Leaving Angel’s office and absently closing the door behind him, Rowan turned around and walked straight into Spike. Unable to hold back a startled gasp, he grasped at his chest and glared at the vampire. “Jesus, man, don’t do that!”
Spike tsked in mock sympathy. “Didn’t think you’d scare that easily, mate. What, ten minutes in the poof’s office and you’re turnin’ into a bloody fruitcake?” He was rewarded with a dark look that clearly indicated that the other man didn’t share his amusement.
“You’ve been hanging with ‘the poof’ for more than a century, Spike,” Rowan pointed out, irritably. “What does that say about you?”
The blond vampire looked taken aback for a moment, then snickered. “Good point. Rest my case, then.” He shrugged and turned to leave.
“Wait.” Rowan let out a sigh and grabbed the vampire’s arm to stop him. “Sorry. Rough night. Didn’t get much sleep.”
“No kidding?” Spike cocked his head to the side, watching Rowan with interest. “Do look a bit knackered. What happened? Some pretty chit wore you out?”
“What can I say?” Rowan grinned. “Met a Canadian girl last night and brought her home. Was hardly able to keep up, if you know what I mean?” He puffed out his chest.
“Second bird this week, eh?” Spike raised a scarred brow. “Good for you, mate. Bet the ladies get really impressed by that big mansion of yours.”
“Yeah, my house is one huge chick magnet.” Rowan chuckled, before he became serious as he changed the subject. “Was gonna go look for you, actually. Boss wants us to get Oscar’s coat from the lab downstairs.”
“I see.” Spike rolled his eyes. “So, basically he wants you to go fetch the soddin’ coat, and me to tag along to keep you from getting your parts chopped off by the bleedin’ Scavengers?”
Rowan grimaced. “Something like that, yeah.”
~ ~ ~
“Please...” The pale demon had backed up against the wall, trembling in fear as the horrifying creature in front of him kept approaching him, slowly. “No more! Please, just kill me...”
“Yes.” The thing that looked like a man nodded in agreement, his eyes glowing. “Kill. But not yet.”
“Why?” the demon choked out, a pleading note in his voice, as if begging for mercy. “I – I can’t take this anymore. Why won’t you just... kill me?” He started coughing violently, and a gurgling sound escaped his damaged throat.
“Because...” The slim – but surprisingly strong – creature easily picked him up by the arm and slammed him into the wall. A sickening, cracking sound could be heard as the already injured demon’s spine snapped like a twig. “Morou can still make use of you.”
~ ~ ~
“So, how’re things working out with you and the Slayer?”
Spike froze in his tracks for a moment, turning to look at the blond man standing next to him in the elevator, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”
Rowan quickly raised both his hands in a defensive gesture. “Just curious. Don’t have to go all...” He wiggled his fingers, feigning claws. “...‘grr’ on me.” The vampire just snorted, clearly unimpressed, and Rowan decided to try a different tactic; “You know, I heard Angel’s thinking of asking her out...” Struggling to hide his amusement, he watched as Spike’s handsome face immediately slipped into the face of a demon.
“Buffy’s mine! I’ll rip his bloody head off!” Spike growled, furiously, then stopped as he noticed the smirk on Rowan’s face. His features shifted back to normal. “Very funny.”
“I thought so.” Rowan chuckled as they stepped out of the elevator. They walked in silence until they reached the large white door leading into the lab. Taking a deep breath, he cast a look at Spike as he carefully pushed the door open. “Ready to flash some fang?”
Spike merely shrugged, casually slipping past him into the dark room. Rowan fumbled with the light switch on the wall and turned the light on. He had to blink a couple of times for his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Then he spotted the closet at the far end of the room, the door half open. Quickly making his way across the room, he threw a nervous glance at the vampire.
“Got your back, yeah? Just hurry.” Spike sounded bored as he patted the pockets of his coat in search for his cigarettes.
