I'm Not Bloody Well Wearing Tights

Part One

ààààà

"Great. Just fan-bloody-tastic," swore Spike as he wandered along the muddy path. He was in olde England, he knew it was olde with an e from the smell of the last individual he'd fed on as well as the general stench and primitive settings he was wandering in. The whole place smelt of wet earth and animals. The track he was following was soggy mud coupled with great big pats of horse and oxen manure, something that did not belong to good old Sunnyhell. His boot landed with a sickening squelch in a large steaming pile of horseshit and Spike clenched his fists and ground his teeth together. "I am going to fucking kill her..."

It had to be Red's doing, he was sure of that, fooling around with her magic and sending him to this godforsaken place. The only good thing about his situation at the moment was that he could actually bite people, something he'd taken advantage of at least five times so far. He'd forgotten how much fun mindless violence against humans could be, sinking his fangs deep into their throats, the hot agitated blood bubbling forth and spilling into his mouth, it was enough to make him drool.

"Damn, now I'm hungry again..." he mumbled to himself shaking his boot free of the offending manure and glancing around the forest area. Frowning he listened carefully, the soft sounds of human grunts and moans coupled with broad swords clanging together reached his ears. He smirked and rubbed his hands together, heading off in the general direction of the sound of fighting. "Now this could be fun..."

It was fun in the form of various groups of mortals fighting. One group appeared to be general forest trash, dressed in plain clothes dominated by green. The other group wore staid uniforms and were fighting badly. Spike decided he didn't want to be on the losing side so started beating the crap out of the uniforms before quickly draining them dry. As he made his way to the heart of the fight he could clearly hear the conversation taking place in time with the rapiers blows.

"You sir, are nothing more than an obnoxious bore with bad breeding," a pounce announced as his blade connected with that of a dark haired man. "And when King Richard returns you and your kind will be dealt with..."

"Robin, me lad, the thing about the righteous is they're often wrong and prone to becoming the martyr due to their early deaths..."

Spike stopped dead in his tracks, the voice sending shivers through him. It couldn't be...he shook his head as soon as the denial popped up, anything was possible here, including the fact that his sire Angelus was currently engaged in a sword fight and not too witty banter with a man in green tights. Spike moaned and rolled his eyes, attracting the attention of both fighters. Sure enough there in front of him was Angelus.

Hatred and anger bubbled forth and Spike launched himself at his sire, sending them both crashing into the mud. As soon as they hit the ground Spike heard someone holler 'retreat' and from the corner of his eye saw the uniformed men running until Angelus hit him. Time and time again Spike's fist collided with the dark haired vampires face as they both struggled for grip in the slimy mud. With a feral roar of rage Angelus' fist struck out, catching Spike across the temple and knocking him back into the mud. Kicking out at his sire Spike struggled to find purchase on the slippery surface finally making it to his feet just as his muddied sire did. Angelus drew back his sword and swung it forward. Spike ducked as the blade slashed through the air, humming and zinging with the amount of force Angelus put behind the blow.

"Bloody hell," muttered Spike glancing up from his lowered position to see Angelus grinning like a maniac. Behind them all hell broke loose as Angelus threw back his head and roared with laughter. Cautiously Spike glanced over his shoulder to see the decapitated corpse of the man his sire had previously been engaged in battle with. From various hiding places men appeared, screaming out and sobbing, gathering around the bleeding corpse. Suddenly Angelus grabbed his duster and dragged him in close.

"Well me lad, you'll keep for another time..." Angelus snarled and shoved Spike back unceremoniously dumping him in the mud on his butt. By the time Spike looked up his sire was gone. Grabbing a handful of mud he threw it at the empty space where his sire had once stood.

"Bloody pounce!" he swore, squirming in the slippery mud, trying to gain his footing. A hand reached out and wrapped about his arm, hauling him to his feet. Automatically he struck out at his helper landing a good solid punch, knocking the man and himself to the ground. "Bloody mud!"

Spike rolled and got to his feet once more only to come face to face with a dozen crossbows aimed at him. Cocking an eyebrow he raised his hands, one crossbow he could handle...a dozen was a death sentence.

"Come on mates, no need for violence," he said trying to get at least eleven to lower so he could massacre the whole lot of them.

"Yes well, you have a point...although you did hit me first," stated a very familiar voice from somewhere near his feet. Spike looked down at the man in green sprawled at his feet, frowned and then sighed in relief.

"Giles! What the bloody hell's going on here?" he asked about to bend down and ring the blighter's neck when the crossbows creaked and moved forward. Immediately Spike straightened up, keeping his arms raised as someone helped Giles to his feet. Spike couldn't help but note that Giles really shouldn't wear green tights and a silly little tunic top, it exposed everything, especially with his legs spread. "Okay if this is some sort of sick joke, ha ha very funny...now can we get out of here?"

Giles thanked the large man who helped him up and turned to face a rather perplexed looking Spike.

"I'm not sure what exactly you mean by that sir, but I can assure you that this is no...err...joke. In fact you are directly responsible for the death of the prince of the people."

Spike looked from Giles to the decapitated body and back to Giles and shrugged, pouting and looking rather blasé.

