David settled down in his new favorite spot on the steps at Wolfram and Hart where he could see the activities all around, right as Spike walked through the lobby, headed to Angel’s office again. He seemed determined to pretend David didn’t exist and deliberately ignored him as he passed by. Just as well, thought David, I’d really rather not get punched again. He was pretty sure Spike hadn’t noticed him following earlier; he’d been careful to keep as much distance as possible. He looked around the office area again, noticing that it was much quieter now than it had been earlier in the day. Night had fallen while they'd been trying to leave the city but kept getting pulled back to Wolfram and Hart.

  As he watched, two men entered the lobby carrying buckets of blood, one with a torn yellow tie. This should be interesting, David thought intrigued. The men exchanged words with Harmony at her desk; she grimaced and went to tell Angel who the buckets belonged to. Apparently, it had been a lawyer who Angel had sent to deal with a client who hadn't appreciated the news. Angel came out of his office a few short moments later to lean in and speak to Harmony in hushed tones. Gunn walked up to him as Wesley joined them, and David could hear them discussing something about a necromancer. From the sound of things, this law firm had been providing a necromancer with bodies. Lovely, thought David, we've left Sunnyhell for a fresh new den of evil. After the men finished discussing whatever their plans were, David followed Spike down to the car garage.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  "What's it look like I'm doing? I'm bored, and watching you two is entertaining." David shrugged.

  "Just sod off, would you? Bad enough I'm stuck here haunting Captain Forehead. I've had enough crazy in my life, thanks. Or was the fist to the face not a strong enough message?” Spike snarled as he claimed the front seat of a sleek black Viper. David promptly squeezed himself into the cramped backseat. Spike turned to look at him.

  "Make me," challenged David, meeting his gaze steadily. Mentally, Spike weighed the pros and cons of forcibly ejecting the interloper from the car. He probably could - the bloke hadn't put up much of a fight earlier. Or any fight at all, really. Then again, while he was busy brawling, there was every chance that Angel would sneak off and leave him behind. And that wouldn't do at all. On the other hand... could be that the added crazy would piss Angel off enough to make it worth dealing with him. While they sat locked in a staring contest, Angel leaned down and opened the door of the car.

  "Knew you’d pick the Viper! So bloody predictable," Spike announced smugly, pleased at being proven right. Some things never changed; Angel’s penchant for flash was one of them. "Spike. Get out of the car." Angel ordered; his annoyance palpable. He didn’t have time for more of Spike’s nonsense. Not today.

  "No." Spike’s response was mulish, and David smiled to himself. He managed to stay quiet, waiting to see what happened next.

  "What?" Angel asked, tensing.

  "This 'haunting you until the end of time' idea of yours is starting to sound appealing," Spike smiled mischievously up at Angel, warming to the idea as he spoke. "I could drive you completely starkers. Right out of your gourd. Yea, and you wouldn't be able to do a soddin' thing about it." David snickered as Angel slammed the door to the car and went to move to another one. Spike glanced back at David, who raised an eyebrow and smirked. Both moved to the next car without another word. David found there to be no more room in this car than the one before but figured there was no way he was gonna win out for shotgun, so once again, he folded himself tightly into the backseat.

  "Fancy a road trip? This'll be fun, eh? You and me together again. Even carting along a sack of crazy just like old times," Spike said, motioning towards David in the back who rolled his eyes. "So, where are we off to?"

  "To see the wizard," replied Angel tersely, as he squealed out of the parking space.

  David leaned forward between them to stare out the window as they drove through LA. The vampires tried to ignore him despite his obvious excitement at the surroundings.

  "Can we drive down Hollywood Boulevard?" David asked excitedly.

  "No," said Angel flatly.

  "Aw, come on ol' man. Could be fun!" Spike added in, enjoying how irritated Angel was as David kept making audible gasps and swinging his head back forth taking in the sights like a little kid. Spike started to wonder how long it had been since the bloke had been around other people. He didn't seem to have a filter or even awareness of their personal space. Was almost like having Anya around again, he thought a little wistfully. Though, to be fair, Spike had to acknowledge that the cramped backseat of the car didn’t leave David much personal space of his own, forcing him to practically straddle the back of Spike’s seat, his knees banging against Spike’s elbows every time Angel hit the brakes.

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  When they arrived at the mansion, a butler let them into the foyer and asked if they had an appointment.

  "Let's just say he sent us an invitation," Spike said.

  "We're – I'm from Wolfram and Hart," Angel continued. The butler looked at first Spike and then David.

  "I'm his date," Spike answered the unspoken question.

  "And I'm his," David said, gesturing at Spike. Spike shot David a look of sheer exasperation.

  "What, are you guys some sort of freaky throuple or something?" The butler asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Or something," David agreed and turned away to look at the space they'd found themselves in. He could hear Angel audibly sigh heavily.

