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Welcome to The Hellmouth? by Schehrezade
 
Chapter One
 
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This fic is written for megan_peta for her tireless work betaing this fic and so many more for me! Also for her encouragement to write more of what was intended to be a short series, her excitment over each chapter has been the reason I carried on with it! Megan I hope you enjoys *g*

The banner was created by the talent selene2 thank you so much for the gorgeous banner

Italic-thoughts

What was he doing in this armpit of a town?

Oh right, he was damned…

Spike cradled the shot glass in one hand as he glared over at the result of his damnation. She bounced and writhed all over the piddling dance floor, her hair a beacon of golden light under the strobes. He squinted at her two friends dancing with her and dismissed them in an instant as coattail hangers on. Something that he would sort as soon as he’d gotten enough liquid courage; Spike downed the JD with relish.

“Set me up with a bottle, luv.” He cocked his head and pinned the fluttering bartender with his best smouldering look. He dug out a handful of cash and began to count out the right amount.

“Oh no, it’s on the house.” The smitten woman pushed the notes back over and tentatively patted him on the hand as she pushed over the bottle that would be his salvation that evening.

“Thanks, pet. You’ve no idea how much I need this.” Spike took a long drink and leaned back on the bar and watched her. She was a ripe minx, one step away from being jailbait, but the sight of her bobbing breasts put paid to that thought. His mouth watered at the sight of her nipples pressing against the silky top. Despite hating her with his entire being, Spike’s mouth watered at the sight of those tender morsels, his eyes narrowed at the burgeoning erection in the floppy haired boy’s slacks.‘Not something you want to be thinking about, kid. She’ll chew you up and spit you out. You’re so out of her league, Whelp, you’re in the minors.’

He didn’t notice the bartender recoil from her position of ogling him as his fangs dropped slightly, the predator in him unhappy that his soon to be territory was being encroached by some spotty teen that’d probably only ever seen a naked woman in magazines. Spike growled deep in his chest. He may not want to be here, but there was no way he was putting up with that sweaty nit panting over his Slayer.

“Fuckit,” Spike snarled and drained the full bottle in seconds. ‘His slayer? Bugger – Bollocks -- arse – soddit-- shite and fuck…not mine. Remember that, Spike. She’s just the reason you’re here, not yours to savour.’ The sigh that groaned out of the vampire seemed to emanate from his toes and work it’s way through his entire system. He wanted to sink to his knees and weep. If he’d been somewhere private where he wouldn’t lose anymore street cred, he would’ve. Tears and self-pity had become second nature to him and he didn’t even have a soul like his bastard of a Granddad.

“Sir, are you okay?” a tentative voice chimed up next to him.

Sir? Since when had he become a sir? Spike glared down at the pipsqueak tugging on his leather and flashed the brat a fang. How dare some mere mortal--something he’d have used its bones to pick his fangs with--ask if he was okay! Master vampires are to be feared, not worried over like some nance. He was tempted to snap the big-eyed blighter’s neck but reminded himself if he did anything bad then he was buggered even more than now. The teen shrank back at the sight of the vampire and stuttered an apology before running out of the nightclub.

Spike mentally preened, ‘Yeah, still got it.’

“Tut tut, William. You know what I told you. Anything vaguely bad and you get a shiny soul shoved down your throat.”

“I hate you, y’know?” Spike closed his eyes at the detested voice of his tormentor who had popped out of the ether.

“Aww, little ol’me? How could you?” The demoness next to him turned to face Spike with an exaggerated pout on her fine features.

“Bugger off,” Spike growled as he crossed his arms defensively over his chest. He did not want to be anywhere near the blonde chit dancing out on the floor, he wanted to be back in his Dru’s arms.

“Now why would I want to do that? When you are about to become the greatest result of all the wishes I have ever granted.”

“Anyanka, I swear I will rip your spine out and club you to death with it

“Ohhh, is that Aurelian master vampire foreplay?” the vengeance demon teased, her eyes never leaving the three figures on the dance floor. “She has a purity in her that I hope you will leave intact,” she added with a warning note.

“You realise that you’re the biggest pervert I have ever met and that’s saying something seeing that Darla is an acquaintance. She is one dirty bitch; the things she did to Peaches with a strap-on and a whip would make tougher eyes than yours water,” Spike remarked absently as he stared at the girl dancing in front of him.

“She’s pretty,” Anya commented as she took in the Slayer that was about to have her world knocked on its axis.

“If you like ‘em with a pulse, I guess.” Spike’s thoughts were on his lost love-- the one that was the reason he was standing on the mouth of Hell ready to leap in feet first.

“What? They’re all ready meals to you?” Anya nudged him none too gently.

“Ow. That bloody well hurt. Wot’d you do, sharpen your elbows or something?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous. Now go on…go meet your destiny.” Anya waved her hands at him.

“Yeah, right, just like that. M’gonna go up to a Slayer and say ‘hello, I’m here to help you. What? Me a vampire? Why yes, how clever of you to spot that. Sorry, do I have a what? Ahhh, a soul? Nope, not got one of those.’ And then poof!” Spike fluttered his fingers in the air. “That’s me exploding into dust in case you’re wondering, you rotten evil bint.”

“So how are you approaching her? In armour with a big sign around your neck saying ‘ask questions first and stake later’?”

Spike sighed again, “I’m sussing it out. Just let me do it in m’own time.”

“Yeah, after she’s died a grisly death on the fangs of some vampire. I am here to ensure that your sire’s curse takes effect and you live by the rules. OR I will curse you with a soul.” Anyanka’s face shimmered into her demonic visage briefly just to remind him she wasn’t just a pretty face.

“Look, about Dru, you do realise she is barking?” Spike tried to keep the begging whine out of his voice but failed miserably.

“She’s a dog?” Anya’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “No -- she’s not, she’s a vampire. Don’t try and distract me.” She stomped her foot and pouted up at Spike. This was truly the most delicious of her vengeance spells and it also paid off her poker debt to that smelly little demon, Whistler. So in her books, it was a killer bargain and there was no way the pouting vampire was going to wheedle his way out of it. “How would you like a nice bout of syphilis for trying to confuse me? I can do that. Make your penis ache in so many ways, have it seep pus and blood, and the pain I can create in that one area will have you wanting to chop it off, just to ease your eternal misery.”

Spike’s hands clapped over his groin and he stared in real terror at the small woman-- the reason for all his misery and the author of his nightmares. “No don’t, pet. I’ll be a nice puppy and play with the Slayer.” He gazed at the instrument of his damnation and wondered why his darling sire had done this too him. Why had she wished vengeance on him? All he had ever done was adore her, coddle her and given her everything her insane whims demanded. Where had he gone wrong?

“Well, when are you going to approach her?”

“When the time is right.” Spike growled, turned on his heel and stalked out of the Bronze, his duster whipping around him as he prowled out into the darkness.

Unaware of a pair of eyes watching his loping walk in appreciation.

A/N comments? Thoughts? Would love to hear what you thinks have another chappie ready to post tomorrow night!
 
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