TITLE: Dumb Dog.
AUTHOR: Collie.
FEEDBACK: Sure. Send me some love.
DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Joss. Bow down.
SUMMARY: Spike meets a new .. friend.
SPOILERS: Refrences to Season 5.
DISTRIBUTION: Through My Eyes. Anyone else, just let me know.
RATING: PG.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Bwahahaha. Don't hurt me, please. Song 'Dumb Dog' taken from the musical, 'Annie'.
Spike wandered the dark streets of Sunnydale, having nothing better to do. There were no demons that needed a good thrashing, no minions that needed to be put in their place, and the Slayer and her Scooby Gang were nowhere to be found, so he scratched harassment off his list. He simply wandered aimlessly, smoking too much, muttering to himself.
"Damn Slayer. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I that hard-up for affection? The bloody Slayer. I'm jonesin' for the Slayer." he snorted in disgust, throwing his near-extinguished cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with the toe of his boot.
"I feel like my great poof of a sire.."
Suddenly he paused. Slowly raising his head, he sniffed the air. A slight smile spread across his lips.
"Here, now.. what have we got behind door number one?"
He turned down a darkened alley, an excited heartbeat calling out to him. Casting his eyes about in the gloom, he chuckled to himself.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are.. I know there's someone down there. Come on, no need for worries. It's just little old Spike--"
He stopped shortly, drawing back, a grimace befalling his lips.
Bounding out from behind a dumpster was a wretched-looking stray dog. For it's obvious malnutrition and ragged-looking appearence, the animal seemed in disgustingly good spirits, wagging it's tail about, bounding all around Spike like a kid on Christmas morning. Spike groaned and shoved at it with his booted foot.
"Oh, bugger. Get lost, you. I don't have time for this crap. I ain't Dru, yanno."
The dog stopped it's infernal bounding and sat back on it's haunches, regarding Spike with a tilt of it's head as the vampire huffed and turned on his heel, stalking out of the alley. Not content with being forgotten, the dog let out a yelp and followed suit. Spike cursed as the dog ran out in front of him, causing him to stumble.
"Dumb dog, why are you followin' me?" he growled.
The dog offered nothing in response, merely whined, scratching at the leg of Spike's jeans with a dirty paw. Spike swated a hand at the dog, sending him scurrying back, away from the irate vampire.
"I ain't got a crumb, dog. How about lettin' me be?"
Spike sped up his gate, hoping to lose the dog. He resumed his muttering with full force, all set for a tirade on Dru and her love for dumb animals when he heard a short bark followed by a whine as the dog ran up behind him, speeding straight between his legs.
"Oh, sod it all!" he yelled, "I ain't gonna feed you! Ain't got a scrap for you! Need you? Don't give a rap for you!"
With that, he reached down and grabbed the dog, tossing it down the next alley, smiling as he heard it's frightened yelp and the crash of various trashcans and piles of rubbish. He straightened up and smiled, wiping his hands together. Suddenly he straightened, looking around in paranoia.
"Cor, I hope no one saw that. I'd be laughed straight into the dawn."
He grimaced, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his duster and turned, heading down the street towards the cemetary, and his nice crypt, which was blessedly dog-proof. About halfway down the street, he heard the scampering of tiny paws on the sidewalk behind him. He stopped, his mouth dropping slightly.
"You have got to be kidding me."
He slowly turned, looking as if his worst nightmare were flying up the street after him. As soon as he turned, a small blur of flying dog-flesh leaped up, tackling Spike to the ground with amazing strength for such a little thing. Spike just lay there in a daze for a few moments, as the little pest licked his face, tail wagging happily. Spike was in shock. 'There must be something seriously wrong with me', he thought. He let out a growl that sent the dog back, it's ears flattening against it's head, showing it's teeth in a matching growl. Spike's eyes flashed yellow and he lowered his head, snarling into the dog's face.
"Dumb Dog! Dumber than they come, dog! You're the most presumin' dog that a human--"
His words stopped. He stood up. He glanced at the dog, then up to the sky. His face took on a thoughtful gaze.
"'You're the most presumin' dog that a human could know.' Well, no. That's just not gonna work, is it now? Seein' as I ain't no bleedin' human. Well, sod. I guess that's that, then, ain't it?"
He smirked and slapped his hand against a jean-clad thigh, whistling softly.
"C'mon, boy. If you're really that desperate for company, I suppose I could oblige you. I ain't exactly a social butterfly these days, myself. I could use a mate to watch the telly with."
The dog barked his approval, bounding along after Spike as they both dissapeared into the darkness that shrouded the Sunnydale Cem--
"Bloody hell! Quit humpin' my soddin' leg, you mutt! Damnit! Look what you did! You pissed on my favorite boots! You little piece of sh--"
And then all was quiet. Well, except for the sound of yelping dog flying through the air, and the hard, wet, smack of puppy-meets-tombstone. I guess Spike is all bad.
Footsteps sound in the stillness and Spike comes running back, skidding to a halt, a cocky grin plastered to his face.
"Yeah, and don't you forget it, mate."