Suki Blue Fiction

Check Mate

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Doyle shook his head sadly and looked over at Angel, “and to think, Angel used to be such a good dresser.”

“If you call dressing like a ponce, good, then yeah,” Spike said with a frown. He was sure that Doyle was trying to distract him.

“I mean, c’mon, man. What the hell do you call that?” Doyle asked, pointing to Angel’s colourful shirt.

“I call that check mate,” Spike stated with a big cheesy grin.

“No way, it’s much more tartan than check.”

“No. This…” Spike said, pointing to the chess board, “is check mate.”

Doyle groaned, “Aw, god *damn* it!”

Spike chuckled and counted up his score on his tiny notepad.

“I believe that is five blow jobs you owe me. Pay up!”