Cherries
By Javawolf
Author's Note: Blaise returns! Yes, yes, yes. Next chapter. Right away.
"Ivy, who's this?" The older man eyed Spike with an immediate disliking. He didn't look like a sailor. One would have imagined the captain of a ship to be gruff, and hardy-looking. This man looked like what he was. A little girl's guardian. A loving grandfather. Spike understood at once why the man was retiring.
"I'm Spike, I'm sorry to just–"
"Well, Spike." The man answered with an obvious threat to his tone. "I'll ask you to kindly leave, and stay away from my grand-daughter."
"Papa!" Ivy gasped. "Don't be mean, Mr. Spike is my friend!"
"They all say that." He growled in return.
"Whoa, mate!" Spike raised his hands in defense. The old man glowered at that fact he hadn't gone yet. "I'm no angel–" Ivy notice her friend cringe, recovering quickly as though it didn't happen. "–but I'm no bloody pedophile!"
Ivy's Papa reddened with rage. "Don't you use that kind of careless language around my little girl! Leave!"
Spike chuckled. "Yeah all right ... easy, mate. I'm sorry, pet." He added at Ivy's teary gaze. The little girl held her chin up high, refusing to let anyone see how upset she was. She was a strong one. Through and through.
"Cheers." Spike said dryly as he opened the door, waving briefly to the man who looked as though he wanted nothing more than to strangle this rude intruder. The vampire gave one last look to Ivy, a look that begged her forgiveness, before leaving and letting her Papa slam the door shut behind him.
For a moment Spike stood there, seething, before starting down the dock at a quick pace, not knowing where he was going or why.
Jonathon sat there in the closet, absolutely miserable with himself. He had no clue what had possessed him to get on a boat to Europe. Lily was probably crying her little eyes out into mom's shirt, thinking him dead or something horrible like that. A wave of guilt, certainly not the last in a long line of waves, washed over him. Mom...this wasn't her fault. But he knew her. She would blame herself, and not marry that guy...Dick. Jonathon couldn't help but chuckle. He'd always thought that Dick had an especially fitting name.
Who cares if she chickened out of the marriage? Lily didn't need a father like that! Jonathon hadn't wanted him... The thought occurred to him suddenly, and wouldn't ease off.
He wanted to go home.
The door swung open suddenly, and Jonathon found himself in the shadow of a man in a dark coat. He didn't seem surprised to find a boy hiding in a closet, quite the opposite.
"Hey, you okay?"
Jonathon blinked.
"What?"
"Are you okay?" The man repeated slowly, making a face that said very clearly, 'don't-be-so-damned-stupid.'
"Uh..." Jonathon began to realize what an awkward situation he was in. "I guess so."
"Good, mind if I join you, then?" The man asked quickly, obviously feeling more than slightly embarrassed.
"Uh..."
"Oh thanks, mate." And with that the strange man sat down on the closet floor next to the boy and made sure to door was shut behind him.
"So." He said conversationally. "What's your big problem?"
Jonathon couldn't see a thing in the darkness, but could almost sense that the man with silently laughing at him.
"What do you want?" He said, feeling immediately that it was harsh. "What I mean is..." He tried again. "Why...how..."
"How'd I know you were squatting in a broom closet?" The man asked bluntly.
"Yeah." Jonathon sighed.
"Call it a sixth sense." Came a chuckle from the dark. Jonathon felt like he'd missed a joke, but laughed none the less.
"My mom's getting married." It came out in a rush before he could think it over. The man didn't respond so Jonathon continued. "To someone who... who doesn't like me."
"So you ran away." The man said knowingly. "Hoped the first ride to Far-Far-Away Land. Understandable. Don't feel guilty."
"How'd you–?"
"Kid, I can smell it." He replied, in all seriousness. "You shouldn't though."
"Huh?" Jonathon was all confused. Who was this guy?
"You shouldn't run, you shouldn't steal–"
Jonathon felt his muscles tense as his fingers tightened their grip on the purse he held in his hand.
"Oh, don't get me wrong, you seem like a nice bloke." The man continued at Jonathon's obvious discomfort. "Just... you should go home."
"I can't go home now, I'm on a friggin' boat to Europe!"
"Hey, me too there mate! As much as I'd like to go back..."
The man trailed off. Jonathon waited for him to continue, but he didn't seem like he was going to.
"Who are you?" He finally asked.
"The name's Spike." Jonathon somehow found the man's hand in the dark in took it in a friendly hand shake.
"Jonathon." He sat in silence for a moment, waiting to come up with the right thing to say, when a smile crept across his face.
"So...Spike." He said teasingly. "What's your big problem?"
Spike chuckled. "Are you going to get all touchy-feely, 'so how does that make you feel', on me?"
"No. I suck at that stuff, man. But you did it for me, so...what brings you to my humble closet?"
Spike considered his answer for a moment before saying softly, "I was in love..."