Title: Seeing green
Summary: Companion to 'Leprechauns': Buffy runs into Spike while looking for the Leprechaun Willow claimed to see and finds a lot more than she bargained for.
Characters: Buffy, Spike, (Willow/Giles)
Word count: 2561
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to BTVS or its characters
Feedback: It is always greatly appreciated.
Spike was stumbling around the tombstones, as he made his way back to his crypt; a nearly empty bottle of whisky was clutched tightly in his hand; it was St. Patrick's day and instead of imbibing that watered down, green dyed swill that all the college kids were gulping down, Spike chose to go for the more traditional Irish drink.
He was on his second bottle of Jack Daniel's, and he was feeling the effects; but, still no mattered how impaired his senses were, he could still manage to pick up the scent of the Slayer.
A wicked smirk curved his lips upward; what better way to end his night, then going and messin' with the Slayer?
He came up behind her, looked her up and down; she wasn't wearing a stitch of green. His lips pulled back and he continued toward her.
Buffy's eyes widened when she felt the little pinch on her backside; she whirled around and tackled her assailant. The fury in her eyes intensified when she saw the platinum blond vampire beneath her.
"What. In .The. Hell. Do. You. Think. You. Are .Doing?" she raged.
Spike's cool blue eyes looked up at her completely unphased. "What?" he returned casually. "You aren't wearin' green. It's St. Paddy's day; rule says you gotta where green or else. . ."
Buffy's eyes narrowed as she gripped the stake in her hand with such force splinters dug into her palm. She itched to plunge it into Spike's chest. But she reminded herself it was wrong to kill helpless creatures; the reminder of Spike's helplessness brightened her mood slightly.
She sighed. Well, killing him may be out of the question, but. . .
She punched him in the nose, the connection eliciting a sickening crunch.
"Bloody hell!" Spike cried, covering his nose.
With a satisfied little smile, Buffy hefted herself off the vampire.
After a moments recovery, Spike got himself to his feet. "So," he wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, "out lookin' for big bads tonight, are we?"
Buffy closed her eyes in irritation; if Spike was still here after Buffy hitting him, it wasn't likely she was going to get rid of him.
"No actually," she replied. "I'm looking for some little baddies."
Spike's brow pulled together at the remark. "Eh?"
Buffy sighed; she didn't like dealing with the vampire, but she saw him as a somewhat necessary evil—emphasis on the evil—now that he was chipped, he may not be able to partake in the killing of humans. But he still had his finger on the unbeating pulse of the underworld.
Ugh, whatever. Doesn't hurt to ask him, I guess.
"Listen, Spike," she began with exasperation, "Willow said she saw something earlier and I need to know if you've seen anything— or know anything— about it."
Spike's brows rose and he sucked in his cheeks. "Oh, yeah? And what'll you give me if I do?"
"How about the pleasure of remaining a solid?" she countered, holding up her stake.
Spike rolled his eyes with sneer. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell ya what ya wanna know or you'll kill me; play a new tune Slayer." He sighed. "So, what's it Red saw, then?"
Buffy's face scrunched. "Well, she thinks at least, that it was . . . a Leprechaun."
"A Leprechaun?" he asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. He tried to play it off by scoffing. "What you mean like wee little green blokes looking for pots of gold? That's ridiculous. No such thing as Leprechauns."
Buffy's eyes narrowed dubiously. She hadn't missed Spike's anxiety. "Oh really?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you sure of that?"
" 'Corse," Spike insisted. "Everybody knows that."
"What, you mean like everybody knows that vampires aren't real?" she dryly rejoinder. "Cut the crap Spike. I can tell when you are up to something. You know something. Spill."
Spike huffed indignantly. "I don't know a bloody thing, Slayer."
Buffy smirked. "Well, I hate to argue with a solid argument like that. But I still think something's up with you." She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"Yeah, so what if I do know somethin'?" Spike replied with petulant. "Don't mean I gotta tell you." With that he started to stalk off, as gracefully as his drunk legs would allow.
Buffy rolled her eyes at the back of the staggering vampire; she would be more than happy to see him walk away if she wasn't positive that he had info on Willow's Leprechaun.
"Hey!" she barked, lurching after him.
Spike whirled around on her. "I ain't gotta do what you bloody– " Spike's words cut off as his eyes went wide at something behind Buffy. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. "Bloody hell," he muttered.
Buffy's brow pinched. "What?"
"You!" A high pitched voice cried. Buffy turned toward it, and her eyes bugged looking at what she was seeing. She goggled speechlessly. Despite Willow's claims she had had a few doubts about the Leprechauns existence. But now that the three foot tall man with bright orange hair wearing green suit replete with hat and black shoes with gold buckles, she couldn't deny it.
