We touch down without a hitch, some idiots clapping in the aistles as the attendants slowly make their way to help the lost souls find their shifted luggage. I get up and stretch, shooting one last glance at the now-sniffling brat and the mom trying her hardest to stifle a laugh. I see Spike get up, his new lady friend captivated by his deadly looks as she slowly reaches for her luggage, her eyes not once leaving Spikes. I stifle a groan and walk to the exit, giving him a shove with my shoulder while I pass.

As I leave the doors of the plane, the heat hits me full in the face. Within seconds my hair starts to curl, the moisture in the air finding its way into every crease in my body.

"God damn, why does it have to be so hot?"

I feel someone shove me from behind. Turning my head, I see it's spike. His bald head gleaming in the sunlight. He raises his hand,and I notice what he's trying to show me.

"She... She gave you her number?"

Written in black ink, across the palm of his hand, stands ten digits which, presumably, means the bastard had a better fucking trip than I had.

"Nice girl, she was. Her name's Veronica. Twenty years old, she's meeting her parents here and they're vacationing for the next week. Said she's gonna be alone until tomorrow."

I shoot Spike the most disgusted look I could.

"She's almost half your damn age, you perv! Any younger and her parents may just become our next client!". I grab Spike's hand, giving the numbers a second look over. "You should be arrested just for having this! Best give the number to me, and wipe this off your hand, before you commit any more crimes!"

Spike rips his hand from my grasp. With his other hand, he pries his phone out of his pocket. Within a few furious seconds, he has the number saved onto the traitorous device. Giving me one of his famous shit-eating grins, he brings the hand with the number to his mouth, and in one unbroken motion, licks the ink off his hand.

"Now that was just excessive. Coulda just told me no."

He grins at me a moment longer, and goes back to his phone. He taps a few commands into its screen, and a ping sounds.

"Looks like our lady in question is still in the same spot. About fifteen kilometers away from here. Let's try find a cab and get some shut-eye. She ain't getting up anytime soon, probably still sleeping off the booze."

I look around and see a single, darkened cab on the curb. We walk up to it, its owner sound asleep in the driver's seat. Spike gives a few knocks to the window, jumping the poor soul out of his slumber. He rubs his eyes a few times and points his thumb to the back seats. Spike and I cram ourselves in.

"Welcome to the Bahamas, please enjoy your stay. Where must I take you?" He asks, all semblance of patience lost to this man.

Spike takes out his phone, still with the tracking app opened, and shows it to the cab driver. The driver stares at it for a few seconds, nods his head, and starts the car. Turning swiftly onto the road without checking if it's clear, the cab driver takes off down the street.

"So... Are you two here on vacation?"

Spike tries, and fails, to get more comfortable as he answers the cab driver. "No, here on business."

"Ah..." says the cab driver, as he takes his eyes off the road to look Spike in the eyes through the rearview mirror. "What kind of business you two here for?"

"We're in the delivery industry, just here to fetch a delivery." says Spike, as he looks down at his phone.

"Ah... Interesting." mumbles the driver back.

I shoot Spike a look, but he's buried in his phone. I lean over to check what he's up to. I catch a glance at his IM's.

'Lemme know what hotel u staying at, let's go for drinks when u've settled in

-Spike'.

The cheeky fucker.