Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Spike, Clem
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words: Day 8:
Word Count: 763
Date Written: 8 August 2017
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
“So this is the place, huh?” Spike asks as Clem stops walking.
The Demon nods so hard that his large, floppy ears bounce up and down. Spike dismisses the sight although he once would have laughed at it. “Come on.” He starts toward the bar but stops again when he notices Clem is standing stock still. He circles around behind him, pats his shoulder, and tells him again, “Come on. I’ve got this.”
“But -- But what if -- “ The big Demon stumbles over his words and looks like he’s about to cry . . . again.
“They make fun of you this time, I’m going to kick their fangs in. I’ve got you.”
“You’re a really good friend, Spike,” Clem says, still close to sobbing.
“Shut up,” the Vampire growls, “before you ruin what’s left of my reputation.” Of course, this act of kindness itself might do just that, but it’s worth it to get these punks to back off of Clem. He’s a good Demon, a good friend, and Spike won’t have anyone making him cry again.
Instead of pushing the door open with his hands, he kicks it open and strides inside the dimly lit bar. Every Demon and Vampire in the room immediately stops what they’re doing. He hears the scrape of velvet as one holding a pool stick completely misses his shot.
He stands alone in the stream of moonlight just inside the building. “Clem,” he hisses out of the side of his mouth, “get in here!”
Slowly, the big guy trudges through the door, his head bowed. Even his ears look like they’re about to start dripping tears, Spike thinks and growls. The pool players drop their sticks and run to the back of the bar. Spike smirks at the gathered crowd. “I can see I don’t have to tell you who I am.”
“N-No,” the barkeep’s the only one brave enough to answer him.
“Good. Then we’re going to make this easy.” Spike reaches behind him, grabs Clem’s shirt, and yanks him forward. Before the entire group, he pats his shoulder and lets his arm stay draping over him in a clear symbol of friendship. “This is my buddy, Clem. He says you people have been giving him a hard time, making fun of him and all -- “
“We -- We didn’t know he was with you, Sp-Spike.”
Spike glowers at the bartender. “Did I tell you you can say my name?”
He smirks again. “That’s better. Now I’m gonna say this once and only once: It better not happen again. And if I find out who’s been changing the channel in here off of Passions when it comes on, I’m gonna make it to where you can’t change a channel again for the rest of your life. That’s a bloody good program.”
“Any questions?” He eyes the cowardly lot hiding in the back of the bar. He can hear their knees and wings banging together as they shake their nervous heads. “Good. Now that that’s settled, barkeep, get me something to drink. And who’s paying for my good buddy here to have his drink and a couple of nice rounds of pool?”
Demons, Vampires, and other monsters suddenly surge forward. Everybody’s tripping over themselves to pay, and to play pool with Clem. Spike grins up at him as he taps the top of the bar. “See, big guy? Told you. No problems. It’s taken care of.”
Clem grins. “You’re a good friend, Spike,” he says again, meaningfully.
This time, Spike doesn’t hesitate. It’s clearly this lot is terrified of him, and as long as they’re scared of him, they’ll show Clem proper respect. “That’s right. Friends are hard to come by, and I’d gladly tear out the throat of anybody who disrespects one of my good buddies. Or my favorite show.” He turns around, glass of blood in hand, as he hears Passions starting on the telly in the back.
“I-I th-think they’re doing a marathon,” the bartender comments from behind him.
“Good.” Spike sips his blood. “I might stick around a while then, get caught up on my show, and make sure your people treat my guy right.”
“Free drinks for everybody!” one of the Demons Spike takes for a regular exclaims, holding up his glass. “In honor of Sp--” Spike looks at him, one eyebrow raised, and without a word from the blonde Vampire, the Demon changes his speech, “Clem!”
“Aw, shucks,” Spike hears Clem say and smirks into his blood. It doesn’t hurt to be a friend every now and again.