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The man walked down the sidewalk
with the weight of the world on
his shoulders. He had come to Sunnydale trying to escape his fate.
It
seemed like everyone in the world wanted a piece of him. He kicked
a
stone and watched it dance across the street. He didn't see the figure
lurking behind him.
The figure stayed in the
shadows. Watching every move the man
made, following him with a lyncean gaze. He struck a match on the side
of a building and brought it to the cigarette dangling from his mouth.
The warm glow of the flame bottom lit his features, casting wicked
shadows onto his face. With white-blonde hair and nice cheekbones,
he
could have been strikingly handsome, but in this light he looked like
a creature of evil. Angular features and a cold glare coming from almost
reptilian eyes. Lusus naturae. Freak of nature. Demon. Nosferatu.
Vampire. He had many names, including the moniker that he chose to
go
by, Spike.
Spike exhaled the smoke
and tossed the smoldering match into a
nearby dumpster, igniting its contents. The unmistakable smell of
burning flesh and gasoline filled his nostrils and he stepped into
the
street. Still sizing up the man ahead of him, Spike decided he would
be
easy pickings. He was so wrapped up in his mortal concerns he didn't
even sense his presence. He sped up a bit, his leather trenchcoat
swirling around him as he walked.
Nearing the man, Spike morphed
into human form and spoke, "Wait
up, Mate. I want to talk to you."
"Leave me alone," came the
man's response.
"Hey, play nice. That's
no way to treat your savior, now, is
it?" Spike said, his British voice clipped in annoyance. Who did this
bastard think he was anyway?
The man stopped in his tracks,
"What do you mean? 'My savior'?
How are you going to save me?"
"Well," Spike began, starting
to think this twerp wasn't worth
the effort, "I noticed you seem to be 'avin' a rough spot of it. I
thought I could help. Be a soundin' board, of sorts. Someone to get
blotto with, per'aps?"
"Look, 'Mate'," the man
said, turning around, revealing an
almost cherubic face, that of a boy, not a man at all, "I doubt you
could be of any help to me."
"You," Spike breathed, recognizing
the man.
"Oh, God, no. Just leave
me alone."
"The name's Spike and I'll
'ave none of that 'God' crap," he
said,flicking the cigarette to the pavement. "You're that Michaelangelo
fellow or whatever, aren't you?" Spike asked, bemused by the change
in
circumstance.
"Leonardo."
"Oh, well, whatever. I knew
it was one of the Ninja Turtle
names," Spike said, chuckling to himself.
"OK. OK. What do you want?"
Leo asked, expecting a request for
an autograph for every member of this guy's family.
"I told you," Spike said,
putting on his game face. "I want
something to drink."
He tried to scream, but the sound never escaped his throat.
Spike shoved a fist in the boy's mouth and dragged him to a black car
a
few yards away. Throwing him into the back seat, he shut the door,
narrowly missing the Leo's hand as he tried to escape. He laughed to
himself as he walked around the car.
Stepping into the car, he
spoke, "I wouldn't try anything like
that again, if I were you. Then again, if I were you, I would've 'ad
sense enough to not find myself in this situation, so I forbear. It
won't do you any good to pull at those, Mate," he said, watching Leo
in
the rearview, eyeballing the door handles. "I've disconnected them.
You
can yank on 'em to your mortal heart's content, or rather, in this
context, discontent. They won't budge."
Leo tried them anyway, panicking.
This earned him a hearty laugh
from the driver. Enraged, Leo lunged toward the front seat. Spike
back-fisted him without so much as a glance, pulling away from the
curb.
"Y-you, you," the youth
sputtered, "you broke my nose!"
"Yes, well, that's unfortunate.
I was rather hopin' to enjoy
that a lot more than I did. You mortals are always in such a rush!
No
sense of foreplay whatsoever," Spike said, throwing him a handkerchief.
"Try to keep the blood off the seat, Mate. I just had the interior
cleaned."
"'Foreplay'?" Leo asked,
his voice cracking with fear.
"Oh, for evil's sake, Lad.
Relax. I 'ave no desire to stick my
knob up your bum. It was just an expression meanin' that you want to
rush through the good part and get down to the nasty. I don't work
that
way. You might as well just sit back and enjoy the trip. It will be
your
last."
He heard a whimper from
the backseat and felt a twinge of
anticipation. He told himself to calm down and savor the delights to
come. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. Taking a drag off
of
it, he looked up at Leo in the rearview.
"Here, Boy. You need this
more than I do," he said, passing it
over the seat.
