Interview With the Spike

He looked at the front jacket of the hardcover book. "Rush Limbaugh: His Life Story" was announced in big bold words, along with a lovely picture of Rush. Spike grinned to himself. No one would want to read this rubbish!

He opened the book to the title page. "'Interview With the Vampire' by Anne Rice" it read. He felt almost giddy with excitement. It had been such a long long time since he has read about Louis, Lestat, and Claudia. They had always reminded him of he, Angel, and Dru. Of course, he was Lestat! And Angel, that little softie with a soul was Louis, and Dru their Claudia.

He turned the page and began to read, the words wrapping themselves around his brain and transporting him to another place, another time....

[an indertiminable amount of time later...]

Spike sniffed, feeling the tears flow as they always did when he got to that part. "Claudia!" he cried. "Poor little Claudia!" It was just so awful, so unbearably unfair! "Louis, I feel for you, mate," he whispered, his broken sobs echoing off the walls. The suffering she had gone through, of never being more than a child...and then her horrible death! Spike could almost feel the harsh, burning rays of the sun, lifegiver to mortals and lifetaker to the undead. It was all a mass of unjustness, of the world's cruelty, of pain undeniable all woven together in a tangled web of gossamer hurt!

He couldn't take it anymore. He broke down and wept, clutching the book to his heart, his sobs heaving so greatly he almost tipped the wheelchair sideways. "No!" he cried over and over, grief racking his body. He wheeled around, looking for the one object that might ease his torment. After all, Angel hardly used it now that he had his soul back.

Spike found it and began to feel the hurt ease off him; but it was like having a giant weight on his chest, on top of which was a feather, and only the feather was removed, blowing off in the breeze to freedom while he was trapped underneath.

He tucked the violin against his chin and bore down on the strings, the bow sweeping back and forth like the pendulum of time, summoning forth notes and tunes that were plucked from his deep, inner being. For after all, he had no soul.

But soul or not, he could still feel pain. And he played and played, the maudlin tune carrying on the crying in a different way. He played for a long time, until he felt better, and put the violin back.

Snot Boy walked through the room. "That was just great, mate. Truly. Very impressive...almost as impressive as my spoon collection. You're not a wanker like Angel at all."

Spike smiled through the last of his pain. "Thanks, Adam-"

"Snot Boy!" Snot Boy corrected. "Just remember that, *William*..."

Spike nodded and winked. "Okay, Snot Boy. You are a great friend."

"Thanks!" Snot Boy said, and walked off, calling over his shoulder, "I'm going to Moe's for a pint..."

Spike chuckled to himself, then returned to the novel. Snot Boy was the only one who knew his secret, for it was Snot Boy himself who introduced Spike to the world of Anne Rice's undead.

He read on and on, becoming absorbed in the story, until that last, fateful meeting between Louis and the decrepit Lestat. He felt the tears well up again, and this time he decided not to hold them back. He cried with abandon for the pain in Louis' heart, for the guilt in Lestat's. he cried so hard he didn't hear the door opening...

"Hey Speed Racer!" he heard Angelus call out. "Did ya have fun while I was gone? Didn't need any help reaching those objects on the top shelf did you? Y'know, I saw this commercial on TV for this mobile wheelchair with a seat that goes up and down...I think it was called the Rascal. Interested in getting one?"

Spike's heart was beating furiously. He wish the Sun would rise and shoot some light at him so he could avoid Angelus, who was *bound* to see his tears. Spike tried to roll away, to keep his face from Angelus' view.

"Shut up you bloody wanker!" he called over his shoulder.

Angelus could tell something was wrong. "Oh Spikey-poo did I catch you at a wrong time?" He laughed, an evil sound that echoed off the walls and made Spike feel like he was surrounded. "Oh, cheer up! Remeber," he put his hand to his chest and made a hopeful yet sad face, "every rose has it's thorn...just like every night has it's dawn, just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song..." His false compassion melted away into another fit of evil laughter.

Spike tucked the book under his blanket hoping Angelus wouldn't notice it. He was pretty sure his face held no more tears. He turned to face Angelus, putting on his best Cool-Spike demeanor.

"Why don't you just leave, Angelus. Nobody wants you here." He said, his voice like ice.

Angelus gave him a wicked smile. "Ah, but you don't know that, Spike old boy! Why, just last night, Dru was telling me how much she wanted me; and of course, I'm a nice person, so how could I refuse?" Angelus shrugged his shoulders and then proceeded to once more spew forth evil laughter. He turned around and headed out.

Spike, enranged, tried to get out of the wheelchair, do *anything* to get back at him. Instead he settled for giving Angelus the finger. But in his enraged state, the book fell out of his lap. Angelus heard the sound and turned around, hoping that maybe Spike had fallen out of his chair. He saw the book, saw Spike's reddened face, and snatched it before Spike could get it.

He looked at the dustcover, frowned, removed it, and read the true title.

*Oh this was good!* He gave a chuckle. *Too, too good!* Angelus grew more and more excited as he realized the full situation. He cackled and laughed like he never had before. Spike was furious, but couln't do anything. All of a sudden, Angelus' face went from laughter to shock, and then there was nothing more of Angelus except for a fine dust that settled between Spike and Snot Boy.

"Thank you, Snot Boy," Spike said with the most sincerity he ever felt in his vampire life. "I owe you one!"

Snot Boy shrugged. "I never liked that bloody wanker anyhow. Wanna join me at Moe's?"

Spike nodded. "Sure, my kick-ass Poptart!"

Snot Boy started to wheel him out of the warehouse. "Oh, I've just got to pick up some Passengers on the way there."

"No problem, Snot Boy!" Spike said, forever indebted to him.

After that, Spike and Snot Boy would hold a public gathering every Wednesday at the Sunnydale Library and read excerpts from Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, as well as do the occasional Greenpeace thing. Spike enjoyed this much more than being evil. He eventually set up an orphanage for children whose parents were killed by vampires, and he married Buffy and Willow (because polygamy was allowed in Sunnydale) and became good friends with Giles;every Saturday night they would attend the midnight showing of RHPS at the Sunnydale Cinaplex. He went bowling every Friday night with Xander.

He realised that the world could be so loving if only he could learn to do good. So he would walk the streets of Sunnydale dressed in a bumble bee costume and handed flowers out to everyone he saw, like that touching commercial on the TV. Sunnydale soon had a nickname for their most famous Good Samaritan: Sweetheart Spike.

Author's Note: yes i realise that this story is moronic...it's sort of a torture Spike story. Heh heh...just wait till Jenni MST's it... :)