Spike. (lessritualnow) wrote in chaos_cube, @ 2008-02-05 03:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | buffy summers, spike, tim hunter |
Entrance Post: Spike.
The nurse kept looking at him. Spike had been aware of this ten minutes ago the first time she took a glance over her desk in his direction. He couldn't blame her, though. He'd raced in her with a man that had a nice hole in his side, had no insurance for this man he'd desperately wanted saved, and his face was a bleeding mess.
She'd tried to get him looked at, but he'd utterly refused, telling her that it would be a waste of time and to do something slightly more useful. He'd then sat in a chair, wanting to at least wait until he knew if Gunn was going to live or die before he left. Where he'd go when he left, he had no idea, but it wouldn't be back to that alley. He could not go back to that alley.
Within those ten minutes that he'd been sitting down, he find a wooden cube with pieces underneath his chair. Considering the choice between that or the health and beauty magazines littering the table in front of him, it was no wonder he chose the cube.
It took him less time than he would have thought, just five minutes after he recognized that the nurse was still watching him, before a smug smile crossed his lips as he slid the last piece in - and landed right in the middle of a very sunlit place, ignoring the waiting room chair still underneath him.
For a moment, he panicked, before he realized that, once again, he was not on fire. Right. Must be that alternate dimension thing. No burning to a crisp for me, then. He thought, standing and squinting as he took a look around him.