One Wild Ride

by John Cope
Buffy/Dusk Til Dawn/Wild Bunch Crossover

Chapter four: Matalo

Thursday was drawing to its close and due to the speed Spike had traveled at post the revelation that Buffy had a new man in her life, they'd had to spend the last two hours of the day parked in the sunlight waiting for darkness to descend. Spike was pissed and so was Angel after the runaway truck drive he'd been on, so conversation had lapsed a little.

They where in a lay by just two miles from their destination and they sat there sweating (metaphorically) knowing that any passing nosey bastard with a gun and a badge could seal their fate. Spike had decided that if challenged he'd get it over with a quick jump out fangs in throat and take the bastard with him, his life had turned to shit his old love lost and the rather vain (he now concluded) hopes for winning the Slayer's heart seemed like just so many pipe dreams.

He didn't throw the door open though because when it came to it he couldn't give up just yet, Trick's minions might have been exaggerating, Buffy could have fallen out with the bloke, Gecko might have found out what Trick was planning and legged it. *No mate, now's not the time to quit*.

Still there was another thought than ran through the darker recesses of his mind, where the demon lurked - what would it be like to be a master vampire with a powerful and sane vampiress for a mate? *Let Pike have the Hellmouth*, the demon whispered seductively. *Take Buffy, turn her to the night, then go back to England and break each and everyone of those so called vampire lords who called you an uneducated guttersnipe and laughed behind your back*.

Spike sat there thinking on it, and the piece of him that still remembered who he'd been replied. *No! She lives. Even if I have to die to save her*.

Half an hour before the sun set, Spike decided to build bridges. "Look Angel mate, I'm sorry about what happened back there on the road, I feel bad about it, but it was the bloody shock you see".

Looking back at him with the pissed expression still on his face, Angel replied, "I don't understand you, Spike. I think you're in love with a Slayer, and for a vampire, that isn't good. Why do you care who she fucks before she dies?"

Having a great deal of difficulty restraining an urge to throttle his fellow vampire, Spike lied. "You said how much fun it was breaking down remembered inhibitions, well by the sound of things, the fun's disappearing fast, she'd only slept with the one blo...". Spike tailed off realizing he'd just said something stupid.

Angel was now looking like a very suspicious vampire, a hand was resting on his .45. "How do you know this Senor, you are not the Slayers friend are you?"

*Bollocks* Spike cursed, *now I've got to tell him about that wanker Angelus.* "I know it because the bloke she's slept with is a relative, my grandsire in fact, Angelus".

The Mexican's jaw dropped, "Madre dios, you mean to tell me this Slayer actually fucks vampires! Was it of her own free will?"

*God, this is turning into a bastard of a day.* "Yeah, she did it willingly," Spike's voice was low. "Which just proves what they say - there's no accounting for taste".

"Well now there is a thing, a Slayer who fucks vampires". Angel shook his head his good humor restored. "Now I see your problem Spike, you want her dead cause she's your enemy, but you want her warm in your arms as well cause your jealous of your sire. You have a problem, amigo".

*Cheers for pointing that out, Mr. Freud.* Spike wanted this conversation to end NOW. "Yeah mate, well when I've ripped her throat out", he paused. "No correction, gently cut her jugular - I don't like big scars - that particular reason for psychiatric help will be gone away". *And if you buy that one, mate, I've still got some Delorian shares stashed somewhere*.

Angels hand left his pistol holster and he laughed, "I'm sorry I doubted you ,Spike". He handed their last unopened packet of cigarettes over, "Here amigo, let's finish these together".

Spikes answering smile concealed an urge to snigger, *sucker* he thought as he searched for his lighter.

As soon as the sun was safely down behind the hills, Angel got out of the cab and ran back to open up the container unit they were towing. For a few seconds, Spike considered releasing the thing and driving like hell into Sunnydale to warn Buffy. Then rejected the idea, if Trick was taken out, it would be a good thing, as Spike knew he hadn't been forgiven for working with the Slayer last time he was in town and if it came to it a pissed off stranded Pike might just cut a deal with the bloke.

No let Pike do the deed (and maybe lose a few of his own vamps) that was the idea. Then when I tell Buffy, she gets the point about Pike straight away and doesn't hang around to die.

