Off Suit

“Hey Spike?”
“What’re you doing?”
“Watching telly. What’s it look like, berk?”


“Hey Spike?”
“How come you and Angel are pretty much the only vampires who don’t spend most of their time fangy?”
“We’re not.”
“Oh... but, most of the vamps Buffy slays are all... y’know Grr! Argh!”
“S’cause they’ve still got grave dirt behind their ears.”
“Oh... What do you mean?”
“The older you get the more you learn to understand the demon’s instincts, the easier it is to control them.”
“So really old vamps can control all their instincts? They’re like humans again?”
“Didn’t say that. The older you get, the less human you become.”
“So you become even more demon-y?”
“Just more jaded.”
“I said “something like that”.”


“Hey Whelp?”
“What’s got you playing twenty questions?”
“Oh, curiousity mostly. Not often you get to question a vampire, over a century old, tied to a chair in your basement.”
“You question other people tied to a chair in your basement?”
“Not as a general rule, no. Although there was that one time Anya… so not going there with you.”
“What happened to demon girl anyway?”
“We were... compensating.”
“You lacking something in certain areas, Harris?”
“Not like that pervy-vampire-guy. We fit together because we didn’t fit anywhere else. Had a talk, and decided maybe it was better to try and find people who fit, without the “because”.”
“Cried like a little girl didn’t you?”
“There may have been crying, of the manly variety.”


“You’re awfully chatty for someone who hates me.”
“Was that a question?”
“Might have been.”
“It’s too hot to do anything but lie here, I’m not tired because it’s so freakin’ hot, and you’re actually... pretty interesting to talk to. Hey do vampires ever get hot?”
“No pulse, remember? No body heat either.”
“No I know that, I took vampire 101, Mister Smart Vamp. I just meant, does the temperature ever make you uncomfortable.
“Don’t much like the cold.”
“What about the heat?”
“I... like it. It’s - bloody hell, it’s comforting, yeah?”
“You know I get that. When I get really sick, even if I sweat like a pig I still curl up under the heaviest blanket I can find and roast myself. Something about the warmth.”


“Do you ever miss it?”
“Miss what? Being human?”
“Nah, I was a ponce when I was human. I miss some things though. Like warm sand.”
“Warm sand?”
“When I was a lad, my Ma took me to the beach. Not even a beach, just this tiny patch of land on the coastline. Wasn’t really sand, mostly shells and stones, but the ground was warmer than anything I could remember.”
“What about going right after dusk. There’s a beach not too far from here.”
“Doesn’t hold the heat too well. The sand would be almost cold by the time I can walk on it without getting singed.”
“Oh... I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Like being a vampire.”
“Thinking of converting to a different faith, eh Harris?”
“Ok, vampires and religion metaphors don’t really mix. And no, I don’t want to be a vampire, but it would be nice to understand the people that do.”
“There’s a lot more going on upstairs than people give you credit for y’know.”
“Thanks, I think? So, you going to answer?”
“I’m stronger, faster, tougher. If I try, I can hear a heartbeat at twenty feet. Feel more alive now than I ever did before I died.”
“Nothing. Just noting the irony in you feeling more alive now.”
“Oh, big word for the grade school-er.”
“Bite me, Fangless.”


“Wouldn’t mind being a vampire right at the moment.”
“I know you don’t feel it the same way I do but you have to realise just how hot it is. I can’t even breathe without making myself hotter.”
“Got the same problem, mate. Only nothin’ to do with the temperature.”
“You don’t breathe.”
“... Well played, Whelp.”


“Never mind.”




“Bloody hell! What?!”
“Would it - don’t worry.”