"He's dead, get over it," before he had even finished the sentence the crossbows moved in closer forcing him to wind even tighter and lose the nonchalant attitude. "I mean it's a terrible, terrible thing that's happened, but I can't see how I'm responsible for it...he was the idiot who got his head cut off by the great big poof..."

"Robin was the best fighter, he wouldn't 'ave died if you'd not distracted him..." one man offered from the group. Spike rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Oh please, I didn't distract him I ducked, if the idiot was too slow to move..." the look on the faces of the men gathered about him silenced his protests and he decided to take on a different angle. "It was all Angelus' fault, he's the murderer you should track him down and stake him..." He paused, wondering if these mortals knew what Angelus was exactly. "Out in the sun with honey dripped over him so ants can slowly eat him to death..."

"Ha!" shouted one man shaking his head in disgust. "The Sheriff of Nottingham is the law in this country. He'll never see justice served on himself."

Spike rolled his eyes in disgust, again and groaned. "Bloody hell, haven't you lot ever heard of vigilantes?"

His eyes took in their appearance and he shrugged to himself, supposing that the word probably didn't even exist yet. Shaking his head he went on.

"You know, go out there, wreak revenge, kill the bastard, chop HIS head off..." he thought about it for a moment, decapitation was definitely a fine way for Angelus to turn to dust. "Yeah, that'll work."

"How are we supposed to do that? Our leader Robin's dead, lying at our feet, who are we to follow?" another nameless face from the small crowd asked. Spike shrugged and pulled a face at the decapitated corpse.

"Whoever...just go out there and get the bastard," Spike was getting exasperated, why the hell did all these mortals demand a leader. Silently he shook his head and turned to face Giles, he didn't like the look that was slowly spreading across the watchers face. "What?"

"You," stated Giles, smiling in delight. Spike's face froze.

"What about me?"

"You can lead us, take Robin's place...after all you are partially responsible for his untimely demise..."

"No," stated Spike his eyebrows shooting up in horror at the suggestion. "I am not stepping in just because you oafs are too stupid to think for yourselves after your equally brain dead leader was beheaded."

"But it's for the greater good," protested Giles. Spike nearly heaved in disgust.

"Oh such a convincing argument for someone like me. Again the answer is no."

"Well what else are you going to do?" asked Giles giving Spike a rather unconvincing 'you have no choice' look. "The Sheriff will no doubt have a reward on your head even as we speak he could already be sending out men to search for you and in those...clothes...you will be easily recognized. You won't last a night before hundreds of the Princes men will be on you."

"Good," said Spike smugly. "More to eat. Anyway the only plans I have is to find a certain little redhead witch and make her get me out of this hell hole."

"What?" asked Giles, truly appalled by the mention of a witch, and then shook his head. "You can rest assured that you have a death warrant on your head as long as Prince Riley and the Sheriff of Nottingham govern the country. You cannot expect to survive by yourself..."

"Prince Riley? The slayers little tosspot?? What the hell is this?" demanded Spike lowering his arms and instantly raising them with the threatening rattle of crossbows.

"Prince Riley governs in the absence of our good King Richard. Although it is said that Nottingham rules Prince Riley..." offered Giles.

"That'd be bloody right. Riley strikes me as the sort who'd happily be a puppet and of course we all know how much Angelus loves having his hand up other peoples asses..." Spike muttered, almost growling and silently vowing to take Willow over his knee and give her a good spanking so she'd never want to cast again.

"Robin was the people's prince, he helped them, sought to relieve the monetary burden created by Prince Riley's cruel and oppressive taxations..."

"Oh please if you keep going on about how good this Robin was I'm going to heave all over your bloody boots!" snapped Spike. He was covered in nearly dry mud, hungry again, truly pissed off at Willow and not at all interested in some do gooder whose headless corpse lie bleeding near his feet. To top it all off he was getting a serious ache in his shoulders from holding up his arms for so long.

"Robin was truly magnificent. He had grand plans to over throw Prince Riley and Nottingham so that he could govern the country until our beloved King Richards return," Giles stated. "You have no right to degrade his memory."

"Hang on...you're telling me this soddin' lump of dead carcass lying headless at my feet was planning on slaughtering the Royals, overriding the system and conquering the countryside?" Spike frowned down at the lifeless corpse with the slightest hint of a new found respect for the dearly departed.

"Yes, well...oh bloody hell, I suppose so...if you have to look at it that way."

"Revolution, anarchy and mayhem plus some really spectacular and history making blood lettings..." Spike shrugged and grinned at Giles and the group of men surrounding him. "I'm in! Just call me Robin."

A general cheer went up and the crossbows were lowered. Giles rushed forward and wrapped himself about Spike, causing the blond to sneer and mutter violent curses at the watcher.

"I didn't say anything about getting all nancy pancy with you lot though..." he paused as he looked over the large group. "Who are you anyway?"

"I'm Will Scarlet," Giles introduced himself and Spike ignored his outstretched hand. "And these fine gentlemen are Robin Hood's merry men. Come, let us get you back to our camp and you can change into something more suitable and less muddy."

Spike looked down at his mud-ridden denims and leathers then back up at the green tight clad men and cocked an eyebrow.

"Fine, but I'm not bloody well wearing tights."

ààààà

Feedback

Next

Back to Willow and Spike Index

Back to Main Index