***
It was typical, really, the complete lack of common courtesy.
Spike had just got himself situated--reclined lazily in his shoddy green chair and propped nicely in front of the television to wait for daytime TV to begin its monotonous mutiny on the early afternoon. A leg was strewn comfortably over the side, bottle of Jack mixed with some nicked O-Neg in hand to keep him company.
Typical, you see, that as soon as the Dawson’s Creek theme song starts to pluck its way into existence, his crypt door would breeze open on its own.
Wait, no. Scratch that.
“Spike,” the Slayer belts out, storming through his crypt like she owns the place. Isn’t exactly a friendly hello, not even a casual acknowledgment. It's a direct order, one, apparently, dwindled down to his name alone. Like he's some kinda mutt, some pathetic puppy to bark at her heels and obey.
“Get up.”
And there's the command, from Pavlov herself.
By now she’s situated herself between him and the television, that thin form managing to block his view of whatever tight shirt Joey had been wearing this time.
Well, then. Seems he has to play along. More fun that way, besides.
He looks up, meets her eyes. Brings the glass to his mouth and smirks: “Make me.”
Her eyes flare. “Get. Up.“
Spike settles further into the chair. Might’ve even let his legs slide further apart, on account of getting himself cozier. “Flat out demand, is it? Sorry, Slayer. I don’t follow orders from self-involved cheerleaders.”
On cue, a flash of wood whisks before his eyes. “How ‘bout,” she says, cold smile to brighten them stretched tight features, “your local pest control?” The stake waves mere inches from his face, close enough that he can smell the bark. “I mean, really. I’ve been looking for a good enough reason to stake you--”
“Yeah, you got me. Sitting here watching the telly. Ohhh,” he mocks, “of all the menacing things I could be doing.”
“Haven’t you ever read the footnotes, Spike?” Her lips form a pretty painted ’o’. “Being a useless pain in the ass is probable cause.”
“Or maybe,” he says, finally dropping his leg back over the arm of the chair to sit up fully, to square off right and proper, “you just don’t like being told ‘no’? Used to the trail of bumbling idiots dotting after you like you’re some kinda Superhero. Aren't you? The pathetic sidekicks. The loyal lackeys.”
She takes a menacing step forward. Waits a dramatic beat. Then, with her voice full of contempt, she says, in much too sultry of a voice, “Maybe I just like to hear you bark?”
That hits close to home, too close, so he gets up, gets to his feet. Pushes past her and moves elsewhere, out of hitting range, because if he has to share the same breath with that bitch any longer, sod the chip and its bleeding repercussions, he was clocking her. A fist to the face… maybe something truly poetic, like a punch to the nose. Let her see firsthand just how stinging that one feels.
“Look,” her nasally little voice whines from behind while he purposely ignores her, scouring his fridge instead for something decent to eat. “I need your help.”
He doesn’t bother to poke his head out of Mr. Kenmore’s insides. “Funny how I don’t care.”
“I’m not asking you to care,” she snaps.
He slams the door to the mini-fridge shut, fed up. “Don’t really care what you’re asking me, Slayer. All the same, the answer’s no.”
She stares for a long moment, looking disgusted and annoyed, every little upset adding to her thinly pressed features. “If you just hear me out--”
“What part of our duel existence do you not understand? Vampire, here. Could care less about you, your do-gooding, moral-happy ways, or anything else you’re here to pitch. Sod off.”
“What if I said there was something in it for you?”
That catches his attention, catches it more than anything else she could’ve said. On instinct, his eyes narrow, looking for the wad of cash that has to be hidden somewhere on that body of hers. A pocket, maybe. The lining of her boots. “How much?”
Instead of obliging by forking over the money and maybe a fair bit of gratitude, she stands there like a limp doll. “Let’s just say," she answers, "you’ll live to see another day.”
He all but gapes. “That—that right there—that’s your sodding offer?”
Her silent stare, eyes locked dead with his, confirms it.
"You are completely off your nut," he starts to laugh, mostly at her, "if you think that's enough to sway me to the dark-side, Slayer."
She looks pissed. Sounds pissed, too, when she says, "See, the thing you haven't realized yet is that we have the kind of relationship that doesn't include negotiations."
