Trick For Your Treats: A Maypole Dance Around Spike
October 31st, 1997
Part 4: Big Picture Man
4 hours later:
Door:Ding'a'Ling'Ling
Ethan Rayne: Hello! I'm in the back! I'll be with you in a moment!
Spike: Right. A warlock who does his own shopkeepin'. Go figure.
Ethan Rayne prides himself on being a Big Picture Man. He is a visionary whose sweeping concepts of mystical grandeur are the equivalent of Epiphany. His is a special sort of genius. Divine. He is an artist, and magic is his art.
Ethan takes pride in the technical side of his art. For instance, the consignment of costumes that he'd acquired was top-notch. Many were leftovers from theatrical productions, and all were enchanted with his special brand of mojo, a task that has left the warlock knackered and grumpy.
Unfortunately, a focus on the Big Picture tends to lead Ethan into trouble. Sometimes, he has so much of his attention focused on the overall plan that minor problems develop at the implementation level. For instance, in the ideal world Ethan would've hired a shopkeeper to move his wares. Someone with a strong customer service orientation.
Ethan really couldn't stand customers, but he supposed he'd have to deal with the bloody idiots if his grand plan was to come to be realized. Burdens to be borne... With that in mind, he stopped fussing with the costume he'd been about to enchant, and set it down.
"You the proprietor of this establishment?" The male voice coming from behind Rayne is English, the accent a rough and tumble mixture of high and low born regional influences. Ethan's acute ear immediately discerns that the speaker is a pretender, a highborn individual attempting to affect a coarser demeanor.
Ethan huffed in disdain, already full of scorn for the faux individual. "That would be I. How can I-" Ethan's sentence cut short, ending in a strangled "Guh!" as he was spun and his shirt front bunched in iron fists. The startled warlock stared terrified and astonished into the game face of a vampire as his back slammed into the wall.
"Ethan Rayne, right?"
The demon is an exceptional specimen: pale flesh, chiseled features, defined musculature. He's beautiful, really, extraordinarily so. However, in many ways he is typical of his kind. The vampire's mouth is just inches from the warlock's face. From his up close n' personal perspective, Ethan can count each and every one of those fangy aspects.
Those teeth are gleaming white, and Ethan wonders absently if the vampire uses a whitener.
"You deaf?" The vampire shakes Ethan once. Hard.
"I am indeed Ethan Rayne, though, I'm afraid that I'm ignorant of your name. How can I help you?" Ethan asked with an ingratiating smile. He put on a customer service friendly smile, behaving as if there were nothing untoward about a vampire entering his shop and assaulting him.
Inwardly, the warlock is cursing his lack of foresight. For fuck's sake, this is the Hellmouth! Why didn't he thing to erect a protection barrier? A simple ward versus undead would have kept this vampire out. Again, he'd been too caught up in the Big Picture to think of the little things.
"Good. You and I are gonna do a bit of business." Abruptly, the vampire set Ethan on his feet. The warlock watched, astonished at not having his throat forcibly removed, as the vampire shifted to his human countenance.
"We are?" The vampire's steely stare caused Ethan to swallow convulsively. This blonde Dionysus had given Ethan an erotic, edgy scare that had him in a state of semi-arousal.
Clearly, the vampire could smell it, because he sniffed and sneered.
"We are." The vampire withdrew a bundle from within his duster, a leather thing that looked like it'd been used as a saddle blanket for Wild Bill Hitchcock. The vampire thrust the package at Ethan who caught it automatically.
"What's this?" Ethan inspected the bundle, answering his own question. Two drum sticks and a T-shirt bearing the logo of an American rock band. "Err…" Ethan stared at the vampire, suddenly questioning the demon's sanity.
He had some space, and a pair of wooden sticks. Ethan's gaze flew to the vampire's chest. "Don't even think about it," the vampire warned. From his pocket he produced a metal object. It took Ethan a split second to identify it as a railroad spike, which was suddenly aimed at his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed convulsively as the cold tip touched his flesh. "Be smart, do as I say, and you'll come outta this alive. Understand?"
