Tara had never seen snow. The closest thing to ice she'd ever experienced came from the freezer in the kitchen. But she was confident that she'd braved many winters in the coldness in her father's eyes.
The sentence 'she was afraid' would be a gross understatement. As she backed away, however, she smacked into Spike's chest. It was as solid and unmoving as a brick wall. She pressed up against him and felt steadied by just his proximity.
“Tara, I'm going to ask you this just once. What is going on here?”
Her father had always seemed huge before, impossible to disobey and all knowing. She knew very well what would happen if she was standing before him all alone.
But she wasn't alone.
“Glinda and I are taking a trip. We'll send you a postcard. Now get out of the way.” Spike had started out with an almost pleasant tone but it quickly turned menacing.
“How dare you come into to MY HOUSE-“ Her father didn't get any further because when he had began to rant, he had reached out to grab her.
Tara didn't realize anything in the world could move that fast.
He had her father against the wall, pinning him there with one hand and lifting him a clear three feet off the ground by the throat. Part of Tara knew she should tug on his elbow and beg him to let the man go. She knew, deep down without knowing quite why, that he would obey her.
But she let him continue.
“I SAID Glinda and I are taking a trip. You are in my way. Do you have any idea what happens to sniveling little, girl-beating, weasels who get in my way?” He shifted into what Tara would later learn to refer to as 'game face.'
Her father's eyes widened in horror and he renewed his struggles to escape to no avail. But Tara wasn't horrified. From the first moment she realized what Spike was she had waited for this visage to appear. She was actually sort of disappointed. It was nearly as ugly as the books led her to believe. It was actually kind of beautiful in a leonine sort of way.
He let her father go and he fell to the floor, still clutching his abused throat. Tara almost winced in sympathy. She knew what that felt like. He'd done it to her enough times.
Spike made a sharp gesture towards the door with his head as he lifted the trunk again. He wanted to get a move on, clearly. Dawn was only a few hours away.
But something made Tara pause. She looked down at the man at her feet and reflected on how little power he had now. And she thought of the future.
“I'm going of my own free will, Daddy. Don't come after us. If you call the police or anything, I'll tell. I'll tell them everything. And don't give me that old line about no one believing me. I'll make them believe me. I'll keep telling people over and over until I find someone who does.” Tara didn't know where this was coming from. She had never spoken like this in her entire life. But she liked it. It was scary and strong and she didn't stutter once.
Her father's red face paled and he tried to gasp something out, but Tara was already gone, lost in the swirl of black leather that preceded her and out the door.
* * *
It was the first time Spike had ever wished he'd cleaned up before hand. The Desoto was a mess. And the poncy thoughts that were running through his head gave him no peace. She was too clean a girl to have to sit in this filth.
But Tara herself didn't even notice the state of the interior of the car. She was anxiously watching the big green highway signs going by, mentally adding up how many miles away they had gotten. She wasn't even tired. She actually felt as if she had downed cup after cup of double espresso. She kept fiddling with loose strings in the sleeve of her sweater just to give her hands something to do.
Her stomach growled suddenly, startling her. She was ravenous. It came out of nowhere. A sickening thought her all of a sudden.
She didn't have any money.
“Hungry, pet? There's a Denny's connected to the motel we're headed to. Handy for those after dawn trips. Don't even need to leave the building.”
He sounded so pleased that he'd thought of this that Tara didn't have the heart to tell him that she couldn't eat for free.
The motel was clearly cheap but it was clean. Spike seemingly had no trouble getting them a room and didn't even ask her to contribute to the cost. She appreciated that he was at least willing to house her until she did the spell for him. He was being housed as well, after all. The same could not be said for food. How could she have been so stupid? This was why she had never run away. Where would she go without money? How could she live?
They were actually sitting at the table before Tara had gotten up the courage to voice her problem. If he would pay for a few meals, he clearly had money, and then maybe she could pay him back. Tara wasn't sure how exactly but she could try.
“Think I'll have the Grand Slam Breakfast. What about you, love?”
The incongruous statement sent all thoughts of financial concerns out of her head, “Y-you eat food? I mean people food?”
The waitress walking by gave her a strange look and Tara blushed beet red. Spike couldn't help the smirk that crept up on his face. This one was just so much fun.
“Yeah. It tastes good, I eat it. How about you? Any interesting dietary habits I should know about?”
The girl shook her head, “I don't have any money! I can't pay for anything-“
Spike made a dismissive gesture, “Psssft. I hired you. I'll pay for your room and feed until we get this little spell out of the way. Its just money, love.”
He said that as if it just was something paltry, something that meant nothing to him.
“I'll have the Belgian Waffle Platter, then. With whip cream and strawberry sauce, if you can manage it from petty cash.” She managed a small smile at the grin that spread across his face.
“That's the spirit, pet. We get you few more states away from home sweet home and we do my spell. I get my girl back. We go our separate ways and live happily ever after.” The man before her was a far cry from the morose, slumped figure that she'd met in the graveyard. This plan seemed to give him a new vibrancy.
Then again, she would bet money she didn't have that she was a far cry from the meek girl he'd first met as well.
A sick feeling settled in her stomach, though, went she thought of their parting. What would she do then? Where would she go? She pushed the thought away firmly. It was days away yet and she might as well enjoy her freedom until then. She picked up her fork resolutely and dug into her waffles with relish.
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