“Spit it out already.”
“Ok, um. You can’t bite people, right?”
“Chip, lackwit.”
“Right, and you like the heat, right?”
“You gone senile all of a sudden.”
“Would it, I mean, would you - could I…?”
“Sodding hell, out with it before you die of old age.”
“Ok, umm. If I untie you. Could I umm...”
“CouldIuseyoulikeareversehotwaterbottle? It’s just it’s so hot and I’m so exhausted I feel like I’m about to pass out, but I can’t because it’s so hot and you said you like the heat, and I figure I’m about a million degrees right about now and this was a stupid idea never mind.”


“Um, yeah?”
“Can’t cool you down if I’m tied to a chair.”
“Oh, um... Ok, yeah, sure. You sure you’re not going to eat me?”
“Right, sorry. So how did you want to... Whoah, ok, and with the man-handling. Holy crap, you really are cold!”
“So much so I really don’t even care about being the little spoon.”



2 Temporary Insanity

Written to try and convert [info]alsha to Spander. 
AN II: Song credit to Devil Went Down to Georgia - Charlie Daniels Band

“And that was the unforgettable sounds of Patsy Cline. Stay tuned listeners; next up we ha-”
“Erm, hey Spike?”
“Spike! Wake up?”
“Sodding hell, what?”
“Your hand’s umm…”
“Oh, right. Let me just… whelp you’re going to have to move your, yeah and if I just, right.”
“So why was your – ”
“Had this discussion yesterday, yeah? Warm.”
“Yeah but that’s not what –”
“Let’s just call it temporary insanity and leave it well enough alone, yeah?”
“That’s probably for the best. I’m going to head out, want anything?”
“Half a dozen virgins?”
“Sorry, Wal-Mart said they only stock them at Christmas, anything else?”
“Nah, I’m good. Unless you want to splurge on cable?”
“Yeah, dream on, Willy Idol.”
“I’ll get you back for that one, Harris.”
“Bring it on, Bleach.”


“Hey Spike, have fun stalking all the scary bad guys in my basement?”
“Have fun serving hot dogs to yuppies?”
“Point taken. Truce?”
“Not even close Whelp; I still owe you for that crack this morning.”
“Xander Harris is the joke master. You shall be defeated!”
“You’re going down in flames, little boy.”


“Sugar for dinner? No wonder you’ve got a body the girls are all chasing after.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know plenty of ladies admire my luscious bod. And it’s not sugar; it’s Count Chocula.”
Luscious bod. Tell me that’s some stupid American joke I’m glad I don’t understand.”
“Ha ha Spike, you’re so hilarious.”


“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Harris, I’m not looking at you.”
“Yes you are, with the Wile E. Coyote eyes, and the badly hidden smirk and oh no! Tell me you didn’t defile the Count just to get back at me!”
“Still don’t know what you’re talking about, I haven’t done a thing. Pure as driven snow, I am.”
“Yellow snow, maybe.”
“Now that’s just downright rude.”
“You did something to my cereal!”
“Got proof of that, do you?”
“I don’t need proof, you’re evil!”
“Aww shucks… You say the sweetest things, ducks.”
“This is war, Spike.”


“Oi, pass the popcorn.”
“Evil-cereal-defiling-fiends do not get popcorn.”
“Now don’t be like that, pet.”
“Remind me again why you’re not still tied to a chair?”
“’Cause you wanted to get your hands on my luscious bod.”
“Sorry, who wanted to get their hands on whom?”
“If I remember rightly, your hands ended up quite comfortable on my –”
“Changed my mind! You get your own popcorn, here! In fact, I’ll go get a nice glass of A positive and a new bowl.”
“Knew you’d see it my way eventually, Harris.”


Bloody hell!
“Payback’s a bitch, huh Spike?”
“What the hell did you put in my blood, you twat?”
“Oh nothing much. Just half a bottle of Tabasco sauce.”
“You’ve got to sleep sometime, boy.”
“Yeah whatever, just apologise for whatever you did to the Count and I’ll agree to call it even.”
“You want me, William the Bloody, to apologise for messing with your sorry excuse for nutrition?”
“Ah ha! So you admit it!”
“Not going to happen.”


