smallbills

Title: "Small Bills" (Eighth in the And Life Goes On' Series)
Author: Spikelicious
Disclaimer: Characters are Joss'. Song is by The Doors.
Feedback: Feed the beast, pets!
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All week, Spike had served his 'specialty' drinks, convincing Willy to put them on special so that all the demon regulars would try them. For the vampires that came in, few and far between now that Spike worked there, Spike served a special 'blood wine' that was made of spiced wine and pigs' blood and kept at body temperature in an electric coffee urn. He never made mention of the fact that it wasn't human blood, and the vampires never seemed to catch on, ordering it by the carafe.

As the week progressed, the usual patrons still showed; not many were deterred by Spike's presence, apparently, even though he had been an outcast for some time. And new faces began to appear, here and there, filtering in and claiming that some other demon had suggested they come try one of Spike's concoctions. Amazingly, no fights had broken out, although he'd gotten a few suspicious glares. Apparently, while the alcohol was flowing freely, everyone could manage to get along. 'Funny how it's the exact opposite in human bars', Spike reflected idly one evening as he dried some glasses.

He'd also begun a new 'ad campaign', which basically consisted of flyers printed up on neon paper and distributed throughout the demon community. Spike had Willow design and print out the flyer proclaiming 'Friday Night at Willy's-- Ladies' Night! All Drinks Half-Price For Females of Any Race, Clan or Breed!' Although he'd posted most of them himself, a few regulars had grabbed some from the pile he left at the end of the bar, and Spike assumed that they distributed them wherever they went off to when they weren't kicking back at Willy's.

So, by the time Friday night rolled around, Spike was hoping he'd get a real crowd of females in the bar, hopefully big tippers. 'Come one, come all, ladies,' Spike thought as he walked the short distance to the bar. 'Baby needs a new pair of shoes. And pants, and shirts, and jewelry, and that glittery junk she smears all over her face.'

He could tell as he neared the bar that it was full, and he smiled in relief. He'd hoped his plan would work, but had been unsure of how many female demons were in the area and whether they would come to a dive like Willy's.

He was unprepared, however, for the fact that he had to literally push his way through the throng to get to the bar. Nodding to several females who were openly eyeing him, he wondered if maybe the only reason the ladies hadn't shown up earlier is because they hadn't been asked. Willy's tended to have a mostly male clientele, and maybe the males liked it that way. 'No longer an all boy's club, fellas,' he thought with a grin. What the hell, he enjoyed shaking things up.

Once behind the bar, the female patrons seemed to flock over as one mass, and Spike smiled widely at the crowd.

"Okay, pets, one at a time, what'll it be? We have a new menu, but just shout out your poison if you know what you want!"

As drink requests began coming at him faster than he could make them, which was pretty fast considering that he was a vampire and had made some of these drinks for almost a century, women began pushing up against the bar.

One female demon, whose only noticeably non-human feature was a third eye, leaned in to speak to Spike over the din.

"Hey there, sweet thing. You on the menu?"

Spike grinned and handed her a drink. "Nope, pet. Sorry. But I make a hell of a Fuzzy Navel."

The demoness sighed as if disappointed, but winked at him with the third eye and moved off to find a table.

Several more women came on to him, all getting the same reply. The women took over the tables, forcing the few men that had shown up to share. Most of them didn't seem to mind, and soon everyone had drinks. Many even had Onion Blossoms and Buffalo wings.

Spike's tip jar was about half full, and he eyed it consideringly. This week's paycheck was nearly spent already; he and Dawn had gone out and bought a DVD player, which they'd been wanting for months, and a few DVDs. They had also stocked up on groceries, and Dawn had needed some things for school. Spike had allowed himself to buy only one carton of fags, and he'd stocked his mini-fridge with blood bags.

But if he made enough tips tonight, he could gladly and without guilt send Dawn off with Anya to the mall for clothes.

Spike considered his situation. He was trying to figure out a way to put clothes on his...Nibblet's back. Clothes that wouldn't get her made fun of. He was worried about what Dawn had to eat, and that she was eating enough. He was in denial over the dance she was going to next week, and he was ready to gut the boy who was taking her, except that he would have to leave Denial Land in order to do so, so that would have to wait. All in all, his world now revolved around the younger sister of the woman he'd been in love with before she'd done the ultimate swan dive and saved the world. He lived in Dawn's house, cooked her dinners when she would eat, watched movies and did homework with her, and swore he'd die before his Lil' Bit lost another person, even if that person was only him.

He was a soddin' Nancyboy. He was a father.

That thought, although terrifying and wonderful all at the same time, also jogged his memory. He replayed the scene in his head, watching Buffy tell her friends and Watcher that Dawn was not to be harmed, or killed. His Slayer had actually had to tell her friends and Watcher not to kill her sister. The only thing that had kept him from screaming at the Scoobies that night was that she had never, not once, looked at him during her warning to them. She'd known that he would abide by her wishes, even before she'd brought him back to her house and stated those wishes plainly.

He also remembered her curious statement, "She's me...she's made of me." He flashed on the visit to Doc, when he'd yanked a hair from Dawn's head and commented about DNA...something about that moment tugged at his mind, as if wanting to be brought out and looked at, but he couldn't for his unlife figure out what it was.

A demoness brought him out of his reverie, asking for a refill on her 'Vengeance Cocktail' and licking her lips at him. As he made her drink, he noticed that two of the Flamedra Demons had gotten into a heated argument. Heated, because Flamedra demons tend to spout flames when they are incensed, and now their table was on fire. The object of their argument, a Chaos demon--'what is the bloody appeal of those fucking Chaos demons?!'--was leaning back away from the flames but not really making an attempt to get up from his seat. He was apparently amused by the two females fighting over him.

