Chapter 1

“Where are you going Pookie Bear?”

“Out.” Spike grimaced, he hated that stupid nickname almost as much as he loathed the girl. Just once he wished that the sodding idiot would simply let him alone, but he knew it was futile. Without looking, he could see Harmony sulking on the bed.

“When are you going to be back?” she whined. God, her voice could grate nails.

He made the mistake of actually looking at her then. Hoping to stare her into silence, instead he caught a glimpse of her arranged artfully on the bed, trying to convince him to stay just a little bit longer. Spike scowled at her.

Unrelenting, she moved her hands over her body, “It’s just that I get so lonely for you sometimes. And I don’t know where you go or what you do when you’re not here with me. Come back to bed, Blondie Bear.”

Sodding hell, the chit was going to annoy him to death. It was worse than having a flock of minions to take care of. Harmony expected things of him. Demanded to be kept informed of his comings and goings, as if they were high school sweethearts.

If he didn’t know that he was damned lucky to have anyone…that nobody else could tolerate him in the half-eviscerated state he was now… he would have had half a mind to simply stake her. Again. Only this time so that it took.

It was one of his recurring fantasies, right alongside the one where he finally got to sink his fangs into that Slayer bitch and drain her dry. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t been happy to let bloody Dracula take care of his Slayer problem for him. Course it wasn’t like he had much dealings with the Slayer anymore anyway. Once in a blue moon she came by asking for his help, but most of the time it was like he didn’t even exist.

Not that he cared. He was happy that the Slayer stayed well away from him. Happy, damn it! Whenever he bothered to think about her and her shampoo commercial hair, which was not often at all. In fact, it was rarely ever. Hardly at all.

Most days he spent his time fantasizing about staking the stupid bint he’d been saddled with. Yes, staking Harmony was something that he fantasized about almost daily. He couldn’t deny that at first he’d been glad of the company, but that feeling had begun to fade quickly. No, until recently his rational mind had imagined that eternal loneliness would be even worse than her sodding company. Harmony just rubbed his last nerve, like a never-ending toothache. Only thing worse than enduring the ache would be the permanency of the cure.

Spike just didn’t think he was cut out for celibacy. He’d tried it in his human days, and hadn’t liked it.

At first, at least, the sex with Harmony had been good. Not great, but good. And he knew for damn sure that it was better than the alternative. If that old wives tale were true, he’d be blind for sure. Vamps were not meant to be solitary creatures.

But Harmony’s company was hard to take. And he had lived with Drusilla for a hundred years, so that was saying something. He knew well enough what difficult women were like.

And then there was the thing about the blood. Spike just didn’t get it. Harmony was a vampire, for Crissakes. An unchipped vampire. What’d she have to go and start drinking his supply of bagged blood for? He knew she did. It vanished way too fast. She wouldn’t admit to it though. But he’d seen the tell-tale remains in the trash. What was with that, anyway?

At least it gave him an excuse to go out.

As if he needed an excuse!

He was a master vampire, dammit! Undead over a hundred bloody years! Killed himself two Slayers in his day! Had earned himself another name: Slayer of Slayers. Unlike Dracula, he’d earned his sobriquet, not sold his story to some poncy writer for a few quid and suddenly found himself an instant celebrity in the demon and human world alike. No, Spike’d had to track down the bints himself, and then take them on one on one. Nothing about his fame had been cheap. He’d worked hard to earn himself that title.

Of course that day was long past now that he was permanently hobbled by bits of plastic and wire, but he knew that he had better get used to it, unless he could get the bloody chip out of his head. Let’s see how long that fair weather friend of a Slayer lasted then.

Ignoring the girl mewling on the bed, Spike made sure to slam the crypt door on his way out. This was what he was reduced to. Slamming doors to show his frustration. He needed to find something to kill. Preferably several somethings.

Otherwise he’d have to start a fight at work.

Work!

Now there was a joke and a half. What kind of life was that for a demon? Solid, law-abiding work! Well…almost.

Even if his job did entail taking out the odd demon or two. As well as other, less tangible fringe benefits.

And the sad fact of it was, working at the Rooster had become his sanctuary away from Harmony. The fact that the pay was good and the work not unpleasant had become secondary to his desire to be someplace that she emphatically was NOT. Even hanging around the Slayer and her lot, on the rare occasions when she’d tolerate him, which was only when she needed him for something, even that was preferable to staying home. It wasn’t that he actually liked spending time with the Slayer and her lot. Not at all. It was just better than the alternative. And it paid a damn sight better too.

