Take this Job and Shove It
by Tropicwhale
disclaimer: Not mine
Warning: Violence. Spike's bad language
Author Notes: And this is the last chapter in the Grimmiore that I wrote ages ago. Now all updates will be live until my life takes a turn and everything online screeches to a halt...you know, like it does.
Chapter Two
Drink and Brawl
My head hurts. After all that's happened in the last forty-eight hours ending with storming out on my lover in an unwelcoming city that's all I can think to say. My head hurts. I'm angry and confused and pissed off and I want to rip them all apart and cry into the night and I want Drusilla. I want simpler times and dreams of blood and sex and horror. I want Dracula to be a myth and Anierin to not exist and I want Alexander and my mother and…and Patricia and little Estella safe in my arms. I want Joyce Summers giving me hot cocoa with those little marshmallows in it. I want someone to tell me what to do and think and I'm scared. I don't want to be a Master vampire anymore. I don't want the bloodline whispering in my dreams. I don't want Xander to look at anyone else, just me. I know he wants only me. He loves me and fucking Dracula was just payment, nothing more than a manipulation..on Dracula's part.
And it was enjoyable...fine! Xander was just being practical. I'm being silly. It was good sex and nothing more. I am so tired and my head hurts.
"Senor?" A woman's voice floats to my ears. I look up. She's a dark beauty with soft brown curls and sun-kissed skin.
"Can I help you?"
"Oh, English." She sounds almost disappointed.
"Sorry to disappoint." I have no energy tonight to fake being charming and this woman smells off.
"Oh, No disappoint." She waves the word off as only the Italians can. "You looking for something, tonight?" Something about her accent makes me smile.
"No, not tonight…maybe a bar? Somewhere quiet. I just got in this morning and I need a drink."
"Ah, follow! Good bar, good drink, good company." She smiles.
"Sounds right to me." Who am I to deny a beautiful woman? I follow her down the twisting alleys of Rome, newspaper wrapping around my feet. Who reads the newspaper any more? Don't Italians have phones like everybody else? I snatch up a paper that has tangled about my ankles and trash it into the nearest bin. I follow my guide into a little hole in the wall that has the five or six regulars glancing up in my direction. The woman waves at them and slides behind the bar. I belly up to the pitted wood as she sets down a shot glass. "Grazie" She pours me a shot of Grappa as I sit.
"Careful, English, it's strong" I grin.
"I can handle anything you put in front of me, Signora"
"Signorita" She leans her arms and chest on the bar, smelling of a whiff of other. I raise my eyebrows.
"Signorita" I acknowledge. She licks her lips and looks down at the Grappa shot then back at me. A dare.
"It's on the house."
"Good, because I left my wallet at the hotel." She smiles. "So, you're a bartender…."
"Amongst other things." There is the shift of a chair on the tile floor and then steps.
"Altro Negroni, Beatrice." The man stands next to me, smelling of gin and body odor. I look up and see beard and a stained shirt. Dark eyes peer out of weather blackened skin and wrinkles. Beatrice nods and starts making the man his drink. He slaps some euro down on the counter while sizing me up. I nod at him and sip my Grappa. A meaty hand falls on my shoulder. I take another sip and look at it, following the line of muscled arm to his face.
"Posso aiutarti, amico?"
"Yeah, get out." The man sounded Italian by way of Brooklyn. "We don't like your kind here."
"Would that I could, mate. But the lady bought me a drink." The muscle sneered as Beatrice placed a drink in a highball glass in front of him and took his money. He grabbed my shot glass and downed it. He then got into my face, placing one hand on the back of my chair and another on the bar.
"You're finished." I size him up, then glance at the woman. Her face was impassive but watchful. I tilt my head back to get better eye contact with the lout.
"Look. Getting into my face is a mistake. I'm here on business and the lady offered me a drink. You should go rejoin your friends before you end up in the hospital." He lorded over me; like his size could intimidate more than his stench. "I'm tellin' you. Back off." The hand on my chair tips it back suddenly and I almost go flying. I twist out and away from the chair holding back a growl as I land on my feet facing off from the goon. "You can still walk away." Fighting humans is no longer in my nature...mostly. The guy steps in and throws a punch at my face. I dodge it and send him flying past me. His friends in the corner, two of them, stand up. The three other patrons and Beatrice watch, silent. "Listen, I've had a tough coupla days. You really don't want to fight me." I look over at Beatrice. "How mad would you be at me if I beat them up?"
"If you beat them up?" Beatrice shrugs. "I'll buy you a drink. Perhaps you should walk away, hm? Cheap Grappa is no reason to end up in the hospital." The first guy lunges at me. I dodge, grab his arm in a lock and send him flying toward his friends. They catch him and all three come for me. I dodge one, take a hit to the face by another, and kick the legs out from under the third. I swing up and over the bowed back of the second guy, kick the downed man to keep him down, and spin the two standing guys together. I land in a semi-crouch and wish that they were demons. After all, I could really beat up a bunch of demons. The first guy re-attacks and I punch him in the diaphragm and in the face downing him for good. The last guy standing looks at his fallen comrades and does the sensible thing, runs out of the bar. I look down at the pair, semi-conscience and moaning. I pick them up by their arms and throw them out of the bar. I come back, righting the chairs the brawl knocked over and sit back at my chair. My shot glass is already refilled. "You could have killed them." I smile then press my lips together.