  "Indeed," the butler said. "Mr. Hainsley is with a customer at the moment. I'm afraid he does not suffer interruption lightly."

  "I'm not so worried about his suffering. Go ahead and interrupt," Angel said.

  "As you wish. Please wait here," the butler looked from one to the other, lingering on David as he looked him up and down, "gentlemen?" He finished with an almost questioning tone at David then walked away. David cursed under his breath.

  "Oh, life among the power elite. It's all so civilized. Hainsley grinds up one of your people into chum, and you drop by for tea," Spike commented, investigating the lavish decorations of the mansion’s foyer

  "I'm hopin’ to avoid a body count here," Angel grumbled.

  "No worries. Looks like this Hainsley keeps one on hand," Spike said gesturing to the room in front of them. They walked into the room before them to find it set up with different people configured in varied positions like a wax museum.

  Spike scoffed softly. "Man likes to play with dollies."

  "This isn't for him," said Angel, hitting the light switch and they looked around as the room lit up with spotlights on the different bodies. Some stood arranged as though they were in conversation, even holding empty glasses, while others were sitting. One was even arranged at a piano. "It's a showroom."

  "Eww, gross," David said before he could stop himself. Spike glanced at him as he walked up to one of the figures and examined it more closely, bending down slightly and looking up one of the corpse's noses curiously. "Bloody necromancers. Dead things should be left dead." Spike couldn't help but agree, especially given their current situation.

  "Would be nice, wouldn't it?" Spike commented mildly, provoking yet another heavy sigh from Angel.

  "You think he talks to them?" David pondered as he walked through the room, examining each corpse in turn.

  "I don't know. Maybe the geezer's just lonely. Throws himself a surprise party every night. Takes out one of these painted pigeons and shows her a good time, if you know what I mean," Spike replied with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

  "Gross," David exclaimed while Angel looked at Spike questioningly.

  "What? I'm sure they don't mind," Spike defended.

  "Yeah, I mind," said Angel.

  "Why?" Spike asked, inspecting one of the posed bodies. "They're the lucky ones, aren't they? It's over for them. They've shuffled off, cleanly, the one time. Nobody's shoving them back into this stinking world against their will." Spike looked first at Angel, then at David who was nodding to himself in agreement.

  "I mind," Angel said again, more forcefully this time as he and Spike stared daggers at each other.

  The butler arrived then. "Mr. Hainsley has asked that I send you back to Wolfram and Hart, gentlemen. In a manner of speaking," he said brandishing two butcher knives from behind his back and swinging them back and forth in front of him menacingly.

  "Uh oh! Looks like it's buckets for you!" Spike snarked gleefully, stepping back to watch the show. Even David chuckled softly. Angel watched the butler calmly, then grabbed a spoon from a teacup held by a corpse next to him and chucked it right into the butler's head. The butler cried out and reached to pull the spoon out of where it was now lodged into his skull. David couldn't help himself as he started laughing out loud. Spike looked at Angel incredulously.

  "A spoon?!! That's just …" they watched as the butler pulled the spoon out. "Well, ok, that's just more…" Spike started to say, relieved Angel hadn't won the fight by throwing a spoon. Then he watched disappointed as the butler fell to the floor. David clapped and continued to laugh out loud, unable to contain himself. "Disappointing really," Spike finished, trying to ignore David who coughed then and managed to stifle his laughter.

  "I know you can't help, but could you not root for the other team?" Angel snapped at Spike, ignoring David, whose lips were still twitching with suppressed amusement as he watched the two vampires square off.

  "I'll root for anyone with half a chance of taking you down a notch," Spike shot back.

  "What is your problem?" Angel demanded.

  "You are, you ponce! You're my problem! You've got it too good. You're king of a 30-floor castle, with all the cars, comfort, power and glory you could ever want. And here I save the world, throw myself on the proverbial hand grenade for love, honor, and all the right reasons, and what do I get? Bloody well toasted and ghosted is what I get, isn't it? It's just not fair." Angel and Spike walked past the dead butler and down the hall to look for Hainsley. David stared at the butler on the floor, wondering if he wanted to follow. He was starting to feel that pull, like the undertow about to grab him away, and needed a moment to steady himself.

  "Fair? You asked for a soul. I didn't!" Angel retorted angrily. "It almost killed me. I spent a hundred years trying to come to terms with infinite remorse. You spent three weeks moaning in a basement, and then you were fine! What's fair about that?!"

  "Are you getting blurry or is it…." Spike started as he faded from view. Angel glanced back in the room they'd come from and saw David was gone too. Good riddance, he thought to himself, as he groaned and tried to dismiss his frustrations with Spike and tried to focus on the actual problem at hand - Hainsley.

  Like how you combined the tone with the actions here.