His plans where interrupted as Angel returned with Dutch. The stocky vampire slipped into the back of the cab and he growled. "Son, who told you you could drive? We were thrown all around that goddamned container last night. Angel says you had to make up some time, but you could have warned us".

Spike didn't give a toss, *this is what comes of not embracing new technologies mate*, he felt like saying,* the cellphone great invention without which its difficult to communicate with people you can't see.* But instead restricted himself to, "I'm sorry mate but as Angel says we had a problem up here".

Dutch's answering grunt didn't sound like he was convinced, but since he wasn't going to call his companero a liar, he said no more about it. "Drive us in then ,Spike, park us with the rear doors facing towards the roadhouse".

"All right then mate". Spike started the engine and put the truck in gear, "Off we go on the magical mystery tour".

The truck set off on the last leg of its journey, the vamps in the back sitting quietly loading their rifles.

On I-17, a little further on from the roadhouse on the opposite side from where Spike and his fellow vamps are beginning to close in, is parked a red 4 door Chrysler Sebring convertible. Wesley is the person whose job it is to watch the roadhouse tonight, it's a pity he brought Cordelia who's been trying to get his full attention for weeks. It's also a pity she decided to make the most of this opportunity to get the message across. Will ya look at the steam on those windows!

Once they came into sight of the roadhouse ,a large single storey building with Spike was glad to see a large parking lot, he turned out the trucks lights as being a creature of the night he didn't need them anyway. There were vehicles on the lot - three vans a couple of jeeps and a limo all with what looked like they had blacked out windows. *Poor old Trick, looks like the silly sod's fallen for it*.

Spike smoothly drove the truck through the wide open gate in the chain link fence that surrounded the building and then, without too much trouble, backed the vehicle to the point Dutch had requested. Angel looked out of the side window, "They are coming out Dutch". He was grinning, "We have them".

Dutch slapped Spike on the back, almost hard enough to crack a shoulder blade. "I had my doubts about you sonny but you brought us through, consider yourself on the team". A stake was dropped into Spikes lap. "Angel and me are gonna go open the back of the container and set the show going, be ready to join in the fun".

Both vamps put their game faces on,*getting into character* Spike though picturing a movie scene, he picked up the stake half heartedly. It wasn't like he hadn't dusted vamps before, (and in the case of one annoying little shit, really enjoyed it), but Pike was gang-handed enough as it was. Spike opened the cab door and jumped to the ground but he hung back a little, deciding to be close enough to the action for it to look right, but not too close.

As he wandered down to the back of the vehicle, Spike could hear Angel setting it up like some bloody ringmaster, "Si Senor Trick, stand exactly there with your minions behind you and we'll give you a preview of the show".

Spike stalked out from the side of the truck, not wanting his view to be blocked when the doors were opened. Trick and some twenty five or so of his followers were crowded a few feet from the back of the vehicle tongues almost hanging out,*poor suckers*, Spike felt almost like looking away but this was too fascinating a sight to do that.

Angel and the Dutchman exchanged nods, then they each took a firm grip on their door and jumped to left and right diving out of the line of fire whilst drawing their pistols. Spike saw Trick's jaw drop, then the world exploded as 40 rifles went off at once.

The impact was awful the vamps aimed low, as the hard driven slugs impacted with legs their targets hit the ground to either side of Trick, who was too shocked to even try to run, another volley tore out and with that the survivors overcame their shock and scattered. Spike's eyes were drawn to Angel, who was crouched beside the vehicle fanning his .45, his six rapid shots took the kneecaps off three unlucky vamps trying to make the fence. Spike was suddenly really glad he hadn't run that night in Torres.

The night air was rent with screams, those vamps who could still run tried to, those who couldn't were trying to crawl away except a few who just lay there waiting for the end. He began to walk forward ready to at least look like he was playing his part, and as he did so he noted that Trick was still stood rooted too the spot untouched by the gun fire.

"VIVA LA MUERTE, VIVA PIKE", roared from 40 throat's and a torrent of vampires poured from the truck their machete gleaming in the light of an almost full moon. Like hungry wolves, they fell upon their prey, whirls of dust rose as the stricken vamps around Trick's feet died. He stared down as if he couldn't believe what was happening, none of the banditos touched him.

As the Mexicans scattered after fleeing minions, Spike joined his 'companeros'. They were shouting with the joy of their victory and for a while Spike felt the same euphoria, but it left him as what he dreaded would happen did. A vampire in a T-shirt and khaki pants staggered towards him, the minions left leg was blooded by a gunshot wound but it was his face that repulsed Spike a bullet had torn across it taking away the vampire's sight.

