Green Eyed Slayer
Chapter Two: Spike
"What can I get ya?"
I wasn't surprised at the broad Northumberland accent I heard once I'd slumped at the bar, but what did surprise me was the tone. Girls weren't uncommon behind bars, 'specially not in these pubs, but they usually sounded weary an' run down. This girl sounded fresh an' cheerful but when I glanced up at her, it was clear that it wasn't 'cause she was new to the job, must've just been her nature. From the way she held herself - one hand on her right hip and her head tilted to the left - the way she confidently filled a glass for another customer an' the teacloth slung over her shoulder, told me she'd been at this for a while.
"Don't tell me," she said when I didn't answer immediately. "Whiskey? But not the rubbish kind, you want the good stuff, that right?"
I nodded and slumped forward over the bar, hands supporting my head, trying hard not to think of Dru and Angelus, but the more I tried not to, the more I did.
"Aye, I'll be as quick as I can, sir."
She poured me a whiskey and rested it on the bar in front of me. She studied me as she wiped her hands on the cloth from her shoulder.
"What's wrong, eh?" she asked.
I shook my head and she leaned over the bar at me.
"Woman?" she asked.
"Yeah," I answered.
"So you've got a tongue in yer pretty head, have you?" she laughed.
I couldn't help but laugh with her.
"What's your name?" I asked.
She smiled a crooked smile.
"Gwen," she answered. "You?"
"William."
And after that, I laughed with her most of the night, 'til later on when a bit of trouble blew up.
"C'mon, girlie," one of the toothless old gits leered as she went to wipe the tables. "Yer 'ere to serve, ain't ya? So serve us."
He grabbed her hips and she flicked him over the head with her cloth.
"You keep your hands to yerself, Mr Barry," she said. "An' I'll be servin' no one owt but beer. What would your wife say if I told 'er what you've been up to, eh? 'Cause I see her oft enough in the market place."
The old bloke leaned back in his chair an' I couldn't help smiling at her fiery nature. Her hair had come loose over the hours I'd sat there and she had given up trying to tame it so it now hung loose. Long curls dangled down her back and curtained her face as she bent over one of the tables and wiped it. The toothless git elbowed his pal who leant forward and rubbed callused hands over the coarse fabric of her long skirt. She whirled round and glared at him.
"I'll have the landlord on you," she threatened. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, keep yer dirty hands to yerself, else one day you might find you have none."
"You threatenin' me, witch?" he asked, standing up and towering over her petite frame.
"Witch?" she scoffed, lifting her chin in defiance.
"Aye, lass," he nodded. "I've been hearin' tales of you. Runnin' wild up in Langley an' gettin' yerself decent lodgin's in this town. Ain't natural, I tell you. So, I'm thinkin' if you don't want me goin' to yer boss, yer gonna have to do somethin' for me," he caught her hips and backed her into the bar. The filthy hands running over her body.
The landlord ran out of his back room.
"Now, now, lads," he said, flappin' round them.
I'd had enough, so I got up and knocked the landlord to one side. Despite my drunken state, I grabbed the drunk by his collar, lifted him off his feet and rammed him into the far wall. There were muffled gasps at what I assumed was because the skinny lad who'd been knockin' 'em back all evenin' was so strong.
"I think you heard the girl, didn't you?" I asked. "Told you to keep your hands to yourself, she did, and here you are, harassin' her. Not exactly polite, are you?"
"Get your hands off me," he made to push me away so I thumped him against the wall to remind him who was in control. "You Londoners think you're so great."
"'Cause we are," I answered. "Compared to poofs like you, we are. Now, why don't you apologise to Gwen?"
"A whore like 'er?" he asked. "Never."
I rotated my wrists so his oxygen intake became an issue.
"An' I'll ask you again," I said. "Why don't you apologise to young Gwen here?"
He looked at her, then his eyes flickered to down to me and he sighed.
"Sorry, lass."
