And I should do what in my spare time? [open]

[idolstolemylook]

WHO Spike and YOU
WHAT Spike's compulsions are many and varied. Have some!
WHERE Cemetery, Hellsing, bars/dives, random streets. Anywhere a vampire can go.
WHEN All this week! Backtagging always welcome.
NOTES Spike can be just as loyal and generous as he is snarky and drunk, so if you want anything from him this is a good time to get it.
WARNINGS

Comments

Tuesday evening?

[tenuefarfalla]

Cho felt... odd. Curious. Kind of stuck. Terrified and also determined. It was weird. She wasn't sure if she liked it. That being said, she couldn't seem to stop it.

It was why she was currently standing in the middle of the cemetery in the thin evening light, turning in a slow circle and trying to find a mausoleum made out of the same pale stone she'd seen behind Spike in the video with the ramen noodles. Which, yes, that was also weird. And was a very good reason for her to stay very far away. Not that she was listening to very good reasons at the moment.

Clearly.

Because she'd just knocked on the doors of two of them and stood around for a ridiculous amount of time seeing if either would open up. They hadn't. Well... huh.

Now Cho was just standing in the middle of the cemetary, turning in a slow circle. There had to be an easier way to do this. "Spike? Spike!" That was one way to go about it.

Tuesday evening!

[idolstolemylook]

Spike couldn't imagine who would be calling his name. Who even knew he lived here besides Buffy, and she was more the "kick down the door" sort of girl. He flipped off the tv (it was re-run of Falcon Crest, anyway) and went to the door, more curious than anything else.

Striding through the cemetery, he could see her before she saw him. Mostly because she was turned the wrong way, but he recognized her instantly.

"Well, well," he called out, some distance from her. "If it isn't Miss Corpus Interruptus herself. Point of interest, pet--you want to avoid vampires, you don't call 'em up in a graveyard."

[tenuefarfalla]

Cho whirled around quickly, on guard (for all the good it would do her) but seemingly unafraid. "You do if they live in one and you're looking for them." And she was looking for him. Because she wanted to talk to him. And it seemed like a good idea. Not a good enough idea for her to have told Wataru what she was planning, but still...

[idolstolemylook]

"Fair point," he admitted, sauntering up to her and looking her over as he did so. It was hard to avoid looking lascivious with those cheekbones and that coat and Spike rarely tried. "Look whole enough. Come to thank me for savin' your life the other day, or you hidin' a stake somewhere in there?"

Wednesday night

[gotmadskills]

Faith liked to have her finger on the lack-of-a-pulse wherever she was at, whether it was in Boston, Sunny D or Bete Noire. Even if she didn't seem like it she was the kind of girl who kept track, she knew where to hunt down the locals and what to do with them when she found them.

She knew that, anyhow. It still might've come as a surprise to Spike to have Faith dropping in for a little howdy-do. Freaking vamps living in cemeteries, like you couldn't be a bloodsucker with a normal house or something.

Except, well, houses had windows and everything usually.

Faith didn't knock and she didn't call, she just strolled on in, set on having a look around and touching his stuff. She didn't need the city pushing her to act on every thought that came into her head.

[idolstolemylook]

Spike was nowhere to be found--but the lights were on, and there was a sound of rushing water coming from somewhere. In truth, Spike didn't smell her until he'd stepped out of the shower, and he emerged from some tunnel with a towel slug low around his waist and his hair standing up in tufts from his attempt to dry it.

"Take after big sis in the not manners having department," he said belligerently. Y'know, we can't even walk into your places without knocking. Seems the least you could do. Don't touch that! You have any idea how hard it is to get a decent vinyl collection around here? Had to go all vampface just to get the first Violent Femmes."

Of course normally he'd have just killed them, but things like that were so relative these days.

[gotmadskills]

Faith grinned at the record, waving it a little. "Didn't even know they had these anymore. Could probably dig you up a few more if I had a reason..."

She gave him the eye and a cocky weave of her head, he didn't look bad wet and toweled. "So is B spendin' a lot of time down here touchin' your tunes, or is she still all hung up on how wrong it'd be?"

Not like she needed to give him more ammo to bitch about how all she talked about was Buffy, but hey, he brought her up first. It was fair game.

[idolstolemylook]

That hit a little close to the mark, and Spike's mouth pursed up into a little pout of irritation before he could control it.

"Me an' Buffy," he said with a touch too much primness--which was to say, really, that there was any at all, "have a deeper connection than that." Narrowing his eyes, he fired back. "How's the Watcher?"

Dark alley behind some skeevy bar

[demonologist]

The vampire snarled and rushed Wes, looking to bowl him over. He managed to sidestep and kick at the man's backside trying to off balance him instead. He had his stake clutched in his right hand and was looking for the right chance to strike. The problem was that he was starting to feel the strain on his injury. The pain-killers were wearing off too. Still, he was determined to make a kill. This was why he'd gone hunting alone that night. To test himself. To remind himself that he wasn't just a weak human. Thoroughly expendable. The window had made him fear not being able to make a difference on his own. Perhaps it was true. But he didn't want to believe it

[idolstolemylook]

"'My big fat undead cock'? That the best you can do?" From a rooftop above, Spike landed directly behind the vampire, a stake appearing moments later emerging point-first through his chest. "Would've at least made a pun about your stake, you romantic twat."

