The Adventures of Captain Peroxide and Deadboy
The Angel/Spike Zone of the BtVS Writer's Guild
Title : Three Tuns
Author : Gunbunny
E-mail : [email protected]
Distribution : Ask first.
www.kabukivice.ndo.co.uk/index.htm
Fandom : BtVS
Summary : Spike meets Angelus for the first time.
Rating : Dunno. A bit of swearing occasionally.
Dedication : My lovely and evil siblings.
Disclaimer : I own the whole universe. Joss just happens to own some characters, a few settings, that kind of thing.
Feedback : Or I'll set the Smurfs on you. Everything appreciated.
Push open the door of the Three Tuns. Usual crowd. River folk,
thieves, tarts, labourers. Feel a pair of eyes on me. Unusual in this
place. No coppers in here - they wouldn't dare. It's not a place to be
looking. Look too long and you might find yourself floating down
river with your throat cut as a catch for the boat people.
Go up to the bar to get a drink from Annie, she frowns. "What's got
you in a tizzy, then?"
"Trying to think of a way to get you to marry me, me darling Annie."
She snorts. "I've had you once. Quite enough for me, Will. Don't
want to live with you."
"You're breaking my heart, Annie."
"You're just one of many, you rascal." Draws a pint, casually says
"The gent in the corner's got his eye on you."
"I know. Dunno who 'e is, though. And me arse ain't for sale." Put a
few coins down on the sticky bartop.
"Keep out of trouble, ey Will? Looks the dangerous sort."
"Wot, an' I couldn't handle 'im?"
"There's always a meaner bastard out there."
Take my pint, go sit down. On the way to an empty seat, take a look
at the corner.
There. Toff, obviously. Couldn't be anything else with those clothes
and that way of holding himself. Big bastard, too. And I mean big.
Natural loomer. Dark, handsome looks. Definite look of danger
around him. Annie was right. Not a bloke to cross if you can help it.
Drink my pint, keeping one ear cocked.
He's in there the next night. And the next. Always watching me.
Bloody spooky. After a week of it, Annie leans on the bar, nods in
his direction. "Looks like you've got a real admirer, Will. Who do
you owe money?"
I growl. "Half the time I turn round he's bloody well there. It's
getting right on my wick. Turned round last night after cutting this
bloke's throat and he's watching me. Then he bloody well grinned
and bowed, taking himself off without so much as a by-your-leave."
"Perv or looking to recruit you for something, you think?"
"Him, leader of a gang? Come off it. Bet 'e hasn't done a day's hard
work in his life."
"Perv, then. Good-looking perv, though."
"Never trust a pretty face, luv."
"Not even yours?" She grins.
"Specially not mine. You know that, pet." Look into my pint, make a
decision. No more of this pissing around. Put the mostly-empty mug
down, turn, catch his eye. Make sure he's looking, jerk my head in
the direction of the door and walk out.
Wait in the cold alley, tossing a knife from hand-to-hand. Just
starting to think it's the stupidest bloody thing I've done in a while
when the door opens. Out steps his grace, all immaculate clothes and
swaggering poise.
Catch the knife, put it away. Raise an eyebrow. "Well?"
"Ye were the one t'call me out, lad." He says, smiling slightly at some
private joke. Not only a toff, a Mick too. Nothing against micks, just
got a lot against toffs.
"You're the one following me, mate. It's been an effing week now."
"You interest me, lad."
"If you're looking for a quick shag, try a couple of streets over. They
cater for all sorts over there. And I'm not some bloody mark, either.
What's got you on me tail? You're no copper."
He grins again. It's really pissing me off now. "Is it not enough to be
interested in a man without an ulterior motive?"
"Everyone's got a sodding reason for stuff, an' I don't believe you for
a minute. What is it you want?"
"I was wondering about the man they call William the Bloody."
"Not that bloody nickname." I groan. Something someone stuck me
with when we were getting pissed one night after we were talking
about our practices. "You've met me, now piss off." Move to go back
in the pub. Suddenly he's right there in my face. Someone that big
shouldn't be able to move so fast.
"Oh, I don't think so, lad." Touches my jaw, pulling a finger along
my jawbone. "I'd like t'make your acquaintance, an' I doubt you'd be
so pretty with your face mashed up."
Smile. "An' you wouldn't be half so alive with this in your gut." I
reply, pressing my knife into his stomach. Well, I try to press it in,
but his hand's suddenly there on my wrist, crushing it. Knife drops
onto the cobbles noisily, dropping from my nerveless fingers.
"Don't cross me, lad. Not a wise decision."
"What the fuck d'you want with me?"
Yet another bloody grin, one you'd imagine wouldn't look out of
place on the devil himself. "I told ye lad, you interest me. You're
different." Chuckles, brushes his lips over mine. I pull my head back,
but he grips my chin. Feels like sodding iron pincers. "An' don't
forget, you now belong t'me."
"Wha-" I don't get any further, because his face changes and his
eyes go golden. And then there's this pain in my neck and it all goes
to hell in a handbasket.
END