"Holy," she murmured once she found words again. After she got over the initial shock, she smiled, thinking the little guy was actually kind of cute and couldn't imagine what kind of threat he could pose.
That was until his little legs started moving and he ran strait for Spike, tackling the vampire.
"You slimeball!" the Leprechaun screeched, his little fist pelting Spike.
"Oi! Get off!" The vampire struggled to get the little man off of him.
Buffy slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
"Little help would be nice 'ere, Slayer," he gritted.
With that the dam burst and Buffy was laughing uncontrollably. "A 'little' help," she wheezed.
Spike growled and finally managed to scramble out from under the munchkin and to his feet. The Leprechaun came at him again immediately. But this time Spike was ready and grabbed the small man by his collar, hoisting him off the ground. His arms flailed and his little legs kicked.
Buffy thought the poor thing looked pathetic and was ready to yell at Spike to let him go, when one of its feet connected with Spike's crotch. The vampire screamed and dropped the Leprechaun.
"I've been wanting to do that for years," Buffy remarked.
Spike was on his knees, holding his hurt manhood. "Help me!" Spike rasped.
Buffy rolled her eyes, again reminding herself that Spike was helpless, and stepped in between him and the once again advancing tiny man.
"All right," she said firmly, putting her hand on the Leprechaun's head. "What's the problem here?"
"That scum sucking, thief is my problem!" he squealed, pointing his stubby little finger at Spike. "That maggot stole me pot 'o gold!"
Did he really just say that? Buffy bit her lip. This couldn't be happening.
"That's a lie!" Spike spat back indignant. "I didn't take anythin' from you!"
"You did so, ya bastard!" he shouted. "Let me at 'im, Slayer," he flailed to get passed Buffy.
"Kiss my Blarney stones, wee one!"
The Leprechaun's face turned tomato red. "I'm goin' to kill ye, ya rat bastard!"
"Hold on," Buffy coaxed, turning to Spike. "Spike, give him back his gold," she ordered.
Spike huffed, sounding affronted. "I told you. I didn't take it."
"Yeah, and nobody's buying that. If..." —she looked down at the Leprechaun— "what's your name?"
"Murphy Miss," he replied politely. "Murphy O'Toole."
"It's nice to meet you Murphy," she replied. "I'm Buffy Summers."
"The Slayer," Murphy said. "Yes I know."
"Right. Well," she looked back to Spike, "if Murphy says you took his gold, then I believe him. So..."
Spike made an offended noise. "You just met 'im and you take his word over mine? After all we've been through?"
"You mean your many attempts on my life and the lives of my loved ones?" Buffy countered. "Yeah, that right; I trust him over you, because I KNOW YOU! So if you don't fess up and give the man back his property, then I'll just let him go and let him deal with you in his own way."
"Oh, yes, miss, I like the sound of tha' very much," Murphy remarked,
"All right, all right!" Spike shouted, holding up his hands. "I'll give 'im back his bloody gold."
"Good." Buffy looked at Murphy and slowly took her hand down. "Are we good."
"We'll be grand, miss. As soon as I be gettin' back what's mine."
"Fair enough." She looked coldly at Spike, eyebrows up in expectation. "Well?"
"It's at my crypt," Spike grumbled. "Come on."
"Oh, would you quit pouting!" Buffy cried later as she and Spike came up to Giles' to inform the Watcher the Leprechaun situation was taken care of. "It's not like you really lost something; it wasn't your gold to begin with. You stole it."
"Yeah and?" Spike countered. "How else do you expect me to make a unlivin' eh? If I relied solely on you lot offerin' me a tuppence here an' there for helpin' you out, I'd bleedin' starve to death!"
Buffy rolled her eyes as she pushed open the door to Giles' flat. She was surprised to find no one in the living room. "Giles? Willow? I'm back!" she called out. "I found the Leprechaun."
Spike came in the door behind the Slayer; his brow pulled together as he caught a familiar– and surprising scent. A slow wolfish grin spread across his mouth. Well, well, well, way to go Rupes! Didn't think the of' fuddy-duddy woulda had it in 'im.
A noise sounded from upstairs and Buffy's head snapped in that direction; she was on full alert. She took off for the stairs. Spike was on her heels; no way was he going to miss the fireworks.
"Giles? Willow?" Buffy called again as she ascended the stairs, her voice frantic. Without hesitation she busted into Giles' room. She stopped when she saw her Watcher and her best friend, unharmed but looking flustered.