Spike was late to work, but not by much. Jim, the owner of the Club, didn’t mind. He was just glad the Spike was finally there. Kept the patrons and the other workers safe from the things that went bump in the night.

Of course sometimes the patrons were the things that went bump in the night, but Jim tried not to notice. As long as they behaved and nobody got hurt, their money was as green as anyone’s. Especially now that he had Spike there to help keep the more ‘rowdy’ crowd in line. On occasion Spike even served up the odd spot of beer or whatever.

Surprisingly, Spike had found that he actually rather enjoyed his job. He usually got a good look at the entertainment, and the free drinks were a definite plus, especially since he didn’t even have to steal them. On the best nights he got to beat up a few drunk demons that were passing for human and had temporarily forgotten where they were. If he didn’t need the money so desperately he’d probably keep coming here just for the fun of it. Well, that and the chance to get away from the missus for a bit. And to forget the other blonde who seemed to populate his dreams of late. If nothing else, he was likely to die of sheer frustration if he didn’t find some relief now and again.

The crowds at the Rooster had been getting steadily larger since Spike had come to work for Jimmy. Of course, not finding your patrons snacking on the help, or corpses in your parking lot, tended to be good for business.

But the shows had been improving too. Used to be there were only one or two girls a night. Now there were at least five or six. And they were prettier too. Or maybe that was just Harmony’s influence; making everyone that wasn’t Harmony seem more attractive.

Spike poured himself a tall one and took his place by the stage, nodding to the human bouncers, George and John, before turning to watch the girl that was baring her stuff on the stage. Taking a deep draught he realized that if he absolutely had to work (and he did) this was the best gig he could ever hope for. The occasional cash the Slayer threw his way was barely enough to cover his smokes, let alone set him up with a reliable source of nourishment. Some help she had turned out to be. If he had to depend on her non-existent kindness, he would have starved months ago.

Now, if he could just get Harmony to shut up once in a while, he could almost be content. And if he ever really needed dosh, well, he had his stash. Or he could take to robbing the patrons, or perhaps he’d simply give in and work Thursday nights.

When he’d unexpectedly found himself in need of ready cash to secure to steady flow of pre-packaged blood, he’d tried the thievery route first, of course. He was a fair pick-pocket, if he put his mind to it. But it wasn’t much fun.

Then he’d tried scaring a few gits into giving up their wallets, and that had been more satisfying, until he came across one bloke who refused to be intimated. Back in the day Spike would have wiped the floor with him, but as things stood now, courtesy of G.I. Joe, he was defenseless against humans.

The end result had been bad. Unable to fight back, he’d been beaten and bruised so badly he’d barely made it home before sunrise. Of course he hadn’t told Harmony. He’d come back to the crypt with tales of having had a run in with the Slayer. The truth was far too embarrassing.

After that experience he decided to drop mugging from his repertoire. If he ever got caught there was nothing he could do but run. If the intended mark had been just a bit faster on the uptake, if anyone as much as snagged his arm, Spike would be trapped, unable to get away or to fight back without the chip going off. He wouldn’t risk that again.

But the possibility of being forced to work Thursdays made him shudder. Thursday nights were Lady’s Nights. Although Spike knew that some of the other bouncers did it, he swore he never would. Take his clothes off for a bunch of fat, old broads? Not likely. He may not have much left to him anymore, but at least he had his pride.

At least he thought he did, until he turned around to get himself another beer and came face to face with a screeching Harmony. Fuck. She’d followed him. He was sure to get an earful now.

Chapter 2

It shouldn’t have bothered him that George and Tom were right within earshot while he had this conversation with Harmony, but it did. When early on they’d asked him about his girlfriend, (perhaps disappointed that he had one), he’d surprised himself that his first reaction had been to try and describe Buffy to them both.

And that had been BEFORE the sodding nightmare of a dream. Although at the time the thought gave him a bit of a shock, he rationalized that he spent more of his time daydreaming about the Slayer than he did about Harmony. Of course it was mainly…that is to say, ENTIRELY… about how to get even with her for the way she treated him, like he was her lap dog or something.

No, not even that. Like he was a stray cat that she’d let in her house when she had a problem with rats, and then toss out again to live in a stinking alley feeding on garbage until the next time the rodents bothered her.

That was exactly how she treated him. He wasn’t sure that just killing her outright in a fair fight was good enough anymore. It had become personal between them.

Ever since sodding last year and Red’s damned-all spell. It wasn’t like Buffy had to act like she was all disgusted by the very idea. He was a damn handsome bloke, and it’s not like she had a revulsion to vampires. She’d seemed happy enough when she was snogging his ungrateful prat of a sire. He sure would treat her a damned sight better, if she ever gave him the time of day.

