I'm Not Bloody Well Wearing Tights

Part Two

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Spike was actually missing Giles' bathroom. The river he was bathing in offered little privacy, not that he cared about that, but it also lacked hot water, towels and that really lovely conditioner that kept his hair in such great nick. But now, as the great drama began to play out before him, it was the privacy factor that he missed the most.

"Oh fuck," it was all he could mutter as two very familiar figures came into view. Two brunettes, one feminine in form but definitely in charge as she dragged along a very sad excuse of a man.

"I don't care anymore," Cordelia screamed into Xander's ear as she dragged him along by it, stopping a few feet away Spike, who was standing in the icy cold water. "I wasn't raised for this sort of pathetic life! I'm meant to be in a castle, with hand maidens, jewels, knights at my beck and call, carriages and footmen and...and...well I can't think what else I'm meant to have but YOU certainly aren't providing it."

"But Cordy it's not my..." Xander began only to have Cordy tug on his ear causing him to scream and Spike to wince.

"Fault? No, of course it's not. It's all Prince Riley and Nottingham's fault...please!" screamed Cordelia, releasing his ear and turning away from him to pace and rant. "I can understand that, but this..." she paused for a moment and looked back at the small village that Robin and his gang had set up, illuminated by a few fires and torches. "This is so your fault..." She turned back to Xander and started to poke him in the chest with every fault she came up with. "I have to clean, wash, cook even and I've never had to cook before in my life! The floor in our cottage is dung, I can't stand the smell, and then you come in and track mud all over the place. Why can't we have a nice brush or thatch floor? Would that be too much to ask? Then there is the whole green thing, it just doesn't suit my complexion. Look at me! I look like some...some...I don't know what I look like but it's not natural..."

"Green isn't natural?" Spike asked skeptically from the freezing cold water and raised an eyebrow. "Look around, love. You're in a forest, green is the dominant bloody color."

Cordelia turned to glare at him while Xander frowned and shrugged.

"Actually he's got a point..." Xander began to say only to have Cordelia scream loudly before throwing herself at him, sending them both into the icy cold water next to Spike and splashing him.

"Hey watch it!" he yelled, turning away from the couple and climbing up onto the bank, grabbing a rough hessian cloth that Giles...no, that Will Scarlet had left for him to use as a towel, before turning back to watch in amusement as a very drenched Cordelia surfaced, gasping for breath.

"You’re such a bastard," she screamed at Xander, grabbing his neck. Spike caught a look of sheer fear cross the boy’s face before she held him under the water as she chanted manically. "Die, die, die!"

Spike grinned, he never really did care for Xander and thought it a fitting death to be drowned by some silly chit in a fit of rage. Then the worse thing in this bizarre world happened. Cordelia stopped chanting, her face crumpled in horror and she dragged her beloved back up above the water.

"Oh Xander, I'm so sorry," she cried, throwing her arms around the gasping brunette and sending them both crashing back into the water. They surfaced a few moments later, lips locked together, hands fumbling over each other's body. It was enough to make Spike want to heave.

"Oh that's it. As soon as I see Red she's getting a beating," Spike muttered as he moved away from the frantically dry humping couple, rubbing the rough hessian over his body. He was so busy toweling off that he didn't even realize where he was walking...until it was too late. His bare foot sunk into something warm and mushy. Closing his eyes, he ground his jaw and took a calming but ineffectual deep breath. Opening his eyes, he glanced down at his foot, submerged in a fresh cowpat. "A beating is too good for her...I'm going to fucking kill her."

"Who's that then?" an Irish voice lilted across the cool night air. Actually it slurred.

Spike turned and looked at the source of the voice. It was the little dark haired guy that ran with Angel these days, or those days, or the days to come...oh bloody hell, he knew what he meant and he didn't particularly care. Then he spotted the large earthen bottle the little man was swigging from and decided to be friendly.

"So, who are you mate?" Spike asked, shaking the manure off his foot and wrapping the large piece of hessian about his waist.

"Tuck, Friar Tuck.  Actually I'm a priest but these heathens don't really give a shit," he slurred, grinning lopsidedly and thrusting the bottle in the general direction of the small village before taking another swig from it. "Then again, neither do I...only did it for the women, they love the idea of seducing men of the cloth."

Spike raised an eyebrow as he walked over and sat next to the pissed priest on the fallen log. He was promptly offered the bottle, which he gratefully accepted, the fiery alcohol offering him succor from the insane world he was in.