"That's quite all right, Mr Bradford, just so long as yer hands only wander as far as the beer."
I dropped him and flashed her a grin. When I returned to the bar, she laid a hand on my arm and whispered, "Thanks for that, sir, I always 'ave trouble with 'im, but none so bad as that."
"I've told you," I answered, reachin' for my whiskey. "Call me William."
Never thought I'd see Gwen in this neck of the woods, I actually hadn't thought about her in a while. Red reminds me of her, when I first saw her I had to do a double take, thinking it was Gwen. But Red's far too quiet to be Gwen, plus she's American.
I look over at Gwen; she's reading one of the Watcher's books. She always liked reading, I taught her how. Her being of the working class, she didn't have much of an education, though she could write her name. She asked me to teach her, so I did. It was something to do while Dru was off with Angelus and it meant I didn't have to listen to Darla's griping. And that's what I turned her for, if I'm honest, I wanted someone who I knew only wanted to be around me and who I could pass time with when Dru was having her fun. And it worked quite well for a time, till I heard Angelus talking to Darla 'bout staking her if she didn't start killing. I liked Gwen and I knew I couldn't stop Angelus, but I could arse up his plans a bit. You should've seen his face when I told him she'd gone. Wish I'd had a camera, that was one to savour.
She's settled in all right, brought her to the shop 'bout an hour ago. The Slayer explained the situation and apart from ol' Giles wanting a word with the Slayer, the others shrinking back a little and Harris's usual useless comment, they dealt with it.
Her legs are stretched out in front of her. She's wearing baggy camouflage trousers, heavy army boots and a black sleeveless top. I'll bet she was happy as anything when woman started wearing pants, never was too girlie was Gwen. Her hair, though, is the only girlish thing 'bout her. Angelus took a shine to her at first because of the way she looked, apparently she bore a resemblance to some of the Irish girls in Galway with her curly red hair, green eyes, milky skin and fiery temperament. She hasn't touched her hair. It's still thick and hangs below her shoulders in large ringlets near the end of her hair. It's the most amazing shade of red, not ginger, but real blood red. Right now, it's tugged up in an untidy ponytail, but you should see it down, really. Her eyes are pretty, I s'pose. They look too big for her face, large, green - no hint of brown - and framed with thick lashes. All in all, the girl's quite the beauty. And she's in love with me.
Yeah, she is, always has been. She's s'posed to be, obviously, me being her Sire an' all, but sometimes I think it's more than that. She's lived for over a hundred years and she hasn't had anyone. Not like me and Dru, and - despite their numerous betrayals - Darla and Angelus. She's just always been alone. She never made any secret of being in love with me, not once has she denied it. At first, she didn't like that I was in love with Dru, but over time, she got used to it. I love her too, but it's only the way I love Niblet, it's not liked I loved Dru or like I love Buffy.
I think she didn't like me so much over the years when I became quite the monster. After our encounter in France, when I shoved her against the wall and threatened to knock seven bells outta her if she didn't treat me like a Childe should treat their Sire, she stopped seeking me out. Not that she ever trailed me though, just if she heard I was somewhere, she'd look me up, say hi, catch up and go off again. I didn't mind so much. But I don't think she meant to see me in Prague. I have to say I felt bad for threatening her, but she pretended to have forgotten it, but I could tell by the sting in all her comments that she was pissed at me.
She seems to have forgiven me now though, she can hold a grudge for the longest time against anyone, but I like to think she's got a weak spot for me.
Dawn sidles over to me now and sit down. She hides her head behind her book and pokes me in the arm.
"Spike," she hisses.
"Yeah, Bit?" I ask.
"Sssh! I want to ask you about Gwen."
"Oh?"
"Is she English?"
