"They are doing well aren't they", said Hades, hop, skip and jumping into his office, Garma tucked beneath his elbow. The students had taken Hades through everything they had been working on, Eloise and Lydia arriving home just after him to proudly display the magazines they had prevented heartless bastards from purchasing. He had even laughed at the caricature of himself, sketched so wonderfully on the blackboard, complimenting Seb on his art but only receiving a scowl in return. Hades should have known that he should not have tried to break through with that one.
Flinging himself into his chair, Hades placed Garma in his lap, squinted an eye and said, "Allow me to introduce myself."
Spike made no answer, but he was trying to manoeuvre Hades' new purchase of a 1930s writing desk through the doorway. Hades pouted as he waited for Spike to put the desk down in a corner of the room where it possessed no practical purpose but looked nice and complimented the skirting boards. Hands on lower spine, Spike lent back, until there was an audible click, making Hades grimace.
"Spike, who am I. Go on, guess." Hades lent back in his chair looking evil.
Spike shrugged. "I don't know Gov", he said with the rest of the sentence 'and I don't care' hanging between them.
"Agh, your no fun." Picking Garma up, Hades kissed her gently on the nose and put her down on the ground where she preceded to run around like a mad thing. Spike's eyes followed her.
Swinging round, Hades searched his office. "Where are the latest reports? Have you filed them away? How are things going in the land down under?"
Receiving no reply, Hades swung round again to face Spike. Flicking his eyes down then up, Hades lent back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Spike, I get the feeling something's not quite right."
Tight lipped, Spike jerked his head aside in a shake. "No Gov. All fine Gov. Fine and dandy Gov."
"Riiiiight", Hades was not convinced. As a policy, he had never learnt to read emotions; there was pain and there was peace, that was all one needed to know in his line of work. But something was telling him that Spike was experiencing a more complex emotion, one intricately made from many thoughts and feelings. Concentrating, Hades tried to work it out, scrutinising Spike's despondent face but soon he had to stop. It was giving him a headache. He would have to mull it over, that's what humans did. "Reports?", he asked again.
"Nothing's come through today. I think there might be an issue with communications."
'"No, there's not", said Hades walking over to the fax machine. "Oh, what do you know."
Hades saw Spike roll his eyes but chose to forget it. His demon was obviously going through something. Inspecting the tube system from where he sent his instruction to Hell, Hades cried the same exclamation of discovery that Chris Columbous cried when he stood on the deck of his ship, pointing at 'India'.
"Ah ha, I see the problem", he exclaimed. "There's something jamming the pipe. It must be causing the whole system to go haywire; that's the problem with this new-fangled technology (Footnote 1). If I just ...." Hades reached into the opening and began to pull out communication tubes which sent his orders whizzing down to Hell like antibiotics through the digestive tract.
"Blimey, there's quite a few in here". The tubes were piling up on the floor, clinking together musically as Spike watched on, doing his upmost to ignore Garma who had become enamoured with his left shoe. Up to his shoulder, Hades stood on his toes to reach further, grasping at something soft and woolly like a claw in an arcade letting the pink teddy bear slip through its talons. "Bingo", said Hades as his fingers eventually caught hold of the material and he was able to slide his arm from the pipe and allow blood flow to resume.
"What on Earth", Hades said, holding up the material which unravelled to reveal a pair of knitted dungarees in a pleasant shade of ultramarine. Holding it to himself, Hades twisted his mouth in irritated bamboozlement. "I can't deny your creative talent Spike", Hades said to his PA "the stitches could have been done by pixies. But I must ask, and bear with me here, why did you block my communications system with knitwear?"
Spike shrugged nonchalantly, alerting Hades that something terrible must be up. The time where Spike had trembled at Hades' disproval was long gone (along with a large dollop of respect, much to Hades' ire) but Spike was usually so concerned with pleasing everyone, the fact that he was unbothered by causing a fault in Hades' prized communication system was A) Bang out of order and B) Deeply troubling.