"You want to know something?" Tuck asked, leaning back and grinning. Unfortunately there was nothing to lean against and he fell flat on his back, making him giggle. After a few moments of valiant struggling and swearing, he managed to regain his position next to Spike, taking the bottle and winking at him. "Works real well, especially the nuns. Now, who are you going to kill?"

The bottle was handed back to Spike and he glanced at it before taking a huge slug.

"Red..." he paused for a moment when the priest gave him an odd look. "Willow, she's going down."

"Why's that then?" Tuck asked, attempting to take the bottle from the vamp and failing miserably, only able to grasp the empty air a few inches away from it. Spike cocked an eyebrow and shoved the bottle into the little man’s hands, causing him to giggle.

"Well she's fucked everything up..." Spike's monologue for the reasons of killing Willow, apart from the sheer pleasure of ripping her throat out, was interrupted by a shout of recognition from Will Scarlet as he started to make his way over to the duo. Spike ground his teeth together and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the man walk towards them. "Just marvelous...it's the great wanker himself...probably wants me to save the world...stupid bloody git."

"I've left some clothes in there for you," Will motioned vaguely to the small hut he'd just left as he came to a halt in front of the pair on the log. "I suggest you get some sleep..."

"What are you on about? It's early," Spike stated and beside him Tuck nodded in agreement. "Besides I thought we were going to go do some damage."

"Damage?" Will raised a suspicious eyebrow at the blond. Spike shrugged.

"You know, the crap you were raving on about that the headless wonder did," Spike stated, scratching his chest and wondering if he had any ciggies left in his duster.

"I'm thinking he means the robbin' the rich and givin' to the poor," suggested Tuck, finishing the statement with a swig of whiskey. "You know, Robin Hood's plan..."

"Oh yes. Well that can wait until morning..."

"What were you lot up to anyway? Before the idiot was beheaded?" asked Spike offhandedly.

"The Sheriff was on his way to collect the taxes from a village, we were trying to stop him," stated Will. Spike raised an eyebrow in question at the oddity of such a time to collect taxes. "The Sheriff prefers to collect the taxes on the stroke of midnight, claiming that it's the only way to truly collect at the end of the day."

"So he was on his way to get money?" Spike queried.

"Yes," confirmed Will.

"So he should be on his way back...with money?" he asked quietly, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice.

"Well, er, yes I suppose so..." stuttered Will.

"You suppose so? And you just want to tuck everyone up in bed and wait for the sun to come up so you can go wherever and say 'oh dear, Nottingham's taken all your money during the night. Righto we'll look upset and concerned for you while scratching our balls and sitting on our arses.'?" Spike asked accentuating the question with a cockily raised eyebrow in the general direction of a rather perplexed and red-faced Will.

"Well, the plan was for us to stop him before..."

"Oh bugger the plan mate! The plan died when the poof's head went solo. We want the money, Nottingham will have it by midnight, so we will have it within an hour of that," Spike stated, grabbing the bottle from Tuck and taking one last slug of whiskey before standing up and heading off towards his cottage. "Get everyone up and ready to go."

Will watched in stunned silence as the blond disappeared into the hut.

"Why do I get the feeling that I am going to rue the day I ever set eyes on that man?" asked Will Scarlet of no one in particular.

"Because he's got his head screwed on and makes sense. 'Sides which you know Nottingham only works at night..." stated Tuck, taking an almighty swig of the whiskey, the movement throwing him off balance and causing him to fall off the log. Again. "Bugger."

"Yes, well, we'll see," Will murmured as he walked off to organize the Merry Men into action. It was probably a fortunate thing for Will Scarlet not to be in the tiny cottage when Spike set eyes on the clothes that had been laid out for him.

"What the bloody hell?" he screamed to the four walls that surrounded him. There, neatly laid out on the bed, were the very thing he had declared he was not wearing. Tights. Bulky, coarse and undoubtedly uncomfortable green tights. Of course they weren't the sort of tights that he was use to eyeing off as they were wrapped around the legs of some of the luscious pieces of flesh in Sunnydale. These tights were the result of shearing a sheep, spinning the wool, using plants to dye them to an eye fetching green and then the wool was woven into chunky tights. No matter what, no matter how many hours some sweet little old lady had put into the production of the items before him, it was going to be a cold day in hell before he wore them. Grabbing the offensive clothing, he stormed out of the small cottage. "Giles...Giles...bloody hell, GILES!!"

He attracted the attention of every single occupant of the camp except the one he wanted. Will Scarlet paid him no heed at all. Well at least until Spike threw the tights at him.

"What?" asked Will, turning to face the pissed off blond and frowned. "You can't exactly go like that, I doubt very much that Nottingham will take you seriously wrapped up in a piece of hessian."

