Chapter Four – Itty Bitty Bits

Once Martha's sister was done with the magicks Spike needed, Martha sent two of the demons lounging around in her bar to fetch Spike's Harley so he could get on the road. Apparently, her ex was just a bit miffed when he found out that Martha was helping her would-be assassin instead of bleeding all over her desk, and he'd started tearing his bar apart board by board as he swore to kill her and Spike and any other vampire he came across.

Spike apologized to Martha for bringing her more trouble and she laughed, "You're not the first one he's sent after me, and you won't be the last, so don't worry about it. Besides, you wouldn't have been able to kill me, anyway. I'm warded. Two steps closer with that sword still raised and you'd have exploded into itty bitty vampire bits."

Spike dropped into the nearest chair like his strings had been cut. "Does he know you're warded and that I was basically goin' to my final death? 'Cause if he did, I'm goin' right back over there to tear him into itty bitty demon bits."

"No, he doesn't know." She winked. "More fun that way."

Spike's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "More fun? For who, exactly? The poor sods he sends to their deaths?"

Martha laughed. "No, they don't usually get close enough for the ward to kick in, it's just a last-ditch protection. You did notice how the will to kill me left you as soon as you'd seen my eyes, right?"

Spike thought that over as the bartender pressed a bottle of JD into his hand then scurried back behind the bar. "Yeah, guess it did." He smirked at her. "Some kind of thrall?"

She nodded. "Similar. It doesn't work exactly the same as a vampire thrall, but I'm able to convince most assassins that they really don't want to kill me, and the ones I can't convince…"

Spike took a long pull from the bottle and grinned. "Itty bitty bits. Right."

XXXX

After having a nice hot shower, Spike was sprawled in a chair at a table in front of the bar. "Ta for the wash up, pet. Feel a hundred times better." Martha looked over the bar at him, gently catching his gaze as her skin flushed purple, then she smiled when he suddenly started talking. He told her about Buffy and the creatures from the other dimension that were hunting her then blinked in astonishment and pointed a shaky finger in her direction. "Stop thrallin' me! You want to know somethin', just bloody ask!"

Martha shrugged as her skin faded back to pink. "Sorry… habit. When you find her, if you need a safe place to go, you're welcome to come back here. I'll put feelers out and see if anyone has seen your creatures, and if I find out anything, I'll call you."

She tossed a cell phone across the bar and Spike caught it, his eyebrow quirked as he tucked it into his jacket. "Not that I'm not grateful for all you've done for me, but… why? I don't know you and you've not asked for any kind of payment other than not killin' you and a sword that wasn't really mine to give…"

Martha looked around a bar that had quite a few more demons packed into it now that word had gotten out about a stranger in town – William the Bloody, Master Vampire from the Order of Aurelius. Apparently, his reputation had preceded him and most of the demons were looking at him in awe. This was the vampire who had fought for his soul and had burned to a cinder to save the world, then had come back and fought beside his grandsire to save it again, and was apparently on a mission to save it once more. Martha smiled at Spike. "I'm helping you because I know who you are and what you're capable of." She waved around at all the demons. "We're all peaceful and we like the world just the way it is, thank you very much, and if these creatures get their way, then…"

Spike nodded. "Right. So you've a vested interest in making sure that doesn't happen."

Martha smiled. "Right. And since you've already helped save the world…" She peered at Spike, locking her gaze with his as her skin flushed purple. "Three… no… four times already, you're a pretty sure bet to do it again."

Spike dazedly shook his head then glared at the tiny pink-again demon who was smirking at him from behind the bar. "You read minds as well?" She nodded and Spike snarled, "Stay the hell out of my head, woman! I'm bloody tired of everyone thinkin' they can just root 'round my cranium and start muckin' with my brain anytime they wish!"

Martha held up her hands in a placating gesture. "I meant no offense, Spike, and I didn't change anything, I can only see." At his fangy growl she hurried to continue, "I won't do it again and I promise not to thrall you anymore, either. I only want to help."