"It's for my sister", Spike said, defensively. "She wrote to me the other week which she never does and sounded a bit miffed at the universe. I thought I'd try to cheer her up but obviously her present never arrived."
"Obviously", agreed Hades. "This is Aithne we are talking about, is it?". A nod of concurrence. "And she's annoyed at the universe."
Spike shifted his feet, difficult when he had a puppy asleep on one of them. "Mainly you. Your politics and abuse of power or something like that. She's never really liked you Gov. None of the family likes you when it comes down to it. To quote from the last meeting 'The guy's a slimy, good for nothing sleaze bag who's only skills are moping and drinking tea'. They think you've lost your touch."
"Coffee drinkers are they", Hades said, tapping his hand on the desk. It proved how quickly the yoga and motorbike lifestyle had changed Hades. In days of yore (last month) this information would have had him flying off the handle. Instead, Hades merely felt a little put out and cemented in his mind that Spike's family was a piece of work. "It was very nice of you to try and cheer your sister up Spike. Going above and beyond for sibling affection. But next time could you maybe ask me to send the package down, so it doesn't cause a backlog? Who knows how long those imbeciles downstairs have been running things without direction, it's going to be pandemonium."
Trying to extract Garma from his shoe without waking her, Spike made a cutting gesture through the air. "It's all right, Gov. I only sent it Friday evening."
Hades blinked. "As in this Friday? As in two days ago? Spike, do you mean to tell me that all these communications are....", Hades opened a tube and read it's contents, "letters to your mother?"
"Yup", said Spike, suddenly losing his expression of complicated emotions in exchange for one of slight abashment.
"You really took the idea of Mummy's boy and ran with it didn't you", said Hades, meanly. Rubbing his head in wonderment, Hades picked up another tube and scanned the letter. "Jee whizz", he murmured as Spike's cheeks bloomed cardinal.
"That's my private correspondence", Spike muttered, harshly, tapping his leg and jiggling his foot.
"Is it?", said Hades in mock surprise. "I wouldn't have known; you appear to put everything in here. This one is dated Saturday lunchtime. I mean, come on Spike, there's sad and there's sad". Hades continued his search of Spike's private life. "How many relatives do you have?", he enquired. "And have you been telling them all about my life?". Like a switch, Hades' glowing face darkened as he pulled the letter closer to his face, lips moving as he read the contents.
"Just how much of my private life have you revealed to your mother", he asked of Spike.
Eyes wide, Spike did not answer. Hades' tone had changed, Spike had really messed up.
"Spike?", Hades quested.
Swallowing, Spike stood tall. "I just tell her about my day. It's not like I have anyone else to talk to and recently I've needed to get things off my chest. It's not as easy as you think, trying to decipher your moods, wondering if I need to walk around with a pail of water or if you're going to get out the right side of the bed. I can't talk to the children because it's only recently we've been completely open about everything, and in any case, I don't want to worry them. I have no friends outside this house, I don't have a Mathias, or a yoga class, or a Wednesday morning brunch party; I'm always here. My entire family thinks I'm a disgrace to the name of Reckoning, so forgive me if I need to vent to my Ma sometimes about your strops."
Drawing his eyebrows together and folding his arms, Spike tried to look menacing, daring Hades to talk back. The dark lord of the dead was filled with remorse. Spike really did look rather pathetic standing there, hair a mess, trousers un-ironed with a gleam in his eye not caused by sunlight. Perhaps, Hades thought, perhaps he had been a little neglectful towards his employee. Not that he had to, he was the mighty Beelzebub, but that did not mean he had to be inhumane. Hades really hated what he was about to do, his stomach squirmed like a cluster of maggots cleaning an infected wound.
"Sorry, Spike", he said. "That was uncalled for. I shouldn't have read your letters and I shouldn't have laughed at you. Although you can't blame me", he held up a finger in acknowledgement of his mistake. "I can be a bit of a git at times and you're one who has to clear up the mess. Of course, that's what I pay you for, but I don't have to ..... Reckoning? Your family name is Reckoning?"