They rode in silence, Spike smiling to himself all the while. He
could taste the fear in the air. Far sweeter than the bugger's blood
would be, he wagered. He looked up at the sky. It was a gorgeous night.
It seemed a shame to waste it on this wretch.
"Are you a fast runner,
Lad?"
He nodded.
"Good. We're goin' t' play
a little game. One of my favourites."
He continued driving, heading
for the cemetery. He spotted a
tiny blonde sitting by a grave. He cursed himself silently for not
expecting her to be there and let his demonic features soften to human
form. He parked the car and turned off the ignition. Casting
a glance
at the blonde, he stepped onto the grass. He snuck up behind her and
kissed her neck. Her hand shot up and over her shoulder, grabbing him
and sending him flying forward as she bent over.
Landing on the ground in
a heap, Spike spoke, "I could've killed
you, Slayer."
"Maybe, but you didn't.
So what's with the kiss?"
"Well, Slayer--" he began,
standing up.
"I have a name," she interrupted.
"Well, Buffy," he continued,
"I just wanted to let you know
that, had I wanted to, you would've been a midnight snack."
"So why didn't you?"
"Well, I have bigger things
in store for this evening. I was
thinkin' of takin' in a movie. Any suggestions?"
She contemplated his tone.
It was too calm. She didn't like it.
She wondered what he was up to.
"Well, Titanic just came
out on video. Though, I'm guessing that
wouldn't be your thing, right?" she said, giggling silently at the
thought of Spike getting all weepy in front of the television.
"That sounds like a good
one. I always love a good comedy.
Disaster films are loads of laughs, y'know? Any other ideas?"
"You could make it a Leo
night and rent Romeo and Juliet. Though
I suppose that would probably remind you too much of your youth."
"Ha ha, Slayer. Actually
it would remind me too much of you and
that nancy-boy Angelus. Star crossed lovers and all that rubbish,"
he
watched her stiffen at the mention of his sire. "Too bad he's in Hell
now, isn't it?"
"Too bad for you. How is
Drusilla getting along these days
anyhow? She still angry at you for helping to kill him?" she asked,
knowing full well that Dru had left him and headed for Prague.
"Touché, Slayer.
I'll see you again soon. I think I'll take your
advice on the Leo thing. Try to see if I can find out what all you
schoolgirls see in the lout. Goodnight, then."
"I'm sticking around here.
I have a newborn vamp to stake. You
guys really should learn to just keep them near you. Burying them here
is just begging me to dust 'em."
"Don't look at me. I 'aven't
made one recently. It was probably
one of the dim-witted lot Angelus made. They make a lot of mistakes.
Their brains are always on feedin' and reproducin'. Much like teenagers.
Oh, here's your boy now," he said, as a hand emerged from the soil
at
Buffy's feet.
He grabbed it and yanked
the fledgling vamp from the ground,
dusting him off a bit.
"Master Spike," he said,
recognizing him from the description
his sire had given him. "I am honored to have you welcome me to the
night."
"This one's been readin'
too much Anne Rice," Spike said,
snapping the vampire's neck.
Buffy staked him for good
measure and then turned to Spike, "I
thought our truce was over? You go back to being a bad guy, I go back
to
staking you, remember? I can't stake you when you are helping me."
"My sentiments exactly.
I think you're done here, Slayer. Good
guys win, bad guys foiled again," snapping his fingers. "Curses." He
looked up at the moon, then back to Buffy, "Time for little girls to
be
in their little beds before the Bogeyman comes out."
Buffy sighed, resigned to
kill him another night. She turned and
walked from the gravesite back to the car. When he could no longer
see
her, he opened the door and let Leo out. The boy saw his opportunity
and
took off running.
Spike stepped up to an imaginary mark in the grass and spoke,
"Ready. Steady. Go," he said, taking off into the night, "and they're
off. It's Prettyboy in the lead with Fangs bringin' up the rear. What's
this? Could it be? Yes, folks, it looks like Spike is gettin' a second
wind. He's comin' up hard and fast on the young upstart." Spike tackled
Leo, finishing his commentary, "Proving, yet again, that old age and
experience beats youth and exuberance. When will they learn?"
Leo grunted underneath him,
trying to throw him off.
"What's that, Mate? You
want me to get off of you? That wouldn't
be much fun, now, would it?" he asked.
"You're fucking insane."
"No, not anymore. We broke
up. Thank you so much for bringin' it
up. What is it with everyone and Dru tonight?"