Ethan nodded once. The demon's gaze had locked onto the warlock's throat, in which salvia had accumulated. Ethan furiously suppressed the urge to swallow in spite of his desert dry mouth, so as to not attract further attention.
"Here's how this is gonna play out," the vampire said. "We're gonna head up front to the cash register, and you're gonna sell me that costume. If this doesn't play out the way I envision – if I turn into anything other what I've chosen – if you so much as scratch your balls without my permission, then I'll cut you up into itty bitty pieces and sent your parts gift wrapped care of one Rupert Giles. Got it?"
"Got it," Ethan agreed, hearting leaping into his throat at the sound of his old mate's name. Ah, his long lost love…
"And if you're thinking that you can put one over on me and not turn me back, then think again," the vampire continued. "Ever heard of Spike?"
Ethan thought hard, but drew a real blank. "Spike, hum, Spike, er, no, sorry-"
"William the Bloody?"
"Erm, no, sorry."
"Are you sure? Spike? Think hard. I killed two slayers in my time."
"No, doesn't ring any bells, though I do know quite a bit about DracuLUG! GUH! OW! No, no Drac! Never mind! I know nothing!"
"Well, then what about Angelus?" The blonde vampire sounded rueful and embarrassed.
"No, sorry, doesn't ring any bells."
"Drusilla?"
"Oh, wait!" A light went on, and Ethan snapped his fingers. "I met her once in London many years ago! Such an exquisite creature! Why we-"
His face impacting the counter prevented Ethan from relating the tryst he'd shared with the vampiress. "Guh!"
"Good, then you've heard of us. Angel, Dru, n' I we're a family, got that? We look out for one another n' Angel's not one you wanna mess with. Teetering on the verge of insanity, if you take my meaning."
"Er, no, really, I don't," Ethan mumbled. Drusilla had been crazier than a bag of hammers, but he has no idea what this Angel's sanity has to do with Spike's attempts to make a threat. "Why don't you explain it to me?"
Aggravated, Spike growled and shook Ethan. "If something happens to me, if I never recover from this transformation spell, then I'll be avenged. Clear?"
"I assure you that the spell doesn't work that way," Ethan rushed to explain. How the bloody hell had the vampire found out what he had planned? No one, but no one, was privy to the Grand Plan! "Everyone will be transformed at the same time. And once it's over, then everyone will change back to who, er, and what they were. I have no control over individual transformations."
"Neat. Ring me up." The railroad spike disappeared into the vampire's pocket.
"I'll need to uhhh… Bless the costume first."
"Make it quick." Spike motioned impatiently with his hands, and Ethan performed a hasty hex, cursing the clothing so that his transformation spell would affect these items. He seriously considered throwing some other sort of curse into the mix – for a split second – and then thought better of it.
Ethan needed to think of the Big Picture. If it just so happened that a vampire wanted to spend the evening as something other than what he was, then it was no concern of Rayne's. He wasn't willing to risk The Big Picture, not to mention his life, which he happened to value rather highly, on a brassed off vampire.
Ripper would be enough of a handful as it was.
"I'll ring you up now." Moving to the cash register, Ethan randomly pushed some numbers and then hit 'Sale'. "That'll be $17.87."
The vampire dug into his pockets and produced a single bill and some change. "Only got a tenner and fifteen cents." Spike looked at Ethan like he was contemplating homicide again.
Ethan hastily cleared the sale and rang in some new numbers. "Terribly sorry, I forgot that this item is fifty percent off. That'll be $8.94."
Spike gave a nod and grunt of satisfaction, and offered up the tenner. Currency changed hands, and the vampire departed with his costume.
And change.
"Bloody crazy vampires." Ethan wiped his brow with a handkerchief, and then got back to work. He had a lot left to do, and not much time.
End Part 4.