Luckily he had caught himself in time when talking to the humans, and had forced visions of Buffy from his mind and had gone on to describe Harmony as best he could. “Great to look at, good to screw, but so annoying it almost isn’t worth it,” was the most succinct way that he could put it.

Now, with Harmony’s unanticipated appearance, the ‘almost’ was fast disappearing.

“This is where you go?” she screeched. “You leave me, to come to this, this slime pit? This is worse than Willy’s. Almost everyone’s human. And god, those dancers are so lame.”

He tried to explain. “Harm, I’m working here. This is a job.”

She wasn’t listening, continuing her rant. Like usual. Best just to let her finish. But outside, if at all possible. With a nod towards the boss, he began backing Harmony out the door she had just come in, and dragged her a little ways out of the way.

After listening to her denigrate the patrons, the décor, and the entertainment for the umpteenth time, Spike was grateful when it seemed that Harmony was finally running out of steam. She put her hands on her hips and flounced back her hair, “So. What’s your excuse, Mr. Master Vampire? Not vamp enough to keep up with me, you have to come to this seedy joint to get your jollies on?”

It was beyond endurance. If he didn’t find some kind of physical release he really was going to end up staking her again, and this would be for the last time. The Gem of Amarra was long gone. Closing his eyes and tensing his jaws in frustration, he opened them again to see Harmony’s smug face glaring at him. If he wasn’t a gentleman, he’d slap her one.

Wait, yeah, he wasn’t a gentleman. Seething, he slapped her across the face. Not nearly as hard as he could have. But it seemed to have the desired affect. At least she shut up.

Only now her eyes were brimming with tears. Spike was a sucker for tears.

He was a total git. He knew Harmony was basically harmless. She didn’t even really like killing humans. Total waste of a vampire. Any other vamp, could have taken it, and dished it back at him. Hell, any other vamp would have liked it. But instead he was stuck with Harmony, and in another second he’d have a blubbering mess on his hands. That’d be even more embarrassing than the self-righteous tone she’d come in with.

Wiping away her tears with his thumbs, he spoke softly, caressing and kissing her hair. He was a total idiot. He had been given a gift, in the form of this totally annoying and completely helpless vampiress. He should have known better than to strike her. He wasn’t normally the type to hit a woman, any woman. Not even if they annoyed the heck out of him. Not even if he intended to kill them and eat them. Well, excepting the Slayer, where it kinda went with the whole duel to the death idea. And really, fighting the Slayer always made him kinda hot…if he thought about it, which he did NOT.

“I tried to tell you, it’s not like that, pet,” he soothed. “I work here. This is a job. I keep all the nasties away from the patrons, and they pay me for it. Keeps us in blood and smokes, yeah.”

Harmony sniffled and rubbed her face against his chest. After a few moments she pulled herself together enough to stare up at him. “Your job?” she whimpered.

“Yeah, luv. Job. Where do you think I get money?”

“Thought you just stole it or something,” she sniffled. The shirt would have to be tossed. It’s not like either of them ever did laundry.

“Tried that. Too bloody dangerous. So why don’t you toddle on home and I’ll be back later, yeah?” With any luck that would be the end of it.

Of course he could never be that lucky. She perked up so fast Spike half suspected that the tears had been an act. But then Harmony was sometimes just changeable like that. She took the saying “out of sight out of mind” to a whole new level.

Fingering the already fading bruise on her cheek, and then his leather jacket, Harmony looked up at him eyes sparkling, and licked her lips. “You want to go home now, pookie?”

The implications were inescapable. The violence HAD turned her on. Of course she wasn’t as fragile as she liked to put on. It was easy to forget, because the mask was all that he ever saw of her. She could be a whole other person underneath, that he didn’t know at all. Then again this was Harmony, so it wasn’t likely that there was much of anything under that mask. Not like the Slayer, who pretended to ignore her feelings, but was really hot and he suspected kinda kinky underneath the Buffy persona she put on for her Mom and her friends.

And where the Hell had that thought come from?

“Can’t sweets,” he said with sudden regret. Maybe a good hard screw was just what he needed to get his mind off of things that were better left alone. Some thoughts were simply too dangerous, or too painful, to be worth thinking at all. The sooner he got his mind back on the real world, the better off he’d be. The Slayer was never going to see him as anything but useful for eradicating vermin. “I’m working, remember?”

Changing moods again, Harmony strode passed him and into the club. “I want to see what it’s like. I’ve never been in a strip club before.” Bright eyed now so that Spike couldn’t be sure just how much he’d been played, Harmony surveyed the scene like she was Queen of the night.