"Dru?" Leo asked, confused.
"My ex. A real loony, that
one. Mad as a hatter. Bloody hell, I
miss 'er."
"She probably left because
she found out you were a monster."
"Actually, she left because
I helped to kill a guy she was
cheatin' on me with," he paused, jerking Leo off the ground, "and kept
'em from destroyin' the world. If you think I'm a monster, you should've
seen the other guy."
"He had to be better than
you. I mean, he was more important
than you to her."
"You're really startin'
t' believe what they write about you in
the papers, aren't you? 'Hero', 'heartthrob', all that jazz? Let me
tell
you somethin' right now, you bloody twerp. You 'aven't a ghost of a
clue
what real heroes are all about. You don't know the first thing about
what makes women tick either. Dru was one of those crazies who like
to
be treated like an inferior. She wanted someone who would use 'er and
abuse 'er. That was Angelus. Me, on the other hand, I couldn't toss
'er
aside to chase after someone who hated me. I put Dru up on a bloody
pedestal, treated 'er like a goddess. She was my princess."
Leo just looked at him.
Staring, dumbly, at the beast that held
his future in gloved hands.
"What the fuck do you care
about where I'm wettin' my wick,
anyhow?" Spike asked, genuinely curious.
"I was just making conversation,"
Leo said, hoping he hadn't
angered him too much.
"You were just hopin' I
would get so wrapped up in my own
concerns that I'd let you go. Not bloody likely, Mate. I'd start prayin'
to that god of yours. It's gonna be a long night," Spike said, dragging
him back to the car.
"Home rancid home," Spike said, opening the door to an abandoned
church and throwing Leo to the floor.
"I'll give you whatever
you want. Money, women, fame, anything
you--"
"'Look, Mate,'" Spike said,
recalling Leo's words when they
first met, "'I doubt you could be of any help to me.' As for money,
I could buy and sell you three times over. As far as women are
concerned, the kind of women I like would tear your heart out and
shove it down your throat. Fame? Doesn't interest me. Infamy, now THAT
is somethin' t' shoot for."
"What do you want then?"
Leo asked, hoping for a good answer.
"We've already covered this,
Boy. You. Dead. Are you gettin' a
word picture, 'ere?"
He looked up through the
window and saw the sky growing lighter.
It was almost sunrise. Spike grabbed some rope from the altar. Holding
it up he motioned for Leo to join him. The boy hesitated and Spike
wasted
no time in convincing him.
"Come on now. We wouldn't
want to make the big, mean man angry,
would we? Come and take it like a man. The longer you keep me waitin',
the longer I keep you screamin'."
"What are you going to do
to me?" Leo asked, slowly walking in
Spike's direction.
Spike groaned in exasperation,
"I hate it when my meals try to
get all chatty with me. Makes me want to rip their throats out," he
paused, glaring at Leo, "twice."
Dragging Leo with him, he
headed to a door across the room.
Spike opened it and pushed the boy down the stairs. Leo landed on the
concrete floor of the basement with a thud. This stunned him momentarily
and Spike took the opportunity to move him over to the wall. Running
the
rope through a couple of light fixtures, he tied each end to one of
Leo's wrists. Slapping the boy to bring him back to reality, Spike
crossed the room. Another vampire appeared from the shadows. Spike
whispered orders to him and then turned to face Leo.
"This here's Stephen. He'll
be takin' care of you while I sleep.
Give him problems and I'll hear about it," he said, turning to Stephen.
"Kill 'im and I'll 'ave your blood for breakfast."
"Yes, milord. I'll do as
you've instructed. Nothing more,
nothing less."
Spike touched the vamp's
face, tracing the contour of his jaw.
He looked into his eyes and slapped him hard.
"Thank you, Sir," Stephen
said, his undead skin on fire from the
blow.
Spike looked at Leo, "Good
help is so 'ard to find these days.
If you need anything, just scream. He won't come runnin'. Night-night,
Lad," Spike said, chuckling as he walked from the room.
"What are you going to do
to me?" Leo asked, trying to see
Stephen's face in the half-light of the room.
Stephen stepped into the
light, his true nature revealed. He
licked the side of the boy's face.
"Just watch you. He gets
to have all the fun. I have to make
sure that you're ready for it."
"Ready? Ready how?"
"You'll see," he answered,
turning on a television directly
across from where Leo was tied.
He put a tape in the VCR
and pushed play. The first few strains
of "The March for the Funeral of Queen Mary" could be heard as Spike
settled in for a day of sleep.
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