“Shove over, Whelp.”
“Nuh and uh! You started this war, Blondie. And enemies do not sleep next to me.”
“That’s not what you were saying last night.”
“God, you can make anything sound sexual, can’t you?”
“With your hot little hands all over my – ”
Alright already! So long as there are no more mentions of… hands. In any capacity. And you stick to your side of the bed.”


The Devil went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal. He was in a bind 'cos he was way behind and he was willin' to make a deal.
“Spike, wake up, you no good vamp!”
“I know you’re awake. What the hell did you do?”
“You know, you keep accusing me of things with no proof, pet. Bound to hurt a man’s feelings, y’know?”
And the devil jumped upon a hickory stump and said: "Boy let me tell you what: "I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a fiddle player too. And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you.
“You’re not a man, you’re a vampire. Now, why is my hand stuck to the alarm clock?!”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Whelp. Maybe you didn’t clean up right last time you paid the piper.”
“Paid the – gross Spike. I’m not talking about… that… with you! Just tell me what you did!”
Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard. 'Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals the cards.
“Well I suppose in the hypothetical situation that I could possibly have anything to do with your current predicament… I’d say your hand got super-glued to the clock when you tried to hit snooze.”
“Which is a big fancy way of saying you’re a jerk who put super glue on my alarm clock!”
And he pulled the bow across his strings and it made an evil hiss. Then a band of demons joined in and it sounded something like this.”
“You’re going down, Billy Biteless, even if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Big words from a little boy.”


Xander, you’ve gone too far this time.
“Spike? How did you even get the phone number for my work?”
What have you done to Passions?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You know damn well what I’m talking about. The sodding TV won’t turn on and Passions is on in ten minutes.
“Huh. It must be broken. I’ll get someone out to fix it sometime in the next few days.”
The bloody thing is not broken; it was working fine an hour ago.
“You know these old sets Spike; it’s been on its last legs for years. Must have finally thrown in the towel. ‘Though maybe it will resurrect itself if you apologise. Ready to give up yet?”
Messing with a man’s blood is one thing Harris, but you’ve gone too far threatening with my show.
“Yeah, yeah. Got to get back to work. Bye Spike.”

3 Donut Stealing Imps

“Spike, you good for nothing vamp, you’re going to pay for this one!”

“You messed with Passions, Whelp. Did you really expect me to roll over and do nothing?”

“Holes Spike! In my underwear! You cut holes, in every single pair of underwear I own! You don’t think that’s a little extreme? Besides, you messed with my cereal!”


“Why are you looking at me like that? You did!”

“What that entire sentence one giant ‘But you started it’?”

“What? No, well, maybe. I mean, you did! Stop changing the subject, you cut holes in my underwear!”

“Got proof of that do you?”

“Again with the proof?! I don’t see anyone else here and there’s no such thing as an underwear thieving, hole cutting fairy.”


“Oh no you don’t. You almost got me with that story about donut stealing imps, but you’re not going to get me with this one!”

“Hmm, feel that way if you want. Had you going with the imps for a while there though.” 


“Jesus, Fangless! Were you trying to take out the entire demon population in one night?!”

“That the thanks I get for saving your flabby arse?”

“I’ll say thank you later, right now I’m mad. Why the hell did you jump in front of it like that? Another inch and you’d be potting mix.”

“Oh put it away, Whelp, I’m tired.”

“Right, ok. Blood for you, then bandages to stop it from coming back out again. Oh man.”

“Cheers, pet.”

“What the - Spike what are you doing?!”

“What does it look like I’m doing, moron? There’s no way I can lift my arms enough to get this sodding thing over my head so I’m cutting it off.”

“What? But, why?”

“You do remember that demon we just killed, don’t you? My insides are feeling a little drafty at the moment and I’d rather get the grit out before it starts to heal.”

“Oh, right. Of course. I thought you were, uh. Nevermind, here’s your blood, I’ll grab the medkit.”



