ON THE TOWN
``Where the hell are we goin`?`` I ask the ponce for the umpteenth time this evening. Which earns me the same response as every other time I have asked, that being a non-commital shrug and that goddamn half upper-lip smirk.
I snarl at him, to the same effect. None.
Have to admit, soul-boy`s gone all out this eve. Got us all dressed up like effin poncey penguins, riding in the back of the singular most pompous car I have ever seen, and the bugger is even wearing cologne. Lucky for him he didn`t try to put that crap on me. Come near me with that poofy shit, he`d have come back with a bloody stump.
I have tried everything I can think of to wipe the annoyingly amused look off his cursedly handsome face. There is a wealth of technological instrumentation in the back of this limo, and I have wreaked my own special brand of havoc on all of it. Bastard hasn`t so much as blinked. So now I`m drowning my misery in the surprisingly good booze which apparantly came with the stupid car.
Christ, I hate his statue boy routine. It only bodes misery for me.
I remember his words last night in the mall. ((`Wait til you see what`s on the menu tomorrow night.`)) Arse. Angelus had nothing on this version of my Sire. Bastard is the complete master of torture.
I am locked in the back of a leather and steel monstrosity, dressed like a movie theatre usher, seated next to a bloke who smells remotely like orange marmalade, hurtling speedily toward certain affliction.
I`m going to fucking stake myself.
******************************************************
He looks like he`s going to stake
himself.
He`s gone through all the stereo and TV equipment back here with a less than careful hand. After what he did to my stereo, it really pales in comparison.. I simply watch, affecting an air of the dispassionate. Mostly, I`m ignoring his cursing, and just watching him move...
Beautiful boy. Unruly blond waves neatly combed back to reveal the long neck and sharply defined cheeks. White shirt and inky black tuxedo jacket, red tie, luminous skin.
He looks so good when he`s pissed off.
I have to hand it to myself. I have excellent taste. In clothes and in men.
He`s staring at me with those blue eyes rimmed in gold. His look is half sheer terror and half murderous rage... and I realize I haven`t seen him drink this much since Dru left him that last time....
I refuse to answer his barrage of questions, and so now he`s snarling at me.....
I watch calmly as his handsome face loses its sharply defined edges, molds itself into demonic visage, pointed teeth flashing dangerously in the half light of the car.
Game face and a tux. I shrug. Ah well, Spike can carry it off.
I hold back a laugh lest he strangle me. He is the picture of indignant fury. Priceless moment, really. Wait til he sees where we`re going. I know him, if I told him now, he`d jump out of the goddamn car right here on the freeway.
O my. I need to tread lightly here.
I get any more satisfied with myself and I`m gonna lose my soul. I grin
at him again, and close my eyes, tapping my foot to the music only I can
hear...
*******************************************************
The limousine pulls up in front
of a large theatre, and a huge line of stuffed shirts awaiting entrance.
I scan the marquee......No..No...it couldn`t be..even *he* wouldn`t be
this bloody cruel....
``CHRIST ON THE CROSS, ANGELUS COULDN`T YOU JUST RUN ME THROUGH WITH HOT POKERS AND PUT ME OUT IN THE SUN!?!?``
``Now, Will, be a good sport and come inside.`` He is grinning maniacally, and I think I am going to vomit. It`s been a long time since I`ve lost my lunch, but this would be the perfect occasion for it. If I puke all over his immaculately polished shoes, he wouldn`t be able to drag my ass into this theatre...
Can someone who`s technically dead pray for death?
Riverdance.
The motherfucking pansy-assed monosyllabic prick has taken me to see Riverdance. Where the fuck is the End of Days when you need it? Where is a Hellmouth? A Slayer with a grudge? I`d settle for a really pissed off Ethros demon.....
But no. Just a long line of the rich and annoying, and us walking to the front of it, and my Sire waving our tickets at the doorman, and I dont care if I do humiliate myself, there`s no way on satan`s ass I am going in there.....
``What about your stinkin` redemption?, `` I howl, almost piteously. If the flash of some fang didn`t do it, maybe the whole guilt thing will. That`s his gig now, ain`t it? ``You`ll never get into heaven tormenting me this way, you sorry sonofabitch.`` I wind my fingers desperately around a conveniently placed pole.
Apparantly, however, he sees no contraindication between my suffering and his Eternal Reward.
``Spike,`` he says patiently, ``let go.... Come on...people are staring. I promise, it won`t hurt...`` I`m going to tear that smile off his face with needle nose pliers. He is carefully prying my fingers from off the pole.
``Hurt!? Hurt!? Please...hurt me...kill me...stake meeeee...do anything...but don`t make me watch sodding Riverdance!!`` Let the mortals stare. I`d drop to my knees in this lobby and swallow if I thought it would get me out of this..
