Buffy the Vampire Slayer Preferences + imagines/one shots

Spike - Willy's Place

set in season 4's Goodbye Iowa (not particularly important to the story, but hey)

Willy's Place, 11.35pm

"You're new." he says, tilting his head as he says it.

The guy is handsome to be hanging out in a dive like this. He's the most handsome demon I've seen in here by far, but I have only been working here a couple of weeks. His eyes are blue and his accent's British. I suppose I'm a little too busy thinking to reply because he continues:

"You're human." 

I've heard that many times here and it's usually accompanied by a sneer. This guy, however, refreshingly seems to be focused on how strange that is, rather than fantasising about how quickly he could rip out my throat. He seems interested. I give him a small smile. 

"What'll you have?"

"Double shot of 0-negative. And don't skimp on it - Willy always skimps on it."

Oh. That makes sense. Should've guessed he was a vamp. 

I pour the drink and pass it to him. He tosses some cash onto the bar and I peel it off, flick through it and slide it into the till. Those blue eyes are still looking at me. 

I'm usually the one to ask the questions. It's my job, as a bartender, to listen to the people that come in here. I like it - and I'm used to it - so I'm a bit taken-aback when cheekbone-dude asks me a question.

"How'd you end up here, then?"

By the way he sits in the chair, relaxed but self-assured, I presume he's a regular. Probably has a good rapport with Willy. He currently looks like he couldn't be bothered to kill me, although his eyes do trail over my neck, so I tell him, truthfully, "Willy's a family friend and I needed a job."

"There's plenty of jobs that don't involve fraternising with sixty types of hell-spawn a day."

I prop an elbow on the bar. "I enjoy a challenge."

His finger traces around the rim of the glass, collecting scarlet blood. Slowly, he brings it to his mouth. 

"Do you know how to fight?"

I pause for a second. It didn't sound like a threat, but hell, I don't know this guy. 

He senses my apprehension and adds, "Just wanna know you can handle yourself in a place like this, pet."

"Don't you worry about me." I tell him and the corner of his mouth quirks up into a smile. When he takes a sip of his blood, a droplet stains his chin and his tongue darts out to catch it. 

He looks tired, his eyes faraway. I know that look - it's usually the cause of the slayer, or a relationship. I kind of hope it's a relationship, in his case. (Sue me.)

"You look like you've had a rough day."

"It's been rotten," he says, perking up a tad at the chance to complain, "You know those army blokes, catching demons left, right and centre?"

I nod.

"Ran me out of my place," he tells me, "And all over town."

I grab a rag and start wiping down the bar. For better or for worse, this guy makes me nervous (not in a bad way, but in a he's-cute way) and I just want something to do with my hands. "They're really bad for business. Folks don't feel safe coming out, knowing they're lurking around. Good you avoided them, though."

He doesn't reply. Then he looks up, his glass empty, save for the blood coating the inside of it.

"I'm Spike, by the way."

Spike. Unfortunately, that's a hell of a cool name, no matter how much of a warning sign it should probably be. It sounds vaguely familiar - maybe Willy mentioned him?

I'm about to tell him mine when a demon places a hand on his shoulder. He's part of a group I didn't see come in, but he's big and ugly. I think he was here the other night.  

"Yeah, what's that?" Spike asks the demon, unbothered, before he gets socked in the face. 

I wince as the demon hauls Spike out of his chair and delivers another punch, right in his nose.

Spike staggers back and shouts, "Oi! What did I do?"

He blocks the next blow but the demon tries again, until they're fully sparring in the bar. Willy wouldn't like this - it's supposed to be a violence-free zone now. Plus, of course I'll have to clean up any blood/dust/demon chunks that end up on the floor or walls. The demon's cronies loom ominously in the background and I have a sinking feeling that this is about to get a lot worse. 

The other customers view the spectacle curiously, some heckling, some egging the demon on. I don't know what Spike did, but none of these guys seem to be on his side. Another red flag - why are cute guys always insane?! Spike punches the demon in the face and a sharp canine goes flying across the room. That's it.

"Hey!" I shout as loud as I can, smacking my fist down on the bar for good measure. The entire bar goes dead silent. It's unexpected, but very ego-boosting. "Take it outside." I tell them, quieter, but just as stern. 

The demon drags Spike out by the scruff of his shirt. The vampire winks at me as they disappear outside. I just shake my head.

I don't know who this guy is, but he's obviously trouble. 

...

It's been a while and neither party has come back in and admittedly, I'm curious. I sneak out the back after them and can hear smacking sounds. I peer out the door and see Spike rolling across the concrete. His face is turned away from me, but even as a human, I can smell tangy blood in the air. 

"What did you expect, Spike? A welcome party?" the demon growls. 

Spike lays still.

"Word's out. You've been making war on the demon world."

This time, Spike croaks out, "War?"

"With the slayer," the demon replies, his voice brimming with disdain, "You kill other demons and the rest of us don't hold with that. Still, if I see you around again, I'll be inclined to break that code. Do you understand?"

The demon and his friends leave. 

Now, I realise where I've heard the name Spike before. Willy had been gossiping about how this underground army had been neutering demons (as he'd put it) and Spike was one of them. Willy bragged that he used to be one of his most famous customers but now he feels sorry for the guy. I can't help feeling a twinge of pity for him, too, as he lies defeated on the ground. 

I take a small step forward and he stirs, rolling over to face me. As predicted, his face is cut and bruised. It looks like it hurts when he pushes himself up into a sitting position. 

"Hey again." His voice is weak. 

"Hey." I reply lamely, not sure what to say. He spits out blood onto the gravel. "I'd offer you a drink on the house, but my shift's over in ten."

He looks at me for a long moment. I find myself with so many questions about this man I've just met. "It's okay, love. I think I'd best be off before another bastard decides to get his rocks off by pummelling my lovely face."

I can't argue with the bit about his lovely face. Though, it's not so lovely right now. 

I nod, tongue tied, and I go back inside. 

...

Willy thanks me and takes over my shift, and I lie, reassuring him that it was a quiet night. I go out the back way (luckily he doesn't question it) and find Spike still sitting out there, a cigarette to his lips. He drags from it slowly - I bet his ribs are bruised - and addresses me without turning his body to me. 

"How about that drink?"

 hoped u liked this one, thanks for reading <3

BTW - i've got an AO3 account of the same user (fizzy31funny) if you want to check out my fics on there!! <3