"Yes", said Spike, confused at the turn in conversation. "It was written on my contract."
Now Hades felt really bad.
"I know that name", said Hades, thinking aloud. "Not from your contract, from something else." Taking a seat, Hades gnawed his thumb. "Did I kill an ancestor of yours?", he enquired of Spike who shook his shaggy head.
"Probably, you did that a lot in the old days. But as far as I know, the family try to keep out of the limelight as much as possible. Most of them are damn decent torturers, but only a couple of cousins do it professionally, the others live off family money. I don't know where it comes from", Spike replied to Hades' enquiring glance. "But the family used to meet quite a lot to discuss things, maybe that was it. I could ask Grandma Ilene if you like. She's a bit tricky and I think love only flows one way in our relationship, but as she always says, family is all. Gov? Gov are you all right?"
Decidedly not all right, Hades held up a halting finger as he swallowed his lunch of steak and ale pie for the second time that day.
"It's just that you've gone rather green." Spike took a couple of large steps backwards. Despite his anger, he still loved his Gov, but and there was no way in Heaven, Hell or Earth that he was going to be on the receiving end of projectile vomit.
With a nod of agreement, Hades made a successful effort to force the sticky toffee pudding back down, before collapsing against the back of his chair. "Your grandmother is Ilene Reckoning.
"That's her", said Spike, all previous concerns momentarily forgotten. "Do you know her?"
Planting his face in his hands, Hades groaned. Why did these things always happen? Every time he had recovered from one calamity, the next came along with the vengeance of a second chest infection praying on a battered immune system. It was like his life had been transformed into a melodramatic saga where the hero never catches a break and spends the entire story battling major inconveniences until they were reunited with their soul partner at the end. Hades did not even have that going for him, no dog would ever replace Persephone no matter how cute.
"It's karma", he decided. "Hayes was right, what you give is what you get. I've had this coming for a long time. Oh, why, why?" Sucking air into his lungs, Hades made a valiant effort of pulling himself back together. "Yes, I knew your grandmother. And she knew me."
Hanging his head, Hades waited for Spike's inevitable exclamation of horror. When none appeared to be forthcoming, Hades looked back at the black face and he saw he was going to have to give more clues. Blatant ones. "Your grandmother and I had a rather steamy fling in the past in which she abused me cruelly and left me heartbroken after she decided she could do better."
"Oh." It was Spike's turn to force his lunch back down. "Did Persephone know?"
"Good gracious!", cried Hades, hand clutching his heart. "This was before Persephone. I could never look at another once I saw her beautiful face. Have a seat."
"Thank you."
"Would you like some tea?"
"Sure."
"Take a biscuit."
"Thanks."
"You have to unwrap it. There're very good. Biscuit, marshmallow and chocolate, Georgie introduced me to them."
"Cool."
In this history of awkward silences there have been five which left every other eating their dust. This was based on a ranking system spanning not only the solar system containing the planet 22–Z–oop (AKA Earth) but the entirety of the known universe. The one that existed between Hades, Lord of the Underworld, and Spike, his stoic personal assistant, on that brisk November evening took the biscuit and ran with it.
Finally, Spike broke it. "So, it's all ancient history then?"
"Definitely", said Hades firmly. "Prehistory really. (Footnote 2)"
"So we never need to mention it again."
"I would prefer it to be so. Except...", Hades paused. "I don't suppose she ever started up that black market services agency that she was always thinking about?"
"Errrr, now you mention it, that would make a hell of a lot of sense."
"Damn". Hades rubbed the bridge of his nose to ease the approaching headache. "That is a nuisance. I always wondered ..... things happening ..... experienced demons disappearing in the caves .... Communication systems ..... Oh, good grief." Hades flew from his chair. "Spike, the letter Aithne sent you, do you still have it."
"Of course", said Spike, pulling out a folded parchment from a pocket by his heart.
