Take this Job and Shove It
by Tropicwhale
disclaimer: Not mine
Warnings: Spike's foul mouth, language.
Author Notes: Power was out but I have a generator! woot, means I can catch up on my writing. Which is great! I didn't mean to abandon this story or my Bones story. It just sort of happened. Which is why I am going to finish it. No more excuses. Pressing through. (this author note is SO OLD!)
Chapter One of Book 6 of the Grimmoire series:
Temper, Temper
Spike crosses the entire length of the bedroom. For the thousandth time. "Cut it out!" I throw a pillow at his head. It hits him, he swings around and growls at me. "I'm trying to get some sleep." Spike picks up the pillow and throws it back at me.
"Aren't you suppose to be playing the concerned boyfriend and ask me what's wrong?"
"I will, when you calm down and I get a few hours of sleep to deal with the hot mess that is you right now. Come to bed."
"No."
"Fine! I'm done with your crappy attitude." I pick up my pillow and the spare sheet.
"W'ere oo goin'?"
"I'm going to sleep on the couch, Spike." I make it to the door and jerk it open.
"Wh-why?"
"Seriously?"
"Yeah." I turn around. Spike's shifting from foot to foot, looking concerned. Great, I am working on zero hours sleep and coming down from an adrenaline high of a long ass night and my boyfriend is doing his impression of a bi-polar bear.
"I'm tired. You're obviously not and you're growling at me."
"You hit me in the head."
"With a pillow, Spike."
"Still hurt."
"Did it?" He shifts on his feet again and shoves his hands into his pockets.
"No."
"Look, I love you but right now...I'm really tired."
"I'll go out, you stay here. You're not gettin' any younger and I don't want you developing back problems because of some trashy hotel couch."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'll try to keep it down too."
"Really?" I am already mostly in the bed already.
"Yeah."
"When I get eight solid I'll ask you what's wrong. Promise."
"No promises, you twit."
"Not twit...nit."
"Alright, dear."
"bah."
*(*S/X*)*
I wake up and it's dark...like night time dark. I stretch and pad out to the living room of the suite. The balcony doors are wide open on the city of Rome, Italy. Spike is on the balcony, leaning on the rail, smoking. Things were bad then. He had pretty much quit. He's barefoot and shirtless, his hair springing up in those crazy ass curls of his. "What's up?"
"Fucking effing Rome." He snarls. I hold out my hand and wave it from side to side.
"Fucking? Effing? Isn't 'Effing' Brit for 'fucking'? So really you just said 'fucking, fucking Rome'."
"What are you? An English teacher?"
"No, but I was almost eaten by one." That makes him chuckle. I wrap my arms around his waist from behind. "You really hate this city, huh?"
"Yep." he takes another drag on the cigarette.
"More or less that Romania?"
"...Hmm, bout equal, I suppose."
"Why?"
"There was a problem in the 1950's about evading taxes, something about fifty years before that a whinging demon gave me and a friend a bit of a hard time over territory."
"Hard time...you mean you and Angelus were being a collective pain to a local and he kicked you out of the city." Spike turns his head and looks at me.
"Memories." We say at exactly the same time.
"Fucking Aneirin. Fucking Rome."
"You are belligerent tonight."
"Yeah well. Fucking hate Rome."
"Is there anywhere you don't hate?"
"Paris." He turned his head to the side and grinned at me through the cigarette smoke. "And before you ask that next question…I don't hate you, or Patricia, or Red, or Dawn, Alex, Kenya, Beledia, Mary…"
"Somehow I think all those things relate to each other."
"Probably."
"So what next?"
"Well, Dracula had to have sent us here for a reason. Guess we stick around a day or two to figure it out."
"Ok, Spike, can we talk about the weird shit that went down on the plane here?"
"It's called sex, Xander."
"I know, before the sex."
"It's called boarding." Spike says with a smirk.
"Are you seriously going to play this game?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"That a yes then. Dammit." I look out over the city. "I'm wondering when I became such a night owl."
"You really want an answer to that?"
"Spike."
"Xander." He mocked back.
"I love you." He stilled, frozen to the point where it was like he wasn't even there. "You know that, right? Romania went really weird; for us both, I think, and I just wanted you to know that I love you regardless of whatever it was that went down there."
"Whatever, Xander." Spike flicked his cigarette over the railing and walked back into the room.
"Spike."
"No, I don't want to talk about it." I booked it back into the room, he was putting on his shoes and his coat was already on. "And if you keep tryin', I'll keep walkin'." His hand was on the doorknob to leave the room. He was angry, glaring at me.
"Where does that leave me, Spike? Maybe I want to talk about it."
"Go tell it to your shrink." And he left. I sat down on the couch. I am not sure where I went wrong.
Author After Note: Annnnd, we're back. I really missed writing. It's cheaper to do than theatre. PS: This story is about a gay relationship, there will be sex at some point once Spike gets his head out of his ass. I also need to remember what they hell happened the bloody book. DON'T know. At all. I know why Dracula sent them to Rome though, so that's at least a start. This is going to diverge from comic canon. A lot. (Twilight isn't Angel...and Giles lives...because its Giles! He is not allowed to die. He also has a hot young slayer girlfriend in my world. Because Faith and Giles are equal hotness and really...Wow. Maybe that'll be my next series? Faith/Giles? It would be the first straight, heteronormal couple I've ever shipped like ever...hmm). I gotta finish Grimmoire first.
Love, Dorkside, you remember;
Tropic
