Cherries
By Javawolf
Author's Note: I was asked about my little 'Ducky' joke, and I just wanted to say that that's all it is. A very bad joke. Spike called Dean a 'clever duck,' and it seemed appropriate that he be given an annoyingly humorous nickname.
Also, although I realize how much some of you would like Spike to kill Dean, there are many reasons that just can't happen. I will however, allow Spike to pummel him, how's that? (Grin)
"I'm on to you now." He sneered with a look of pure loathing. "I guess now I get to do some beating up on your sorry ass, huh? Make you think twice before hitting me." He laughed, a strangely sinister and bone chilling laugh for someone of his stature.
Spike buried whatever urge he felt to tear the little man limb from limb, and simply laughed back, much to the smaller man's irritation.
"What are you laughing at?" Dean growled. Spike shook his head somberly.
"Hello? I'm a vampire, you git."
Dean blinked, and in the next instant he was cowering on the cabin floor, looking up at his white-haired assailant, blood gushing from his nose. The sudden scent washed over Spike, but he choose to obey certain rules and not kill the pipsqueak right then and there. Instead he reached a hand out and offered in to Dean in a truce.
Dean stared in shock.
Well, that was the primary reaction. Very soon after he was on his feet and charging a second time. Only with this effort, he had to his advantage a new surge of rage and adrenaline. Still, even compared to an exhausted and somewhat disheveled vampire, Dean was only human; and a drunk one at that. His attack was quickly and easily countered and he was shoved down onto his cot. Spike couldn't help but laugh again at him.
"What the bugger are you trying to do? Why the sudden kamikaze, Ducky?"
Dean wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve and glared up at the vampire. "Well I was trying to kill you." He stated with bravado as he lifted himself slowly from the cot, rolled his neck until it snapped, and threw another punch. Spike reacted quickly by grabbing the bloody fist and returning with a forceful blow to Dean's jaw, nearly knocking him down.
"What do you want to do that for?" He asked casually, as though nothing had happened.
Dean stumbled back and stared at him incredulously. "Are you serious?" He coughed, swinging another fist in a pathetic attempt to win this ridiculous fight. He doubled over with pain as Spike's foot connected with his lower ribs.
"What? Are you some sort of masochist?" Spike asked curiously while he watched Dean on his knees, struggling for air.
"No, I'm just pissed off." He gasped. Spike approached him a second time, worried he may actually have broken one of Dean's ribs, when the little bugger finally got one on him. Just when Spike was offering his hand again to help, Dean threw all his weight into a low, spinning kick. Spike's feet were knocked out from under him and Dean stood over the vampire with a triumphant smirk.
"You little wipe!" Spike shouted, jumping back to his feet. Dean stared.
"That was cool." He stated dumbly, indicating the way Spike had leaped up from a spread-eagle position. Spike nodded.
"Yeah? Thanks." He flashed the man a brief smile before punching him in the face for the third time. Dean staggered backwards, caught off guard. He somewhat recovered himself, barely able to stand as he wiped his nose again on his jacket. (Which by this point was turning a nasty shade of red.)
"You don't give up, do you?" Spike chuckled at him. Dean merely scowled at him, spitting a mouthful of blood in his direction. Spike wasn't able to dodge the missile, and groaned loudly, wiping the substance off his coat. "Euugh... That's disgusting..."
Dean was readying himself for another attack when there was a soft knock on the door. He sighed loudly, and went to answer it.
Ivy, the poor girl, was greeted by this bloody mess of a man as the door swung slowly open. Spike grinned at her past Dean's shoulder and she hesitantly smiled back, continuing to glance uncertainly at Dean, who attempted what he probably thought was a friendly smile, and succeeded in making the child cringe.
"Ivy, luv." Spike said as sweetly as he could. "Close that door for just a minute, and I'll be right out."
"The hell you will!" Dean shouted, causing the girl to jump. "I'm not letting any damned vampire near a little girl!"
"Ivy, shut the door!" Spike shouted as Dean approached him.
The girl nodded, a frightened look on her face, and quickly shut the door, leaning against it to catch her breath. She couldn't decide if she wanted to wait like Mr. Spike said, or if she should run for dear life and hide under her bed.
Did that bloody, mean man say–
... Vampire?
Inside the cabin, Dean was ranting about good versus evil, and missions and other squabble that Spike had heard on countless occasions from people just like him. Except most of them were afraid at the time, and that's what caused them to babble endlessly; probably in an attempt to prolong their life by distracting the person they saw as the enemy.
But this man... He wasn't afraid. On the contrary, he was furious. He stood there, shouting curses and bleeding all over everything, and for what? Spike wasn't listening to the speech, by now he had it memorized. No, he was just watching. Dean reminded him of someone.
Angel.
Except Angel wasn't generally this unstable. Dean was quite obviously drunk off his ass. But he possessed the familiar drive that Angel was rather known for. Better known to their enemies as the, 'mash first, ask questions when it's most convenient' policy.
Still, Angel wasn't human. A vampire, cursed with a soul, forced to do good in order to achieve redemption. This man... Barely 21 years old... What was he fighting for?
While Spike felt pity for the bleeding mess before him, he didn't have time to get into the whole soap-opera deal. He was forced to interrupt Dean's stirring speech.
"Look, Ducky–"
"God! Quit calling me that, it makes me sound like a male prostitute." He growled.