"I wasn't under the impression we had any relationship at all, other than the obvious: me wanting to kill you."
"And that relationship," she continues without acknowledgment, "is pretty single-handedly run by me. I'm One-Handed Buffy, as far as you're concerned."
Spike cocks an eyebrow. Does the bint even realize the garbage she spits out, disguised as words?
"Which means," she goes on, by way of further asserting her dominant stature by prolonged babbling, "what I say goes. I get the first and last word. I tell you what to do, you listen. I say jump, you land on the nearest available stake. Are you getting any of this, or do I need to paint a more clear word picture?"
He complies with a dry smile. "Only problem is, I still don't care."
She looks well and truly past the point of rational thinking. Looks uptight as near anything Spike has ever seen; too wound up, too bitchy. Like a spoiled little princess who'd just gotten daddy's t-bird taken away. "Let’s go."
Again, there's that demand.
"Don't you have friends?" he says instead. "You haven't scared 'em all off, have you? That time of the month?" He gives the surrounding air a good, over-exaggerated whiff. "Well, not nearly as I can tell--"
She starts stomping towards him, bouncy hair springing at her shoulders.
He can't help but laugh. What's she going to do, strap a leash on him and tug him along? Because short of that and a forced lobotomy, there's isn't a damn thing that'd get him to--
"Ow! Bloody hell."
She looks pleased with herself, fist still half-cocked, a smug smile tugging at her mouth. The brunt of the punch she'd tossed and landed was at his nose, and, Jesus, she'd nearly cracked the thing.
"Want a repeat?" she cheerfully asks, still posed to attack.
Spike dabs at the blood flow, glaring at her. "What was that for?"
She drops the fighting stance. Shakes her shoulders, like she's working out the kinks--like she's the one that has bloody kinks to work out. "You really need a better listening system," she declares.
His glare hardens.
With a great air of importance, she swishes on her heels, turns back around, and starts striding towards the crypt entrance, mouth flapping. "This thing is huge--we're talking stories, as in its at least two--and the smell--lets just say, it'll make this place seem like a bed of roses."
Bitch. No need for personal insults. His place was just fine, and besides, what's it to her?
"Giles says it's an easy kill--"
"Ah, and it all makes sense," he calls after her, following. "You're slipping. Yeah. Punches not landing like they used to, moves not as fast."
She doesn't stop walking, but she does turn and level him with a look. "It takes two people to kill. Head, heart. And as already mentioned, this thing is legendarily gigantic. It's a skyscraper, as far as demons go."
"Still not seeing where yours truly makes an appearance."
She does stop at that, and, oh, there's that look again. Same ol' brand of boring and predictable that says I'm the Slayer and I say so. "You've had it easy around here lately, haven't you?"
He can't help the outrage that makes him yelp like a poofter. "Oh! Easy! Are you completely daft?! You're always around--"
"Hello! Vampire slayer! My entire job description can basically be summed up by the word cemetery."
"Well not this one! There are plenty other places to haunt and, yet, here you are, all the time."
Her hands fold neatly across her chest. Mouth is all pinched. "Then maybe, Spike," she says, each word carefully bitten out, "you should find a new crypt to call home. Somewhere, I don't know. Not here?"
Spike gives her the same tight smile back that she's giving him. "Working on it."
"Oh, goody, Spike's put out 'for rent' ads. That should reel in the locals."
"Uh, yeah. It should. Hello. Sunnydale? Great big center of all that is evil in this world? Ringing any bells?"
"Shut up."
He snorts. “That stung.”
She stares at him for a long beat, just staring and no doubt mentally staking him, torching him, beheading him over and over again. Princess has got a touch for the violence that way.
With more of that dramatic flair, she turns back around and heads for open waters, saying, “Grab something sharp and shiny. You have two seconds, Spike. After that, I’m not asking again.”
Firmly rooted in place—a man’s got his sense of self-respect, after all, not to mention that admirable trait of blinding indifference—he watches her go. “And I don’t follow?”
Her voice is barely above a murmur. Even so, he hears the threat loud and clear. “I don’t think you want to call my bluff, Spike.”
Then she’s out the door, and he’s left staring at nothing.
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!