"I said I wasn't bloody well wearing tights and I meant it...get me some pants," he hissed, before running a critical eye across the men gathered in front of him...all clad in the dreaded tights. "You lot look like a group of friggin' pansies! How the hell are you meant to be taken seriously?"

"I think you'll find that these," Will stated, holding out the tights to the blond. "Are quite serviceable."

"Not to mention comfortable," added another of the Merry Men. A murmur started rippling through the group as they discussed the advantages and disadvantages of tights. Spike couldn't believe it. They sounded like the girls when they got together to discuss the merits of various items of clothing, the basis of the conversation was exactly the same, but there were one or two notable differences in the comments being made. Throw in a couple of fashion magazines and he could have sworn he was still lounging about on Giles' lounge trying to watch Passions while the girls talked fashion as easily as they talked of demons.

"Except when the maids are about, then they are rather...well...confining. But a long shirt or tunic comes in handy...to cover the...well...the...you know."

Spike frowned, dropped his eyes down to the man’s crotch and scowled. "I don't care, I'm not bloody well wearing tights...get me some pants so we can go and do this before I change my mind."

It was the threat of losing their newest leader that spurned the little group into action. So, half an hour later, Spike was standing in the middle of the road on the edge of the forest that Nottingham and his men would have to take in order to return to the castle. And he wasn't wearing tights. Thankfully he was clothed in soft suede pants and a rough shirt. Okay, so it wasn't the usual black ensemble he was use to but at least he was wearing one item of clothing that was the product of a dead animal, it made him feel slightly better...except for the itching in strange places.

"Six men, all on horseback. Crossbows and swords. 'Bout a mile back." Xander heaved to Spike, who scowled at the out of breath runner.

"Where the hell is Nottingham?"

"Not with them," Xander panted, earning a seething glare from the blond. "He didn't go on to the village..."

"How many were in the group the headless wonder attacked?" Spike directed the question to Will.

"Oh, there were, I suppose, about 10 foot soldiers, eight horseman and of course Nottingham," Will replied, frowning as he tried to remember the exact numbers.

"Stupid git thought he had us beat and sent the numbers home. Well won't he get a surprise," chuckled Spike, shaking his head. At least some things stayed the same, his sire was still as egotistical as ever. He rubbed his hands together and grinned. "Well, let's get this show on the road."

"What?" asked Will, rather dismayed that the man he had put so much blind faith in seemed to be some type of lunatic. It was when Spike went to grab the crossbow he was holding that Will finally broke out of his dazed stupor, yanking the crossbow back and struggling to keep his hold on it.

"Give me the damn crossbow," Spike snarled with a final hard yank, freeing it from Will's grasp. "Now go and hide in the bushes."

Will stood in the middle of the road watching as the blond fiddled with the crossbow. "Won't you need assistance?"

"What with six men? Nah, it'll be peaches," Spike glared at the Merry Men, frowning as they didn't move. "Go, now!"

Grumbling, they moved off, shaking their heads and mentioning the pity of losing two leaders in one night. Spike, however, was more concerned with the growing irritation in his pants. Muttering curses and swearing to kill Willow, he scratched until he heard the sound of approaching horses. Unfortunately it wasn't the only thing he heard, the various hidden Merry Men were rustling the shrubs and murmuring to each other.

"Will you lot shut the hell up?" Spike hissed, silencing the bushes. Shaking his head, he nodded to himself, braced his feet apart and held up the crossbow. Moments later the six rather inebriated horsemen came into view. Suddenly his face went blank and he frowned before yelling out his demands. "Stand and deliver!"

Once again the bushes were rustling and the air was filled with the question that one of the horsemen repeated. "What's that mean?"

"Stand and deliver...you know," Spike waved the crossbow in frustration. "Give me all your dosh!"

"Dosh?" it was a question heard from most of the people in the small area.

"Oh bloody hell," swore Spike lowering the crossbow and storming over to the first horseman. He reached up and yanked him forward, head butting him into semi-unconsciousness. "Give me the money!"

When it became clear exactly what his intentions were the other five soldiers were quick to react. Unfortunately for them Spike was quicker. By the time the Merry Men had pounced from their hiding places and within the space of a few well used curses and insults all six soldiers lay unconscious in the road, the horses were calmly eating grass and Spike had a leather pouch full of gold. He grinned manically tossing the pouch about in his hands.

"Take the horses and their uniforms," ordered Spike, scratching his thigh. "Let the bastards explain that to their precious bloody Sheriff."

"But we have no need..." Will began to protest.