The vampire exploded into ash as Spike retrieved his stake, which he tucked back into his coat as he stood staring at Wesley. Smirking, to be more precise.

"Knew you were that desperate, I'd've helped more," he said, curling his tongue behind his teeth. "Don't think he was your type, though, Cambridge. Wouldn't know what to do with a piece like you." He sniffed loudly. "Do smell like dessert, though, I have to tell you."

[demonologist]

Whatever sliver of gratitude Wes had felt at having Spike come to his aid, it soon vanished as soon as the cocky bastard started teasing him about their previous encounter.

"I had it under control. You didn't need to go into heroics on my behalf. I was handling it fine, thank you."

He glared at him, more than annoyed with the whole situation than he wanted to let on. Mostly annoyed at himself for having given in to impulses which could only have been city-induced.

"He's not my type. Neither of you are."

At the 'dessert' comment, Wes involuntarily looked down to check his healing wound, and was dismayed to see that fresh blood was seeping through the bandage. He thrust his arm down again and turned to stalk off down the alley and away from Spike.

[idolstolemylook]

Spike looked after him for a moment.

"An' here I was expecting flowers," he called after him. And then without thinking he bounded forward, catching Wesley by the uninjured arm. He was not one to curb his impulses, but Spike often had several warring unconsciously inside him; his first comment was the one he normally acted on, but it wasn't the only one. "Hey, c'mon," he said. "Don't owe me nothing--just doing my job, right? Rather not find you buggered to death. I'd better come with."

Warning: may or may not be dragging a ton of people with him

[miseryismyotp]

When he'd woken up tonight, Conrad had felt...strange. Not so much empty, but as though a weight had been lifted off him. All the things he wanted to do in life were right out there in front of him. Nothing was stopping him. He could go out, do what he wanted, when he wanted, and actually start enjoying it. Why the hell hadn't this happened to him sooner?

Right now, he wanted to hang out with Spike. Why not? The guy was awesome, everything cool and suave like Conrad wished he could be. He wanted to have friends, so he was on a mission to make friends. Grinning, he began pushing the door open to Spike's crypt, heading down into it to have a chat with the other vampire.

[capj_harkness]

Jack followed Conrad into the crypt. Interesting, he thought. None of the other vampires he knew submitted to this sort of cliche way of life. Unlife? Whatever.

"How did you meet this guy?" Jack asked Conrad.

[miseryismyotp]

"Spike was the first person I'd met in Bete Noire," Conrad answered brightly over his shoulder. God, actually following his whims and compulsions was really making him happy. Who'd have thought?

"He's kind of an ass but he's got a good heart. I think. Somewhere deep down in there."

[capj_harkness]

"Any friend of yours is okay with me, Conrad," Jack assured him, clapping him on the back.

Backdated to late Friday night, random bar?

[always_thewoman]

It had been a long night - two shows, an argument with one of the stagehands, and the faint but ever-present ache in her stomach hadn't made it a cakewalk by any means. And then there was that strange something that'd been pulling at her all night. At first it'd put her on edge, made her almost jittery, but by this point in the evening it'd dulled to a gentle tug, one that was not entirely unpleasant.

She wasn't ordinarily one for visiting bars - working at The Sanctuary meant that bars weren't generally a useful way to wind down after work - but that niggling sensation that'd been at her all night pricked at her on her way home just as she was passing a darkened entrance. And so here she was, perched on a bar stool and sipping on a glass of red wine, thinking that whatever intuition had lead her here, she didn't much mind. It was a very good wine, after all.

[idolstolemylook]

Spike didn't normally frequent bars where ladies like her sat drinking red wine. It was enough to make him look twice from where he lounged against one wall, close to the bar. Just... watching. Passing time. He was bored, which was not a stable state of affairs when he wasn't being influenced by the city.

Shoving off the supporting wall, he sauntered over to the bar, ordering a beer.

"You in the wrong bar, or me?" he asked casually.

[always_thewoman]

Irene's eyes moved over him, then flicked around the bar - dark, a bit rough around the edges, and completely unapologetic. Not unlike, she rather thought, the man who'd addressed her.

With a little self-deprecating smile she said, "The former, in all likelihood. But then," she added, her smile a touch sharper around the edges, "Not all of us can pull off leather." She quirked her eyebrows momentarily - an ingratiating rather than mocking gesture - before taking another sip of her drink.

[idolstolemylook]

Spike looked her over in turn. American, but... there was something off. His slow smirk didn't much care, however.

"You lookin' for some to pull off, I may be able to help."