Tequilla and Clicking Things
Summary: Spike meets someone in a bar.
Author`s note: The story takes place very early in Season 2, before Spike and Drusilla came to Sunnydale.
Disclaimer: I don`t own Buffyverse and its characters. Joss does.
****
"Hit me!"
The bartender raised his eyebrows but complied. Another (What was it? His third? Ah, who the Hell cares) shot of tequilla appeared in front of Spike. He downed it in one gulp, then, deciding that it was enough for starters, looked around.
The bar was nothing special, just some dark, dank and cheap place that sold booze and, judging by the drunk teenagers all around, didn`t ask for an ID. And that was all Spike needed at the moment. Some place where he would never come to with Dru.
Remembering Dru made Spike order another drink.Dru was a really tough subject for him right now.
Spike loved his dark princess with all of his unbeating evil heart. He loved her long, lacy dresses that were long out of date. He loved her dolls although they creeped him out, and that was saying a lot. He loved the cute pout she made when she wanted him to get her something. He loved her because she was so evil and vicious and at the same time so week and soft. He even loved her insanity.
But sometimes, it all gets bloody annoying!
The glass nearly shattered in Spike`s grip but he managed to get ahold of himself just in time. There was no need to draw attention to himself. He really didn`t feel up to a massacre. The vampire just wanted to have a drink and mope a bit. Evil could take a night off, right? He even had a wallet with him to pay for the drinks.
Spike sighed, ordering yet another drink. Why couldn`t love just be more...simple?
He chuckled. Yeah. Then it wouldn`t be nearly as interesting.
That`s another thing you love about her, he reminded himself. She is anything but simple. She`s illogical, confusing, amazing, surprising.
The problem was that, constantly being not bored could get... boring. Well, not *actually* boring, he wouldn`t go that far but...too much is never good.
Spike had constantly been by Drusilla`s side ever since they had returned from Paris. His minions brought them food while Spike himself was taking care of his princess. He fed her, washed her, kept her from moving and hurting herself even more. And he listened to her insane ramblings, love songs to the stars and all that other shit that was starting to irritate him.
Not that it was anything new. He had always taken care of her, just never this long without any interruptions, without any time for himself. This was Spike`s first time out of the house in months. Drusilla was better now, she could walk and eat by herself. And Spike had been almost frighteningly happy at the chance to spend a night without having to listen to her.
"Must be 'cause I`m getting old, " he thought, lifting the glass to his mouth.
Spike was getting seriously tired of Drusilla`s insanity. Of her living in another world. Of her constant calling for her "Daddy". Of her odes to shoes who told her about sunlight. Of the fact that he was damn near of going crazy himself!
As Spike tried to calm down he noticed that he was a little drunk. The walls weren`t steady, they seemed to spin around a bit, and his tongue felt heavy.
"Huh," was all Spike thought before waving to the bartender and ordering another drink in a voice that wasn`t so clear anymore.
****
"Hey. Is this seat taken?"
Spike turned his head in the approximate direction of the voice. By now he was so drunk that it actually surprised him that he was still sitting, not lying on the floor. But hey, you never know what death (or drinking heavily for a hundred-plus years) can do to you.
The voice belonged to a girl. Spike`s vision wasn`t very clear but he did notice long dark hair, black worn jeans and a top that was barely there. The face wasn`t bad either - pale skin, dark eyes. Definitely human. Definitely a minor. And - he looked at her arm - definitely on something.
A junkie, Spike decided. Bugger. That meant she was off the menu. He didn`t fancy spending the next few hours in love with his own hand again, thank you very much. And it sounded so incredibly rude in his head that Spike almost started to giggle.
Instead he gestured wildly at the girl, allowing her to sit down besides him, and asked:
"What`s up, pet?"
The girl looked unsure for a moment but then visibly shook herself , put a cocky grin on her face and answered:
"You just looked like you could use some company. And like you could afford to buy me some beer."
This was almost too funny to be true. He was being picked up by a hooker and an underage one at that. Not that Spike had some kind of moral objections, no. The fact that bothered him was that apparently he had managed to look sorry enough for a third-rate hooker to choose him as an easy target.
