Ten Thousand
by wisteria

7. Athens



Athens used to be a stunning place, all white marble and pillars, and the long, white columns of Greek necks just waiting to be bitten. Now, though.... well, Spike assumed it was still beautiful, except he could hardly see it through the thick smog that obscured even the night.

He remembered an evening here with Dru back in '63. Drinking ouzo in a café while a bouzouki player on one side warred with the rock 'n roll on the other. Watching the beautiful young people parade past, and doing the "this one" "no, that one" tease with his own dark beauty. Feeling like they were perched on top of a world that was theirs for the taking.

Spike didn't know now if he was still supposed to call those "good times" or not.

Wasn't supposed to revel in the kill anymore, right? The demon back in Kampala hadn't handed him a copy of Souls for Dummies, but Spike at least knew that much. Still, the memory of the atmosphere, if not the kill, was too sweet not to be treasured.

He'd had a stroke or two of luck earlier. The boat arrived in Greece just after sunset, and he had a time zone difference on his side too. Lots of time to hit the town.

After getting off the ship – and good riddance! – he'd taken a taxi into Athens, wanting to see if that café still held the same magic. When he got there, he discovered that it had been turned into a car park for some Olympics venue. Of course.

He walked through Plaka, curious if it was still the main vampire hangout in town. Alas, his favorite old ouzerie was now a combo Pizza Hut/Taco Bell, but even through the exhaust fumes, he could smell that special Eau de Vampire.

Though he had business to conduct, Spike popped into the Taco Bell and got a beef burrito, ignoring the clerk who grumbled in broken English that they were about to close. You can take the vamp out of Sunnydale, but....

The crap burrito almost did the trick, but he was starving for something else. All that Ugandan blood was almost gone. Time to see if Athens had a black market.

Some vampires sat at a sidewalk café. They weren't in game face, but Spike knew what they were. He listened harder and noticed they were speaking Portuguese. In Greece, of all places. Maybe they knew where to get blood, outside of killing a few humans.

"Oi, aonde eu posso conseguir sangue?

The woman looked up up-and-down with a sneer. "Na lojo do Spiro." She pointed down the street and rattled off some directions to what was presumably some bloke named Spiro's butcher shop. Spike did a quick mental translation, then mapped out where she'd indicated.

When he looked back at her, she was whispering to her companion. Spike knew enough Portuguese to recognize an insult.

As he walked away, he called out, "Obrigado, cadela!" and raised his fingers in a V-shaped salute. Good thing they looked too drunk to come after him.

The place was easy to find, both because of the large sign in Greek and English, and the vamp latched onto the neck of some bird.

Spike nearly cheered. He'd been itching for a brawl for too long. "Back off, asshole!" he yelled, as he fumbled in his backpack for the pencil he'd used to do crosswords on the ship.

Both vamp and human looked shocked. "Hey, man!" the vamp yelled back in a southern American accent. "She's my girlfriend!" He shook his head and grumbled, "Way to kill the mood."

Spike skidded to a stop a few feet away. Staking the guy would've been a lark, but he knew all about vamp/human interracial dating. He glanced over at the girl; she had a hell of a hickey, but no bite marks.

Finally, he shrugged and slipped the pencil into his jeans pocket. "Right. Carry on, then. I'm just here about the blood."

"Spiro's?" Off Spike's nod, he continued, "Use the intercom to buzz him, and he'll do the invite. The stuff tastes like horseshit, but it does the trick."

"Thanks," Spike muttered as he pressed the intercom.

When he looked back at the couple, he guessed all was forgiven. They were already back to rutting against the wall.

Spike stabbed the button again with a grumble. Hot against-the-wall sex. He missed that.





Another city, another internet café. Athens this time, though, with a full bar and an unofficial "welcome, smokers" policy. Made things much more comfortable. So he sipped beer and inhaled the cig, and he almost felt right at home. Maybe he should skip Sunnydale altogether when he got back. Take Buffy off to L.A., New York, whatever. Someplace with more atmosphere.

No mail from Clem in his mailbox, which surprised him. Demon was online all the time. Even as Spike had teased Clem, he'd stared intently over a flabby shoulder, picking up a few tricks here and there. Never knew when they might come in handy. He still had to wonder, though, why Clem had a brand new computer and DSL... and no cable TV.

Just in case something was indeed up, Spike opened a new window and went over to cleminator.com. The last blog entry was almost a week old, and Clem still hadn't updated his Days of Our Lives recaps page. Odd.

Oh, well. Spike shrugged and went back over to his e-mail. He'd give Clem a call or something.

Then he went over to another online diary, one he'd been checking ever since he and Clem tracked it down one afternoon. It was updated as of last night. Too much technical shit for Spike, but it told him what he needed to know. All he had to do was wait, and she'd show up here like her website said she did every night.

He scrolled back up to look at the photos. She sure was a pretty thing.

And when he looked up at the café doorway, there she was, scanning the room as if looking for familiar faces.

Spike quickly hit the back button until he was at Clem's site again, then he pretended to be engrossed in the decidedly un-engrossing Days recaps. The woman grinned at the barkeep, apparently ordering her usual. Luck was definitely with him tonight, because she took a seat at the terminal right next to him.