*Poor bastard*. Was all Spike could think as he grabbed the vampire by the shoulder, "Let me help you there mate", he said as he rammed his stake home. Stepping back to avoid the dust Spike said aloud, "Mercy killing, nobody can touch me for it".

Fragments of his conscience sent a message through though it registered loud and clear, *Sometimes Spike, me old mate, you can be a right git!*.

"Bravo Senor Gringo", a laughing bandit shouted in his ear, "The Hellmouth, it is ours, no?"

Spike put on the 'real sincere grin' his face was getting used to wearing, "Sure is amigo, there's no worries on that score".

The Mexican clapped him on the back and ran off looking for more of Trick's minions. Spike wandered back towards the truck before which Trick still stood, an actual smile on his face *The balls on the bloke.* He was looking around at Pikes companeros activities without any sign of fear, one professional admiring the work of another.

Pike came down from the back of the truck a shotgun in his hands, he'd taken off his suit coat and rolled his shirt sleeves up he was sporting the biggest smile Spike had ever seen him wear. Pike shook Dutch by the hand then embraced Angel before turning to face his captive. He tipped his hat to the former master of Sunnydale's vampires and said. "I take it you'd be Mr. Trick".

"Correct". Trick nodded in response. "And I assume you're Pike. I must I fear congratulate you on a very successful takeover bid, now of course in this moment of euphoria, I'd caution you not to make any mistakes you'll regret".

Pike pushed the brim of his Stetson up and turned to Dutch. "Did you understand a word of that?"

"Mr. Bishop its all bullshit to me". Dutch shrugged, "But I'll give him this - he has grit".

"Allow me to clarify my point". Trick was inwardly sweating but being a vampire has some advantages, "You've just secured a controlling interest in Sunnydale, but you're a century or so out of your depth, admit it". He saw an angry look starting to appear on Pikes face and realized this was gonna be a very tough sell. "I'm offering a merger, obviously you'd be the majority shareholder and I'd work simply as your adviser, whadda ya say, shall we shake on it?"

Pike and Dutch exchanged looks, Pike turned to Angel. "Didn't we always hate Lawyers and such when we we're alive?"

"Si patron". Angel nodded nonchalantly, he wanted to go check the bar for tequila and his children had six surviving Trick minions pinned to the roadhouse's wall, the conquerors 'spoils'. "Best get it over with, por favor".

Pike drew his peacemaker cocked it and shot Trick through the right kneecap, Trick barely cried out as he hit the ground, blood ran from his lips were he'd bit into them to keep from screaming at the pain. Determined not to beg, he went game faced as he growled, "I'll take that as a no then, ok let me have one minion who can drive and my car and you'll never see me again". He clutched his knee and stared at Pike as though challenging him to say no.

Pike holstered his gun. "You've got balls Trick, and you'd be back here the moment you had a crew to back you". Several of the bandito's began to close on Trick with machete's in their hands. "So my answer's no".

With that Pike set off for the door of the roadhouse almost as if Trick were forgotten, but he paused before he entered and over his shoulder shouted just one word "MATALO" before continuing on his way. Then the circle of vampires closed, Trick died with a sneer on his face rather than any trace of fear.

Spike had watched fascinated, *He didn't even gloat, I always gloat, it's a known vampire failing*, he thought back to Halloween two years before,*and a bloody stupid one*. Pike was beginning to annoy Spike intensely - after all, nobody likes a smart arse.

Dutch gave a rebel yell as he lead a charge of vampires into the roadhouse the captured minions dragged along with it, but Spike hung back till the lot was clear and then approached the remains of Mr Trick, "Well mate I always thought you were a gutless wanker in life, getting other people to do your fighting for you an all, but though I hate to eulogize, you died hard". Nodding to himself Spike went on. "Hope when my time comes again, I die as well as you did, mate".

Something in Trick's ashes caught the blond vampires eye and the toe of his doc martin sent ashes flying as he kicked Trick's remains around, a wallet. Spike picked it up and tore it open, credit cards and around $80 hard cash. "Cheers mate". He said as he pocketed the loot and started walking after the others, but paused his mind reflecting on not infrequent cinema trips for a suitable line. "I'll be seeing you down the trail".

