Disclaimer: Trust me, Angel belongs to a man far more famous than I.

Special

"You think you're so special."

"Excuse me?" Doyle knew that voice. He also knew he'd never wanted to hear it again. And it should definitely not be calling him.

"How the hell did ya get my number?"

"I've got my contacts," Spike said mulishly.

"Then more to the point, why are you calling me?" Doyle demanded. They hadn't exactly hit it off the one and only time they'd met.

"I already told you, it's 'cause you think you're special," Spike replied, annoyed.

"Well now that we've cleared that up, I'll have you know my self esteem is quite comfortably low," Doyle protested, wondering if he hung up Spike would simply call back.

"Sure, man with vision-"

"Hey, whoa, how do you know about that?" Doyle cut in.

"I said I've got my contacts."

"Great, so you've got people spying on me, thanks. Why?"

"'Cause you think you're special!" Spike whined insistently.

"Look, if that's all you have to say, I'll be hanging up now to go and chat with someone who didn't try to kill me and my friends."

"I thought I was special, you know. Bloody poof gives you the time of night 'n suddenly you think you're invincible. Special." Spike paused. "But you're not, you know."

"Not special?" Doyle was pretty sure he had the gist of this conversation down pat.

"Not Buffy, idiot. Not 'the one.' Not you or me." He was apparently mistaken.

"Oh, he'll lead you on all right. Sweet words, a nice feel here'n there. But he'll back out in the end when it really counts. Just 'cause you're not a soddin' blond, which is what he really likes. And apparently it's got to look natural. I mean, you go and bleach your hair for a guy'n…" Spike trailed off. Doyle hoped fervently he'd passed out or accidentally eaten the phone or something.

"All's I'm saying is, stop thinking you're special." But he long since figured out luck was rarely on his side.

"Okay, I'm not special. Are we done now?"

"No," Spike said crossly, "'Cause I haven't set you straight yet."

"Well then, please, enlighten me so we can get this over with."

"Fine. I don't want you thinking you're special-"

"So I've heared."

"-because you are certainly not the first bloke Angel's ever slept with."

"What?" Doyle nearly dropped the phone.

"I said-"

I heard you and I have to say I think you've got the wrong idea. The amazing wrong idea."

"I most certainly do not!" Spike said.

"Look, I don't really know or care what you problem is, but I've never slept with Angel- or any other guy for that matter. I like women, love 'em, actually. One in particular's sort of caught my fancy now and-"

"Yeah, and I'm still in love with Dru. But all I'm saying is you are not special. I was with Angel for much longer than you ever will be and trust me, it'll only end in heart break. Goodbye."

Click.

Doyle mentally filed away this moment under "Things I Never Want to Ask Angel about Because I Value My Job. And Life."

Authors Notes: Well, this is the first time I've written something almost entirely dialogue. Usually it's the witty inner thoughts in between the dialogue I focus on. –laughs- Hopefully this was worth a read. Even if it wasn't, please review and pass on the sentiment. And to anyone who might recall my other stories But Why Me and The Game of Mab I promise I am working on the chapters, so they should be up shortly. -Remo