Another Hellmouth Slice short story-Chance Encounter
The muse has been absent for a long time. Trying to come to terms with my business closing down and all those feelings that created, I've been too depressed to try writing anything. But it seems that I'm finally over the hump now. Here's another short story in my Willie the Bartender series-I hope you guys enjoy it. Rated G. 915 words.
A Chance Encounter
“You want another drink?”
Spike nodded. He knew the rules. Nobody occupied a seat without dropping coin into the coffers.
Willie twisted the cap from the bottle and poured another shot. The vampire had shown up at sunset. He didn't speak to anyone, instead sitting at the far end of the bar alone drinking steadily all night.
He watched the vamp dig for his money. “I’m surprised to see you still here. You know it’s nearly dawn.”
“Not ready to go home.” Placing the money in the bartender’s outstretched hand, Spike felt someone very familiar drop heavily onto the empty barstool next to his. A voice he hadn’t heard for awhile said, “Don’t go anywhere with that bottle. I’ll have what he’s having.”
The bartender obligingly poured a second glass. “Haven’t seen you around the Hellmouth for a long time. Rumor had it you moved down to L.A.”
“Rumor had it right. I’m here visiting for a few hours.”
“And that would be a few too many hours for the rest of us. Angel. What a bloody surprise. Of all the gin joints, yada yada. Have you missed me that much? I could visit L.A. again, or we could just go outside for a go round right now.”
“I’m not here looking for you, Spike, although unhappily I seem to have found you anyway.” He dropped some bills on the bar. “Leave the bottle, Willie.”
As the bartender moved away, he reached for his glass. “I came down to support Buffy. She just buried her mother. As for you Spike, I owe you a few hot pokers, so don’t start with me. I just want a couple quiet drinks before getting back on the highway.”
“The Bronze didn’t have the right ambiance for some good old fashioned brooding, eh? All those kiddies laughing and dancing, all that horribly peppy music.”
“I can’t hear myself think in there. It’s too loud.”
Spike’s lips curved. “You’ve never done ‘loud’ well, Liam.” He picked up the bottle and poured them another round.
“And you’ve always done it too well, William.”
“I had a good teacher.” Spike paused and downed his drink before continuing. “I know all about Joyce. We got on well. Followed her illness right to the bitter end.” His mouth twisted. “Tried to leave flowers at Revello-out of respect for a lovely lady- but Harris got nasty. They ended up all over the sidewalk.”
“Harris is a first class ass. Always has been.”
“Wanted to make him sod off, but….”
“I know.”
“How’s the Slayer?”
“About how you’d expect.”
“She’ll miss her mum. They were close.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to Joyce. A fine woman, great sense of humor, who always had a cuppa ready for a bloke.”
“To Joyce.”
Willie came through the kitchen door and stopped in front of them. “Are you two talking about the Slayer? You didn’t hear this from me but there are four biker demons out back in the alley. They’re planning to jump her later today. The leader thinks she’ll be vulnerable to an attack, what with being upset about her mom and all.”
Angel stared at Willie. “Just what do you know about the Slayer and her mother?”
“Let it go, Angel. He’s tryin’ to help here.”
“Sorry.”
Spike turned back to the bartender. “They’re in the alley right now?”
“Underneath the overhang beside the dumpster. That’s how I heard them. I was taking out the trash.”
Spike set his glass down on the bar. “Feel like some noise yet?”
Angel placed his glass down next to Spike’s. “You always have to have noise. This would be better handled quietly. After all, Willie has a business to protect.”
“Color me stunned, but you’re actually right for once. Watch our drinks Willie, and don’t be watering down that bottle either. Angel and I are going outside for a tick; I want to show him some of the things he’s missed since takin’ off for the bright lights. When we return have some hamburgers and a plate of chips ready. I'm starting to feel a might peckish.”
He hopped off the barstool. “Want your burger with or without cheese?”
“I don’t like hamburgers. Or cheese.”
“Willie makes the best burgers on the entire Hellmouth.”
“You know I never eat.”
“You must fit in perfectly in a city where no one orders anything but organic romaine on teeny tiny plates.”
Satisfied they’d take care of the problem Willie watched the vampires leave. He liked the Slayer enough not to want anyone messing with her right after her mother’s funeral. It just wasn’t right. His own mother had been gone for over twenty-five years and he still missed her. Buffy should get the chance to mourn, Slayer or not.
When the door closed, he grabbed his bar rag and headed into the kitchen to fry up two double cheeseburgers and a basket of fries. His gut said the two vampires-even if they’d never admit it out loud-wouldn’t miss such a happenstance opportunity to spend a little time together, especially after their shared fight.
