Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: R for language, violence, and murder
Summary: Spike's loving his new abode, until he realizes who his neighbors are . . .
Warnings: Het, AU, Crossover
Word Count: 1,239
Challenge: Cathie's Ficcers Unite Charmed challenge for 6-17-10 to have a Vampire move in next door and explore which of the sisters he/she will fall for
Timeline: Sequel to the author's "A Halliwell's Bad Date"
Disclaimer: Prue, Piper, and Phoebe Halliwell, P3, the Power of Three, and Charmed are & TM Spelling Entertainment and any other respective owners, none of which are the author, and are used without permission. Spike is & TM Joss Whedon and any other respective owners, none of which are the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Spike gave a contented sigh as he rocked on his own front porch with his hands behind his head. He was full and had leftovers chained in his basement. He was miles away from Angel, Buffy, and all the rest, and none of them had the faintest inkling of where he had gone. His pockets were full of cash, and this city promised to provide endless opportunities for both food and fun.
The blonde Vampire smiled. There were plenty of Demons in San Francisco but few Vampires and few evil beings who could ever begin to match him for power or wits. He'd even found a bar where he'd sang karaoke earlier, and there had been no green Demon around to dare to try to read his black soul. He'd done a cool rendition of Rebel Yell by that young punk who'd taken his look from him.
Spike continued to feel assured even as the memory of the time he'd almost gotten to sink his fangs into a young Billy Idol played through his head. The Slayer of the Eighties had barely managed to save the kid, but she had beaten him - that time. Now, in this new city, Spike would finally get the fresh start he'd been yearning. There were no Slayers here, and he still had plenty of ways to keep tabs on the modern Slayer who he'd had such a rough time shaking out of his foolish system.
But he had beat the spell she'd put him under with the help of one of her little redheaded friend's magic books. He'd beat it, broken the spell, broken her heart, and nearly broken her body before the other Slayer and Angel had sent him packing.
Spike glowered at the thought of Angel. Let him continue to be the pansy goody-two-shoes ass the bloody curse had turned him into over the last century! He'd no more be going his bloody way than he would continue to be Buffy's puppet! No, he'd broken free of all of them - as his reservoir of those who'd not liked his singing earlier and his dinner of a Preacher screaming about the end of time from a street corner proved -, and he would stay his own free Vamp!
Spike's black lips curled in amusement as he thought back to the Preacher. He'd been waiting in a busy intersection for the bloody light to turn green when the Bible thumper had started hollering just outside his window. Spike had rolled down his spray painted window and called to him. "Hey, Pops," he'd called, pulling a crumpled dollar out of his jeans' pocket.
The Preacher had nearly tripped over his own feet in his rush to reach that single dollar bill. "You know you're right," Spike had remarked, leaning across his passenger seat to wave the bill out the window.
"Of course I'm right! The Bible warns us about all these disasters that are happening right now! Tell me, son," the Preacher had asked, leaning into the car with Spike and closing his hand around the dollar, "is your soul saved? Do you know the Lord?"
Spike had grinned, causing the Preacher to tremble in his expensive leather shoes. "Why don't you tell me?" he had snarled, and his handsome face had transformed into the ugly and contracted face of his true self. The Preacher hadn't even had a chance to scream as Spike had snatched him into his car by his neck, grasping him so hard that it had made a swift and clean snap. He had slammed down on his adrenaline pedal, his tires screeching as he'd ran over the Bible the Preacher had dropped in his terrified shock.
Spike licked his lips at the memory of how sweet that particular blood had tasted. He looked up as a car pulled to a stop in front of the old house directly across the street. He'd already learned that three pretty sisters lived there, and Spike planned on having his way with every one of them before feasting on the banquet they would provide.
The first woman to climb out of the sleek car was really only a girl. Spike judged her to be barely a few years out of her teens, if that much, and from the way she spilled out of the scraps of fabric she called clothing, he guessed that her experience and mental age was even less. She would be easy pickings indeed.
The second woman appeared to be a few years older, dressed much more maturely, and seemed vaguely familiar. Spike frowned. There was something about these sisters that was triggering his alarms. He also didn't like the pure white aura that pulsated around the second sister. He stopped rocking, planted his booted feet on the floor, and gave the sisters his full attention.
He snarled at the sight of the oldest sister - and why the second had seemed familiar and he was in trouble! "Bloody Hell!" he snapped as the night he'd spent dancing and making out with the woman he'd known then only as Prue barraged his mind like a tidal wave.
"Fuck!" he hissed as Prue looked his way. The moonless night shielded him from her vision as he skittered back into his house as though he'd just been burned with holy water. "BLOODY FUCK IT ALL!" Spike exploded after slamming the door behind him. He'd just moved here, but already he had to move the Hell out and fast, before the Witch next door caught wind of him!
Ah, but she was beautiful, he thought as he picked up his black curtain and gazed back out at the woman whose passion had equaled his own throughout that one night they'd spent together. He watched as she ascended the steps to her home last. He knew why she sent her sisters ahead of her and watched as her attentive, wary gaze skitted around her surroundings. She knew what the night held and was determined to protect her family.
There was no doubt in Spike's mind that she could do just that for he could still feel the pounding she'd given him two nights ago. He should have left then, he thought, instead of romancing the realtor who'd been selling this place into buying it for him with her own money and then having a celebratory dinner on her blood. He never should have settled where he knew such a powerful Witch lived! Hadn't the little bitches caused enough trouble for him in the past?
Again he shivered with a smile as he remembered the night he'd shared with the particular Witch in question. Prue was as beautiful as the night - and just as deadly. Spike grinned. That was exactly how he liked his women! Maybe he would stick around after all - even despite the fact that his brain screamed at him to get the Hell away from this latest powerful Glinda. He'd have to be a fool to stay, but he'd been love's fool and its bitch for years over a much lesser bit. Another few days wouldn't dust him, he decided as he watched the sisters go into the Manor and dropped his cobweb-patterned curtain. He sighed as old, familiar emotions warred within him. At least he damn sure hoped not, because he knew it was gonna be a while yet before he could pull himself away from the magical Prue.
The End
Author's Note: If you enjoyed this story, or any of my other writings, I hope you'll consider joining my friends and I at a brand new fan fic/art site called Ficcers Unite. At Ficcers Unite, we welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all; hope to begin a Marvel/Disney RPG soon; and plan on issuing challenges every day of the week! We currently only have one day when a new challenge is not posted and hope to fill that position soon. Charmed challenges are posted on Thursdays and last the week (as do all the other challenges too). Come on over and check us out at today!