"No need? What would be the easiest way to get into a heavily guarded palace? Who would stop a royal friggin’ guard? As to the horses, we need them to get around, bugger wandering about on foot," he glanced over at the frustrated Will and shook his head. "I'm really beginning to question your intelligence mate, Giles would have had that down pact."

"My name," Will ground out between clenched teeth. "Is Will Scarlet. If you persist in referring to me as Giles I shall be forced to take action."

Spike smirked and shook his head. He had this Will Scarlet down, all talk and no action. Well at least that was what he thought until Will's hands shot out and latched onto the leather pouch of gold, pulling it away from Spike.

"Hang on, mate," Spike spat out the last word, his fingers wrapping tightly around the pouch of gold coins as he tilted his head to look at Will Scarlet. "It's mine, remember? I risked life and limb for it, not you."

"This rightfully belongs to the people," Will protested and pulled the pouch towards him. Spike narrowed his eyes and pulled the pouch back.

"Then they can bloody well nick it. This is mine," Spike all but growled, yanking the pouch away from Will and turning his back to the annoyed man. Will Scarlet set his jaw and placed his hands on his hips, studying the blond as he eagerly opened the pouch and started to count the contents.

"And what exactly are you going to do with it?"

"Spend it."

"On what and where?"

Spike looked up. He hadn't actually thought of that. If he'd still been in Sunnydale the bag would have bought copious amounts of blood, cigarettes and booze. Not to mention a few other bits and pieces for entertainment...or rather entertainment for his bits and pieces. Here, in this hellhole, there was nothing he could think of that he wanted...other than Red to beat black and blue before getting them home.

"Bloody hell..." he spat, turning around and throwing the pouch at the righteous Will Scarlet. "I hate this."

"Ah but the people will love you for it," Will concluded, turning his back to the furious blond and smiling at his success.

"Oh shut up, already. The people, the people," Spike muttered as he stormed off scratching his chest and planning on finding some little redheaded chit to take his frustrations out on. "I hate the friggin' people as much as I hate this hell hole..."

***

"Ah, my beautiful witch," Angelus smiled as he leant back in the huge stone bath, relaxing in the warm water. "Come out and show what you have brought me."

"Virgin blood," a hand held goblet passed under his nose and long pale fingers ruffled his hair. "How did you know I was here?"

Angelus smirked, his hand reaching back to tangle in the long blonde locks and dragged the witch down to claim her mouth, tasting the magic on her hot breath. Catching the plump flesh of her bottom lip, his fangs elongated and pierced the flesh, drawing blood. Sucking on the sweet elixir, he wrapped his fingers about the offered goblet and pulled back from her mouth, smirking as he settled back against her naked stomach, stretching one arm out across her legs. She shifted slightly on the stone ledge she was draped across as her fingers continued to toy with his hair.

"Who else would be in my personal chambers, naked and carrying blood?" Angelus asked, closing his eyes as her hand wandered down to his chest, catching his nipple between her nails and pinching.

"I could imagine a number of people," she whispered. Angelus' laughter rumbled under her hand and she dug her nails into his flesh.

"Put the claws away, Kate," Angelus spoke softly, his hand capturing hers and bringing it to his mouth. "Or I shall bite them off."

Playfully, he bit down on the soft plump flesh under her thumb, puncturing it and licking at the small amount of blood that oozed forth.

"A warning, Angelus? That's not like you," she purred, shifting to whisper in his ear. "What could have possibly happened to put you in such a generous state of mind?"

"The easy destruction of a pest," he murmured, pulling the blonde from the stone ledge, his hands running over her warm skin as she sunk into the water, her legs wrapping around him. "Poor Robin lost his head."

"Some say that he never really had one to lose," smirked Kate, hooking her arms Angelus' neck as he swung them around in the water.

"So the fool is better off without it," Angelus chuckled as he slammed her against the wall of the bath, making her hiss. "Without Robin there is nothing to stand in my way. I have everything I want and more."

"Really?" Kate asked, tilting her head and running her hands across his chest. "But you still hide behind Prince Riley..."

"He is a necessity," Angelus growled, grabbing her throat and squeezing, causing the witch to claw at his confining hand. "But he will die...one way, or the other. When the King returns, the brothers will declare war, after a long and arduous battle between the two and their followers..."

"Only one will remain," Kate surmised as Angelus relaxed his death grip on her throat.

"Then, while victor is weak and licking their wounds, I shall step on them and take what is mine," Angelus murmured against her lips.

"You've forgotten one very important factor, the people will only follow Royal blood," Kate smiled. "Something you don't possess..."

"Ah, but I will," Angelus whispered, causing Kate to frown. "Through marriage..."