The gesture caused Hades' heart to weep, but it was not the time for sentimentality. Holding out a hand, he asked if he may and when Spike consented, he gently unfolded the expensive parchment and scanned the page.
Beautiful cursive writing which would have made the monks of Lindisfarne throw their quills into the air and scream non-blasphemous profanities, concealed an ugly lie. Hades spotted it in a moment, it was not difficult to see the decent (for Hades' at least). There it lay, clear as day, the manipulation, the reliving of childhood memories, the inhumanity, all leading to Spike sending his sister a pair of handmade dungarees by express post.
Still appearing to consider the letter's contents, Hades waited as long as he could before he broke the news to Spike. This was going to wound the demon deeply, Hades knew; Spike just felt so much and this betrayal by a family member, his sister no less, the one he had been raised with, who was born of the same flesh, one heart and mind, it would cripple him.
Finally, knowing he could wait no longer, Hades broke the news as gently as he could.
Sighing, Spike picked up Garma who was trying to crawl up his leg and cradled her to him all sins forgiven in wake of this brutal hit. "Yeah, figures."
Hades leant back in his chair. 'That didn't sound right'.
"I'm not sure you heard me correctly", said Hades aloud.
"My sister manipulated me into sending her a present of blue knitted dungarees like the ones she mentioned we used to wear as a matching set through her less than heartfelt breakdown?" Spike smiled down at Garma who had just given his beardless chin a lick.
"Oh", said Hades, released. "I thought you'd be a little more cut up about it."
"Nah", said Spike, waving the question away. "Aithne's a scumbag. Always has been always will be. The family's pride and joy. But what does this all mean, Gov?"
Recovering from his surprise, Hades turned his mind back to business. "It means that they wanted the communication system blocked for a time. But why? And did they not know that I was away this weekend? Was there a point to that, or did you not tell them Spike?"
"I left it out of my letters", said Spike, abashed. "I, uh-hum, was a bit not happy."
"Eloquent", said Hades. "But why my dear Spike?"
The demon shrugged. "You went out with Mathias again. I have no other friends."
Hades had to laugh. "At last, you do possess a demonic quality; green-eyes jealously! Oh, you have made my day. You can always come with us next time if you like. Motorbikes are truly terrifying, but Emily seems to know what she's doing. There's only space for two but what do you think about a sidecar?"
Spike considered the offer. "I do have some standards, Gov."
"Fair," said Hades. Spike publicly expressing his feelings in a somewhat coherent way, this was turning out to be a very strange evening Hades thought. "We'll have to go and do something at some point, a meal or gig or something. But anyway, there must be something going on downstairs, something heinous. The match is afoot." Hades rose form his chair with a sardonic grin.
"You got all that from a pair of dungarees", said Spike awed.
Hades threw his hands to the sides. "I'm that good." Rubbing his hands together like a supervillain whose been going through a rough patch creatively speaking but had just been hit by a flash of inspiration, he started pacing. "Your family is truly diabolical Spike."
"Thank you."
"I mean in a bad way. You're obviously springtime personified and your mother, although the second scariest being of my acquaintance, seems pretty decent. But the rest, bastards."
"Agreed."
"We'll have to spy on them, create methods and learn the scheme. We'll get Georgie involved, she's probably good at that sort of thing. And Emily, if you don't mind that is. Oh this will be fun. Sorry by the way." Suddenly remembering he was talking about Spike's family, Hades felt a wee bit guilty.
"It's fine, they despise me anyway,", said Spike, unruffled. His expression darkened like a threatening storm in a Cornish winter. "Just don't hurt my ma."
"Spike, you have my word, even if your mother was the one behind this and had been plotting my fall for the past five millennium, not a hair on her head would be harmed. She'd be restrained of course, and denied freedom, but in the lap of luxury. Spike, she'd be an empress."
"That's all right then", said Spike standing, Garma nestled under his arm. "To bringing down my family", he said holding out a hand.
"To revenge", said Hades.
They shook.
1. Bless him
2. Archaeologists, this is your cue.