The overwhelming feeling of rage led Spike to walk through the dark, dead streets of Sunny Dale and into Willie's Place. As he pushed open the door and stood the demons in the bar one by one began to become silent with anticipation and dread. Spike relished it, this sort of acknowledgment was sometimes more gratifying than blood.
Willy was a small man made seemingly smaller by his cowardice. He was at the bar, wiping down a glass when he said, "Hey Spike, how ya doin' buddy? Can I offer you a drink?"
"Funny you should ask." He replied in a low, feral growl, "You got anything in demon?"
Those words acted like a gunshot would act at the start of a race. Chairs were urgently clattering to the floor as the inhabitants of the bar were on their feet with excitement and fear spurring them on. A demon at the bar, a vampire, black hair, leather jacket, total wannabe was the first to speak, "You can't take us all, why even bother. Go back to kissing the slayer's ass."
Yes! Those words were delightful to Spike as he moved with so much celerity that half of the bar didn't even see him close the distance between himself and the Vampire; he wrapped his fingers around the vampire's neck and lifted him up off the ground.
"You know, I'm starting to feel a little disrespected and it's irritating. I have the bad luck of becoming the guinea pig for some patsies and all of a sudden I'm the butt of some horrible bloody cosmic joke. Well I'm not laughing!" He closes his hand around the Vampire's neck until his fingers pierce flesh and the head pops off like a champaign cork; the body showers him in dust.
He turns to face the demonic audience and smiles a taunting smile, "Anyone got a drink?" Then he jumped into his fray.
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Giles was sitting at his table, reading over a book about mythological artifacts when Xander spoke up from the phone, excited,
"Hey! Hey, I think I got something!"
He looked on expectantly as Xander continued,
"Anya said she met a demon once, obsessed with stories and the like." He put his ear back to the phone, "Says he was like a total geek. She says I remind her of hi- HEY! That is so totally not cool! You have a passing knowledge of comic books and the- ok, yeah, maybe I do have a little more than passing - right, ok, you can stop now! Demon guy, mortal danger, chop chop! Says she tried to curse him once; that he killed one of the husbands of her patrons. She said it didn't work."
Giles spoke, "How long ago was this Xander?"
"Anya, how long ago was this? Oh, really? You know, it's easy to forget just how old yo-...she hung up. Well that's just rude." He put the phone back on the receiver, "So that helps, huh? I helped? How awesome is that? Hey Willow, I was useful."
She was reading a book in the chair Xander had placed her in, "That's surprising hun. Would you call and check up on Tara for me, see how they're faring?"
"Sure can do. You know, we should get you a nickname Willow, you being super witch and all. How about Wicca Woman? Or, the wonderful wicca wrestler...woman. Something with a lot of w's."
"Xander, focus. Call Tara." Giles mildly scolded but he could see what Xander was doing; he was trying to keep a connection paved between him and his friend when the road between their hearts was rapidly being closed off. It was admirable and very, very sad.
"Yeah alright. What about you Big W, any luck on the ancient artifacts?"
"Well a few. There's this artifact of-"
"Let me stop you there. These artifacts always have some random, ancient sounding name that means nothing to me. So don't even bother, it won't stick. Get to the cream filling would ya?"
"Oh bugger off."
Xander shrugged and picked up the phone to start dialing as Giles bent his head back to the book. Willow, on the other hand, had started staring out the window and into the night,
"I wonder where Buffy is?"
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Spike lifted his head to take a breath, green blood dripping from his protruding fangs. The ex-demon hulk he was on top of was the donator of that blood. He stood up and took stock of the bar that was now full of ex-patrons, he felt satisfied enough where even the humiliation of the night was a distant thought.
"Spike?" Willy asked, afraid.
Spike stood up and strode confidently out of the bar, pausing only once to phantom lunge at Willy, causing him to cower back, quaking with fear.
"Yeah, whose bad."
