*****

With a jaw cracking yawn, Spike stretched like a cat in the soft warm nest of blankets and pillows he was snuggled in and then reached out with his arm to grab the pack of cigarettes lying on the beat up old end table. Feeling lazy and mellow and not really caring that Xander would have a conniption if he caught Spike smoking in bed, the bleached blonde vampire opened the pack and peered in.

Empty.

"Bloody 'ell. What a way to wake up. No bloody Xander to cuddle me and no bloody smokes either. I hate my unlife sometimes."

With a huge put-upon sigh of self pity, Spike pushed the blankets aside and dragged himself out of his warm happy spot to stomp his feet across the cold floor. With a nicotine deprived snarl, he grabbed his duster and began rifling through it's many and varied pockets looking for a fresh pack of smokes.

Switchblade.

Comb.

Lint-ball and a pack of matches.

He carefully set the pack of matches on the small kitchen table. They would be needed once he found his smokes. He went back to pocket searching.

Deck of cards.

Money... two twenty's, a five and seven one's. Plus change.

Spike carefully set the money down on the table next to his matches.

Dead drained-dry rat.

The vampire turned the small furry corpse over in his hand and wondered what the bloody hell he'd been thinking when he decided to keep it. Finally, with a shrug of confusion, he lobbed the thing in the general direction of the trash can. He didn't watch to see if it made it. He went back to the all important cigarette hunt.

Half a pack of Xander's cherry Bubble Yum.

Keys on a key-ring that says 'Don't worry. It only seems kinky the first time.'

Walmart receipt from when he bought that extra soft fluffy blanket he liked to snuggle with his Xander under.

Two beer bottle caps and the phone number of some silly git that took a fancy to him at the Bronze.

And *no* cigarettes.

Just to make sure, Spike went through all of his duster's pockets again. And then a third time. Finally, with a snarl of frustration, he threw his duster back onto the chair and glared at it. How was a bloke supposed to wander through unlife with a smile when he couldn't bite humans, his Xander-pillow was at work and he *didn't have any bloody smokes*!

Muttering and stomping his feet like a little kid who was told he couldn't have any candy, Spike pouted his way over to the mini-fridge and pulled out a bag of blood. He poured it into a large coffee mug that announced 'I am not nice' and zapped it in the microwave.

=BEEP=

Spike reached in and pulled out the now steaming cup of blood and wrapped his fingers around it. He pulled it up to his face and breathed in the aroma deeply before taking a small sip. He savored the rich and lovely texture and taste of that small sip before allowing it to slide down his throat. A small grin broke out on his face as he remembered his Xander telling him he looked like a coffee commercial when he did that. He chugged the remainder of the blood in a few swift swallows. Ahhhh... good to the last drop.

