Am getting Christmas happy... Or just plain sappy? You tell me....
It was one good Christmas for Spike, after one of a hellish year.
He was a real boy, finally. Well, okay, scratch that, not a real boy, like he'd wanted that, but a real vampire, again.
Yes, that's right, ladies and gentlemen, the sodding chip was gone, and he could finally go and bite whoemer he damn well pleased. The list was long, of course, but the Slayer and her fucking friends made the top four. Nah, make that top six, the demon-girl and the blonde witch would make a good dessert. And Slayer's mum was nice, so make it seven. And he wanted to kill the ninja boy for a some time now, so it's eight. Then few other annoying little buggers in Sunnyhell, like that clerk that nastily didn't want to give him credit, and he would go to L.A, give his regards to Poof's little team and then paint the town bloody red.
Yes, the life was looking pretty darn nice for Spike.
First stop, the Watcher's. The git had it coming a long way, what with the handcuffing him in the bathroom and not allowing to watch the telly. Wanker. Plus, after he kills him, he would get his cash and weetabix. Oh, and the bottle of whiskey. Good plan.
He sneaked to look through the window, ensuring that Slayer was not there. He didn't fool himself he would withstood her and the Watcher both... he wasn't that sure he would easily win over Rupes himself, but with the element of surprise that was going to be easy. He smirked and cheerfully watched as the pillock sipped his whiskey, not aware of the fact it was the last one for him. Spike knew what will happen next, he was there for too many of such evenings. The git would pick up the phone and call the Slayer, who of course wasn't there, but prancing around the town with her soldier boy-toy, and then it will be another glass and restless night.
Well, soon the miserable existence will be over, he thought. Just a moment more and he will go inside, grasp Watcher's wrists and turn him around, sinking his fangs even before the man will have time to be surprised, then drink hastily, savouring the taste... he knew it would be rich and delicious, he could smell it whenever Rupes was near, the scent so invinting, the blue veins under palish skin so appealing... He would lick along the pulse, feeling the heartbeat, one hand still pinning down Rupert's wrists, the other cupping his head, bringing it closer to him. Nibbling on those lips, savouring the moans, his hand stroking the hard lenght of Watcher's cock...
Bloody hell. Sodding, bloody hell. Now that was priceless. The minute he gets rid of the fucking chip he gets into, what, crush on a Watcher? The world had to be kidding him. Oh, well, the only way out of it, go inside, kill the wanker, get over it, go kill innocent people, get drunk. Here we go.
Giles turned at the sound of the door opening, looking at Spike suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"
Spike headed for the kitchen, not looking at him. "Came by to steal your weetabix. What else?" he shrugs and opens the cupboards.
"Help yourself," Giles offers with resignation. "There are some scones, too," he adds absently, taking another sip.
Spike grins. All in all, that Christmas was good for him.
btw, what the heck is/are weetabix? *g*