The Demon's Perspective
Author's Note: Only references to the Jossverse characters, otherwise the characters have been created by little old me.
Blake slammed down his shot glass down and glanced towards his partner. Earl was pissed - as per usual - and was telling anyone who would listen about his great accomplishments. Blake snorted, rolling his eyes as Earl leered at a female vampire.
They had returned to LA three nights before and had been celebrating their return by doing a circuit of the demon clubs. Which included Earl chatting up anything in a skirt, well, anything in pants too, so long as it had breasts.
"… Oh yeah," Earl nodded. "1982, it was."
Blake groaned. That was Earl's trump card. Blake stood up from his stool and wandered toward the end of the bar, leaning against the grimy bar top to gauge the reaction of Earl's audience.
"What happened?" asked a female vampire, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly.
Blake rolled his eyes again. He had no idea what the women saw in Earl. He was a pretty boy. Floppy blonde hair, brown eyes, lean figure, a taste for torture. Blake himself didn't know how he put up with him.
They had been friends when they were alive and were on shore leave from the navy during the war when they were turned by two female vamps. When their fickle Sires abandoned them, Blake and Earl stuck together. Blake still didn't know why. But he supposed they made a good team.
They had travelled around, arriving in America in the 70s. They spent the first half of the 80s in LA, before moving onto New York. They returned to LA in 1998 and had been there ever since. Well, unless you count the fact they left for a few weeks when Jasmine started making with the joy. After being hugged by the fifth complete stranger for no reason, Blake decided it was time to get the hell outta Dodge.
"What happened?" Earl asked, blinking a little in disbelief. "Oh, I can see you've not been doing your homework, sweetheart. When were you turned, eh?"
"1997," she replied coyly. "In West Virginia. I suppose you're - what? A century?"
Blake quirked an eyebrow, wondering how Earl would answer that one. Earl lowered his eyes, toyed with his glass, before looking up and grinning.
"I was turned in 1940," he said. "But I learnt quick. I know the same stuff a vampire of a hundred years knows. You wanna hear the story or not?"
"Sure," she shrugged.
"'82, right," Earl started. "That year, a Slayer was called. You do know what a Slayer is, honey?" she nodded and Earl went on. "I found her. Right here in this very town. Took her on and - well, who's here now?"
"You killed a Slayer?" she breathed.
"You said it - what'd you say your name was?"
"Laurie," she said, with enough sugary sweetness to make Blake wince.
"Pretty name. Bit like you, eh?" Earl smirked. "You know, you look like her. She had dark hair and big blue eyes. Tough little thing. But not tough enough."
Blake snorted with laughter and Earl and his female companion glanced back at him. Earl shot his partner a glare as the girl frowned.
"What's so funny, B?" Earl asked.
"She'd only been called a month before you killed her," Blake pointed out. "And I use the word 'killed' very loosely."
"What?" Earl demanded. "You telling me I didn't kill her?"
"You were fighting her on a roof, Earl," Blake told him. "I was there, remember? She fell off the roof."
"So?"
"So you didn't kill her. The stupid bitch died by accident."
"That was part of the plan! I drove her to the edge!" Earl protested. "I made sure she got to the edge, then one swing and splat!" he slapped his hands together. "Tomato ketchup! They were scraping her up for days afterward, had to cordon off the area."
"Yeah, but it's not the same as snapping her neck or draining her, is it, Earl, buddy?"
"Maybe, but I don't remember you ever killing a Slayer," Earl said, accusation in his voice.
"I know," Blake shrugged. "But it doesn't have the same meaning anymore."
"What d'ya mean?"
"I mean that crazy bitch in Sunnydale did some mojo and now every Potential Slayer is a Slayer. At some point, a vampire's gonna choose a nice, fresh little teen and she'll be a Slayer. They'll be dropping like flies if they ain't trained. Doesn't mean anything. Killing a Slayer's not a big deal anymore."
"You're just bitter!" Earl accused. "You wish you coulda killed a Slayer. Anyway, that's not possible. You can't have more than one Slayer."
"I thought there was two?" Laurie asked. "And one of them was in jail?"
"Well, yeah," Earl shrugged. "But that's a fluke. You don't have bloody thousands. And how the hell did you hear this anyway, Blake?"
"Put it this way, pal, Alexander Graham Bell may have invented the telephone, but us demons invented the grapevine."
"So how come I ain't heard nothin'?"
"'Cause I'm the one with my ear to the ground. You're the one with your finger -"
"On the pulse?"
"I was gonna say up your arse, but whatever. The point is, there's not two Slayer's anymore."
"Doesn't make any difference to me," Earl replied. "I'm gonna kill me another Slayer. I thought about that one in Sunnydale, but what's the point if she's just gonna come back to life again?"
