Chapter 2: The Demon Bar
Spike walked all night, along a deserted freeway, thanks to the fact that Clem 'borrowed' his car, and to the demon that he lost his motorcycle to in Kitten Poker.
The sun was close to rising, and as Spike passed what looked like some sort of diner he decided to take refuge there.
He opened the door to the diner, and walked inside. "This is not a diner," he first said as he looked around at his surroundings. The diner was actually a demon bar, with a dozen or so demons gathered at one very large table, and seven vampires at the counter, staying clear of the demons. The place smelled like beer and with his keen vampire sense of smell, heavily perfumed with blood. Cigar smoke filled up the place, making him cough loudly. The demons at the table turned around to take a good look at Spike, and when Spike noticed this, he just waved them off and made his way to join the other vampires at the counter.
The demons grunted and turned back around, focusing on their cards, and seven, tiny kittens in a small basket set on the middle of the table, meowing and climbing all over each other.
The bartender was a vampire, and was chatting with his buddies when Spike walked up and sat down on the stool.
"Trouble?" The bartender asked him curiously.
Spike nodded. "Yeah. Been walking all night."
"Oh," the bartender replied, "because it just looks like you got into a fight." The bartender motioned to the various bruises on Spike's face, and the cross mark on his left cheek.
"Yeah, I have. Don't want to talk about it, though," he added when the bartender opened his mouth to speak.
"Actually, I was going to ask you what you wanted. A vampire like you," he laughed, "needs some blood."
Spike sighed, took out some money, and laid it on the counter. "Anything you got, give me it."
The bartender crouched behind the counter and pulled out some blood in a jar. When he straightened up, Spike was giving him a wary look.
"Blood? In a jar?"
"It's a thing," the bartender replied sharply. "My name's Bill."
Spike grinned. "Okay, Bill, tell me, got any of those in a cup? Or something clean?"
Bill just eyed him and poured some blood out in a cup, and handed it to Spike, who accepted it without any argument.
The vampires, two stools down, stared at him weirdly as he drank the blood. Spike noticed, put his cup down sharply and snapped, "What?"
The vampires reacted to this and returned to their discussion about high blood prices at bars.
"Oh, don't mind them," Bill said.
Spike, who was still eyeing the vampires, looked at Bill, and asked, "What?"
"I mean, it's not everyday that someone like you comes in here, a rebel vampire and all," Bill explained.
Spike, getting irritated by all the weird creatures and whatnot, asked again, "What do you mean?"
"You smell."
Spike, who was drinking his blood at the time, accidentally spit some out, put his glass down, and replied, "Okay, not usually the compliment I was looking for. I mean, sure, I haven't bathed in the last couple of days, but that's no reason for you to go and rag me off about how I smell and all—"
"What I meant was," Bill interrupted Spike, "that they smelled your soul. Once you walked in, I could even sense it. Us vampires, strong sense of smelling. And plus, we're not stupid."
"Yeah, okay, you found out, no need to throw a big surprise party, now that everybody knows, at least." Spike drained the last drop of blood from his glass, set it down, and moved it away from him. "Besides, what do you know about souls, old Billy boy?" Spike asked sarcastically.
Bill sighed and closed his eyes. "Because I have one."
Spike tried to keep a straight face, but he was laughing inside. "You…?" He burst out, laughing hard. "You have a soul?"
Bill opened his eyes and looked at Spike, who was pounding his fist on the counter, laughing. Bill grinned. "Yeah, sure, laugh now. Won't be so funny when you hear the story that comes along with it."
Spike stopped laughing, but even still thought that Bill having a soul was funny. "Okay, go on, tell me the story."
Bill took a deep breath, and began. "I was turned into a vampire around the 1800s. I didn't have any friends at my vampire stage, or my human stage, so I got used to it. Then I fell in love with the most beautiful girl on Earth. I loved her even before I got sired, but was too afraid to tell her, so I thought that since I was a vampire, I had courage. So, I walked up to her, and told her, then and there, that I loved her. She gasped, and started crying. She told me that she used to love me too, but then I went away, and she thought it was for good. She got married, while I was still in my own grave. I got mad. Angry at her for marrying someone else other than me.
"So one night, I broke apart. I just couldn't take it anymore. I wanted her, needed her, so I did the one thing that I wish I hadn't: killed her husband. I was there when she walked in, she saw her husband lying on the couch, dead, and she ran into the kitchen. Later I heard a piercing scream, followed by a loud thud. She killed herself…
"I was so angry with myself. I just wanted to die, but, being a vampire and all, I couldn't. So I did the next best thing: I got my soul back." He finished.
Wow, Spike thought, he did all this 'cause he loved a women. Spike had tears in his eyes, but he tried not to show them. "Nice story," he complimented.
Bill smiled. "Thank you."
Spike sighed, and stood up. "Well, sun's still up. Can't go out and play," he joked.
"You can stay here until night comes along. I have a few spare beds in the back, along with a couple of showers," Bill offered.
Spike nodded, and walked into the back room.
The back room was like a small closet, yet big enough to walk around in. He felt the wall besides him, and couldn't find a light switch. Spike sighed and then felt his way around the room, careful not to bump into anything.
"Hey, Bill, no light in here!" He shouted, then tripped, falling to the ground. "Ow, bloody—hey, what's this?" He grasped a flashlight, turned it on, and shined it to what caused him to trip. "Oh, God."
Spike hurried out of the back room and confronted Bill, a sick look on his face. "Okay," he said calmly, "I walk into the backroom, find that there's no light switch, then I trip over something, I find a flashlight, turn it on and do you know what I saw back there? A teenage girl. Dead. Now, what do you have to say to that, Bill?"
"I say," a demon walked up behind Spike, "that you get out of here before I tear your body to bits and pieces."
Spike turned around, face to face with the demon. "You talking to me, cause I wasn't listening."
The demon growled and raised his fist. "Oh, I suggest you revise that sentence…""Or what? Kill me?" Spike jokingly suggested.
"That'd be a good start…" the demon showed its razor sharp teeth, and raised his fist above his head, then—
Swish!
Spike went flying into the wall behind him. He shook his head. "Bugger," he whispered. "Goin' down in a fight. A demon fight, might I add." Spike got to his feet, shaking slightly. "Okay, see, getting' the first punch, that's not what usually happens when I get into a fight. When I get into a fight, I usually do it my way." He limped as he walked to the demon. "I usually do it like this…"
The demon raised his fist again, and was about to punch Spike when he caught the demon's fist, and kicked him in the shin.
"Ow!" The demon groaned in pain as Spike brought the demon's caught arm behind his back.
"Beg for mercy," Spike whispered to the whimpering demon. He hardly noticed one demon coming up behind him with a chair in tow.