"Look kid," he pointed at her with his glass, nearly spilling its contents on her. "What`s your name?"
She shifted uneasily, then shrugged:
"Does it matter? You can call me Ethel for all I care."
Spike burst out laughing, then wiped his mouth and stared at her.
"Ethel. You know what? If you`re in the business I think you`re in, you should take up some fancy name like Samantha or Cleopatra. Ethel just doesn`t have the right ring to it, don`t ya'think?"
The room was swaying now, or maybe it was just him.
"I think I`ll call you Cleo. What do you say?"
She shrugged once again.
"By all means. How about that beer?"
Spike chuckled, then called for the bartender.
"A beer for the, eh, lady here and Jim Beam for me. Heck, give me the whole bottle, don`t bother with glasses."
The man looked at him doubtfully, apparently wondering how the Hell could he still speak, not to mention coherently, but then shrugged and got to work. The bartenders in places like this were well taught to mind their own businesses only.
Newly-christened Cleo started sipping her beer slowly while Spike let his eyes roam over her body, drinking straight from the neck of the bottle. Nice curves for such a young girl. Maybe he should take her up on her offer. Nah, he thought, even he couldn`t do anything this pissed. But it couldn`t hurt to tease her a bit. After all, he *was* evil.
But she spoke first.
"So, what about you?"
Spike gave her a confused look. Cleo sighed impatiently and explained:
"Your name. What is your name? Or should I just call you Billy?"
The vampire sighed inwardly. Everyone thought he was copying that Idol bloke. Never mind that it was the other way around. Nobody would ever believe him.
"The name`s Spike."
Two eyebrows shot upwards.
"Wicked. Big mean name. Thought it up yourself?"
He nodded and immediately wished he hadn`t. When the room had returned to its previous only-slightly-swaying state, he answered.
"Yep. Can`t be goin` around bein` all big`n`mean with some poncy name like William now can I?"
Spike grinned, then frowned. Had he just told her his real name? Oh well. He should probably kill her. Later. Maybe.
She had finished her beer and seemed to have decided that it was time to cut to the chase.
"So, you wanna go to my place? Fifty bucks."
Spike quirked an eyebrow at that.
"Love, let me ask you something. How old exactly are you?"
Cleo flinched a little but pulled herself together.
"Old enough for whatever you want to do with me."
He smirked.
"I doubt it. `Sides, me, I`ve got me a girlfriend. Real pretty, she is. My beautiful princess."
Spike sighed, thinking about Drusilla`s long, dark curls and marble-cool skin, and her long legs, and her dark eyes, shining, shining like black pearls...
"So why are you here?"
Cleo`s voice broke the spell and Spike returned to reality. Squinting, he looked at her.
"Huh?"
"I mean why are you here, in this bar, drinking yourself into stupor instead of being with her?"
Spike seriously thought about killing her. Snapping her neck or, better yet, torturing her for hours before killing her. Come to think of that, why was he sitting here and actually *talking* to her instead of doing just that?
Oh right. He was drunk and wanted somebody to just talk to, even if it was an underage junkie hooker. Bugger. Well, the Hell with it. He might as well tell her the truth.
"Because, pet, my princess is a tough person to be around sometimes. Of course, I love her still but sometimes I just need some time to myself. Like now. And I sound like some bloody poof, don`t I?"
Spike set the bottle down on the counter and turned to her with all of his body.
"But, enough about me. What`s your story, Cleo? What is a pretty little thing like you doing in a bar like this, going around and selling yourself to arseholed Brits?"
For a moment there was naked pain in her eyes but it was gone so quickly that Spike wasn`t even sure he had seen it. Her chin went up, and in a voice that dripped sarcasm she said:
"Well that`s none of your business, is it? I`m offering you a deal. Take it or leave it. I can find someone else."
Spike laughed hard at that, lifting the bottle again.
"Nah kid. If you could, you wouldn`t be sitting here. Tell you what - you spill why you chose me of all the sorry drunken bastards with nice juicy wallets around here and I`ll think about your...offer."