Spike nodded grudgingly and took a deep draw on the bottle of Jack clutched in his hand. "And I appreciate that, just leave my noggin alone."

XXXX

The bike roared noisily under his backside as he rocketed down the interstate. Traffic had been fairly thick when he'd left Denver but had thinned considerably by the time he'd reached the Wyoming state line. His belly was full of warm human blood with enough for another week stuffed into the saddle bags on the bike, he'd traded the too-small jeans and too-large t-shirt for ones that fit him properly, and he had a Slayer tracking charm tucked into his pocket. The tiny demon witch had also glamoured him and had even brewed him up a potion that would render him immune to sunlight for six hours. Denver had rapidly become one of his favorite places to be, brain mucking about aside, of course.

He pulled off the interstate into a small rest area to stretch his legs and have a smoke. He was close now, only another hour or so on two-lane blacktop and he'd roll into her town just before sunset, right about the time his sunlight potion would expire. He was kind of amazed at the good luck he'd been having recently… well, not including being held prisoner and the lame attempts at torture, or being crushed under a few thousand pounds of granite, although the earthquake had been mostly lucky, he supposed, but since then. Nothing really bad had happened to him since he'd crawled out from under the rubble. It seemed like anything he'd needed had practically fallen into his lap, sometimes literally, and he wondered if maybe the Powers had gotten off their useless arses this go round and were actually helping instead of just watching from the sidelines.

That idea had been making him just a bit nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it were, and he'd been a bit twitchy ever since he'd left Denver. He sighed as he dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot then started walking toward his bike. He'd never had a run of luck last this long in his entire unlife and he was hoping that when it finally came crashing to an end – which it inevitably would – that he'd still be in good enough shape to save the world… again.

He pulled the tracking charm from his pocket and held it in the palm of his hand, smiling as it vibrated slightly. The vibrations had been getting stronger the closer he got and, according to the witch, the charm would glow green when he was within twenty miles of her. It wasn't as accurate as a locator spell, but the green glow was supposed be brighter on whatever part of the charm was closest to the Slayer, so all he had to do was head in that direction. He pocketed the charm and continued toward the bike, rolling his shoulders to try to work out some of the stiffness.

He hadn't really paid much attention to the other occupants of the parking lot, and a derisive shout from a large man in a beat-up Chevy truck made him stop and roll his eyes skyward. There it was – the other shoe. Not that he didn't mind a good scrap, but he was sort of on a schedule here and really didn't have time to pound on the four wankers who were walking toward him with murderous intent.

They apparently took issue with his clothing, or maybe it was the long hair the witch had glamoured him with, or it could've possibly been the fact that he was riding a Harley, hell, it could have been that he was a smoker – he really wasn't listening to the drivel pouring from their mouths as the first punch whistled through the air at his head. He ducked and spun, planting his left fist viciously into the man's kidney and dropping him like a sack of wet cement.

Meaty arms wrapped around Spike's torso, pinning his arms to his sides until the back of his head connected sharply with the man's nose. The man shouted and let go, blood pouring through the fingers that were now covering his face. A well-placed kick to a knee put that one out of commission and now Spike only had two left.

They circled him warily and Spike stood still, wearing a smirk. "You gonna come at me sometime soon, mates? Got other things I need to be gettin' on with." One of them faked left and Spike rolled his eyes as he caught the man around the neck and tossed him across the parking lot. He crashed into the side of the pickup and slid to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Spike turned back to the only man left standing and let his demon come forward, forgetting for the moment that he was glamoured and it wouldn't show. The guttural inhuman growl came through just fine, though, because suddenly the man's bladder let loose in a warm gush, and he stumbled back a few steps then took off across the parking lot. Spike shrugged and turned toward the bike as he muttered under his breath, "Maybe that wasn't the shoe after all. Bugger."

He straddled the bike and fired it up then roared out of the parking lot and onto the road as his demon melted away.