Mumbling under his breath, Spike followed.

**
Inside once again, Harmony took a seat near the stage and started acting like one of the customers. She ordered a drink (a little fruity thing that Spike wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole), and settled in to watch the girls perform. Happily, she let Spike alone enough that he could actually do his job, and intimidate the demon patrons into behaving.

After the last of the patrons and workers had been seen safely to their vehicles, Spike and Harmony began their walk home together. Surprisingly, she let them walk in silence for a while. When she finally spoke, Spike was shocked by what she said.

“I could do that.”

His first reaction was instinctive. “You bloody well will not!” No girlfriend of his was going to parade herself around like that for other men! It just, well, it just wasn’t right.

Of course his protests made her more determined.

“Why not? I’m just as pretty as those girls – prettier. And it’s not like even one of them could dance! I could probably earn as much in one night as you do in a week. Then you wouldn’t have to go to that horrible place so often and leave me home all alone.”

“Interfering bitch. I like going there,” Spike mumbled so quietly not even Harmony could catch it. What he said instead was simply, “No. Not gonna happen. I’m not gonna let some sodding human bastards ogle and paw at MY girl. So just forget it.”

“But that’s the fun of it. I’ll know that if I wanted to, I could vamp at any time and eat the lot of them! That’s what makes the idea so entertaining.”

“Ruin my club,” he mumbled again. As usual, Harmony wasn’t listening to him. He’d have to lay down the law. “The answers no, Harm. It’s a bad idea, and I’m not gonna let you do it, so just drop it, okay?”

Hoping that he’d made his point when Harmony fell silent again, they continued back to the crypt without speaking. Upon entering however, Harmony immediately declared, “You can help me practice.”

A stunned Spike was pushed back into the easy chair as an enthusiastic Harmony began bumping and grinding, repeating some of the moves she’d watched the strippers perform.

The argument lasted two full weeks, during which time Spike would emphatically state that he was not going to allow Harmony to do any such thing on stage, while Harmony repeatedly and continuously stated that she’d do whatever she pleased.

Either way, Harmony continued to ‘practice’ her routine, and Spike continued to ‘help’ her. It made for some of the best sex they’d had since getting together again, so Spike wasn’t going to complain too much. At least it had the effect of keeping his mind away from subjects that he didn’t want to think about. Mostly because he could barely think at all he was so busy shagging.

In his heart he knew that Harmony didn’t really have the stones to do in public what she willingly practiced for him in private. She wasn’t tough underneath, like the Slayer. Or, if she was, it was in a totally self-centered way. Really, aside from the hair color, there was precious little that the two birds had in common. Except that they could both be damned stubborn when they wanted to.

If he’d been just a little more devious he would have realized that the best way to put an end to this foolishness would have been to stop voicing his objections to her plans. It was only in hindsight that he realized that every time he said ‘no,’ he made Harmony more determined to say that she would, just to spite him.

Chapter 3

It was pitiful. When he wasn’t working at the Rooster, he was lurking around the Slayer’s house, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Not that she even deigned to notice him. She had to know that he was there – but she never even so much as threatened to stake him or, gods forbid, simply talked to him and asked him what he thought he was doing, hanging around outside her house.

Tossing his last cig of the evening and reluctantly heading towards the Rooster, Spike realized that he wasn’t going to even get a glimpse of the Slayer tonight. It wasn’t that he enjoyed spending all his free time stalking a woman who didn’t care if he was alive or dust. It was just that his unlife had become such a drag that the time weighed on him. A man needed a hobby. And if he couldn’t slay Slayers anymore, the least he could do was hope for a peek when she didn’t know he was watching. For some reason that he didn’t question too closely, he found the idea far more arousing than the constant barrage of tits and ass on display at the bar.

It was two weeks to the day when Harmony had announced that she was going to star in her own premier at the strip club. Tonight was supposed to be her big debut, but Spike would have bet money that it wasn’t going to happen. He’d just laughed and left while Harmony was still going through her clothes, deciding which outfit to wear over to the club. Her ‘stage outfit’ had been chosen long ago, and had already seen many a practice session. Harmony’s determination that everything be perfect for her big performance would have driven Spike to violence if he’d paid the least bit of attention to it. Instead he had simply chuckled and then walked out to see what the Slayer was up to before heading over to the club.

Harmony had her uses, but unfortunately companionship wasn’t one of them. Course he was used to that for the most part. Dru hadn’t been much of a conversationalist either. At least not of the sane variety. At least she had always kept him guessing. Harmony was more like an open book – or a record stuck on the same few notes. Whatever time Spike was forced to spend with his flatmate, he made sure that the majority of it was spent shagging, even if his heart wasn’t in it. After all the abuse it had already seen, it was a wonder the costume was still serviceable.