Dumping the fries into the vat of hot oil, he grinned. It was going to be an interesting meal. In between bouts of drinking, arguing and reminiscing, the two would certainly share memories of the dead woman they both admired, while dancing all around the subject of the other, live woman it was obvious they both loved. He’d definitely be serving those two himself.
The End
A Chance Encounter
“You want another drink?”
Spike nodded. He knew the rules. Nobody occupied a seat without dropping coin into the coffers.
Willie twisted the cap from the bottle and poured another shot. The vampire had shown up at sunset. He didn't speak to anyone, instead sitting at the far end of the bar alone drinking steadily all night.
He watched the vamp dig for his money. “I’m surprised to see you still here. You know it’s nearly dawn.”
“Not ready to go home.” Placing the money in the bartender’s outstretched hand, Spike felt someone very familiar drop heavily onto the empty barstool next to his. A voice he hadn’t heard for awhile said, “Don’t go anywhere with that bottle. I’ll have what he’s having.”
The bartender obligingly poured a second glass. “Haven’t seen you around the Hellmouth for a long time. Rumor had it you moved down to L.A.”
“Rumor had it right. I’m here visiting for a few hours.”
“And that would be a few too many hours for the rest of us. Angel. What a bloody surprise. Of all the gin joints, yada yada. Have you missed me that much? I could visit L.A. again, or we could just go outside for a go round right now.”
“I’m not here looking for you, Spike, although unhappily I seem to have found you anyway.” He dropped some bills on the bar. “Leave the bottle, Willie.”
As the bartender moved away, he reached for his glass. “I came down to support Buffy. She just buried her mother. As for you Spike, I owe you a few hot pokers, so don’t start with me. I just want a couple quiet drinks before getting back on the highway.”
“The Bronze didn’t have the right ambiance for some good old fashioned brooding, eh? All those kiddies laughing and dancing, all that horribly peppy music.”
“I can’t hear myself think in there. It’s too loud.”
Spike’s lips curved. “You’ve never done ‘loud’ well, Liam.” He picked up the bottle and poured them another round.
“And you’ve always done it too well, William.”
“I had a good teacher.” Spike paused and downed his drink before continuing. “I know all about Joyce. We got on well. Followed her illness right to the bitter end.” His mouth twisted. “Tried to leave flowers at Revello-out of respect for a lovely lady- but Harris got nasty. They ended up all over the sidewalk.”
“Harris is a first class ass. Always has been.”
“Wanted to make him sod off, but….”
“I know.”
“How’s the Slayer?”
“About how you’d expect.”
“She’ll miss her mum. They were close.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to Joyce. A fine woman, great sense of humor, who always had a cuppa ready for a bloke.”
“To Joyce.”
Willie came through the kitchen door and stopped in front of them. “Are you two talking about the Slayer? You didn’t hear this from me but there are four biker demons out back in the alley. They’re planning to jump her later today. The leader thinks she’ll be vulnerable to an attack, what with being upset about her mom and all.”
Angel stared at Willie. “Just what do you know about the Slayer and her mother?”
“Let it go, Angel. He’s tryin’ to help here.”
“Sorry.”
Spike turned back to the bartender. “They’re in the alley right now?”
“Underneath the overhang beside the dumpster. That’s how I heard them. I was taking out the trash.”
Spike set his glass down on the bar. “Feel like some noise yet?”
Angel placed his glass down next to Spike’s. “You always have to have noise. This would be better handled quietly. After all, Willie has a business to protect.”
“Color me stunned, but you’re actually right for once. Watch our drinks Willie, and don’t be watering down that bottle either. Angel and I are going outside for a tick; I want to show him some of the things he’s missed since takin’ off for the bright lights. When we return have some hamburgers and a plate of chips ready. I'm starting to feel a might peckish.”
He hopped off the barstool. “Want your burger with or without cheese?”
“I don’t like hamburgers. Or cheese.”
“Willie makes the best burgers on the entire Hellmouth.”
“You know I never eat.”
“You must fit in perfectly in a city where no one orders anything but organic romaine on teeny tiny plates.”
Satisfied they’d take care of the problem Willie watched the vampires leave. He liked the Slayer enough not to want anyone messing with her right after her mother’s funeral. It just wasn’t right. His own mother had been gone for over twenty-five years and he still missed her. Buffy should get the chance to mourn, Slayer or not.
When the door closed, he grabbed his bar rag and headed into the kitchen to fry up two double cheeseburgers and a basket of fries. His gut said the two vampires-even if they’d never admit it out loud-wouldn’t miss such a happenstance opportunity to spend a little time together, especially after their shared fight.
Dumping the fries into the vat of hot oil, he grinned. It was going to be an interesting meal. In between bouts of drinking, arguing and reminiscing, the two would certainly share memories of the dead woman they both admired, while dancing all around the subject of the other, live woman it was obvious they both loved. He’d definitely be serving those two himself.
The End