"Leave him alone." Rachel didn't bother looking up from her work.
"I'm nowhere near Andrew." Spike was draped over a Barcelona chair that he'd dragged through from reception.
Dawn bounced a ball of paper off his head. "Quit with the..." She made undulating moves with her hand. "You've seen him turn three shades of green already. I'd like to get his translation done without you torturing him for entertainment."
Rachel interrupted. "What's Hypthic for ceremony?"
"Ruth'kil." Spike caught the photocopied pages she tossed him.
"Congratulations, you're a translator. Translate that."
open_on_sunday — challenge #133: the ocean
Part of the London!verse and the Wolf&Declán!verse