He stood there a moment debating about whether he should indulge in a second cup or not when the need for nicotine rose up in him once again. It was stronger now that his belly was full... or at least closer to full. With a grimace, the vampire quickly rinsed his cup in the small sink and then headed to the shower. He needed to get cleaned up so he could go out to where his Xander-toy was working and buy some smokes. It could prove to be a fun diversion as well as a way to get some cigarettes, but first, he'd have to wash the crusted layer of Xander's semen off of his chest.

~~~~

Spike drove the beat-up oil-burning old Desoto with the blacked out windows at what his Xander would call 'excessive speeds' while Rob Zombie's Living Dead Girl (TM) blasted from his multiple speakers at the loudest possible volume. Spike loved driving and he was in an excellent mood. Not being able to stop himself, he began to sing along with the lyrics.

"Bloooood on her skin. Dripppping with siiiiiin. Doooooo it again. Living Dead Girl!"

Giggling at the lovely images the words conjured in his nicotine deprived brain, Spike swerved violently into the parking lot of the Circle K with the squeal of brakes and a cloud of acrid black smoke. He aimed his huge vehicle at a series of parking spots that held a group of teens on skateboards and they scattered like a flock of spooked pigeons at his vicious approach. Spike skidded sideways into a teeth rattling stop that somehow managed to get his car perfectly in between two of the spray painted yellow lines and then he slammed the gear shift into neutral and turned off the engine. Grinning like a maniac, he climbed out of the car to a bunch of shouted curses and expletives from the displaced teens.

"Sod off ya wankers! Bloody good reflexes though. Pity, you'd all look mighty pretty with your brains splattered across me windshield. Maybe next time, eh ducks?"

Maniacal grin firmly in place, Spike sauntered past the sputtering angry teenagers and yanked open the door to the Circle K. Harsh florescent lighting filled the place, reflecting off of soda cans, candy wrappers and glossy magazine covers. Ignoring the call of pop- culture trash and the frowning face of the Circle K's fussy manager, Spike stalked directly to the cashier's counter and his lover. Xander had one eyebrow raised up and his expression was *trying* to be a frown, but Spike could tell he was really just on the edge of smiling like a love-struck fool. Spike's grin grew wider. His pet could never resist his charming ways, even if he would never admit it outside of their bed.

Standing in front of the counter, Spike reached across and grabbed a handful of bright orange shirt and pulled Xander halfway across it. Without a pause, he leaned over the rest of the way and mashed his lips against his lovers. One deep, wet and possessive kiss later, he pulled back and let go. Smirking at the slightly dazed glossy eyed expression on his Xander's face, Spike gently smoothed out the wrinkles he'd created on his lover's shirt.

"Still think that's the ugliest shirt I've ever had the misfortune to lay my eyes on, luv. Gimme some smokes, would'ja pet?"

Dazed expression still firmly in place, Xander reached up to the over head cigarette case and mindlessly pulled out two packs of Spikes favorite brand. Ignoring the sputtering and gasping Circle K manager as he quickly made his way over, Spike grabbed up one of the packs and tore into it. Pulling out a cigarette, he jammed it in his mouth and began to rifle through his many pockets.

"Matches, matches, matches... Where'd I put those bloody matches?"

Suddenly, a hand holding a lit lighter was in front of him and he didn't even pause as he tipped his head to engulf the end of his cigarette into the flame. Taking a deep drag, lovely acrid nicotine drenched smoke filled his dead lungs. Pleasure and relief coursed through him and he sighed. Turning to see who had lit his smoke, he was faced with a grinning,... no make that a *smirking* Xander.

"Hey! Can I help it if these bloody things are addictive? Believe me when I say that I started this habit *way* before those silly 'Just say no' ads were invented."

Suddenly, Spike felt his arm being grabbed by some mortal who reeked of Old Spice (TM) cologne. Raising his scared eyebrow up, he turned his head to see his Xander's manager scowling at him with a beat red face. Spike wondered if his implanted chip would go off if he managed to piss the idiot off enough to cause him to stroke out. Growling, he yanked his arm out of the man's grasp.

"Hands off ya bloody pouf! Who do you think you are, the bloody Queen of England?"

The man's face got impossibly redder and a large vein in his forehead began to throb. Spike didn't know if he wanted to laugh in the man's face or just rip it off. Both ideas sounded good, but the chip would only allow one. So, he laughed. A dark menacing chuckle.

"Look here. I don't care what you do to this... this..."

The manager of the Circle K waved his hand vaguely in Xander's direction.

"...idiot fagot on his *own* time, but when he's in here, he's *mine*! So keep you're hands off of him in my store. I won't have any of that queer shit going on around here. Do you understand me? Or are you too stupid to get what I'm saying?"

Reacting to the words without stopping to think of the consequences, Spike slipped into his gameface with a growl and shoved the mortal as hard as he could. The man slammed backwards into a rack of candy bars and bubble gum with a deafening crash. Intense white agony flared in his head as the implanted chip activated. Dropping his cigarette, Spike clutched at his head with both hands and howled in pain. Shudders ran through his body and his knees collapsed under him. His vision swirled violently and he clenched his eyes shut against it.

Slowly, the pain began to fade away. A familiar voice echoed in his ears and the sensation of vertigo left him like the receding tide. Warily, he cracked open one eye.

His beautiful Xander was standing over the prone manager of the Circle K yelling at the top of his lungs about bigots, personal freedom, and idiots who attacked his lover. Spike smiled through the pain when Xander lashed out with his foot and planted a solid kick to the man's ribs. Grinning as Xander tore off the ugly orange Circle K shirt and announced that he quit, Spike started rummaging around on the floor scooping up fallen chocolates and bubble gum. Shoving his misbegotten booty into various pockets of his duster, he then stood up and went for some more smokes out of the cigarette rack. Plenty of smokes in hand, he turned to empty out the cash register. Once his pockets were stuffed full of loot, Spike turned back to his lover and the cowering manager who was still laying on the floor.

"Come on pet. Let's get out of here. The night is young and we could be killing things."

For a second, he thought that his Xander was going to argue and continue to pummel his ex-boss, but then he pulled himself together and stomped out the door past Spike. The vampire grinned. His pet was always *so* much fun when he let his anger get the best of him. Turning back once, he waved a jaunty goodbye to the Circle K's beaten manager.

"'ave a lovely evening, ya bloody poof."

With that, Spike sauntered out of the store and into the parking lot. The teens were still there, but this time they didn't yell any curses or taunts at him. Instead, they just stared with morbid fascination as he climbed back into the old Desoto next to Xander. Sticking the key in the ignition, he started up the car in a cloud of black oily smoke and the grinding thumbing sounds of Rob Zombie (TM). Skipping first gear completely, Spike slammed it into second and roared out of the lot, narrowly missing hitting the scattering teenagers for a second time in under ten minutes.

He grinned an evil grin. Unlife was good.

END