Cleo gritted her teeth but they both knew she was at a dead-end. There weren`t any drunken bastards with juicy wallets here. From the looks of her she was under threat of serious withdrawal from whatever it was she was taking soon. She needed cash badly.
"Because you look like anything but a cop. Because you seem to have piles of bucks. And because you look drunk enough to sleep with me."
Hmm. A junkie underage hooker with a low self-esteem. Kids these days.
"Don`t you have to be at school or something? What is it with children actually? In my days teenage rebellion meant not doing one`s homework. Now it`s drugs and running away and everything. Aren`t your parents worried about your `profession`?" Spike asked in a voice that dripped with sarcasm.
Cleo suddenly looked furious.
"What are we, on a date here? Exchanging life stories? Well, get this - I don`t have any parents, and even when I did, they didn`t give a shit about where I was or what I did as long as I wasn`t in their way. I have no family and no friends. Nobody cares what I do. So don`t you dare lecture me about teenage rebellion. If there was anything else I could do, I would, believe me. Do you think I like this? It`s simply that I have no choice. I can`t even do *that* properly."
With the last sentence her anger faded and she just looked very tired and sad.
Spike didn`t say anything for a while. There was something strange going on in his alcohol-soaked brain. Something very much like...compassion. Which was bloody impossible seeing as he hadn`t felt that ever since his death. And even if he did, how the Hell would he even recognize it?
And still he couldn`t help feeling somewhat bad about the girl he`d named Cleo. This kid had absolutely no one. Even vampires weren`t that lonely. They always had a mate or minions. Spike had never met a lone vampire.
Everything clicked into place, and he suddenly sat up straight, completely sober and sure of what to do.
Spike took out his wallet (well, not actually his, it had belonged to his dinner, but that didn`t matter now) and paid. Then he tossed the wallet with all the remaining money to the girl.
"Here, take it. Should last you a couple of weeks."
He hopped off the bar-chair, turned to go, but looked back over his shoulder and said:
"Oh, and this drug thing? Won`t get you anywhere. Even drunk and very horny guys aren`t big on needle marks. Drop it."
Spike walked out of the bar leaving the shocked Cleo behind. He strolled down the street grinning. The little junkie had helped him understand something very important.
Dru was insane. She was sick and weak, and dependent, and reckless, and annoying. But she was his. She loved him, he was sure of that. And if Spike should die, she would scream and cry, and wreak bloody vengeance upon the poor sod that had happened to be stupid enough to kill her lover.
Dru would miss him and because of that, all her flaws were irrelevant.
Spike started to whistle a little tune. Now he was sure that everything was like it was supposed to be between him and Dru.
Remembering the girl, he shrugged. He had done as much as he could for her without actually getting generous or soft or what else in the process. And he doubted that she would follow his advice. Drug addicts usually never do.
Well, it wasn`t his concern. His concern was Dru and making her strong again. Perhaps they should go to California. He`d heard of a Hellmouth there. Maybe its energy would help Dru.
Making plans in his head, Spike hurried home.
Drusilla must miss him already.
***
She sat staring at the wallet. What was *up* with that guy? He had seemed too drunk to even do anything, and she had hoped to steal his wallet while making out and then bail. Instead he had started talking and somewhere in the middle of it all she spilled things about her life that she hadn`t told anyone.
Well, she didn`t have anyone to tell to, but that wasn`t the case, was it?
The wallet was full to the core. There was probably enough money to buy stuff for a month, or buy food for three months. Tough choice.
She looked at her hand. He was right, needle marks were very visible. And she already wanted more, God, she wanted more...
There was a clinic near her place. They had a charity program for rehabilitating drug addicts, and they never turned people down.
Maybe she should...
***
The girl stood outside the clinic and stared at the big glass door. It was hard to decide. But...that guy was right.
She lifted her arm to push the door open but felt someone tapping on her shoulder. She turned around and saw an older woman, dressed in tweed and carrying a suitcase.
"Faith. Your neighbor said you were here. I`ve come to tell you something very important. You have the potential to become a Slayer."
There was only one thought in her head.
Huh?
The End
Author`s Note: I assume that Faith recognised Spike in `Who Are You` but decided to tease him.