"Hey Buffy!" Willow chirped, her voice sounded like she'd been sucking helium balloons.
"Yes, uh, hello there, Buffy," said Giles. "We didn't expect you back so soon." He looked over Buffy's shoulder to the vampire standing there. His brow pulled down in a frown. "Spike," he said coolly.
"Rupert," Spike carolled, barely able to contain himself.
"What on earth is he doing here?" he asked Buffy.
"He . . . helped me," she said the term loosely, "with the Leprechaun."
Willow's eyes widened. "You mean you actually found one?" She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth as she realised the surprise in her voice. "I-I uh, I meant, oh you found him. Good."
Buffy took a step closer to her friend, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "Willow," she said.
"Hmm?" Willow squeaked.
"Is your shirt inside out?"
Willow looked down at herself; indeed her shirt was on inside out. "Oh that!" She gave a high pitched, nervous laugh. "That's um, because of . . . well, you know because of the Leprechaun. Yeah. Because if they're real who knows what else is, and I read that wearing your close inside out protects you from fairies."
"Fairies?" Buffy repeated slowly.
Willow nodded fervently wearing a tight maniacal grin. "It's true!" she squawked. "Right, Giles?"
"Erm," he floundered. "Y-yes. Indeed. In folklore it has been said that wearing ones clothing inside out does in fact. . ." His words trailed off as he looked up at his Slayers face; she wasn't buying any of this.
Buffy looked from her best friend in her unusual state of dress to her usually kempt Watcher; his hair was mussed and he wasn't wearing his glasses. Her eyes then went to the disarrayed bed and understanding dawned. "Oh god," she groaned.
Spike was tickled as he watched the Slayer(slowly) catch on; her skin took on a slightly greenish tint. Now she's gettin' into the holiday spirit. He noted silently amused.
"Buffy," Willow entreated taking a step toward her friend.
"Oh god," Buffy said again, horrified. "Oh no." She was shaking her head side to side. "I'm gonna be sick." With that she spun around and flew out of the room.
Spike chuckled. He thought about the pot of gold the Slayer had cost him and wondered if he'd trade it for the look on her face when she realised her best mate and surrogate father were shagging. Nope, he decided. It was worth every last coin. Well, next to last anyway. . . "Red," he said with a nod to Willow, "Rupert. It's been a pleasure. Now I best go an' check on the Slayer. I wouldn't want to miss her heavin' her guts out. Happy humping." With that he turned around and went after Buffy.
"Oi, Slayer!" he called jogging up behind her. "Hold on!"
"Spike," she gritted, "if you value at all your miserable excuse for an existence, I would advise you to not mess with me right now."
"I ain't tryin' to mess with you," he assured. "I figured after what you just saw back there, you might be needin' a good stiff one."
Buffy froze and glared at him in disgust. He clucked his tongue. "A drink," he elaborated. "I thought you might me needin' a drink."
Buffy considered; sure her past experience with alcohol had proved disastrous, but what were the chances of anything like that happening again. And really, if there was anytime where drinking would be warranted, it was now.
Spike could see the waring of her resolve in her face. "What d'ya say, Slayer, lemme by you a green beer, eh?"
"I thought you didn't have any money," Buffy challenged.
"Yeah . . . well . . ." Spike stuck his hand in his pocket and produced a single gold coin.
"You kept that?" Buffy was aghast. "You were supposed to give it all back to Murphy."
"Oh come on! It's one little coin. He ain't gonna miss it. You saw how big that pot was!"
Buffy thought about that; it had been a rather big cauldron. She supposed one coin wasn't going to be missed. "All right fine," she relented, "one beer."
What could it hurt?
Buffy woke up the next morning feeling like she had a dozen Leprechauns dancing the jig in her head. Her mouth was dry and her stomach churning. She couldn't believe how many of those green beers she had had the night before. She really had meant to only have one. But the more she drank the farther her memory of Willow and Giles seemed to float away and before she knew it, she and Spike had shared four pitchers.
She slowly cracked open her eyes, cautious knowing that the light would be painful. To her relief her surroundings were very dim, as if the room were only lit by candlelight.
Uh, weird, she registered. But her hangover addled brain couldn't comprehend beyond that. All she cared about at the moment was emptying her overflowing bladder. She tossed her blanket off her and slid off the cool silk sheets and got to her feet.
Wait a minute. She froze, realising something more was off. Silk sheets? I don't have silk sheets. She whirled around to look down at the bed she had just been in and took in a sharp, shocked breath seeing the stark naked platinum blond vampire.
Oh. My. God!