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Business as usual by Lilachigh
 
Chp 4 Faults and Foibles
 
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Business as Usual

Chp 4 Faults and Foibles


Agnes was in shock. There was no other word for it. She had opened the tea-room at the dump in the usual way, served cookies and cakes – the Viennese Whirls had gone down extremely well - poured tea and listened patiently while two regular customers, Marcus and Philip, had a violent argument about the relative values of adding absinthe to pig or ox blood and what colour they were going to paint their cellar walls.

But even as she tucked away the grubby dollar bills, or sipped the flasks of blood that were sometimes offered in exchange for her wares, she knew her heart and mind were elsewhere.

Agnes accepted – because she had been brought up to face your faults and try to cure them - that she was a tad naive at times. She did always tend to look for the best in people and so could be sadly let down.

After all, she was a vampire now and that had only come about because she had trusted the handsome man sitting next to her on the holiday trip to see the Stars Homes in Hollywood.

She sighed. She had thought that perhaps she was learning to be a little more streetwise, as the Americans said. Take last night – the young man she had seen going into Willy’s Bar. He had looked such a clean-cut, upright, manly man! The sort you knew would open doors for you or stand up and give you his seat on a crowded bus or train.

And all the time he was – well!

Oh, she knew that sort of thing went on. She might have led what some people would call a sheltered life back in England, and becoming a vampire had opened her eyes to a world where core values could get neglected if you didn’t concentrate on them, but she wasn’t stupid. There were some things that were just not done.

The night before she had waited for the tall, broad-shouldered man to leave Willy’s Bar. She’d had some vague idea of introducing herself, inviting him for tea, arranging for him to meet Spike, hoping they would be good friends. Spike seemed so unhappy these days. That Slayer woman seemed to have a grudge against him. Agnes couldn’t understand why because Spike’s terrible affliction made him harmless to humans.

Anyway, there had been a commotion in the bar – Sandy, a girl Agnes knew, a customer, had got herself dusted. It was dreadfully sad. She’d been a difficult girl; Agnes had never been too sure where she got her money from and sometimes she’d forgotten to pay for her cup of tea. But she’d still been a person, with feelings and not doing too much harm in the world, not enough to get herself dusted.

Agnes never went into the bar at night, not when people were drinking. She’d promised her mother and father never to go near strong liqueur and even if her room was in the back of a bar, she didn’t have to see the drink being taken.

So she’d been outside when the tall young man left in a hurry. He’d pushed past her without a word of apology and vanished into the night. A bunch of demons had tumbled out of the door, making half-hearted attempts to catch him. They’d told her the young man, whose name was Finn, had killed poor Sandy.

“You see, you just can’t be too careful,” she muttered to herself now, absentmindedly nibbling on a cheese straw and then chiding herself for eating the profits. “Goodness, if he hadn’t walked so fast, I might have actually spoken to him! He might have staked me!”

“Agnes, Agnes – why are you talking to yourself? People will think you’ve gone bats.”

Coughing violently as a crumb went down the wrong way, she looked up to see Spike standing there, moodily surveying the remains of her food.

“Where have all the jam doughnuts gone?”

“I’m sorry, Spike. That sweet demon, Clem – do you know Clem? - bought the last dozen. I’ve got Eccles cakes.”

Spike shook his head and if he hadn’t been her very favourite person, Agnes would have said he pouted.

“You still haven’t told me what you were muttering about. Seriously, Aggie, you’ll get a reputation for being weird. You know what Sunnydale’s like. A lady like you can’t be too careful.”

A pink blush spread across Agnes’ face. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had paid her a compliment. Well, not one that wasn’t to do with cakes.

“I was just thinking what hypocrites some humans are. They try to destroy us and then the next thing you know, they want to indulge their nasty little habits and use us as a way of doing so.”

Spike frowned and nodded. He’d had a rotten day. That wanker Riley Finn had thrown him out of Buffy’s bedroom, just when he was indulging in a feast of smelling and touching and –

“Which particular human has rattled your cage, then? And if she’d young, blonde and skinny, you have all my sympathy!”

“Oh you mean the Slayer? No, I haven’t met her yet.”

“You’re bloody lucky, then,” Spike replied, moodily. “Wish to God I’d never met her.”

“Don’t blaspheme,” Agnes said automatically and poured him a cup of tea, adding a tiny splash of pig to give it body. “No, I had a narrow escape last night. I could have been staked!” She gave a little shudder.

Spike looked up sharply, licking his lips as he savoured the fascinating taste of PG Tips and blood. “Agnes – what happened? It’s not like you to wander away from where it’s safe. Are you sure you haven’t run across the Slayer?”

“A girl got staked in Willy’s bar last night. By a young man called Finn.”

“What?”

“Yes! Isn’t that dreadful?”

“Finn staked a vamp last night?”

Agnes wondered if he was going deaf or perhaps he was still distracted by his own troubles. “Yes, that’s what I just said. A poor young girl called Sandy. Dreadful thing to do. Especially as he and she – well – ” she pursed her lips and turned away to tidy up the empty cake plates.

“He and she what?” Spike put down the cup and smiled at her, his eyes warm and as blue in the moonlight as the cornflowers that used to grow in her grandparents’ garden. “Agnes?” His voice deepened.

She felt her heart flip. Oh, she knew he wasn’t at all romantically interested in her, but it was so nice to have a real friend here in Sunnydale, someone who was interested in what she thought and did.

“Well, as you know, I am not one to gossip and we all have our faults and little foibles, but rumour has it that this Mr Finn likes to – you know!”

Spike shut his eyes and counted to ten. He liked Agnes and knew she would tell him in her own time.

“Know what?” he said patiently.

Agnes peered round to make sure no one else was loitering in the garbage dump, waiting for their supper. In a loud whisper she said, “He’s been sampling – tasting – drinking from us vampire girls, apparently! Isn’t that awful? Why on earth would any self-respecting vampire let a man do that to her? Spike – Spike ?”

But with a swirl of his long leather coat, her friend had gone.

tbc




 
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