Summary: Spike meets someone in a bar.
Author`s note: The story takes place very early in Season 2, before Spike and Drusilla came to Sunnydale.
Disclaimer: I don`t own Buffyverse and its characters. Joss does.
****
"Hit me!"
The bartender raised his eyebrows but complied. Another (What was it? His third? Ah, who the Hell cares) shot of tequilla appeared in front of Spike. He downed it in one gulp, then, deciding that it was enough for starters, looked around.
The bar was nothing special, just some dark, dank and cheap place that sold booze and, judging by the drunk teenagers all around, didn`t ask for an ID. And that was all Spike needed at the moment. Some place where he would never come to with Dru.
Remembering Dru made Spike order another drink.Dru was a really tough subject for him right now.
Spike loved his dark princess with all of his unbeating evil heart. He loved her long, lacy dresses that were long out of date. He loved her dolls although they creeped him out, and that was saying a lot. He loved the cute pout she made when she wanted him to get her something. He loved her because she was so evil and vicious and at the same time so week and soft. He even loved her insanity.
But sometimes, it all gets bloody annoying!
The glass nearly shattered in Spike`s grip but he managed to get ahold of himself just in time. There was no need to draw attention to himself. He really didn`t feel up to a massacre. The vampire just wanted to have a drink and mope a bit. Evil could take a night off, right? He even had a wallet with him to pay for the drinks.
Spike sighed, ordering yet another drink. Why couldn`t love just be more...simple?
He chuckled. Yeah. Then it wouldn`t be nearly as interesting.
That`s another thing you love about her, he reminded himself. She is anything but simple. She`s illogical, confusing, amazing, surprising.
The problem was that, constantly being not bored could get... boring. Well, not *actually* boring, he wouldn`t go that far but...too much is never good.
Spike had constantly been by Drusilla`s side ever since they had returned from Paris. His minions brought them food while Spike himself was taking care of his princess. He fed her, washed her, kept her from moving and hurting herself even more. And he listened to her insane ramblings, love songs to the stars and all that other shit that was starting to irritate him.
Not that it was anything new. He had always taken care of her, just never this long without any interruptions, without any time for himself. This was Spike`s first time out of the house in months. Drusilla was better now, she could walk and eat by herself. And Spike had been almost frighteningly happy at the chance to spend a night without having to listen to her.
"Must be 'cause I`m getting old, " he thought, lifting the glass to his mouth.
Spike was getting seriously tired of Drusilla`s insanity. Of her living in another world. Of her constant calling for her "Daddy". Of her odes to shoes who told her about sunlight. Of the fact that he was damn near of going crazy himself!
As Spike tried to calm down he noticed that he was a little drunk. The walls weren`t steady, they seemed to spin around a bit, and his tongue felt heavy.
"Huh," was all Spike thought before waving to the bartender and ordering another drink in a voice that wasn`t so clear anymore.
****
"Hey. Is this seat taken?"
Spike turned his head in the approximate direction of the voice. By now he was so drunk that it actually surprised him that he was still sitting, not lying on the floor. But hey, you never know what death (or drinking heavily for a hundred-plus years) can do to you.
The voice belonged to a girl. Spike`s vision wasn`t very clear but he did notice long dark hair, black worn jeans and a top that was barely there. The face wasn`t bad either - pale skin, dark eyes. Definitely human. Definitely a minor. And - he looked at her arm - definitely on something.
A junkie, Spike decided. Bugger. That meant she was off the menu. He didn`t fancy spending the next few hours in love with his own hand again, thank you very much. And it sounded so incredibly rude in his head that Spike almost started to giggle.
Instead he gestured wildly at the girl, allowing her to sit down besides him, and asked:
"What`s up, pet?"
The girl looked unsure for a moment but then visibly shook herself , put a cocky grin on her face and answered:
"You just looked like you could use some company. And like you could afford to buy me some beer."
This was almost too funny to be true. He was being picked up by a hooker and an underage one at that. Not that Spike had some kind of moral objections, no. The fact that bothered him was that apparently he had managed to look sorry enough for a third-rate hooker to choose him as an easy target.
