Afterparty

"Wakey wakey." Ethan woke to a lazy mockney drawl, and like any sensible man, kept his eyes closed tight and pretended to still be asleep.

Or unconscious. Unconscious would do and was likely far more accurate.

Unfortunately, it was rather difficult to feign continued unconsciousness when kicked in the ribs by a steel toed boot, and Ethan rolled over with a groan, curling around the bruises pitifully. "All right. All right. Stop. I'm awake."

There was a soft creak of leather and tight denim, and the scent of tobacco smoke. "So. I'm told you're the bloke we've got to thank for the party last night." Ethan opened his eyes to find a vampire crouching over him in game face, lit cigarette dangling from one hand. And not just any vampire.

Spike.

Oh. Lovely. "Party?" Because it was always, always safer to feign uncertainty when one was guilty of so many things.

"The little insidey-outsidey fun last night."

"Oh. That." Ethan's eyes crossed as he watched a spark drift down to the concrete before his nose.

"Well?"

Ethan cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"Now, that's a bit of a quandary for me," Spike said, bouncing to settle himself into his crouch, and taking a drag off his cigarette.

"Is it?" Ethan grimaced, hoping the question had come out pleasant sounding enough.

"Yeah. See, I was just on my way to a tasty mouthful of Slayer blood, so you can guess my surprise when it all went poof." He opened his hand, flicking the cigarette off into the dark in a shower of sparks. "Imagine my disappointment."

"Yes," Ethan said, because agreeing seldom went amiss, and he couldn't quite think of anything to get himself out of this. Yet. At least Spike had stopped kicking.

For now.

"Now, the smart thing to do," Spike said, standing and beginning to pace, "would be to give you a way to make things up to me. But that presents a problem."

"It does?" Short and simple. Usually effective. Ethan wondered if he could inch his way to the door.

"That it does." Before Ethan could move a muscle, Spike had swooped back down to grab him by the hair and pull his head back, baring Ethan's neck, and that was always a bad pose to be in with a vampire. "See, I'm a veal man. I prefer 'em young and tender."

"Oh," Ethan croaked, resisting the urge to rub at his throat.

"So you've got nothing I want." Spike let go of Ethan's hair, tossing him disdainfully to the ground and standing, patting down his pockets for another cigarette. "Except one thing, I'm thinkin'."

"Anything in my power." Ethan tried a winning smile that came out as another grimace, and hoped Spike would take it in the spirit it was meant.

"Now that's what I like to hear." Spike paused long enough to light his cigarette, the flare of the lighter warming his skin momentarily. "I want you to do it again."

Ethan hissed, drawing in on himself. "I- Ah. Actually, that would be what's not in my power." Please don't kill me.

"Well then, that's a pity." Spike released a stream of smoke into the air and paced back to Ethan, planting a boot firmly in the space between Ethan's jaw and shoulder.

Imminent death, Ethan had discovered, was incredibly inspiring. Always. "But I can get you something else! Something else you want!"

"Oh?" The boot lightened up some but didn't go away entirely.

"One- one of her friends."

Spike snorted, pressing down with the boot again. "What makes you think I'd want that? Little red haired mouse and a boy walking around with hurt me written all over him." Spike paused, though the boot didn't let up as much as Ethan wished it would. Fervently. "Hmm. Second thought, the boy might be interesting to play with."

"Anything. You want the boy? He's yours. I'll get him for you," Ethan promised through the constriction of his throat, feeling the trapped blood pounding in his temples and cheeks.

"And how will you do that?"

As much as Ethan would have loved to answer, all that he could force out of his throat was a sad choking noise.

"Oh," Spike said, as if only then realizing that Ethan needed air with which to answer, and removed his foot entirely. "Right. How will you do it then?"

Ethan rolled to his knees, panting and gasping for air. "Piece- piece of cake. I'll just wake him up," wake up the little something extra he'd seen in the boy, "to the possibilities."

"I want more than possibilities, mate. I want him to crave me. Need me. Take whatever I dish out, he needs me so badly. Needs me more than he needs the Slayer."

"Oh," Ethan said, pushing himself up to a kneeling position and rubbing at his throat, feeling the beginning of a relieved grin, and thinking of the slumbering hyena just waiting inside the boy for a mate. "I assure you, he will."