I could've laughed out loud at that, but I held it in, seeing she was serious. Don't they teach 'em anything in these schools? But it's true, after all these years of gallivanting round the world on that Harley of hers - best lookin' machine I've seen in a good long while, by the way - her broad Northumberland accent has faded. It's a twang now, in some words and she still says "aye" like she used to. But the thing with her is, if you get her talking 'bout that month she spent with me, Dru, Angelus and Darla or you ask her 'bout where she grew up, the lilt creeps into her voice 'til it's an echo of the one I heard it in that pub over a century ago.
"She is English," I tell Bit.
"Where in England if she from, then?"
"Northumberland," Gwen says, not looking up from her book. "I'm from a town just outside Newcastle, far north of London, s'pose you could call me a Geordie. Don't sound it, I know."
Dawn blushes bright red and mumbles something.
"Don't worry about it, lass," Gwen says. "You weren't to know."
Dawn nods and scuttles off to some distant corner to bury her nose in her homework.
"Huh," I snort.
She gets up and wanders over to the counter where she hands Giles his book. He smiles nervously, like she'll rip his throat out if he's anything other than gracious. She probably might have done it she hadn't got a big thing 'bout killin' humans.
"Er, yes," he nods. "Thank you, uh, Gwen."
"It's all right," she shrugs. "They're interesting. Never had the opportunity to read any of the Slayer books before."
He looks surprised at her interest and turns around to sort through a big pile of books. He pulls one out and pushes his glasses up his nose as he puts it on the counter an' opens it up.
"You might find this uh, interesting," he says.
She bends over it and frowns, flicking through the pages before smiling.
"Ok," she replies and wanders towards me with her nose stuck in it.
Next thing I know, she's dropped into my lap and shifted so I can see the book over her shoulder.
"See this?" she asks and points to a paragraph before clearing her throat and reading, "'The red headed female vampire has been sighted at various points over the years, most recently in 1984 when she fought a Wielder demon who was attacking a young couple. Before then, she was sighted in the battlefields of France in the First World War. She has never been known to kill although this does not prevent her feeding. There are many theories surrounding her behaviour but the most likely is that she acquired a soul like that of her Great Grandsire, Angelus. It has also been suggested that she has no soul but does not enjoy killing, but for a Childe of William the Bloody, Slayer of two Slayers, this is doubtful,'" she laughs and looks up at Giles, who's smiling at her from the counter. "You knew this was me?"
"Well, yes," he admits. "But I haven't looked at that book in a long while, so I didn't know you were related to Spike. You really have been the subject of much debate."
"Really?" she asks. "Cool," she twists around in my lap and grins at me. "I'm the subject of much debate," she sticks her tongue out slightly. "Top that Mr I-Killed-Two-Slayers and Mr Great-Grandsire-Got-A-Soul."
"Isn't this cosy."
I groan inwardly when I recognise Harris's voice. Gwen rolls her eyes and puts her arm round me as she leans round to see Xander and the Slayer. Oh, bloody 'ell.
"Hello, lad," she acknowledges. "Slayer."
"Still entertaining your friend, Spike? Or is she entertaining you?" Xander asks, Buffy hasn't said a word, just keeps on glaring.
"Friend?" Gwen raises an eyebrow. "Me and Spike are more than friends, Xander."
Buffy seems to pale and turns sharply and walks over to Dawn, no doubt questioning her 'bout her homework.
"Gwen," I say and look at Harris. "She's right. I made her, a lot closer than friendship."
"As you might find out one day," Gwen adds. "Living on a Hellmouth and all."
He looks threatened and backs away towards the counter.
"Where's Anya, Giles?" he asks.
"Out back doing an inventory," he answers.
Xander nods and disappear to play with the demon chit.
Buffy looks at the two of us - me and Gwen - huddled on one chair and purses her lips.
"If you can prise yourselves apart, I thought you wanted to patrol, Spike."
Well, well. Was there jealousy in that voice? Nothing like a bit of the green eyed monster to boost a man's ego. Not that I could ever imagine the Slayer getting' jealous over me and Gwen. But then I never imagined she'd come back, not after… Anyway, if Gwen carries on like this, I reckon I might find a new side to the Slayer.