With his peripheral vision, he watched her as she set her drink down then logged on to the computer and checked her e-mail. She leaned into the screen as if absorbing the words, and every few moments a smile would spread over her face. Long, brown hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion. She rolled her shoulders as if to work out the kinks, and her hair swung against her back. At one point, she reached down to get something out of her backpack, and Spike noticed that it was quite similar to his, albeit in electric blue instead of yellow.

She reminded him of Dawn; both young women had a sense of beauty just beginning to flourish. The connection didn't surprise him. He felt warm, enthralled, as he stared at her without trying to look like he was staring.

"Brilliant!" she exclaimed. Then she turned to him, a sheepish grin on her face. "Sorry, didn't mean to say that aloud."

Spike smoothed his face into a look of passive interest. "Good news?"

"Yeah." She turned back to the monitor. "My project supervisors back in London were able to get my grant approved."

He pretended like he had no idea what she meant. "Congratulations?"

She laughed, and the sound was as smooth as school flannel. Warm and bright, just like her face. "Thanks! This means I'll get to stay here in Athens for at least another six months."

Spike had read up on her, had seen her diary entries six weeks ago when she was working on the proposal. He knew what it meant to her, but he couldn't tell her that without giving the game away.

When he first started to think about heading up here back in Kampala, he'd remembered her giving the name of the café where she updated her site. Time for a bit of a family reunion.

Shortly after William's death, his sister Isobel married a man named Walter Monroe. Their two children grew up, got married, and so on. In 1978, William's great-great-great niece Lucy was born.

The Internet was a very strange beast. Spike had been bored one afternoon, so he and Clem somehow ended up at a family genealogy site, thinking it'd be a lark to read William's legacy, or lack thereof.

Instead, he found himself reading all about the adventures of Lucy Parker, her family's pride and joy. Earned a first at University College, London, in archeology and applied classical studies. She even had a website and online diary about her dig in Athens.

And now, a hundred and twenty-two years after Drusilla followed him into an alley, William was back with his family.

He pretended to read Clem's site, but the words scarcely registered. The feelings swirling around inside him were strange. He hadn't expected this at all. Thought it'd be a lark to look Lucy up when he got to Athens. Maybe track her down in this internet cafe where she said she came every night. But he never expected to feel this warm glow from having her sit next to him, or from hearing her voice.

Spike hadn't missed his family one bit over the past century. Hell, he'd been happy to be rid of them. Now he was with them again – one part of them, at least – and it felt really good. Oh, she was a beauty, too. The comparison to Dawn was right. He felt a surge of pride in both of them. His girls.

"Bugger!" she muttered. Oh, yeah. She was definitely his kin. Loud enough for him to hear – on purpose? – Lucy said, "Wretched server in London is down again. Now I have to wait a half-hour and re-login."

She took a long sip of her beer then turned to look at him. "Haven't seen you around here before. You're English?"

For the first time in forever, he found himself nearly at a loss for words. "Yeah."

Holding out a hand, she said, "I'm Lucy. Nice to meet you."

He shook it, and his confidence fell back into place. "Spike. It's a pleasure." The words didn't quite feel like him, and yet they did. A new, enhanced him. Maybe it was the soul.

Her face brightened and her lips curled into a smirk that was so much like Dawn's that it hurt. "Spike, like the director? Quite cool."

Giving her his most brilliant smile, he murmured, "Something like that, pet."

"You're a charmer." She swirled her now-empty beer bottle. "Want to buy me another Olympus, Spike? A good beer always opens my... " Lucy shifted in her seat, uncrossing her legs, "heart."

Oh, shit. He tried to keep from looking appalled. He'd done some seriously wild things over the past century, but sex with family members was beyond even him, soul or not.

With a slightly less-brilliant smile, he told her, "I'll buy you a drink, but I'm not going home with you."

"We don't need to go home," she practically crooned. The internet diary hadn't let on that she was such a flirt.

"Sorry, love, but you're not my type."

She stared at him, a slow comprehension spreading over her face. "Right. You're gay. My mistake. I should've known."

"No!" he sputtered. Then he did a double-take. Did he look gay?

She quirked a brow. "Oh?"

Girl wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Chip off the old block. He'd be proud of her if he weren't really, really uncomfortable. So he said, "Uh, yeah. I'm gay."

Lucy gave him a long one-over, then laughed. "No, you're not. You'll have to try harder than that, Spike. It's a relief, though. Seems like most of the English men here in Athens during the summer are gay."

He let himself relax. "You found me out. Not gay, just taken."

"Ah," she said with an affected wisdom. "I'm in the market for a boyfriend, but I'm not into taking someone else's."

Not anyone's boyfriend, though God, I wish I were, he almost replied, but he held his tongue. Talking to her was fun. He didn't want to spiral into a Buffy-induced funk.

Lucy squared her shoulders and held out the empty bottle. "You go get me another beer, Spike, and then you can tell me all about this girl who's keeping you away from me."

Such a flirt. He finally grinned at her and took the bottle. Walking over to the bar, he had to bite his lip to keep from breaking into laughter. This was fun. Should've done it a long time ago.

Finally, a family reunion that suited his twisted soul.


END, Chapter Seven

wisteria@smyrnacable.net