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Spike (i_wannadance) wrote in we_coexist,

Spike craned his head as best he could, to follow Jesse's movements from where he was, a bemused smirk on his face, both eyebrows raise. That worked for a while. But it only got him so far.

The invisible field that held him out until such time as Jesse said he could enter smacked him in the head when he leaned too far, and it felt like hitting a brick wall. Spike tsked, listening to the man inside talk, and knowing full well that his friend was still completely sodding oblivious to what was going on in the doorway.

"I don't 'throw up,' mate," Spike quipped, chewing at the side of his face in thought.

Jesse was looking at him now, expectantly, and it was all he could do to not burst out laughing. Hands on hips like he was a little bloody teapot, too.

Now why are you still standin' there?

Spike took a step back from the door and smiled, then nodded his head twice, and lowered his head, raising icy blue eyes and narrowing them at Jesse.

"Because."

A beat. "You didn't invite me in."

Spike's voice lilted appealingly on that sentence, and he couldn't help it. There had been years of practice, making that particular series of words palatable to even the coldest, least trusting heart.

Then, to illustrate the point, Spike raised his right hand and tried to reach through the doorway, tried to extend his hand to Jesse as if to shake it. The invisible field between them made sure that his hand only got to waist-height, then was hit down as if hitting a wall.

A wall that Jesse couldn't see, but Spike could feel, all the same.