Funny thing was that she thought Spike had decided not to deal with them, not that she could talk with Andrew holding court as their personal travel agent.
She couldn't recall Spike being away from her side long enough to get a photo taken, so that was a bit of a mystery too.
"This address mean anything to you?" She read it out, while Spike flicked through the mound of tourist pamphlets Andrew had left on the dining table.
"Yeah, that's where we'll be staying. A friend's place." He was surprised that the brochure for the company who arranged nude hikes across the countryside was a more appealing publication than the brief abstracts produced by the 18-35 drunken shagfest groups. He guessed they were pushing for different markets. Still, it was amazing the diverse people trying to part tourists from their money.
Dawn sighed, Spike didn't seem terribly interested in his oddly serendipitous paperwork. "And your name is really William Fuilteach?"
"What?" She had his full attention now. Grabbing the passport, he looked at the name field and burst in laughter.
"So I take it that's not your name?"
"No, love. Our London host has an interesting sense of humour. It's Irish, translates as William the Bloody."
15minuteficlets — word #69: abstract
Part of the Rome!verse and the London!verse