A sharp elbow in the ribs woke The Immortal from a deep sleep. Mario was cowering next to him, whimpering quietly. “Mario, for heaven’s sake…” he growled, pushing the young man away from him. He suddenly became aware of the shadowy shape in the darkness. A disconcerting thrill of fear ran through him, something he hadn’t felt for a very long time. “Who…?” He peered across the room, frowning.
“’Evening. Understand you’re looking for me.” Spike stepped out of the shadows.
“How the hell…”
“Did I get past your goons? Turns out they were both more interested in watching internet porn that watching out for their boss.” Spike tutted. “You just can’t get the staff.” He gestured to Mario. “Up you get, Charlie boy. Need to talk to your man here.”
Mario leapt eagerly from the bed, smiling ingratiatingly, hands cupping his genitals. As he made to pass him, Spike put out a hand and grabbed his arm. “Just in case you were thinking of being a hero…” he turned his game face towards the cowering boy, “Don’t. OK?”
Mario swallowed hard and nodded rapidly. “No. I go. I not come back. I not like him anyway.” He glanced back at The Immortal fearfully, then reached up to whisper in Spike’s ear. “He like very strange things…”
“You don’t say.” Spike turned his gaze back to The Immortal, shrugging out of game face. Freed from Spike’s grasp, Mario fled.
“You have me at a disadvantage, my friend.” The Immortal looked up at Spike in feigned puzzlement. “You clearly know who I am, but you are..?”
“Right now possibly your worst nightmare.” Spike gave a hard grin. “Cut the crap, mate. You know exactly who I am.”
The Immortal looked at him levelly for a moment, then shrugged. “OK. You are William the Bloody… Spike.” He sneered. “Such a common name.”
Spike shrugged. “Least I got a name. Odd, isn’t it? The way no-one seems to know yours.”
The Immortal’s sneering smile became slightly more fixed. “Alright, so I know you and you know me. And what is it you want?”
Spike walked over to the bed. “Want? Now there’s a question. How about you keep your Roman nose out of my business?”
“Ah, well, the problem there is that you made your business my business.” He frowned up at Spike. “You should have stayed away from Rome.”
“Yeah? Well, let’s just see if I can’t persuade you to see things my way.” Spike stood over The Immortal. “Thing is, I know your secret, mate. I know all your little secrets. And I mean all.” Spike leaned forward, smiling as The Immortal winced and shrank away from him. “I know about the spell.” He shook his head. “And they told me you would never use a spell…” he said sadly.
“I… I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, I think you do. And you know what else? I know the key.” Spike bent lower, mouth millimetres from The Immortal’s ear. “I know your name,” he whispered.
The Immortal blanched. “I… I don’t believe you.”
“No? So, do you wanna call me on it? Want me to say it out loud? ‘Course I’d have to break the spell as well…keep it neat, like.” He leaned back to look The Immortal in the eye. “You’ve gotta ask yourself a question. Do I feel lucky?” He stood up and grinned savagely. “Well, do ya, punk?” Damn, he loved that line – been waiting a long time for the chance to use it.
There was a long pause. “What do you want?” The Immortal asked eventually.
“From you? Nothing. Except that you leave me and mine alone. Me and mine. And by mine I mean just about anyone who ever has or possibly might come into contact with me. Except maybe….” He hesitated and considered, then shook his head. “No – including Angel. You understand?”
“And if I choose not to?” A final stab at bravado by The Immortal, somewhat spoilt by the slight shake in his voice.
Spike shrugged. “Then our little secret becomes a lot of other people’s little secret. And some of those people… they won’t be as accommodating as I am.” Spike’s voice was suddenly cold steel. “Don’t doubt me. It’s in place. So much as a sniff of trouble, the slightest suspicion that something’s up - and you’re suddenly a nine-hundred-year-old mortal. Guess you wouldn’t be quite so pretty then.”
“If you know all this, then why do you not use it?”
“Oh, I dunno. Kind of like the idea of you knowing I know. Makes me feel all warm inside. Besides, man like you could come in useful. Might just need to call in the odd favour.”
“And in return…”
“You get to live.”
The Immortal looked at him steadily. “And I can trust you?”
“Who me?” Spike was the picture of innocence. “Cross my heart and hope to…” he stopped and grinned. “Well, you get the gist.”
“Then it seems I have no choice. Although the thought of having my life in the hands of something as temporary as a vampire...” He shrugged
"Don't worry about me, mate. I think I'm going to be around for a while. Don't you?"
The Immortal gave a short laugh. “Strange as this may sound, I like you. I don’t suppose you need employment?”
“No.” Spike turned away. “Listen, sorry about your… friend.”
“No matter.” The Immortal shrugged dismissively. “There are plenty more pesce in il mare. “
“Funny, never got the thing about Italian men.” Spike frowned thoughtfully. “Personally, I got the impression they were all a bunch of greasy mummy’s boys. Well, those of them that weren’t foaming-at-the-mouth fascists, naturally. Can’t see the attraction.”
“Ah, well. You know us Romans…” The Immortal shrugged.
“I know you. Probably about enough.” Spike grinned. “I’ll be in touch. Ciao.”
He let himself out of The Immortal’s apartment, unchallenged by the two guards. Really wouldn’t want to be in their shoes when the boss was up and dressed. Once out in the cool night air of the street, he stopped and leant back against a wall with a relieved sigh. Well, bugger me! Didn’t honestly think he’d manage to pull that one off, as it happens. Not usually one for the lucky guesses. And it suddenly struck him that if it hadn’t worked out and he’d been wrong... he hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. No matter. He pushed himself away from the wall and grinned. All worked out just fine. Head high, he resisted the urge to swagger and made off for a celebratory drink. Nice cold Nastro Azzuro would go down very well. And then… he had to face Buffy. He paused mid-stride. The phone call to announce his freedom had resulted in an invitation to dinner with Buffy and a chance to 'sort things out'. Somehow, even with the promise of a somewhat biased Dawn as mediator, Spike didn't think it was going to be easy. He sighed, set his jaw and headed for the bar. Maybe two nice cold Nastro Azzuros, then…
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