The Bronze was a dark warehouse which was neutral for the gangs. It seemed built upon a standard of sex and violence but retained a somewhat clean image to hundreds of people who came from out of town, specifically to experience it. Which only annoyed the living hell out of Spike. Everyone already knew him in LA and since the notoriety of the Bronze grew had brought migrants to Sunnyhell. The Brit could barely breathe unless going to a dive to get plastered.
Its one saving grace was that the Initiative didn’t always go there and thus led to fewer altercations. Not that Spike would have minded a decent brawl… he would try anything to get his mind off Buffy.
The floor seemed to shudder with the impact of the bass music, Garbage’s “#1 Crush” causing a stir of people to flood the downstairs area. Spike shoved them out his way, muttering his curses under his breath as he grabbed the stool.
Finally he had reached the bar.
Ignoring the appreciate glances which followed him the Brit took a deep swig of bourbon, relishing the burn as it coursed down his throat. His duster hung over the back of the stool, acting as a clear warning to all to stay far away. Back when Dru had thrown tantrums, Parker’s ninnies had thought it would be good to torment him. They hadn’t expected Spike to fight back. Even half pissed the Brit had broken several arms leaving the crowd to acknowledge that he was better left alone. The Brit sighed in relief, his elbows leaning against the counter, as other patrons moved to stools further away.
Now this was better.
To peace of mind thought Spike bitterly, downing his third but nowhere near last shot for that night.
He stayed hunched over that bar for well past an hour, not keeping count of the refills but rather encouraging and sometimes threatening the bar keeper for more. He was on a mission to get so plastered that all recent events would vanish from his mind, at least for several hours. He knew that they’d return soon enough with Buffy, probably carrying small harmers to slam into his skull and jesus he was already drunk.
Spike never registered the brunette which sat beside him later, her clinging clothes doing little to hide her frame. Breasts spilled out of her green top whilst the leather pants hugged every inch of her hips. A few guys had been following her all night and had only stopped when seeing she was headed in Spike’s direction. Even then they lingered on the side lines waiting.
“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Her smile was purely sexual, darting over Spike’s form with predatory calculation.
Spike swayed his head in her direction, bloodshot eyes taking a minute to focus on her. “Hullo Faith” he slurred. “Where’s your bitch Parker?”
Faith swung thick brown hair behind her, turning on her seat so that she faced him. The man was completely plastered.
“At home nursing his foot which by the way was not a very nice method of saying goodbye” replied Faith with a grin. “Thanks to you, I’m the one who has to do all the work while the guy just lies there. I have half a mind just to shoot him in the head.”
Spike stared at the counter which had odd messages scrawled across it. He tried to read some before the pounding in his head became too much. He needed to get home. “I don’t know why you fuck him Faith. The wanker’s never done anything good for anyone.”
Faith nodded her head at the bar keep, sculling a shot of Tequila as Spike’s body slumped further. “But your forgetting what happens if I stop blondie.”
“What would happen Faith? You know that the minute you leave the wanker Aureli will open the sodding door and induct you in a flash. And if Abrams did decide to cause trouble I’d blow his bloody brains out.”
The cocky brunette set her shot glass back on the bar, cradling Spike’s head in her hands so he would look at her. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man, dark, dangerous and completely devoted. “You’re right but I don’t like the idea of being a kept woman… I’d have to become Angel’s girl and we know how Peaches feels about girls getting their hands dirty. It works out better this way. I can still feed you information and talk to you every once in a while.”
“That’s no kind of life.”
“Yeah but what’s a girl to do…” Faith resisted the urge to kiss him, his lips smelling of bourbon but still completely irresistible. It was better to change the conversation. “I heard about your girl. Some chick named Summers?”
“Yeah” answered Spike. Just when I was starting to not feel guilty for having a bleeding argument with the chit and Faith brings her up. “Wha’ about her?”
Faith set his head down, chuckling as his entire torso all but fell onto the bar. She’d have to call Angel in a few minutes. “Don’t give me that casual shit Spike. Both you and Parker have the hots for her and she’s a goody two shoes. What’s the attraction?”
“She’s sunlight.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Faith perplexed.
“Just that” replied Spike, feeling a dull thud creep across his temple. “She’s everything all rolled up into one. Burning, pure, strong, bright, beautiful, she’s sunlight.” He looked at Faith as though she should understand but found the woman shaking her head in dismay.
“And I take it that this sunshine has driven you to the bar?”
Spike wished that he could get up and walk away. A part of him had always known that Faith cared for him if not felt something deeper but she was self destructive and the complete opposite of Buffy. All he could ever seem to think was of the small petite blond.
“She’s going to kill me.”
Faith’s throaty laugh echoed throughout the room, drawing them a few stares. “She’ll get over it if she loves you blondie. In the end you’re all she has. And she should be aware of how lucky she is.” Faith averted her dark brown eyes from Spike’s analysing gaze. If he wanted her then he would have already done something about it. God I wish he would.
“What I came here to tell you was that Finn’s been acting real suss lately.” Faith’s hand snuck across to his, checking the pulse which was beating regularly.
“Spike?”
“Yeah I’m listening. Just can’t seem to get control of my body.”
Faith shifted him, propping the Brit up against the counter so that he gazed at the gyrating mass of dancers. “It’s a side effect of drinking more than a football team blondie. You should of stopped a while ago.”
“Don’t lecture me Faith. Just tell me what you know.”
“Not much to go on really, Finn’s been in here skulking around and Parker’s suddenly taking a random calls from a some new guy… who funnily enough can give him detailed information about your girl. Couple that with him ditching Amy and you have a few odd occurrences.”
“Not connected though.”
“Don’t have to be” responded Faith. “All I’m saying is keep your eyes out and be prepared. Soldier boy is not the brightest of the bunch but he is sneaky.”
“Don’t forget that he’s a stupid git.” Spike grinned, one hand fumbling for the liquor behind him.
“No you don’t Spike. I’m cutting you off!”
“But Faith ... I…”
“No excuses blondie. Give me your cell and I’ll call Angel.” Faith stuck her hand into the duster pocket, wriggling past the flick knife before finally finding a small mobile.
“Big Bad?” she asked laughing at the cover.
Spike tilted his head away. “Sod off.”
Her dry chuckle rang out once more as she dialed Angel’s number.
“Hey Brood boy, I got Spike here and he needs someone to pick his sorry ass up.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
sorry for the short chapter but there will be some actual spuffy beyond the casual kiss next chapter. As this is my first time writing any tips would be adored. Thankyou annefan and everyone else who has reviewed.