A/N:this "episode" would probably acure somewhere in the sixth sesson,probably after Ômrs. and mr. demon hunter'....so...uh...yeah, bye!
Scene One:
Spike drained the last of the burgandy liquid, then clutched the mug roughly in one hand and shook it above his gapeing mouth in hopes of scavenging the last drops. The blood stained his normally pale lips scarlet.
He was out of blood, then. Curseing, spike kicked the mug against the far wall of his crypt. A wintry smile brushed his lips as he watched it shatter into a million abstract fragments and cascade to the floor. Behind him something squeaked.
Spike was so startled he jumped, started, went rigid and spun around to face the noise. There was nothing. He squinted against the gloom. "Who goes there?"he barked. It was a stupid thing to say, and he knew it. He was surprised at the venom saturateing his voice, as deap a component of the words as his accent. Slowly, he turned a circle. He moved languidly, liquidly, like a cat. But inside he was tensed. A mouse scurried across the dank floor.
Spike stared.
He through back his head and through out his arms as though struggling to keep his balance. "BLOODY HELL!" he hollared, the slumped against the wall, shaking his head. It had only been a MOUSE. Sullenly, he flicked a crumb in the direction of the small beige rodent. It caught it between it's paws and sniffed suspicously, then begane to nibble it. Spike's smile was now bordering on sarcastic. "that's life," he murmured, cocking his head to study the mouse. "you finally get fresh blood and then it's gone, and you're looking...at fragments of a cup and jumping at mice. Peace and solace never last. Enough to turn evan a mortal bad." The mouse scampered forward, eager to see if spike held more crumbs. His whiskers quivered and spike ran a long fingure down the small creatures spine. When he spoke, his voice was soft but edged in something cold and hard. "i didn't have to work at that, did I? I've always been bad." Disapointed, the mouse scampered off.
Spike propped himself on one elbow and yelled in his wake:"YOU KNOW IF I DIDN'T HAVE THIS BLOODY CHIP IN MY HEAD I WOULD HAVE HAD A TASTEY SNACK OF YOU!" A snicker made Spike jump for the second time that day.
"wow, Spike, talking to mice now,huh?" Dawn stood silhouetted in the doorway, a look of sheer superiority and amusement painted on her pale, pretty features. Her dark hair hung well past her shoulders, looking perfect and feathery as though she had hovered outside the door brushing it before entering. Spike was instantly suspicous. "Nothing a little Ôdawny' time can't fix." he said sarcasticly, riseing to his feat. Dawn descended into the heart of the crypt. "Buffy sent me." she said.
"She did??" For a moment Spike's features lightened drasticly, but then he was off cursing again. "couldn't evan bother to come in person, the---" Dawn held up her hands like a crossing guard. "Woah," she said,"easy does it. You're not going to like this. I don't think buffy wanted to be around when you heard, since you can hurt and all...." Spike glanced up at the ceiling.
Dawn looked uneasy. "I only meant--" Spike looked down, knuckling his nose and shifting his feat. The shadow made his hollow, defined cheek bones stand out more than normal. "oh hell." he muttered, "just get on with it then." Dawn drew a deap, dragging breath and rushed on before she lost her nerve:"The slaughterhouse closed." For a moment Spike stared uncomprehensively at the girl. "not just the one in town. All of ÔPete's Cows have been shut down virtually over night. Everyone in the sunnydale, calafornia, probably the countrey....you're out of blood, Spike." Dawning comprehension was drawn across all of Spike's features. "bloody hell".
Scene One:
Spike drained the last of the burgandy liquid, then clutched the mug roughly in one hand and shook it above his gapeing mouth in hopes of scavenging the last drops. The blood stained his normally pale lips scarlet.
He was out of blood, then. Curseing, spike kicked the mug against the far wall of his crypt. A wintry smile brushed his lips as he watched it shatter into a million abstract fragments and cascade to the floor. Behind him something squeaked.
Spike was so startled he jumped, started, went rigid and spun around to face the noise. There was nothing. He squinted against the gloom. "Who goes there?"he barked. It was a stupid thing to say, and he knew it. He was surprised at the venom saturateing his voice, as deap a component of the words as his accent. Slowly, he turned a circle. He moved languidly, liquidly, like a cat. But inside he was tensed. A mouse scurried across the dank floor.
Spike stared.
He through back his head and through out his arms as though struggling to keep his balance. "BLOODY HELL!" he hollared, the slumped against the wall, shaking his head. It had only been a MOUSE. Sullenly, he flicked a crumb in the direction of the small beige rodent. It caught it between it's paws and sniffed suspicously, then begane to nibble it. Spike's smile was now bordering on sarcastic. "that's life," he murmured, cocking his head to study the mouse. "you finally get fresh blood and then it's gone, and you're looking...at fragments of a cup and jumping at mice. Peace and solace never last. Enough to turn evan a mortal bad." The mouse scampered forward, eager to see if spike held more crumbs. His whiskers quivered and spike ran a long fingure down the small creatures spine. When he spoke, his voice was soft but edged in something cold and hard. "i didn't have to work at that, did I? I've always been bad." Disapointed, the mouse scampered off.
Spike propped himself on one elbow and yelled in his wake:"YOU KNOW IF I DIDN'T HAVE THIS BLOODY CHIP IN MY HEAD I WOULD HAVE HAD A TASTEY SNACK OF YOU!" A snicker made Spike jump for the second time that day.
"wow, Spike, talking to mice now,huh?" Dawn stood silhouetted in the doorway, a look of sheer superiority and amusement painted on her pale, pretty features. Her dark hair hung well past her shoulders, looking perfect and feathery as though she had hovered outside the door brushing it before entering. Spike was instantly suspicous. "Nothing a little Ôdawny' time can't fix." he said sarcasticly, riseing to his feat. Dawn descended into the heart of the crypt. "Buffy sent me." she said.
"She did??" For a moment Spike's features lightened drasticly, but then he was off cursing again. "couldn't evan bother to come in person, the---" Dawn held up her hands like a crossing guard. "Woah," she said,"easy does it. You're not going to like this. I don't think buffy wanted to be around when you heard, since you can hurt and all...." Spike glanced up at the ceiling.
Dawn looked uneasy. "I only meant--" Spike looked down, knuckling his nose and shifting his feat. The shadow made his hollow, defined cheek bones stand out more than normal. "oh hell." he muttered, "just get on with it then." Dawn drew a deap, dragging breath and rushed on before she lost her nerve:"The slaughterhouse closed." For a moment Spike stared uncomprehensively at the girl. "not just the one in town. All of ÔPete's Cows have been shut down virtually over night. Everyone in the sunnydale, calafornia, probably the countrey....you're out of blood, Spike." Dawning comprehension was drawn across all of Spike's features. "bloody hell".