A/N: Hmm, long-time no Buffy crossover. Saw this in the FFA, had strange idea. First time I've ever written Donna, I hope she came across well. (Also written in her honour because of the latest episode Turn Left, which was incredible) Feedback nice, but enjoyment better. So, voila:
Disclaimer: The awesome characters of Doctor Who and Buffy belong to respective owners.
“Who’re you?” The Doctor demanded as he approached the bleach blond in the alley. The TARDIS was parked in the lamplight, and the Time Lord was perturbed by the man who was alternating between taking a swig of hard liquor and taking a deep drag of nicotine too close to his beloved time-ship for comfort. He and Donna had just finished dealing with an interesting type of parasitic creature that was feeding off a small family, before making their way back to the Police Box in high spirits. Something was bothering him though, just that little bit more at the back of his mind as they approached the man.
“Who the hell are you?” Spike retorted as he looked up to be faced with the strange smelling bloke, who was attempting to out-condescend the ol' broodin' forehead as he stared disapprovingly at the cigarette butts dropped next to the retro phone booth. Spike shrugged mentally. Must be the owner. In L.A. you found all kinds.
“Well, someone’s got to go first.” A red-head following behind him rolled her eyes. She sighed, apparently used to the macho-superiority package already. “I’m Donna, his majesty over there’s the Doctor.”
Glancing at the feisty woman- Lord knew he’d known enough of them for several lifetimes to recognise one from right off the bat- Spike adjusted the collar of his coat as he answered shortly. “The name’s Spike.”
Suddenly this 'Doctor' person stopped frowning at him as he raised his head in thought. “Spike? Why do I know that name...?”
Spike growled in response, these two were a bunch of idiots. "You might have heard of William the bloody? Scourge of Europe? Not in the mood to be messed with, mate."
The vampire smirked as a flash of recognition dawned on the strange demon. “Of course! William the bloody!"
"Know him?" Donna asked with mild curiosity.
The Doctor faced his companion with excitement. "Know him?! This was the man voted the most bloody awful poet in the country for four centuries running!”
Spike’s mouth fell open and his cigarette fell to the ground. "Now, hold on a minute-!"
"Oh, it's true. It's so fantastically bad they thought it deserved an award. Brilliant!"
“With a gob like that, I’m not surprised.” Donna commented as Spike struggled to form coherent words. “It’s rude to keep your trap hanging like that, y’know.”
“It's a record that held until the committee was read Vogon poetry by mistake... only one Clerk survived that day.” The Doctor scratched at his chin before he offered his hand out to shake. “Anyway, lovely to meet you. I wish you all the best luck in your career.”
Staring at the hand as if it were bathed in Holy water, Spike shook his head and stomped back into the shadows beyond the strange blue box. “That’s it, I’m out of here. Weirdo."
“Aw, don’t be like that.” The Doctor bounded forward out of his stupor and called out after the vampire. “I didn’t think it was that really
that bad! Actually... it was pretty bad. I ask you... Effulgent?”
Irked, Spike turned as he was walking away and pointed a finger childishly. “Not talking to you anymore!”
Equally petulant, the Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that not talking protest, talking? Go for that next nobel! I know you got it in you!”
“Oh, sod off!”