“Would you stop looking at me like that, Harris. I’m not about to steal your dubious innocence.”

“Careful, Spike. Your education is showing.”

“Yeah well, so’s my liver. Get on with it would you?”

“All hail fake-soldier memories and their basic medic training.”

“Eh! When were you a bloody soldier.”

“Long story, now hold still.”

“Bloody hell! Ow! You did that on purpose.”

“Shut up you big cry vamp.”



“Willow! How’s the witchiest witch of witchdom?”

“Spellin’. What are you doing with a box full of... blood?”

“Big demon, Spike doing his best impression of a pincushion. All bow before the mighty power of Super Nurse Xander! Able to talk suspicious butchers into selling large quantities of blood without seeming like a weird serial killer living in his mum’s basement in a single breath!”

“But you do live in your mum’s basement. And I suppose technically you could say Spike’s the serial killer. Do you think some serial killers were actually vampires, or demons at least?”

“You know I wouldn’t be too surprised. Though humans can be pretty damn freaky on our own, so maybe not.”

“I bet it would make an interesting study. Not that you’d ever find any records if they really were demons. Hey, not all of that is from the butchers! Xander Harris, tell me you did not steal from the blood bank?”

“Willow! Of course I didn’t! One of the perks of working just about every job in this town; I know a guy who knows a guy. He gave me all the stuff they couldn’t use. Nothing that would affect Spike, but enough that it’s impossible for them to use it in a transplant, or something. I got a bit confused when he started talking about white blood cell counts.”

“Oh, well in that case, score one for the good guys?”

“That’s how I’m looking at it. Hey, I got to get going. Could you tell Giles I can’t make it to the Scooby meeting tonight?”

“Sure, tell Spike I said uh... get better?”

“Will do, though I might leave off the confused tone.”

“Good plan, bye Xan.”


“The glorious hunter returns!”

“Sodding hell, it took you long enough.”

“No, no, Spike. There’s no need to thank me for patching you up and spending my hard earned money on blood, which I’m sure not going to drink. Really, your gratitude is too much.”

“Hmm. Did a pretty good job on the stitches actually.”

“Guess pseudo memories are good for some things. Hey, I got you a present.”

“If it’s more tabasco laced blood, no thanks.”

“Nah, no tricks, I promise. Just hang on a sec.”

“No tricks from the self proclaimed “joke master”? Yeah, alright.”

“Hey, I said I promise, ok? Now here.”

“You got me human.”

“I was angling for something along the lines of a ‘thanks’ but yeah, sure, we’ll call that close enough. Hey, I’m going to crash.”

“Right then. Shove over.”

“Huh? What, why? No!”

“Oh get off it already. I’m sodding tired, there’s only one bed, and I can feel the breeze on my bloody kidneys.”

“That’s being a little melodramatic don’t you think?”

“Says the man clutching the sheet to him like I’m going to steal his modesty. Shove. Over.”

“Can’t you at least put a shirt on or something?”

“Worried you can’t resist me?”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“Ha! Maybe I’m the one who should be worried about stolen innocence, mate. There something you haven’t told me?”

“Oh for - You’re not going to give up are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Fine, get in. But watch your hands!”

“Worried you’ll lose control and ravish me if I touch you, Harris?”

“You just make everything sound dirty don’t you?”

“It’s a gift.”



“Mph wha’ ‘ike?”

“It’s sodding freezing in here.”

“Umpire stuffing glug off.”


“I said, vampire suffering blood loss. I’m going to deny this in the morning.”

“Deny what - hey! Watch your hands.”

“Would you shut up and lie still. Look, warm hands.”

“Right. Denial in the morning?”

“That’s the plan.”

“That case, shift your leg a little, yeah?”


“No, just -”

“Ah ok. Lift your head a sec -”

“Bloody hell!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you’re just... surprisingly warm.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Ponce. So, denial in the morning?”

“Still the plan.”

“Do a bloke a favour and make it afternoon?”


The End