Wesley broke away from Cordelia's mouth which he'd been busy kissing, "You know I'm certain I heard something".

*This is worse than dating Xander*, Cordelia almost swore, and reaching over turned up the volume on the cd player she'd insisted they have on. She was seriously pissed, it wasn't like she'd intended to go all the way with Wesley tonight, but for an 'older more experienced' guy, he was proving to have to firm a grip on his clothing for her liking.

"No, I didn't hear anything, I was concentrating on you, I'm so glad to find you were reciprocating, not!" Queen C hated the fact that he hadn't made any effort to adjust her clothing either, *God he's almost as repressed as Giles.* Well these days a girl can make the first moves, she reflected as her hands dropped to the hem of her sweater.

"Oh I say". Was all a red faced Wesley could gasp out as a black lace bra came into sight, his hand paused in its journey to wipe the steam from the front window and instead very carefully went to Cordy's waist and he closed to kiss her again. Though Cordelia's hopes were ultimately disappointed that was the last attention Wesley paid to his 'Sacred Duty' that night.


The vampires rapidly made themselves to home, Spike waited till the crush had died down then raided the bar looking for something to drink and smoke. The first was easy, the second it being Cali-bloody-fornia (land of the free if you don't smoke) was proving harder. But eventually he found carefully concealed and to his surprise a box of cigars.

"Cuban". He smiled as he opened the box. "Trick you were such a naughty boy". A quantity of the contraband disappeared into the dusters pockets.

"You gonna take all of those son". The bars only other occupant said but without animosity.

"Certainly not el jefe". Spike replied in a ‘you're the boss but not necessarily my social superior tone of voice.' He slid the box towards Pike, who was standing on the customer side of the bar with a bottle and a shot glass. Two empty blood bags lay between them, they'd dined on it warm this time, Trick having thoughtfully provided a microwave.

"I'm surprised a young buck like you isn't over there with the others, enjoying the fun". Pike nodded towards the clubs stage as he picked himself out a Havana.

"Nah", Spike shook his head dismissively as he struggled to light his cigar. "I've had to put up with sloppy seconds a few times, but there are limits, mate, and what they're up to's way beyond mine".

The six captured minions were being gang raped by Pike's companeros, the five male vampires were perhaps luckier than the one surviving vampiress, they were only having to service two Mexican vamps at a time not three. Spike watched dispassionately as Dutch pistoned into a vampire he'd thrown over a table. The vampire would have been screaming if Angel weren't just as busy with his mouth.

"What about you though mate?" Spike asked his leader (temporary), as he puffed at his now lit cigar thinking *this is the life*. "Shouldn't you be up there the Master Vampire of the Hellmouth demonstrating his authority?"

"Spike, do you seriously think this battles over?" Pike poured himself a shot of whiskey and gave his cigar a bit of a chaw. "The Slayers are the real danger, I'll let the boys raise a little hell, but my head stays clear".

He looked on as Dutch shouted out in orgasm, "Those vamps are gonna be used up pretty damn quick, we may have to see what else Sunnydale has to offer".

Spike had an evil thought, *being good for Buffy will be so boring*, "Tell you what mate, do you want me to see if I can steal a copy of this years High School and College year books?"

Though he thought hard about it Pike soon shook his head no. "There'll be time enough for that later, once you've had a couple of drinks, go into town. I'll trust you alone these, boys are too drunk to go with you. Find out all the information on the Slayers you can and tell every vampire you see to be here within 24 hours to bow to me or to get out of my town".

Pike looked up and the stage Angel and Dutch where temporarily sated and drinking from blood bags and whiskey bottles their places taken by others further down the pecking order. "And son, that particulary applies to young vamps, ones who ain't as hard looking without their game faces as Trick's leftovers".

"Certainly boss". Spike just knocked back one glass of the whiskey he'd found, after the way he'd carried on over the past few months, he didn't trust himself with more. Still smoking the cigar, he headed for the door, *What a bloody lucky break* he thought *Check on the Slayer, and on my own. How trusting the bloke is*. He headed for the lot. "Wonder if I should hot-wire one of Trick's motors?" he asked himself aloud then grinned as he drew the truck keys from his pocket.

As he looked up at the grill work on the front of his rig, Spike threw his head back and laughed, "This is gonna be such fun".