"Again?" Laurie asked.
"Apparently she did it twice. See, I do my homework. No, I've got my heart set on that one in jail."
"She's out, man."
"Huh?"
"She's out. Heard one of Angel's guys broke her out when he was Angelus."
"Damn. That was a sad time, man. Bad guy like Angelus getting turned back to the good again. He was a great guy."
"You met him?" Laurie gasped, awed - as far as Blake could tell - by the very utterance of Angelus's name.
"Bought the guy a drink!" Earl declared. "Granted, he smashed it in my face, but at least he didn't stake me with a pool cue. Hey, wait," he turned his attention from Laurie to Blake again. "How come that woman from the crazy shit law firm didn't let me know she was outta jail? I thought we had an understanding after we killed that demon for her damned company?"
"Jeez, Earl, you gotta get your head outta the bottle and start listening. Wolfram and Hart aren't evil anymore."
"What? Some interfering bastard gave them a soul too?"
"You could say that. Remember the big happy with that Jasmine woman?"
"Yeah. Man, she gave me the creeps. We got outta town."
"Me too," Laurie nodded. "It was… weird. I only got back tonight."
"We got back last week," Blake told her. "I heard that Angel and his little gang stopped her."
"Huh," Earl snorted. "You think Angel would love the joys and happies that woman was offering."
"Who knows? Anyway, because they ended world peace, Wolfram and Hart gave 'em the company."
"You're serious? Angel has funding? Shit. Like he wasn't a big enough pain in the ass before. We gotta find us a new town, Blake."
"Thought you wanted this town?"
"Not if Angel's got a bloody law firm. An evil law firm. That's wrong, man. We don't work with law firms."
"Don't be a prat, Earl," Blake snapped. "We helped out Wolfram and Hart, remember?"
"Yeah, but that was for payment. That was for evil. You don't use a law firm to do good, even the damned humans don't use law firms for good."
"Well, justice…" Laurie offered meekly.
"Justice!" Earl mocked. "Wait 'til you're my age, darlin'. See if you believe in justice then. No such thing, the only justice in this town is the type we deal," he ran a finger along her jaw and down her neck. "Life… or death."
She tittered prettily and Blake turned away to wave at the bartender for a new bottle of whiskey. He leaned on the counter, swirling his whiskey as he ignored Earl and his next lay.
Blake wondered if coming back to LA was wise.
With Angel heading a company like Wolfram and Hart, it was hardly the best place for two enterprising vampires like himself and Earl - well, himself anyway. He and Earl had had dealings with Wolfram and Hart before and he didn't fancy running into this new kind of Wolfram and Hart with Angel at the helm. It was enough to make him shudder. Angelus, he
could just about take - though, unlike Earl, he knew his limits and made no attempt to approach Angelus when he strolled into their favourite bar one night - but Angel was another matter. Plus there was the fact that Angel would probably take it upon himself to find all the latest Slayers and train them. That would make living in LA harder than usual.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and spun sharply, arm raised ready to fight. Earl sneered and grabbed his fist, forcing it back down to the counter.
"Damn, Blake," he muttered.
"I knew you were quick," Blake answered. "But, Jesus, Earl, you're like a teenage boy! You gotta learn to keep a lid on it!"
"What?" Earl frowned, then glared. "Shut up. I didn't screw her. Her friend came along and they went off to hunt. Didn't fancy it, y'know I can't stand having to hunt with girls."
"Because you get the offer so often," Blake snorted.
"Ah, shut up, man," Earl answered, sitting down beside his friend. "So… was all that crap about loads of Slayers and Angel taking over Wolfram and Hart true, or were you trying to bed my hottie?"
"Yeah, because my chat up lines consist of Slayers and Angel. Nah, Earl, it's all true. If you didn't spend so much of the time drunk, high or blind to everything around you but women, you'd've heard it too."
"Shit," Earl breathed. "So not only will LA be overrun with Slayers, but Angel's gonna be more of a nuisance. Fuck, Blake, why'd we come back to LA?"
"I was thinking the same myself, man," Blake shrugged, pushing the whiskey bottle toward Earl.
They sat in a depressed silence for a minute, before Earl grinned and grabbed his partner's arm.
"How about we go to San Francisco, man?"
Blake turned to face Earl's manic grin and found himself answering it with one of his own. He grabbed the whiskey bottle and stood up from the chair, dragging Earl after him.
"Where we going, Blake?" Earl asked, taking a gulp from the bottle as they stumbled onto the street, ignoring the angry yells of the barkeep.
"San Francisco, Earl. Fucking hell, we're really gonna have to get you to some goddamn AA meetings."
The End.
