If Unlife Is A Bowl of Virgin Hearts
Tuesday, August 29, 2000
"Where the hell have you been?"
Spike blinked several times in shock at Xander's incensed tone, then narrowed his eyes and stated,
"Well, fuck you, too."
The late setting sun shone through the dappled trees, casting the camp in a shadowy light. Xander
rose from his bedroll and stalked over to where Spike straddled the Hawk, having just killed the
engine. Xander jerked his thumb. "Off."
"What twisted your bollocks in a knot?" Spike said, climbing off the bike. He was seriously
confused and a bit irritated. He finally had been able to shove aside his trouble thoughts and chalk
it up to having a bad day. Simply because he was a demon didn't mean unlife was always a bowl of
"Gee, Spike, I wonder," Xander replied, a sardonic bite to his voice. "Could it be that I have places
to go and no bike to get there?"
"Hey now, it's my ride, too, y'know," Spike growled, anger beginning to override his confusion.
"No, it's not," Xander said coldly. "I bought the Hawk using money I earned. You are just an
annoying parasite who takes advantage of my generosity."
"A parasite?" Spike stared incredulously at him.
"Yeah, a parasite," Xander repeated, climbing onto the bike and kicking her into gear. He
continued over the hum of the engine, "You're worse than the stuff that sticks to a piece of gum
that's stuck to the bottom of a shoe."
That... hurt, Spike realized. It actually hurt. If felt as if someone sucker-punched him. "Right
then," he said. His cheeks pulled in drastically as he set his jaw. "I'll just scrape myself off your
shoe and get the hell out of your way." Not waiting for Xander to reply, he pivoted on his heel and
stormed away from the boy. It wouldn't take long to get his gear together, since he hadn't
unpacked. Then, he was gone.