Nearly choking on his beer as Spike spied Harmony entering the club through the back, he belatedly realized that his laughter had probably been ill considered. He never imagined that she would actually take this thing so far. Now that she was here, short of physically hauling her out of the club, if Harmony really was determined to perform there was nothing he could do to stop her.

Deciding that he might as well try to enjoy it, he poured himself another beer. There had to be some perks to having a girlfriend who was a stripper. Over the weeks he’d watched Harmony practice, she’d actually put together a pretty good routine.

And the patrons always liked new talent. And if there was one phrase that described Harmony, ‘nice rack’ would be at the top of the list. Right after ‘dumb as a stone.’

It was an odd feeling waiting for his girlfriend to come out on stage and strut her stuff for all and sundry, but it wasn’t as unpleasant as Spike had thought it would be. In fact, in a way, it was a little bit intoxicating. Something the William part of him thought of as forbidden. Just like the demon thought that having sex with the one woman in all the world chosen to … Quickly he edited the thought.

… More like having sex in a public place. Yes, that was what he meant. Something exciting, but not dangerous. And definitely not involving females that could as easily kill him as look at him. Just a bit a of a thrill, that’s all.

His thoughts kept him amused until Harmony actually stumbled onto the stage. After having obsessed for days over it, her hair, makeup, and costume were perfect. One thing about Harmony, she was always a looker. And the advantage of this gig, was that Harmony didn’t need to open her mouth and ruin it all. Nobody could give a damn if she could even talk, so long as the clothes came off.

And that was just the problem. They weren’t coming off. The music was playing, but Harmony wasn’t doing the dance she had spent two weeks practicing. Instead she was standing awkwardly, peering out at the assembled crowd as if surprised to see them there.

Bloody hell, he’d known this was a mistake. Another minute and the crowd was going to turn ugly. He had to get Harmony off the stage and another girl on, fast, or things were going to turn violent. Of course Jim and the other bouncers were totally oblivious to the fact that Spike would be less than useless in a fight involving human patrons.

Quickly moving to climb up on the stage, the owner grabbed Spike’s arm and stopped him for a moment. “Just so’s we’re clear. If she doesn’t perform, I’m docking your pay for the five hundred dollars I advanced her.”

This time he couldn’t hold back the scream of outrage. “Bloody hell!”

Five hundred dollars! What had the stupid bint done with five hundred dollars? He couldn’t afford to have his pay docked, not by that much. Harmony might have other menu choices available, but Spike needed money to buy blood. He depended on it. Sure he had a little money put by that he could dig up in a hurry, but not enough to make that kind of loss inconsequential. If he needed real cash, he’d have to leave town to get it, and he really didn’t want to do that.

The crowd was chanting now, trying to persuade Harmony to perform. If anything, her reticence had whet their appetite. It was pretty obvious that this was her first time stripping, and they wanted to be there to see it. She really did look hot in the scanty cheerleader costume she’d chosen. Like a sacrificial virgin, Harmony’s status as a novice, combined with her apparent youth, just added that much more zest to the experience for the patrons.

Provided that she actually got on with the show, of course.

Harmony still hadn’t so much as moved. She appeared to be staring into the lights, like a particularly stupid deer. When Spike entered her field of vision she blinked.

He didn’t really have much of a thrall. Had never really wanted one. But if it was going to work on anyone, it was going to work on Harmony.

He tried to gesture to the crowd to settle down, but they didn’t quiet much. He moved so that he alone encompassed Harmony’s field of vision, stared into her eyes, and tried to initiate the thrall. With his right hand, unobtrusively, he motioned for the soundman to start the song again. Harmony had practiced so many damn times to this song, he hoped that she would start moving with just the slightest encouragement. He smiled into her eyes and curled his tongue.

Harmony stared back and began to lick her lips. Gently moving behind her, he put his hands on her hips and started her swaying to the beat. Luckily that was all the encouragement she needed, as she launched into her routine.

Quickly dodging out of the way, Spike tried to return to his spot just under the stage. But Harmony was faster. She grabbed him and stationed him on the stage with her. He wasn’t sure if his attempted thrall had actually worked, or if Harmony had just finally found her courage, but either way it was obvious that she still needed his presence. They had invariably practiced the dance together, and it was only now that Spike realized that he had become an integral part of the dance for Harmony. She just wasn’t the kind of person who could do anything on her own. He just needed her to finish so he could get her off the stage, and back home where she belonged. Even if it meant he was now part of the act.