Woodstock

Spike finished rolling his Rizzla and popped it in his mouth. He inhaled long and hard as he lit it feeling the slight tinge at the back of his throat as he caught some marijuana in the mix. It wasn't like Spike to smoke dope really but Dru had been going on and on like crazy for week's, sometimes he needed to get away for a while. Spike lay back he was sitting on top of the roof of one of the factories surrounding their new lair. He rested his head in the cold asphalt that covered the roof and thought back to the fight he'd just walked out on.

"Your never good to me you never let me do what I want!" Drusilla screeched and threw several more of her dolls at Spike from across the bedroom.

"Dru you never do anything but what you want." Spike insisted trying once again to skirt round the bed behind which he was cowering to grab her and was assaulted by various other flying objects. He was holding a small wicker placemat in front of his chest, he didn't trust her not to throw something long and pointy and end up dusting him.

"I want to go back to Prague," the hail of objects stopped for a second and Drusilla looked up at Spike pleadingly from behind the bed. "Take me to Prague." Spike lowered the placemat and sighed looking back at her sorrowfully.

"I would Dru, honestly, but-" Spike was halted again as more missiles flew through the air at him and he had to raise the mat once again as Dru managed to hurl a cross at him not minding her own injury's from doing so. The piece of metal about the size of the palm of his hand flew through the air clipping his left eyebrow cutting into it and burning the flesh. Spike cried out his demon coming to the fore and he raised a hand to his now smoking forehead it came away bloody and he knew right away it was going to scar for good.

"Dru..." He growled looking down at her angrily. He could see the slight fear in her eyes when she realized she'd got him really mad and was glad of it. She'd stopped throwing things now her tantrum giving way to fear and Spike grabbed her up off the floor throwing her onto the bed. He leaned down onto her bringing his face within inches of hers.

"I'm *not* taking you to Prague, I'm *not* taking you back to Rumania to look for daddy, daddies dead. I'm *not* buying you anymore doll's to replace all the ones you just smashed. I'm *not* going to do anything for you any more *ducks*. Let's see just how well you cope without good old Spikey. I'm leaving Dru and I'm not coming back." He growled back at her not minding her sob's. He got up and pulled on his duster storming out into the night.

Spike was pretty sure he was leaving. He tried before many times but he always ended up coming back when the repeating voice in his head got too much. It was the voice of Angelus the night he'd disappeared, the last thing he'd ever said to Spike was:

"Look after Dru until I get back, you know how she gets. Don't leave her my boy, don't leave."

It had made him frown then those last words, it was not really an Angelus type of thing to say. Drusilla was healthy then and didn't need looking after, and when his sire didn't come back he thought that must have been the reason he told him to stay with her. His sire had to go somewhere for a while and didn't want any awkward questions as to where.

Despite what he'd shouted at Dru he didn't really believe, didn't want to believe, daddy was dead. Spike had done everything he'd been told. He'd taken over for Angelus when he disappeared waiting for him to come back. They'd stayed in Rumania for seven years after Angelus disappeared and neither he nor Dru wanted to move even then in case he might come back one day and they where gone, but a new slayer had come to town and when he'd killed her the towns people finally got up the courage to rush their lair and they had to leave.

Spike pinched the skin on the bridge of his nose and stubbed out the butt of his roll up. He needed to get away. He got up and stepped off the lip of the roof falling the two stories to the floor and landing easily in a crouch. He wandered into town not knowing where he was going really just walking.

He left the industrial area of the town they where staying in - Good-hope in southern Pennsylvania - by Washington avenue and headed into the center of town. He passed by the better part of town on his way, it was early still and the night was light and warm, young children sat on their porches drinking lemonade and listening to the radio thinking idle child thoughts with no idea of the danger walking down the street at the foot of their gardens.

He wandered onto main street a few of the bars where open he'd get a bite to eat from there. That's when he noticed the poster, it was a poster just like many others. This one had a child like picture on it something that looked like it had been cut out and stuck together. A little white bird, dove, stood on one leg on the neck of a Guitar.

It boasted 'Three days of Peace, and music. 'It was for a party he'd heard of or a concert or something. He ripped it off the wall it was pasted too and brought it out under one of the street lights. 'Woodstock Music and Art fair, in White lake NY' August 15,16,17.' He could make that it was the 10th now and he did need to get away for a while. Perfect. Hundreds no more like thousands, of drugged up little hippies running around in a field. Can you say all you can eat buffet?

Spike folded the poster up and put it in his pocket. He was suddenly in a better mood he might not have to kill so many people after all. What better way to spend your weekend than a live concert all the people you can eat and Jimi Hendrix playing in the background? This was going to be so much fun! Spike began to whistle as he made his way to the first bar of the night.