For Zo

Mar. 4th, 2014 03:31 am
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Soft, that was what they called him. Soft, like some sort of useless, plush bear. Soft like freshly turned soil over a recently filled grace. Soft like--like he was soft! William the Bloody, pleasure to make your acquaintance; he hadn't earned the name Spike by being soft (the other name maybe not so much). But still. Still! He resented it! It was like the ultimate existential slap in the face, as though he hadn't suffered enough. Two years of his life, and he'd driven off Angelus for what? For Drusilla to scoff in his face and leave him? Not demon enough for her! What did that even mean? He was all demon. All demon. And he was going to prove it.

But the Little Bit wasn't exactly going to help him out if he hurt her, now, was she? That was what her friend was for. For taking the edge off the enormous press of tension he'd been staving off with alcohol for the last few months. To make him feel better.

Pulling the door closed behind him, he approached the unconscious body he'd carried here. Lumpish thing. Brave, real brave, but not even a little bit clever, at least not that Spike could see. Anyone who thought going into a lethal situation as Angel's portable snack couldn't be all that bright, could they? He nudged the boy's leg with his foot, his hands going into his pockets.

"You can stop playing dead now, I can hear you breathing."

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Bill T. Bloody

March 2014

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