"Look kid," he pointed at her with his glass, nearly spilling its contents on her. "What`s your name?"
She shifted uneasily, then shrugged:
"Does it matter? You can call me Ethel for all I care."
Spike burst out laughing, then wiped his mouth and stared at her.
"Ethel. You know what? If you`re in the business I think you`re in, you should take up some fancy name like Samantha or Cleopatra. Ethel just doesn`t have the right ring to it, don`t ya'think?"
The room was swaying now, or maybe it was just him.
"I think I`ll call you Cleo. What do you say?"
She shrugged once again.
"By all means. How about that beer?"
Spike chuckled, then called for the bartender.
"A beer for the, eh, lady here and Jim Beam for me. Heck, give me the whole bottle, don`t bother with glasses."
The man looked at him doubtfully, apparently wondering how the Hell could he still speak, not to mention coherently, but then shrugged and got to work. The bartenders in places like this were well taught to mind their own businesses only.
Newly-christened Cleo started sipping her beer slowly while Spike let his eyes roam over her body, drinking straight from the neck of the bottle. Nice curves for such a young girl. Maybe he should take her up on her offer. Nah, he thought, even he couldn`t do anything this pissed. But it couldn`t hurt to tease her a bit. After all, he *was* evil.
But she spoke first.
"So, what about you?"
Spike gave her a confused look. Cleo sighed impatiently and explained:
"Your name. What is your name? Or should I just call you Billy?"
The vampire sighed inwardly. Everyone thought he was copying that Idol bloke. Never mind that it was the other way around. Nobody would ever believe him.
"The name`s Spike."
Two eyebrows shot upwards.
"Wicked. Big mean name. Thought it up yourself?"
He nodded and immediately wished he hadn`t. When the room had returned to its previous only-slightly-swaying state, he answered.
"Yep. Can`t be goin` around bein` all big`n`mean with some poncy name like William now can I?"
Spike grinned, then frowned. Had he just told her his real name? Oh well. He should probably kill her. Later. Maybe.
She had finished her beer and seemed to have decided that it was time to cut to the chase.
"So, you wanna go to my place? Fifty bucks."
Spike quirked an eyebrow at that.
"Love, let me ask you something. How old exactly are you?"
Cleo flinched a little but pulled herself together.
"Old enough for whatever you want to do with me."
He smirked.
"I doubt it. `Sides, me, I`ve got me a girlfriend. Real pretty, she is. My beautiful princess."
Spike sighed, thinking about Drusilla`s long, dark curls and marble-cool skin, and her long legs, and her dark eyes, shining, shining like black pearls...
"So why are you here?"
Cleo`s voice broke the spell and Spike returned to reality. Squinting, he looked at her.
"Huh?"
"I mean why are you here, in this bar, drinking yourself into stupor instead of being with her?"
Spike seriously thought about killing her. Snapping her neck or, better yet, torturing her for hours before killing her. Come to think of that, why was he sitting here and actually *talking* to her instead of doing just that?
Oh right. He was drunk and wanted somebody to just talk to, even if it was an underage junkie hooker. Bugger. Well, the Hell with it. He might as well tell her the truth.
"Because, pet, my princess is a tough person to be around sometimes. Of course, I love her still but sometimes I just need some time to myself. Like now. And I sound like some bloody poof, don`t I?"
Spike set the bottle down on the counter and turned to her with all of his body.
"But, enough about me. What`s your story, Cleo? What is a pretty little thing like you doing in a bar like this, going around and selling yourself to arseholed Brits?"
For a moment there was naked pain in her eyes but it was gone so quickly that Spike wasn`t even sure he had seen it. Her chin went up, and in a voice that dripped sarcasm she said:
"Well that`s none of your business, is it? I`m offering you a deal. Take it or leave it. I can find someone else."
Spike laughed hard at that, lifting the bottle again.
"Nah kid. If you could, you wouldn`t be sitting here. Tell you what - you spill why you chose me of all the sorry drunken bastards with nice juicy wallets around here and I`ll think about your...offer."
