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August 8, 1954

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This story is No. 8 in the series "Thirty-One Days Hath Even More Torments For Spike". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Spike normally gloried in brashly acting like the most evil and brutal demon imaginable in front of everyone, but there were also the infrequent occasions when this vampire felt it prudent to tone things down a bit.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > Other-Drama(Recent Donor)ManchesterFR151853016998 Aug 138 Aug 13Yes
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters and Rear Window characters are the property of their original owners.



Somebody was watching him.

Standing in the middle of the apartment living room, Spike puffed his cigarette alight while shaking out the match he’d just used and then tossing this into a nearby ashtray on the center table. Thoughtfully considering the glowing tip of his latest fag, the vampire slowly turned around in a half-circle.

Spike found himself looking straight out through the living room’s main picture window, which totally lacked any curtains or other means of providing privacy. This made it more than easy for him to take in the nighttime view of a courtyard out there, and also the apartment complex directly across from his present location. There, about half of the building’s windows were lit up by lamps but otherwise hidden behind their own curtains and blinds. The remaining rooms had complete darkness showing at random by the closed windows, indicating that the residents there had either retired for the evening or weren’t at home.

Idly exhaling through his nose a steady stream of cigarette smoke, Spike knew this wasn’t true for at least one shadowy spot over there. The inner feeling assuring him that he was under close observation by some hidden spectator in the other apartments hadn’t gone away. In fact, his irked sense of being watched by a soddin’ nosy parker was growing by the second--

“C’mere and gimme a kiss!”

*Oh, bollocks.*

Spike unwillingly moved around on his feet to once again put his back at the window, which only made the nape of his neck further prickle in wariness. It didn’t improve his mood in the least, consequently causing the vampire to glower at the young woman leaning against the side of the doorway to the bedroom, a half-filled glass of brownish liquid in her right hand. Even at this distance, Spike could smell both the cheap whiskey in the glass and on her breath, helped along by the loud belch she then uttered.

Slopping out a bit of her drink in a cheerfully wobbling salute at her latest gentleman caller, the woman giggled, “You’ve got the coldest skin I’ve ever touched, doll, so come to bed and I’ll warm you up!”

The blond demon glanced over his shoulder. Judging from the sightlines, just about anyone in the other apartments opposite could see everything in here. Spike brought back his annoyed gaze at the inebriated woman he’d picked up at a bar a few blocks away for tonight’s snack.

A very grumpy creature of the night aware that all his recent efforts to enjoy a quick repast of blood and death had completely gone to naught then snapped, “Listen, love, didn’t it ever occur to you there might be a damn Peeping Tom behind a window over there, wanking away at seeing you walk around in this dump with no privacy?”

Hiccupping slightly, the woman (whose name Spike hadn’t even bothered to learn) closed one eye in boozy concentration. After a few more exasperating moments, she brightened up to next stagger out into the living room. Heading for the left-hand wall in a weaving line, this female clumsily deposited her whiskey glass onto a cabinet there.

Turning to face Spike at that moment wondering what the hell this bint was up to now, his presumed victim then loudly declared, “In that case, I’m gonna make all his dreams come true!”

Before an astonished Spike could react to this, the woman reached down with both hands, grabbed the edges of her skirt, and in one swift move, she entirely pulled off her dress over her head. Letting her garment fall to the floor, the grinning woman presently clad only in a set of cheap ladies’ underwear next gleefully waved at the window to any possible concealed eyewitnesses outside now probably having a mild heart attack.

Spike mentally groused, *Wonderful, that’s all I buggering needed, a sloshed exhibitionist! Enough’s enough, I’m done with this!*

Flicking his cigarette to the floor, Spike briskly strode towards the front door of the apartment residence. Laying his hand on the doorknob, he heard from behind a puzzled, “Say, fella, what’s the big rush? Why’re you leaving?”

Pulling the door open and then exiting into the hallway corridor beyond, Spike nonchalantly bid his farewells, “Changed my mind, love. Hope you enjoy your hangover in the morning.”

Smoothly shutting the door after himself in the stunned silence those last words produced, Spike was halfway down the corridor before he heard the sounds of shattering glass produced by a tumbler hurled with enraged force at the inner surface of the door, along with the farewell scream, “YOU BASTARD!”

The vampire allowed himself a wicked smirk at managing to at least thoroughly piss off someone else tonight. Spike’s grin soon altered into genuine sourness over having to do it all again this evening, hunting for some human to be his dinner. Though, this time, he’d do it in decent peace and quiet, with nobody looking over his shoulder all the while!

Clattering down the apartment stairs, Spike summed up his entire incensed mood with four short growled words: “I bloody hate voyeurs!”

The End

You have reached the end of "August 8, 1954". This story is complete.

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