. Spike had 'put the pedal to the metal' just a quarter of an hour later a 'Welcome To Sunnydale' sign in tiny fragments behind him, he was heading the truck for the northeast of town to see Sunnydale equivalent to a tourist information officer. He parked near the burned out old factory he'd once resided in and headed for the Alibi Room, keeping a sharp eye open for Slayers.

As he reached the door he pondered, game face or not, not, then walked in. The place wasn't too crowded, a few vamps gave him sharp glances, some went a little paler as they recognized him, others just turned back to pints of blood they were drinking. Willy had his back turned to the door, giving some glasses the perfunctory wipe that passed for cleaning in his establishment. It took Spike a few seconds to take in what was different about him. *A neck brace, bloody hell he must really have pissed Buffy off this time*.

As Spike crept up behind him, Willy's senses, attuned as they were becoming to impending beatings, kicked in, he dropped the glass and his hand went below the bar. Too late though, Spike wrenched his arm back up and slammed his hand onto the bar.

"Willy old mate, it's so good to see you again," Spike growled, wearing his best ‘piss me off and I'll rip your throat out' look. "You're an absolute wreck, old son. Tell me who did it so I can go shake her hand".

Willy's eyes where blackened, his nose looked broken and his jaw was wired, "Spirrke", he tried to say, "Wirt are yrr douing heere?"

The blond vampire reached out his other hand and snatched the note pad and pencil from Willy's belt, (occasionally strangers to the town ordered food in Willy's establishment, repeat business was rare), "For fucks sake write it down, I don't have all night and a face full of your saliva's an appalling thought even for me".

The snitch looked on the pencil like it might bite him, write stuff down! Snitching is all very well but written evidence can come back to haunt you. Willy very gingerly shook his head. "Spirrke, Irrl terll yrr wirtt yrr warrnt, nar wrritting thoughee, carrpicce".

Spike smiled and put on his game face, grabbing Willy by the neck brace and his shirt and hauled him up over the bar, ignoring Willy's garbled screams of pain he shouted in his ear, "Do you see those boots, big aren't they? Either you use your fingers for writing or I'll stamp on the buggers for you. Well mate, what's it to be?"

The frantic garbled sounds Willy made "Garkey, garkey, garkey". Seemed promising so Spike so he let the Snitch drop in a pain filled heap on the far side of the bar. The vampire glanced round him, none of the Alibi's clientele were it seemed in any hurry to come to come to Willy's assistance. *Reputation still in tact*, Spike thought relaxing back into his human visage.

He moved around the bar towards Willy who looked up at him fearfully his hand again going under the counter.

"Oh none of that, you little sod", Spike shouted and kicked the snitch in the right knee, the snitch's hands both grabbed the source of his pain as he again tried a cry of pain.

"What have you got under here then young Will", he asked as he bent down to look under the counter but then recoiled sharply and stepped back. "A bloody crucifix, you were gonna pull a crucifix on me". Spikes boot thudded home a couple of times more. "Get up you bastard", he grabbed Willy by the arm and hauled him to his feet.

"Pencil and pad and write". Spike said. Willy slumped in defeat and took the pencil in a trembling hand.

"So who beat you up?"

'Seth Gecko'.

"Oh what a nasty nasty man and by the way your handwritings crap. The Slayers, are they both in town?"

'Sure, Buffy slapped me around just last week'.

(Pause whilst he moves to next sheet of paper).

'I'm within an ace of getting Faith to pose'.

Spikes eyebrow rose at that one, he growled low and disgusted. "Willy, I ever catch you making Buffy offers like that and I'll nail your hands to this bar and let every vamp in town shag you".

'Hey a guys gotta eat, there's goo..'.

Spike tore the paper away. "Gecko he drinks here right".

'Yeah, the ungrateful bastard'.

"Look you little bugger, I'm not after conversation here". Spikes clenched fist appeared under Willy's nose. "Just stick to the facts. He drinks here and he spills info right?"


Spike hated the words he was about to utter, and he whispered them low so none of the clientele would here. "Is he shagging Buffy?"


"Look mate, piss me about and I'll kill you, is he shagging her?"

Willy was confused and shit scared, but began to write. Spike hadn't held his breath in centuries but he did so now.

'Ok, so Gecko boozes here'

'I'm a bartender I hear all sorts of crap'.

Spike growled claws began to replace his finger nails.