Cleo gritted her teeth but they both knew she was at a dead-end. There weren`t any drunken bastards with juicy wallets here. From the looks of her she was under threat of serious withdrawal from whatever it was she was taking soon. She needed cash badly.
"Because you look like anything but a cop. Because you seem to have piles of bucks. And because you look drunk enough to sleep with me."
Hmm. A junkie underage hooker with a low self-esteem. Kids these days.
"Don`t you have to be at school or something? What is it with children actually? In my days teenage rebellion meant not doing one`s homework. Now it`s drugs and running away and everything. Aren`t your parents worried about your `profession`?" Spike asked in a voice that dripped with sarcasm.
Cleo suddenly looked furious.
"What are we, on a date here? Exchanging life stories? Well, get this - I don`t have any parents, and even when I did, they didn`t give a shit about where I was or what I did as long as I wasn`t in their way. I have no family and no friends. Nobody cares what I do. So don`t you dare lecture me about teenage rebellion. If there was anything else I could do, I would, believe me. Do you think I like this? It`s simply that I have no choice. I can`t even do *that* properly."
With the last sentence her anger faded and she just looked very tired and sad.
Spike didn`t say anything for a while. There was something strange going on in his alcohol-soaked brain. Something very much like...compassion. Which was bloody impossible seeing as he hadn`t felt that ever since his death. And even if he did, how the Hell would he even recognize it?
And still he couldn`t help feeling somewhat bad about the girl he`d named Cleo. This kid had absolutely no one. Even vampires weren`t that lonely. They always had a mate or minions. Spike had never met a lone vampire.
Everything clicked into place, and he suddenly sat up straight, completely sober and sure of what to do.
Spike took out his wallet (well, not actually his, it had belonged to his dinner, but that didn`t matter now) and paid. Then he tossed the wallet with all the remaining money to the girl.
"Here, take it. Should last you a couple of weeks."
He hopped off the bar-chair, turned to go, but looked back over his shoulder and said:
"Oh, and this drug thing? Won`t get you anywhere. Even drunk and very horny guys aren`t big on needle marks. Drop it."
Spike walked out of the bar leaving the shocked Cleo behind. He strolled down the street grinning. The little junkie had helped him understand something very important.
Dru was insane. She was sick and weak, and dependent, and reckless, and annoying. But she was his. She loved him, he was sure of that. And if Spike should die, she would scream and cry, and wreak bloody vengeance upon the poor sod that had happened to be stupid enough to kill her lover.
Dru would miss him and because of that, all her flaws were irrelevant.
Spike started to whistle a little tune. Now he was sure that everything was like it was supposed to be between him and Dru.
Remembering the girl, he shrugged. He had done as much as he could for her without actually getting generous or soft or what else in the process. And he doubted that she would follow his advice. Drug addicts usually never do.
Well, it wasn`t his concern. His concern was Dru and making her strong again. Perhaps they should go to California. He`d heard of a Hellmouth there. Maybe its energy would help Dru.
Making plans in his head, Spike hurried home.
Drusilla must miss him already.
***
She sat staring at the wallet. What was *up* with that guy? He had seemed too drunk to even do anything, and she had hoped to steal his wallet while making out and then bail. Instead he had started talking and somewhere in the middle of it all she spilled things about her life that she hadn`t told anyone.
Well, she didn`t have anyone to tell to, but that wasn`t the case, was it?
The wallet was full to the core. There was probably enough money to buy stuff for a month, or buy food for three months. Tough choice.
She looked at her hand. He was right, needle marks were very visible. And she already wanted more, God, she wanted more...
There was a clinic near her place. They had a charity program for rehabilitating drug addicts, and they never turned people down.
Maybe she should...
***
The girl stood outside the clinic and stared at the big glass door. It was hard to decide. But...that guy was right.
She lifted her arm to push the door open but felt someone tapping on her shoulder. She turned around and saw an older woman, dressed in tweed and carrying a suitcase.
"Faith. Your neighbor said you were here. I`ve come to tell you something very important. You have the potential to become a Slayer."
There was only one thought in her head.
Huh?
The End
Author`s Note: I assume that Faith recognised Spike in `Who Are You` but decided to tease him.