As the flames licked higher, the Flamedra females finally leapt up from their seats, but not to put the fire out. Rather, they got into a knock-down, drag-out fight, pulling onyx locks of hair and swiping at each other with wicked-looking black talons. As the two lithe but deadly beauties rolled around on the floor, the fire was spreading.

Sighing, he grabbed the water hose hooked to the ice bin and leapt up onto the bar, dousing the flames with a continuous spray of carbonated H20. For good measure, he sprayed down the two females who were still tussling on the ground. As soon as the water hit them, their skin began to steam and they stopped fighting, pulling away from each other and blinking furiously at the vampire standing on the bar.

The demoness with the third eye grinned at him from her place in the crowd and made her way over to the seldom-used jukebox, shouting "I've seen this movie!!! But baby, you are anything but 'ugly'!"

Suddenly, music filled the room and all eyes focused on the sexy, undead bartender who had commanded their attention so effectively.

Grinning, Spike glanced down at his tip jar. "I've seen this movie, too, ladies. Just last week, in fact!"

The crowd of females went wild, applauding him even though he hadn't even done anything yet except stand on the bar and be gorgeous.

"How generous are you feeling tonight, luvs?" He eyed the crowd, playfully waggling his tongue before arching his scarred brow and nodding at his half-full jar.

Hands clutching bills began dipping into the jar, coming out empty. Not wanting to disappoint his customers, he dropped the sprayer behind the bar and turned to face the crowd again. As he listened to the music that was accompanying him, he cocked his head and a grin spread over his face. Quite appropriate, really.

He began to saunter down the bar in time with the music, dipping down to drop a playful kiss on a female's cheek before moving on.

Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel
Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel
Yeah, we're goin' to the roadhouse,
gonna have a real good time

At 'good time', he did a quick hip thrust, and the women swooned. The tip jar was already full, so the more daring ladies reached up and stuffed bills into Spike's pockets and a few bills even made it into the waistband of his jeans. A grin split his face and he turned to make his way to the other end of the bar.

Yeah, in back of the roadhouse they got some bungalows
Yeah, in back of the roadhouse they got some bungalows
And that's for the people who like to go down slow

On 'slow', he rolled his pelvis forward then quickly dropped down onto his knees, mouthing the next lines and gesturing with his hands as if saying, 'come and get it'.

Let it roll baby, roll;
Let it roll baby, roll;
Yeah, let it roll, all night long!

He swung his head back and forth on 'all night long' as if he were in the throes of passion and then quickly leapt to his feet again, just barely escaping the grasping, reaching hands of the females who were straining to touch him. As it was, one demoness was successful at ripping his t-shirt. Shrugging, he ripped it completely off and handed it to her, then turned to continue his performance bare-chested. His audience was riveted.

Ashen lady, Ashen lady, give up your vows!
Give up your vows!
Save our city, save our city, right now!

This line hit a little too close to home for him, and instead of mouthing 'save our city' he howled the words, so full of irony and sexual tension that all the females watching shuddered with desire and emotion.

With the next words, Spike's cockiness returned, and he dropped his hooded gaze to his audience and nodded in time with the lyrics as he strolled down the bar, idly rubbing his bare chest.

When I woke up this morning I got myself a beer
When I woke up this morning I got myself a beer
The future is uncertain and the end is always near

Nodding to the last line with a knowing--if somewhat bitter--smirk, he swayed with the music until it ended and then simply dropped down to the floor behind the bar.

Silence fell upon the bar for a few seconds before pure pandemonium erupted. Women were screaming for more, applauding his performance, shoving money and phone numbers at him by the fistful. With a proud smile, he merely stood back and allowed the women to settle down.

"So, pets, is Ladies' Night at Willy's worth a weekly go?"

Through the affirmative replies and raucous catcalls, someone called out, "Do you work every Friday night?"

He grinned. "Yup. Every Friday night, I'm your man."

The audience swooned at that, and he began taking drink orders. 'Looks like Nibblet is going shopping.'

* * * * *

The next morning, as Dawn and Spike settled into their Saturday morning routine of cartoons and breakfast cereal eaten out of the box, Spike could hardly contain his grin.

Finally, Dawn noticed and around a mouthful of Count Chocula demanded, "Okay, so give. What are you all 'Sylvester ate Tweety' about?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out large wad of cash, tossing it into her lap.

Dawn goggled. "Uh, okay. Hello, pretty green bills. So, what's with the fundage and why is it in my lap?"

Spike leaned back and put his hands behind his head. "Well, 'Bit. You are going shopping with all those pretty green little bills. Anya is coming by for you this afternoon and taking you to the mall. I want you to restock you wardrobe with clothes that actually fit."

As Dawn's eyes filled, she quickly wiped the moisture away and asked somewhat suspiciously, "So what did you do to get this? Was it legal?"

"Sure. Remember I had Willow make up those flyers? We had our first 'Ladies' Night' last night."

Dawn picked up a fistful of bills. "So, a success, I take it?"

He nodded, unable to keep the proud smile from spreading across his face. "Yeah, you could say that."

Dawn shrugged, apparently satisified, and Spike didn't elaborate. It's not like he was ashamed of dancing on a bar to make money, he hadn't even taken any clothes off. Well, not until they were ripped away, but that was besides the point. He just didn't feel the need to share.

After a moment, though, Dawn turned to him. She'd been counting the bills.

"Spike. There's like six hundred bucks here."

"Hunh. Good job me, then." He casually shoved some cereal into his mouth.

"Spi-ike, why is it all in small bills?"

He turned to her with a 'deer caught in headlights' expression, and finally just pointed to his full mouth and shook his head.

Dawn squinted at her vampire. "I'm just not gonna ask. Give me the cereal, Chippendale Boy."

With a small grin, she settled back against the couch with the box as Spike choked on his Count Chocula.