Disclaimer: The world of Buffy the Vampire the Slayer and Supernatural do not belong to me.
“Spike, go over there,” the brunette girl hissed at the thin blond man in the leather duster, “Go have them make you a blooming onion or something, just-” She made a shooing motion with her hands.
“Gonna get yourself in trouble. Big sis said-“ The girl poked at the man with the pointy end of the cue stick that she had pulled off the wall, not hard or with any real intent, but Ellen was amused at the man jumping back and looking affronted. With a strong British accent the man admonished with a glare, “Now, Nibblet, no cause to be poking pointy wooden things at me.”
“Go get me a beer.”
“Big sis wouldn’t want you-“
“Spike,” she hissed with some real rancor, “just go away.”
The man glared at her one last time and with an artistic swirl of his coat, strode away from the pool tables and sat himself at the bar, signaling absently at Ellen with two fingers indicating one for himself and another for the girl at the tables, “Ungrateful little, see if I take her anywhere again. It’s always Spike do this, Spike do that.”
Ellen walked up and smiled, “Can’t do anything with them at that age,” she commiserated as she popped the top of a bottle and handed it to Spike while handing the other to Jo with a sour look which Jo ignored as she delivered the beer to the pool table.
“Bloody reason why I didn’t have any kids, too much trouble. Now look where I end up, babysitting the nibblet over there. Now that she’s turned twenty-one, thinks she can up and go anywhere and do anything she wants,” Spike grumbled. Ellen looked over to where Jo had picked up a cue stick and had engaged the girl in a friendly game, a couple of twenty dollar bills lay on the side of the table. “Gonna get hustled,” Spike muttered as he took another sip of his beer.
Ellen looked amused, “Your girl or mine?”
“Been teaching Dawn how to hustle pool since she was fourteen,” Spike said with pride. “Girls even better than the whelp.”
“Jo was little over that. She might be rusty though. Found she could make more money from poker than pool.”
“Ah, but pool takes skill,” Spike said pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and looking at Ellen with a questioning glance. She pulled an ash tray out from under the bar and placed it in front of him. Spike lit up and took a drag, “So, you and the girl been in the business long?”
Ellen picked up a rag and started wiping down the bar. “The Roadhouse? Was left to me by my late husband, Jo’s father. She grew up in here.”
“Not that business.”
“Now that ain’t none of your business, ain’t it?” Ellen said.
Spike smirked and turned to watch the girls. “You need anything, any of yours need anything, you call.” Spike slipped the card onto the bar. “Nibblet, work’s done here!” he called and stood, “Night time is burning and don’t want to get caught under the blanket in the morning.”
Dawn smiled and slipped a card to Jo before putting up her cue stick and trotting across the bar to meet Spike at the door.
Ellen looked at the card: International Council of Watchers.