Chapter One
'Aucune Aide'
Maach stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, waiting for the sounds of fighting to subside. When it sounded like the scuffle had died down, he cautiously opened the back door of the pub and stuck his head inside. After a moment of glancing around, he saw Spike at the other end of the bar in full game face, starring down a larger demon who was holding a broken bottle in his hand. Spike looked more pissed off than angry.
"It's come to our attention Spike, that you've been battling it out with the demon community as of late. The boys say you're in league with the Wolf, Ram and Hart," the large demon grunted between sharpened teeth. He squeezed the neck of a bottle a little tighter and nodded to someone across the bar. Spike snarled as he sensed that someone step forward.
"Haven't the foggiest what you mean, mate." Spike said quietly, voice clenched between a mouth of fangs. The big demon laughed, lifting the bottle.
"Bad bit of business they run," he said, stepping forward. He let the bottle drop to his side and allowed his fingers to loosen. Spike didn't move as the larger man stepped forward. It was clear he wasn't going to give up any ground if he could help it. "Even we don't tangle with them."
"This little sermon got a point?" Spike asked, impatiently, flashing a bit of fang as the larger man puffed out his chest.
"Moral of the story," he snarled, reaching out and grabbing Spike by the scruff of the neck. Spike squirmed and snarled, trying to get purchase at the back of his neck. But the larger demon didn't give him half a chance. He reached back and slammed a fist into Spike's nose, smiling at the satisfying crunch it made.
Spike dropped like a stone.
"Next time, that wont be the only thing I break." the demon vowed, stepping over Spike's crumpled form and joining his other burly demon friends. He gave one last glance at the body on the floor before motioning toward the door.
When the last of the demons appeared to have scattered, Macch left his hiding place at the back door and quickly scrambled to kneel next to Spike. He used gentle hands to turn his friend over and examine the damage. Spike eyed him through a pool of blood and bruising. After a moment, Maach examined his friend's nose. It appeared to be in a few pieces.
"Shall I fix this here, or wait until we are back at your home?" he asked, gently touching the break at the bridge of Spike's nose. Spike sighed slightly and wiped his fingers across his left eye, clearing away the sticky mess there. Macch waited for him to sit up slightly before he expected an answer.
"Give us a hand." he said quietly, avoiding the question directly. Maach quickly stood and took Spike's hand in his own, helping him stand unsteadily on his feet. Once the room stopped spinning, Spike shook his head a little to clear the fog and nodded at his friend. Maach slipped an arm around Spike's back and aimed him toward the back door.
"Sometimes you do not realize that you have crossed a line." Maach said, glancing at Spike. He was smirking slightly, even through a mask of blood.
"Course I know when I've crossed a line," he chuckled, toeing the door open and stumbling into the alley. "Just not very good at stopping once I'm over it."
Continued...