“You know, I...” Rowan stopped as the light suddenly went out. “Oh, great!” He paused. “Spike?” Silence. Rolling his eyes, Rowan quickly made a decision and took a few steps forward, reaching blindly for the closet door. “Spike?!” he hissed again, not really surprised when the vampire still didn’t answer. Son of a bitch was enjoying this, no question about it.
Suddenly he sensed a movement next to him and stopped dead in his tracks. When a few seconds passed and nothing happened, he let out the breath he had been holding. Carefully taking another step, he gasped as he stumbled on something and lost his balance. “Fuck...!”
The moment he hit the floor, they fell upon him like a pack of hyenas, having been stalking their prey and just waited for an opportunity to attack. Rowan could feel their sharp teeth tearing into his clothes and scratching his skin, and he made a desperate attempt of fighting them off. “Spike!”
Having obviously decided that enough was enough, Spike roared menacingly somewhere in the room. Before Rowan knew what happened, he was free and scrambled to his feet. A moment later, his eyes were able to make out the shapes of his attackers as the vampire had flicked his zippo lighter on. He shuddered, wiping some slime off his jeans with a grunt of disgust.
The room was full of black, furry creatures, barely three feet tall, snarling and muttering threateningly in some – at least to Rowan – unknown language. He watched as Spike lit a cigarette, tilted his head to the side and listened to the strange noises coming from the little bastards. Then the vampire snarled something in response, and all the Scavengers immediately started backing away.
Nonchalantly sauntering over to the closet, Spike pulled the door open and removed the large, white lab coat from the hanger. Then he turned to Rowan and nodded towards the door. “All done. Unless you feel up to staying and make further acquaintance with these little buggers.”
Rowan stared at the vampire in disbelief, his mind having yet to register what had just happened. “You understood what they were saying?!”
“Course.” Pulling a final long drag from his cigarette, Spike let the butt drop to the floor and crushed it under his boot. “Speaking G’harval, weren’t they? Any demon with self-respect knows how to speak that.”
“Sure...” Rowan shook his head in helpless frustration and followed Spike out of the lab. “So, what did you tell them?” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Nothing, really.” Spike tossed the coat to the other man, who caught it easily. “Just told ‘em to sod off, or I’d rip their balls off and shove ‘em up their furry little...”
“Okay! I get the picture. Jeez...” Rowan rolled his eyes, not needing a visual image.
As they headed back towards the elevator, Spike glanced at the other blond. “We’re going out tonight.”
“What?” Rowan turned to him with a frown on his face.
“Me and the Slayer.” The vampire shrugged. “You asked how things were going, and that’s it.”
“Really?” Rowan’s face broke into a genuine smile. “That’s great!” He meant it. Sarcastic jokes and bickering aside, he had come to really enjoy the company of the vampire over the last couple of weeks, enough to consider him a friend. And although Spike would probably never admit it out loud, maybe not even under torture, Rowan knew deep down that he felt the same way.
Rowan wasn’t blind, nor was he stupid. He had seen the effect the Slayer had on both of the souled vampires. Not that he had anything against Angel, after all, the guy was his boss, but seriously, he could be so boring sometimes, or – to be more accurate – most of the time. Spike on the other hand was fun to be around.
The blond vampire looked a little surprised by his words, but at the same time pleased. “Yeah, well, ‘s not like it’s a date or anything. ‘S just dinner.”
“Still...” Rowan grinned. “You’ll have her wrapped around your little finger by dessert.” Spike chuckled, but didn’t comment. Watching him closely, Rowan noticed the uncertainty on the vampire’s face. He cleared his throat. “Well, I really like Buffy. She’s a great girl. I’m sure everything will work out just fine.”
“Right.” Spike was quiet for a moment before clearing his throat as well, looking a little uncomfortable. “Dunno ‘bout you, but I’d bite someone for a beer right now. What do you say?”
Rowan glanced down at his ruined t-shirt, nodding eagerly in agreement. “I’d say, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
TBC
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Mabel Marsters for betaing!
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