'Ok, cool it I'm just setting the mood..'

'Sometimes he used to say how...'

'He loved Buffy, how he thought that she loved him...'

'It got as he talked about her more and more..'

'Then he stops coming in here...'

Spike felt those cold fingers round his heart again.

'For about three weeks.."

The fingers relaxed.

'Then god does he drink...'

'She knows who I am, he says..'

'She'll slay with me but that's all..'

'He got real depressing...'

'So I sold him out'.

"To Trick". Spike filled in letting out a metaphorical sign of relief. "Well Willy that wasn't too painful was it, anyway I must dash places to go, people to see". But first he had a job to do, after giving Willy a playful punch on the nose to remind him about crucifixes Spike jumped up onto the bar.

"Ok people listen up, Trick's dead and the new master vampire of Sunnydale requests your attendance at a Soiree he's having at the Roadhouse west on I-17. Dress is optional, cause quite frankly, if you piss him off, you won't be wearing it long".

There were a mixture of fearful and ambitious glances being thrown at him, Spike admired the common sense in the former and pitied the latter. *The lubricated and the unlubricated as it were*. "Anyone failing to attend within 24 hours should be aware that the Slayers aren't the only ones in this town with stakes".

Noticing that a bleeding Willy the snitch was looking fearfully at the pieces of paper Spike seemed about to leave with. The vampire dropped them on the bar. "Stick em in the stew mate, no one will notice. And be more careful Willy, can't you there's all sorts of violent characters could walk in here any time".

With a self satisfied grin at his brethren's confused and fear filled faces he was out of there. A glance at his watch revealed he had at least four hours of darkness left yet. *Ok, find Buffy, turn collaborator, betray my own kind and launch step one of my attempted seduction of my former mortal enemy*.

Out in the alley he was about to set off in a fast run towards Weatherly Park there to begin his Slayer search when the clicking of stilettoes made him turn to see a not unattractive sight approaching.

She was a brunette tall and slender, looking about seventeen or so in a white tee and a tiny blue skirt which combined with white ankle socks and black stilettoes at the end of long legs made her the greatest danger to adolescent boys in Sunnydale since Darla had met her demise. Not Spike reflected that Joy had anything like the class Darla had possessed, *Pity Angelus was such a hog, only a brief stolen moment or two to warm the memory, ah well*. Joy was pure trailer trash, but the sight of the fresh faced vampiress (turned in her teens now in her sixties) made an evil plan begin to form in his mind.

Joy's path had crossed his a few times over the years and her advances had always been rejected due to Dru, now he needed to know if she still had a yen for him. So Spike drew out a cigar bit off the ends and lit up all nonchalant.

"Why Spike, what are you all doing here?" Joy almost sighed in her finest southern belle accent. "And ain't you just a sight for sore eyes, all fine and handsome in that big old coat".

"Hullo pet, fancy seeing you here". Spike replied as calmly as possible while faced with a barely clothed vampiress who's fingers are running over the front of a tiny skirt she could rip off at any second. "I was hoping to run into you luv".

Joy tried to look coy and failed, her right hand gently came to rest on Spike's chest whilst her left went to her hip. "Oh baby, do you know how long I've waited to here you say that? Lets go up behind the bins".

*Oi mate, concentrate don't be getting carried away here*. Spike mentally battled against a gathering erection and won. "You'll get all the Spike you can take later, pet, but first, could you do me a favor?" he gently halted her right hand's journey south. "There's a pal of mine just come to town, he's killed poor old Trick and is running the show now. How would you like to go give him the famous Joy welcome?"

Joy pouted a little, but she'd fed already and a party was a party. Plus if she a good 'Spiking' to look forward to, what did it matter what she did for the rest of tonight? "So Trick's dead, it's a pity cause he liked me. But then, don't you all". She smoothed her skirt down. "So were's our new Master at?"

After Spike gave her the address, she tripped off, blowing him a kiss and giving him an ass flash he could have done without. Then he ditched the cigar and set off running, wishing he had brought less conspicuous transport and could drive. However as vampire's don't need to breath he made swift progress.

*Well I always wondered if those old Prize Fighters were right back in the thirties (1830's) about not having sex before the big fight, so lets call Joy an experiment. See how Pike's brain works after she tries to kill him with kindness*. As his feet pounded pavement, the blond couldn't help the tears of laughter that ran down his face.