"Marriage?" snarled Kate, pushing him away. "To that little redhead in the west wing? You're a fool if you think that's going to happen."

In a blurred flash of movement the witch's world spun and she was submerged in warmth, drowning as the water smothered her. One of the hands that held her firmly under the water, tangled in her hair, pulling her head back, making her gulp in the warm water before she was pulled free, spluttering and clawing.

"The only fool here is you, Kate," snarled Angelus, his eyes glowing gold with anger. "The marriage has the Prince's blessing, in less than a week it will be done..."

"She loathes you..."

"She's an innocent who knows no better than to follow the sovereigns orders," Angelus snarled, keeping his painful hold on the half drowned witch and slamming her back against the hard edge of the deep bath. "So she'll demurely agree to the wedding vows and on the night she'll close her eyes, spread her legs and think of king and country as I take what is mine."

"You underestimate the girl’s character, Angelus," Kate spoke through clenched teeth.

"No, you underestimate me, Katie. You think I don't see the intelligence, that I only see a docile little girl? I'm no one's fool," he stated, not reducing his painful hold on her. "Without the King here, she has no allies, no one to support her should she object to the marriage. But I've worked hard to ensure that she won't, even so, with Prince Riley's command...she has no choice.”

"She's not dim-witted enough to fall for your sweet words, or to be bought with the gifts you bestow her..."

"No? She already has and I have the sweet girl's heart. It was pitifully easy to win, after all isn't it what all lonely little girls who are locked away dream of," he tilted his head and moved in closer, leaning his full weight against the witch. "Being rescued from their loneliness by a dark, handsome and powerful man? Come on, Kate, admit it...you're jealous that she's the one who receives such gracious favors from me."

"Jealous of a child?" her voice was full of venom, her eyes flashing a silent threat. "A mortal who could be destroyed..."

"Touch her and you'll regret it."

"Will I?" she spat. "There doesn't seem to be any room for me in your grand scheme, so how could it possibly regret it?"

"Ah," smirked Angelus, releasing her hair, his fingers tracing the contours of her face. "Now we come to the reasons for dramatics. The girl is just a stepping stone...nothing really. When the time comes and she is no longer of use, then she will die. You, however, have so many more...purposes."

"And when I'm no longer of use?"

"Katie, my girl, you'll always be of use to me..." he leant in, his lips capturing hers and his hands wandered, teasing her body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dominating her mouth. A cough from behind them interrupted the games and Angelus reluctantly broke the kiss but kept his eyes fixed on hers. "What is it?"

"The party you sent to collect the village taxes," a royal official started, shifting uncomfortably at having disturbed Nottingham.

"What about them?" Angelus asked, his index finger dragging down over the rounded swell of his witch's breasts, making the nipple harden.

"They were ambushed by Robin Hood."

"What?" roared Angelus, turning to face the unfortunate official.

"I...the...come here," the official turned away and ordered a figure from the shadows, who scrambled into the soft glow of the torches that burned. "Tell the Sheriff what happened."

"Robin and his men...they...we were attacked on the way back from the village," the young man stated, keeping his head low.

"That's impossible," stated Angelus, narrowing his eyes at the man’s shabby appearance. "Robin is dead."

"No, sir, he lives," the guard dropped his head even further down. "I'm sure it was him, the men..."

Angelus moved swiftly, his hand wrapping about the man's throat, slamming his head into the stone ledge of his bath. "What did he look like, this Robin Hood?"

"White, short hair, not so tall and wiry," stuttered the panicked guard, swallowing back a lump of fear.

"And his manner of dress?"

"No different to the rest of the forest scum...but," the guard hesitated.

"But what?" growled Angelus, increasing the pressure of his hold.

"His manner of speech was...strange."

"Go, leave us," Angelus ordered the official before turning his full attention back to his captive. "When did this happen?"

"Some time past, milord," the man whimpered.

"And why am I only now informed of these events?"

"They took everything, milord. The gold, the horses, we had to make our way back on foot..."

"It wasn't Robin," Angelus stated calmly, letting the man up but keeping his hand on the back of the wretch's neck. Smiling, he jerked the guard forward, his free hand smashing into his chin and snapping his neck. Behind him, Kate laughed softly.

"Oh my, kill one and another rises," she gasped through her chuckles. "Whatever does that do to your precious plan, Angelus?"

"Katie," Angelus snarled, pulling himself up on the ledge and swinging his legs over. "Go to hell."

"Damn, I suppose I won't be of any use today," she scowled, watching as the dark haired vampire walked away from the bath.

ààààà

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