"Yeah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, my lover would have killed me if I had gotten over-excited in a bar brawl our first night in Rome." I knock back the drink. She pours me another.
"To make up for the one Georgio drank, il maiale."
"Good customer?" I ask.
"The best." She pick up his drink and takes a sip. "He thinks he owns my bar. I've had to have him arrested a few times." She waves this fact off. "He thinks this means I like him." She shrugs. "He tips well."
"I've known a few guys like that. I usually just kick them in the balls."
"A woman, especially one who owns a business, does not have that option."
"Hire a bouncer?"
"With all of my spare money?" She indicates the empty bar. I smirk and sip my Grappa. She leans forward onto the bar again. I can't help but look at her breasts. They are beautiful breasts. Full, heaving with her breath with that perky line between them that I love running my thumb up and down. Hey, I'm in a relationship not dead...well, I guess I am dead but I am still allowed to look at breasts when they are present six inches from my arm resting on the bar. They really are beautiful breasts. "You said you were here on business?"
"Looking for a rare book that was stolen." My eyes snap back up to hers. She grins. She knows exactly what I was looking at. Cheeky lady.
"And you brought your lover with you?"
"Business partner." I look up into her eyes and shrug. "We work well together."
"Then why is she not with you now?" I look down and scratch the back of my head, guilty. "I...got mad and stormed out. We...well, there was a lead that it was in Romania and that was a lie and people there said it was here and I don't trust the source but…"
"She does?" I nod. "You love her very much?"
"All my heart." My lips quirk "Most days."
"It is difficult to work with one's lover."
"Yeah, I guess." Her hand comes down on my shoulder. That smell of something about her gets a little stronger. I look up at her and she kisses me on my forehead.
"Paths are not always straight and light fades every evening." She whispers, hand stroking my cheek. "But love is a light in the dark by which we find our way."
"AHHHHH, Signor Spike! We heard you were coming." Beatrice straightened and looks over my shoulder. She hides her drink under the bar. I turn and there are four people standing in the doorway...well, I use the term 'people' loosely. One was the brute that had run out on his buddies, two were Fyarl demons, and the last was a small green and orange fellow with chin horns. He was the one who spoke. "Signorita Beatrice a Bellini, grazie"
"Can I help you?" I ask. All I wanted was a quiet moment to myself to get myself sorted out over Romania. Apparently, that wasn't in the cards tonight. Damn.
"Si, si." The small demon oozed as he say next to me, both literally and figuratively. Made my nose scrunch up in disgust. "You can be very much help. The Immortal, he has heard you were once again in Roma. Some vampires never learn, si?" The Immortal. Of course. Fuck.
"Some do. Some die."
"Si. It was my understanding that you were made aware that you are not welcome in his city."
"I was." I sip my Grappa.
"Then, scusi, why are you back?"
"Not my choice, is it? Got sent here. I'm looking for something."
"Ah, the Grimmoire, si" I finish my Grappa, nod to Beatrice and stand only to be blocked by the two Fyarls.
"Killlll" growls one.
"Maaaaaiiiiimmmm" snarls the other. I stare them down. I look down at their handler. He smiles like an oil slick.
"Perhaps, The Immortal, he overlook this mistake, hmm?"
"How much?"
"Hmm?" The demon sips his Bellini "Please, sit. Sit." He wave Beatrice to refill my shot glass. I glance at the Fyarls and sit.
"How much to get you to bugger off and let me look for the book?"
"Ah, little. Little." He smiles again. "Beatrice, you make good Bellinis." He oozes at her. She scoffs and goes to check on her three other customers. "Fiery, si? Beautiful woman, for a human." He giggles. "You should read the newspaper." With that he leaves money on the counter and walks out with his goons. I down the shot. Beatrice comes back.
"You leave now." She says, her accent thicker. I look at her. She is glaring. "I don't want trouble with the Immortal, huh? Go." I stand
"Fine. I don't blame you. Guy's a pillock. One question. Got yesterday's newspaper?" She straightens in shock. She goes behind the bar and drops the whole thing onto the counter. She then gestures for me to leave. I pick up the paper, nod and go.
(((S/X)))))
I get back to the hotel and find that Xander is surfing on his phone. "You less of a dick now?" He says without looking up. For whatever reason, his tone pisses me off. I slap the newspaper onto his lap flipped to the article. He looks down at it "Who reads the newspaper any more? Don't Italians have phones like everybody else?" I smirk briefly and turn my head to stare at the wall. "Uh, Spike? Not that I don't appreciate you doing your dog impression of fetching the evening newspaper but this is in Italian. The only words I know in Italian are curse words." I blink. Oops. I sit on the couch and push him over, grabbing his phone "Hey!" I close his freaking Facebook app and pull up the news article's online English translation.
"Here". I hand it back to him and wait patiently as he reads it. I gather up the newspaper that has cascaded everywhere. "We should probably look into it."
"Yeah, I agree. I'll contact the local Slayer-"
"Only one?"
"Yup, she's Buffy...and Buffy doesn't work in squads." I look at him...oh.
Author After Notes: Less than twenty-four hours in a new city and Spike's already getting into fights. Is anyone surprise?
Italian Translation
Altro Negroni, Beatrice.-Another Negroni, Beatrice
Posso aiutarti, amico-Can I help you, friend?
Il maiale-The pig
Love from the Dorkside;
Tropic