Territory
The next day, Spike and Dawn explained everything. Who the Initiative was, how they know each other, what they did to Spike. Everything. The group was obviously floored.
"And you think they did this?" Roman asked, still in awe of the whole thing. He asked about 95 questions about the chip.
Spike shrugged. "I'd be willing to make a wager. In the meantime, I think we should lay off feeding as long as we can."
"And keep a low profile," Dawn added.
"No. Profiles are to be kept high," Spike corrected her, the old evil mischief showing in his voice. "If those fuckers are in the city, I want to deal with them face to face."
That night, the group held an informal memorial service of sorts for Jack at the Deep End. "His apartment always smelled like mustard," Davis remembered fondly.
Nell then proceeded to give her eulogy, which was actually all the lyrics to The Joshua Tree. Halfway into "Bullet the Blue Sky," Spike noticed a group of young men walk awkwardly into the bar and take a seat at a table across from them. They had the appearance of a group of people who were trying desperately to fit in and knew they weren't. Their eyes darted about the room nervously, and they talked to each other without making eye contact, a sure sign that rather obvious people were trying to be discreet.
So Spike just stared at them. Not in a curious way, but in a very frightening, deliberate way. The kind of staring that gets you noticed. And they did. They tried to keep up their casual charade for a bit but when Spike wouldn't relent, they began to get nervous. Their hands when up now when they spoke to each other, and they gestured to him clumsily with their heads and eating utensils. Finally, Spike saw the words he was looking for pass over their lips. "Hostile 17."
"They're here," he said, his eyes still fixed on the men. Spike's entire table suddenly gasped and spun around to see. They locked eyes with each other, both groups quickly turned back around for a huddle. Everyone that is, except for Spike, who kept right on staring. He found all of this very amusing. He stood up at the table and both groups looked at him as if he had just pulled a gun out of that jacket of his.
"Spike," Dawn whispered harshly. "What are you doing?" She tugged on his jacket.
"Relax. I'm just going to have some friendly banter," he said devilishly, looking very much like his old self. This made Dawn nervous.
"Hey, boys!" Spike waved to the group of men as his own friends looked at him as if he was nuts.
The Initiative's collective eyeballs got wide as saucers and they suddenly got up from their chairs and rushed out the back door. They weren't expecting combat, and they didn't want to start anything in front of all these civilians. "Hmm…seems they don't feel much like chatting," Spike mused. "And there's so much I want to catch up on."
In one dramatic swoop of his coat, Spike followed them out of the door. His roommates exchanged very nervous glances and then went to join him.
"Oh, hey, guys," Spike smiled at the men as he advanced on them very quickly. The soldiers fell back into a fairly strategic attack stance as the rest of Spike's crew filed in behind him. "Remember me? A couple of your buddies and I used to pal around together in the good ol' days," he said casually and then grabbed one of them and pinned him against the wall so fast it took a second for the humans in the mix to even realize what happened. Before any of them could react, Roman, Nell and Davis were upon them, holding their heads back to expose their necks in a hostage like position. "Yeah, they put this nifty chip in my head," Spike continued as he punched the kid in the face.
"Spike," Dawn protested.
"But it seems it wore off," he punched him again, snapping the kids head back in the other direction.
"Isn't that wild?" he punched him one last time.
"Spike!" Dawn screamed this time.
"What the hell are you wankers doing in my town?" Spike screamed at the now bloody soldier.
"You're town?" the kid spat blood back at Spike disdainfully.
"Yeah, Major Glory. My town. Didn't you get the memo?"
"Well, we're taking it back," the young man said with sudden resolve.
"Oh," Spike growled as he got right up in the kid's face, fangs bared menacingly. "I seriously doubt that."
Suddenly, Spike felt something hit him in the back of the head. The distraction was enough for the soldier to wiggle free, but Dawn was quicker and managed to snatch his weapon before he could turn it on Spike.
"Go," she whispered to them desperately. "Just get out of here."
Already having seized their own hostages' weapons, the rest of the vampires followed suit, waving them off to contend with this new development. Spike whirled around to see a girl of about 16 twirling a stake confidently. "You wanna dance?" she asked as if she was staring in a bad Jean-Claude Van Dame movie.
Spike took a step back and eyed her apprehensively. He turned slightly to Dawn. "Don't even tell me…"
"Ryan, put the stake down," Dawn grumbled, covering her face as if she was embarrassed.
"Dawn?" the girl, asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Whoa," Roman said, looking as if his head was going to explode. "Who the fuck is this now?!?" The poor kid had to digest an awful lot of information in a short amount of time, and every new revelation seemed to take a toll on his sanity.
"Everyone," Dawn sighed. "This is Ryan. She's the Slayer."