Spike glanced over the man's figure and was forced to shake the unclean thoughts out of his head, disgusted that he even admitted to thinking them.
"Uh...okay. Look, er, Dean."
"I'm looking, I'm looking." Came the aggravated grumble of a reply.
"Yeah, alright whatever. Er, thing of it is; I'm not evil, okay? And I can't explain it to you right now because I've got a terrified little girl waiting for me in the hall, and just so we're absolutely clear; I don't like you."
Dean scowled. Spike ignored him and continued speaking.
"I really don't, and I don't trust you as far as I can throw you... Although thanks to you, with my lack of sleep I shouldn't be throwing anybody... Which is not the point. Uh...we're was I mate, do you remember?"
Dean blinked. "Oh. Uh, yeah...you don't trust me."
"Right, thank you." Spike straightened up. "No, I don't!"
Dean nodded lazily. "I get that from a lot of people, you know? I mean, do I turn people off?"
Spike stared at him in utter disbelief. "You are a very difficult person to have a conversation with." Like someone else I know?
"Ugh...no." Spike sighed. "My point is, that I'm about to go talk to Ivy–" Dean narrowed his eyes just a little.
"Who, now?"
"Oh. The little girl. In the hall?"
"Oh, right." Then Dean snarled and squared his shoulders. "Oh, hey! No you're not, I thought we went over this!"
"I wasn't listening. Would you shut up, please!"
Dean scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
Spike sighed. "Thank you. Now. I'm leaving this cabin–don't talk!" Dean closed his mouth quickly and silently. "I'm leaving to talk to my friend, and I can't leave you here, so I have to do what I have to do."
Dean looked at him quizzically. He wasn't ready, he wasn't prepared; so when Spike hit him in the face as hard as he could, Dean hadn't had time to raise a hand in his defense. More blood oozed from the corner of his mouth as he slumped to the floor and lay still.
"Sorry, mate. I'll buy you that drink once this is all sorted out... Not that you need it..."
Roughly ten minutes later, Spike emerged from the confines of the tiny cabin and greeted the trembling child with a gentle smile.
"Hello, luv." He said. "What is it?"
"I just came to tell you that my Papa–" Ivy took in a shuddering breath. "Papa says that I have to apologize for him. Cause he's too embarrassed."
"Oh, well that's good."
"Uh-huh. So he's sorry, and he said to give you this." Ivy pulled a piece of paper from her coat pocket. Spike took it from her and examined it. It was a coupon for a free meal in the ship's restaurant.
"Well, that's uh... very thoughtful of him. Tell him I said thank you."
"I will." Ivy nodded slowly and turned to leave. Spike frowned.
"Wait! Wait, hold on." He cooed. "What is it, crumpet? Is something wrong?"
"That man... " Ivy said hesitantly. "He called you a–a vampire."
Spike's face blanched. Ivy lowered her eyes. "So it's true?"
Spike didn't know what to say. "Yes." He finally managed, his voice breaking. "Yes, it's true."
Ivy bowed her head somberly. Then she asked, "What's a vampire?"
Spike was so relieved that he burst out laughing. Ivy, at a loss for what to do, laughed along with him. The two laughed side by side in the dark, dank hallways of the ship, clutching at their sides. After a moment to catch his breath, Spike answered the little girl's question.
"Do you know baseball, pet? The sport?"
"Yup." Ivy grinned.
"Well, a vampire is a person who stands behind the batter and makes sure that the rules are being followed. Like if the batter misses, the vampire says 'Strike!' Understand?"
Ivy's eyes widened. "Oooooh! That's a vampire. I know who that is, one of my cousins is a vampire!"
An elderly woman passing by gave the girl a look. Ivy blushed and turned away to giggle into Spike's sleeve.
"I don't think she knows what a vampire is." Ivy whispered with a smile. "She doesn't know, but I do."
Spike smiled at her. "Hey can I look at your watch?"
"Oh, sure." Ivy beamed. She extended her arm so Spike could see the pink wrist band, the clock's face was in the shape of a ladybug. "If you push this button, it plays music. See?" She held her wrist in Spike's face and pushed the tiny pink button. In an extremely high pitch, the familiar tune of 'Mary had a Little Lamb' rang from the watch. Spike smiled to Ivy.
"That's nice, pet." He checked the time and sighed. 2:45
This was going to be a long day.
Ivy stirred, and made ready to leave. "I should go, Papa might be looking for me."
"Alright. Thanks for visiting me." Spike said. Ivy positively glowed from her brown curls to her high-heeled toes.
"You're welcome. Don't worry, I'll visit you again."
"Oh. Good, then."
"Bye." Ivy waved frantically before prancing down the hall and up the stairs to the deck.
Spike let his breath out. What could Angel be doing right now?
Hello. Allow me to take your cloak.
Waquin. Ackine nck (click) shun naconite.
"Whoa... Cake, Akoline Trio (click, click) pun kryptonite?"
Incorrect pronunciation.
"Damn it..."
Angel was probably fighting some exciting new demon or saving a sexy damsel. His life was full of fantasy and the constant adrenaline rush. Spike didn't understand why Angel was always so damn sulky, he had it made!
"Joaquin Phoenix's aching neck, (click) shiny acorn bites?"
Incorrect pronunciation.
"Oh, come on!"
Yep. He was cool. And Spike? Well...
He sighed again and walked back into the cabin he shared with Ducky the masochist.
Another day...
Review and I'll update next week. (Or try.) Promise.