Masquerade

11

A battery--I'd called to wake up my friend over a frigging dead battery. He holds it up with a triumphant grin and I just frown at it then shake my head.

"I am so sorry, Nick. If I had known--"

"Well, you didn't," he quickly interrupts my apology, "so don't beat yourself up over it. I'm just glad it was something that simple. If it hadn't been, you might have been screwed until tomorrow. There's not exactly a twenty-four hour Thermostats-R-Us here."

I laugh softly at that and he walks over to set the battery on the counter before turning back to me. "The only question now is: do you have one to replace it?"

"Uh ... let me check."

I move around him and to the junk drawer in my kitchen; I yank it open, then rummage around inside it. Duct tape, stapler, twist ties, WD40, a broken CD. I toss stuff aside like a prospector mining for gold in a landfill. After a minute I find several batteries, but none the size he needs.

"Well, shit." I shut the drawer then turn back to him empty handed. "Guess I'll just have to be cold tonight."

He frowns though I smile, and he shakes his head at me. "I'll run home and get one. I'm not leaving you here with no heat, Willow. Gale would fire me. Besides, that would make me a piss poor friend if I did that to you."

"No. I feel bad enough as it is, dragging you out in the middle of the night for nothing."

He chuckles softly and the smile in his eyes makes me smile, too. "This is what I get paid for. Now, hush and just let me do my job."

He turns and heads out the door before I can argue any further. I let out a sigh then turn and shut off the coffee pot. Looks like we won't be needing it, after all. I pick it up then head for the sink to poor it out, but halfway there the ringing of my phone in my pocket startles me. I jump and lose my grip on the pot. It flips over as it plummets to the floor, splashing the dark liquid everywhere just before it shatters. My bare feet are sprinkled in scalding drops and I jump back before the glass can wound me, too.

"Farking shitebag!" I shout as I yank my phone from my pocket and accept the call. "Hello!" I answer without the first scrap of nice in my tone.

"Hello?" I recognize his voice immediately.

"Do you have any idea what fucking time it is, Spencer?" I snap at him as I navigate around the glittering black lake on my floor. I snatch a dishtowel off the counter then turn, squat down, and start mopping up my mess.

"I thought you might be up, so--"

"You figured you'd either bother me or wake me up?"

He goes silent. I stop sopping up the coffee, bow my head, then let out a soft sigh.

"I'm sorry, Spencer. You caught me at a bad time."

I reach out for a large piece of glass and am startled when the door opens behind me. My fingers twitch against the sharp edge and I hiss at the sudden sting it leaves behind.

"Son of a bitch!" I hiss.

"What happened?" Spencer asks, the concern in his voice sounding genuine.

"Hey, I forgot my jacket," Nick says at nearly the same time.

I wedge my phone between my ear and shoulder then wrap my fingers in the soggy towel. I turn to Nick but speak to Spencer.

"I'm fine."

Nick frowns and furrows his brow, looking at the towel.

"I thought you were alone," Spencer says, his tone oddly changing.