existed, and read so many catalogues that he was sure he was using up an entire Brazilian rainforest for the first half alone.
And his work paid off. He found the perfect one, the one that would fit her perfectly. It was ordered, delivered, and signed for, and Spike stood in the kitchen of their apartment gazing not so much at the three large boxes, but at the big, red stamp on the largest. Some Assembly Required. Spike shrugged. How hard could it really be?
Stupid question. She would be gone for at least four hours. Spike had protested to her working on her birthday, but she had shrugged off his protests. There would be plenty of time, she had said, to celebrate later. And so he had plenty of time to get this thing assembled. If he could figure out how to do it.
"Bloody hell," he swore, sitting there in the centre of all the equipment. There was no instruction manual, just some crappy piece of paper that told him to insert A into L. Thanks for nothing. Damn it, this wasn't his fault! They didn't have DIY in the nineteenth century! There was no way he was going to finish this in time. He buried his face in his hands. If only there was someone who could help…
Yes! His mind cried. There is someone who can help, someone who came into town just a few days ago, someone who you refused to see… Spike made a choking noise. Ask him? He who was probably even more useless concerning technology than me?
But he was the only person in town who Spike could call on right now. And together, maybe they could figure it out. Maybe. So Spike hurried over to the phone, and dialled the number. After a few rings the phone was answered by a sleepy sounding voice.
"Hi, Peaches. Um, I have a bit of a problem…"
Two hours later, Angel and Spike stood happily in the lounge, admiring their work. Angel had been somewhat stumped by the instructions at first too, but it seemed that two vampires is better then one, and they quickly caught on, and assembled the keyboard.
"So admit it, Spike. Sometimes you do need a little help from your all knowing-"
"Don't flatter yourself, Peaches. You're the last person on my list of people to go to for help. Not that I need any. You just happened to be the only person in town."
Angel snorted. "Keep telling yourself that, Spike."
After Spike- rather abruptly and forcefully- showed his grand-Sire the way out, he paused again to view the keyboard. Some assembly required. He hoped he never saw those words again. Then again…he pictured her face when she saw it. Maybe it was worth it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of keys turning in the lock. Already? But she was an hour early!
"Spike, am I hallucinating or did I just see Angel drive out of the-" Dawn was cut short by the sight of Spike standing nonchalantly by the keyboard.
"Hey, Bit," he greeted her offhandedly.
"Spike!" She took a shaky breath. "What's this?"
"Your birthday present, pet." He replied, enjoying the shocked look on her face.
"Oh my god, Spike! How, what?" She reached out tentatively to touch the piano.
"Thought you'd like it." He smiled smugly.
"I don't. I love it." She flung her arms around his neck, showering him with kisses. Oh yeah. Definitely worth it.