The next day, Spike and Dawn explained everything. Who the Initiative was, how they know each other, what they did to Spike. Everything. The group was obviously floored.
"And you think they did this?" Roman asked, still in awe of the whole thing. He asked about 95 questions about the chip.
Spike shrugged. "I'd be willing to make a wager. In the meantime, I think we should lay off feeding as long as we can."
"And keep a low profile," Dawn added.
"No. Profiles are to be kept high," Spike corrected her, the old evil mischief showing in his voice. "If those fuckers are in the city, I want to deal with them face to face."
That night, the group held an informal memorial service of sorts for Jack at the Deep End. "His apartment always smelled like mustard," Davis remembered fondly.
Nell then proceeded to give her eulogy, which was actually all the lyrics to The Joshua Tree. Halfway into "Bullet the Blue Sky," Spike noticed a group of young men walk awkwardly into the bar and take a seat at a table across from them. They had the appearance of a group of people who were trying desperately to fit in and knew they weren't. Their eyes darted about the room nervously, and they talked to each other without making eye contact, a sure sign that rather obvious people were trying to be discreet.
So Spike just stared at them. Not in a curious way, but in a very frightening, deliberate way. The kind of staring that gets you noticed. And they did. They tried to keep up their casual charade for a bit but when Spike wouldn't relent, they began to get nervous. Their hands when up now when they spoke to each other, and they gestured to him clumsily with their heads and eating utensils. Finally, Spike saw the words he was looking for pass over their lips. "Hostile 17."
"They're here," he said, his eyes still fixed on the men. Spike's entire table suddenly gasped and spun around to see. They locked eyes with each other, both groups quickly turned back around for a huddle. Everyone that is, except for Spike, who kept right on staring. He found all of this very amusing. He stood up at the table and both groups looked at him as if he had just pulled a gun out of that jacket of his.
"Spike," Dawn whispered harshly. "What are you doing?" She tugged on his jacket.
"Relax. I'm just going to have some friendly banter," he said devilishly, looking very much like his old self. This made Dawn nervous.
"Hey, boys!" Spike waved to the group of men as his own friends looked at him as if he was nuts.
The Initiative's collective eyeballs got wide as saucers and they suddenly got up from their chairs and rushed out the back door. They weren't expecting combat, and they didn't want to start anything in front of all these civilians. "Hmm…seems they don't feel much like chatting," Spike mused. "And there's so much I want to catch up on."
In one dramatic swoop of his coat, Spike followed them out of the door. His roommates exchanged very nervous glances and then went to join him.
"Oh, hey, guys," Spike smiled at the men as he advanced on them very quickly. The soldiers fell back into a fairly strategic attack stance as the rest of Spike's crew filed in behind him. "Remember me? A couple of your buddies and I used to pal around together in the good ol' days," he said casually and then grabbed one of them and pinned him against the wall so fast it took a second for the humans in the mix to even realize what happened. Before any of them could react, Roman, Nell and Davis were upon them, holding their heads back to expose their necks in a hostage like position. "Yeah, they put this nifty chip in my head," Spike continued as he punched the kid in the face.
"Spike," Dawn protested.
"But it seems it wore off," he punched him again, snapping the kids head back in the other direction.
"Isn't that wild?" he punched him one last time.
"Spike!" Dawn screamed this time.
"What the hell are you wankers doing in my town?" Spike screamed at the now bloody soldier.
"You're town?" the kid spat blood back at Spike disdainfully.
"Yeah, Major Glory. My town. Didn't you get the memo?"
"Well, we're taking it back," the young man said with sudden resolve.
"Oh," Spike growled as he got right up in the kid's face, fangs bared menacingly. "I seriously doubt that."
Suddenly, Spike felt something hit him in the back of the head. The distraction was enough for the soldier to wiggle free, but Dawn was quicker and managed to snatch his weapon before he could turn it on Spike.
"Go," she whispered to them desperately. "Just get out of here."
Already having seized their own hostages' weapons, the rest of the vampires followed suit, waving them off to contend with this new development. Spike whirled around to see a girl of about 16 twirling a stake confidently. "You wanna dance?" she asked as if she was staring in a bad Jean-Claude Van Dame movie.
Spike took a step back and eyed her apprehensively. He turned slightly to Dawn. "Don't even tell me…"
"Ryan, put the stake down," Dawn grumbled, covering her face as if she was embarrassed.
"Dawn?" the girl, asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Whoa," Roman said, looking as if his head was going to explode. "Who the fuck is this now?!?" The poor kid had to digest an awful lot of information in a short amount of time, and every new revelation seemed to take a toll on his sanity.
"Everyone," Dawn sighed. "This is Ryan. She's the Slayer."