Yeah, I don't think I'll ever regret turning that girl.
I slunk back into the shadows of the alley as a drunken man laughed his way past, followed by a prim an' proper lady. I listened carefully, leanin' my head against the brick wall. I could hear her voice, herding the men out, could hear their disgustin' comments and her smart mouth answers. I smiled; I'd taken quite a shine to her. Though I didn't understand why the landlord left the runnin' of his public house to a twenty year old girl, but she had said she'd been at it for two years. I listened to the vague chinks of glasses and waited. I stared into the open street, where hookers strode nonchalantly up and down, bobbin' in an' out of the pools of light from the black, iron street lamps. I watched how they slunk into the shadows as I myself did when a local bobby wandered past, whistling an' twirlin' his truncheon, looking for all the world like he knew the night and what it held.
Stupid git didn't have any idea that the night held worse creatures than he could dream of and I was one of 'em. The girl inside never had any idea either. I heard the sound of talkin' from the front door of the pub, a brief conversation between Gwen an' her boss. Then I heard her walkin' along the cobbled streets in her hard heeled workin' boots. I heard the bobby greet her and her return it. I could smell her comin' closer and moved to the mouth of the alley. When she walked past, I grabbed her wrist and yanked in into the alley, covering her hand with my mouth. For a few seconds I bobbed into the light and twisted her around so she could see me. Then I released her mouth.
"William?" she asked, gasping a little.
"The one and only," I answered and prowled towards her, she backed into the wall and I leaned over her, one hand each side of her head.
"What are you doin' out 'ere?" she asked, her breath quickening though I smelt no fear, to my surprise I smelt arousal.
"Waiting for you," I answered and bent forwards to nuzzle that sweet hair that covered the milky neck.
"Are you takin' liberties?" she asked, she sounded almost hopeful. "'Cause if you are, I'm -"
I shut her up with a fierce kiss that she responded to with a passion you wouldn't have thought the small barmaid capable of. Despite her fiery nature, I never expected the aggression in that kiss or that she would be so good at it. It was so powerful that it consumed me, I grabbed her round the waist and stumbled back into the wall behind us, my hands openly roaming her curvy little body. She pulled back, gasping and clutching her chest. When she got her breath back, she smiled at me and leaned in again. I was immediately aroused, 'cause no woman but Drusilla was ever that forward, not in that day and age anyway. I caught her shoulders and stopped her, though I wanted nothing more than to feel those lips on mine, it was the only thing that night that dispelled the picture of Dru with Angelus. Her face became angry and she pulled away.
"Is that your game, sir?" she demanded. "You talk to me all night as though we were equals, pull me 'ere an' kiss me an' when I respond you don't like it? You like to break young lasses without their permission, that it, sir?"
"William," I corrected. "You are beautiful, Gwen," I said, watching her as she paced while I leaned against the wall. "How would you like to be beautiful forever?"
"What?" she asked.
I pinned her to the wall again and slipped into my game face. At last, I smelt the fear, though the arousal still underlined it.
"Know what I am, Gwen?" I asked.
"The - the old witch down the lane, she said there were night walkers," she gulped. "You're one of them."
It wasn't a question, a matter-of-fact statement.
"Vampire is the more common term, love," I told her. "An' I can make you one. You'll be strong and young forever, immortal. Beautiful forever. You'd like that?"
"Would I be with you forever?" she asked, her voice a soft breath.
"The best part of forever," I answered. "Do you want to?"
"How?"
"I suck your blood," I ran a finger along her neck and she shivered an' closed her eyes. "Then you suck mine," I smirked. "So, Gwen, do you want to be like me?"
She didn't answer, but she tilted her head to the side and gave her hair a shake to expose her tender neck. I didn't hesitate in sinking my teeth in.
I knew I'd never regret turning her.