``Later,`` he assures me, ``Right now, we have a show to watch.`` The tone so exasperatingly calm as he leads me by my elbow to my doom.
Balcony seats. Oh gods. I won`t miss a single bloody prance. What are the odds on an earthquake?
*******************************************************
Well, I dragged him into the theatre
without any bloodshed. I have to get points for that. I was momentarily
worried about the poor fellow that offered him the program though.
He is scanning all the possible exits busily as we wait for the dimming of the lights. I have wisely taken the outside seat. He`ll need to get past me in order to leave. He`s not going to get past me.
I thwap him with my program across his thighs, lightly, just enough to get his attention. ``You`re stuck. You`re going to get some culture tonight, even if it kills you,`` I tell him softly.
I am trying not to smile victoriously at him, and thus send him completely over the edge into nefarious rage. I have got Spike, William the Bloody, right hand of Death for the infamous Scourge of Europe, sitting dressed in a black tuxedo, awaiting the opening night of a Gaelic dance fest. Come on. That`s victory enough, even for me.
Oh, who am I kidding? ...... Just one smile.
And he looks like he`s going to lunge for me, but someone is brushing past him to take a seat on his other side. He settles for threats and a misplaced slap upside my head.
``Culture? You call this shit culture?! The Beatles, the Rolling stones, the Bloody fucking Queen of England, now *that`s* culture! This is a bunch of nancyboy Mics stomping around with sticks up their asses like they are having epileptic seizures and I can`t believe you dragged my undead arse to this godforsaken wilderness of poofdom!``
Good thing he doesn`t have to breathe. He`d never have gotten all that out.
``Will,`` I whisper quietly, ``take your feet off the chair.``
He growls.
*******************************************************
The lights are going down now, so
noone will notice if I just quietly throw myself onto the nearest piece
of wood. Well, the ponce would notice. It`d serve his ass right. Let him
feel guilty about that for the rest of his sorry existence. Me, Spike,
William the Bloody, right hand of Death for the infamous Scourge of Europe,
who survived plagues in Europe, mobs in Prague, mutilation at the hands
of army intelligence, but was finally taken down by a well placed chair
rail at RIVERDANCE!
motherfuckingsonofab--
O My Bloody Jesus. That wench on stage is making noises I have never heard come from a human. She must have Beluga whale in her goddamned ancestry. Mics aren`t particular `bout who they fuck, I suppose it`s entirely possible. She sounds like a Discovery Channel dolphin special run amuck..and how the hell am I supposed to understand what she`s damn well singing about if she doesn`t sing in *English*? What the hell language is that anyway? Who the fuck speaks that anymore?
Well apparantly, my Sire, who right now is smiling like an idiot.
O gods, the poof is loving the hell out of this. She must be singing about brooding.
*******************************************************
I don`t think I`ve had this much
fun since I got back from Hell. Which I guess goes without saying, since
they don`t exactly try to make Infinate Torment fun. Unimaginative bunch.
I`m tormenting Spike right now, and by gods, I`m having a grand time. It`s
moments like these I remember why Angelus was such the jolly guy....well,
minus the whole eating of the innards thing.
The Celtic music is pounding a swift beat in my normally silent viens, and when I close my eyes for a moment I swear I can smell the pubs of Galway. We weren`t quite so talented in the dancing department, of course, but after three bottles of whiskey, how many mortal men can get their legs to do that??
``What the bloody hell is he doing with legs?`` Spike swears, and I open amused eyes again to his perpetually annoyed glare.
``Dancing, Spike.`` I answer simply, with the air of one who is explaining to a child why the sky is blue for the millionth time.
``That`s not dancing! They`re not even moving their arms! Who dances without moving their arms?`` His voice is a loud whisper, and our row-mates turn to glare at him. He doesn`t notice.
``Will, it`s the style of dance. They`re not supposed to move their arms. And if you think it`s so easy, try it.`` I reply with a raise of eyebrows, and a head nod to the equally irritated people next to us.
``I didn`t say it was easy, mate. I bloody well said it was *stupid*. Not even movin their soddin arms...`` he trails off into mumbling and I grin again.
Priceless.
Not two minutes later, he`s kicking me in the ankle. ``What?!`` I hiss at him. He tosses me a completely innocent smile.
``I like *her*.`` He points to the stage where now a solitary female dancer is performing dramatic moves akin to ballet with a Celtic twist. She is lovely....graceful, elegant, ethereal, and definately *not* the sort I would have thought my boy would go for...
``She`s limber.`` He announces with the trademark leer.
I just roll my eyes and resume watching the show.