Time-span: Post-Chosen, Post-Not Fade Away, and Post OotP.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, those rich fellows do.
Notes: for a request meme at my journal, in which fallen_iceangel requested: How about a Spike/Percy Weasley fic?
Spike eyed the boy standing before him, taking in the nerdy glasses and bright green eyes. He had the look of a boy who had grown faster than his appetite, leaving a severely malnutrition effect. Spike snorted. "What is it about the Powers and making tiny little prats like you heroes of the world?"
"Umm, I'm not sure, Mr. Bloody." Harry shuffled from foot to foot and looked for an escape route. Spike had seen this exact expression when he had sized up Ron. Hermione had stared back at him, eyes wide and curious. It was easy to see who the brain of the operation was.
"Call me Spike." The vampire shrugged. "If I'm going got be your new guard we might as well be on a first name basis."
"Guard?" Harry squeaked.
"Yeah, or so says chuckles over there." Spike glared at tall, regal looking redhead. Percy narrowed hazel eyes and said nothing. "It was a joke, Head Boy. You know what a joke is, don't you?"
"I'm aware of the word." Percy snapped, before turning on his heal and striding away.
"That is one annoying little arse." Spike commented.
"Don't mind him." Harry gave a slight smile. "He's always like that."
"So I noticed." Spike took on last glance at Percy's retreating back, before turning all of his attention on his latest charge.
It felt a bit like taking care of Dawn all over again. Harry was stubborn, determined, and reckless. He knew what was after him, was aware of the darkness in the world and his own heart, but oddly naive about everything else. It was a bit refreshing. After spending time with Angel's group of do-gooders Spike was willing to take anything that didn't have the label champion written across it. Harry and his rowdy band of teenagers were far from champions, they were merely children turned adults trying to survive.
The only problem within it all, aside from the dark looks that that Snape fellow kept sending him every time he visited Grimmuald place, was that Spike couldn't stop thinking about Percy Weasley. Percy wasn't around very often. Like Snape, Percy had come to his senses about the organization he worked for and had become a spy. Since, by this time, Percy had been ambitious enough to become the personal assistant to the Minister, Percy's spying was actually a lot more helpful than some would have believed.
It was a pity that Percy was never actually around, because Spike wanted nothing more than to mess with that fussy, stuck-up Head Boy. The moment he had spotted Percy he had had the urge to ruffle the man's feathers.
"Umm, Mr. Bloody?" Harry stood at the doorway, looking nervous. This seemed to be a common thing with Harry. Spike had, after awhile, realized that Harry had finally succumbed to the pressure of having a mass murderer trying to kill him. Spike didn't blame the kid for feeling a little shaky.
"Ron's older brother is here to see you."
Well, that wasn't a very good description. Ron had more brothers than Spike could throw rocks at. Nodding, Spike followed the teen down the stairs to find Percy standing there in his pristine robes and a large folder under one arm. Spike inwardly smiled with glee.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Head Boy." Spike leered. Percy cleared his throat, obviously not amused. "You've got that pinched look to your face, love. Need a little help getting that stick out of your arse?"
"I can assure you, should I need help with any such thing, I wouldn't ask it of you." Percy replied, stiffly. Spike merely wiggled his eyebrows, enjoying the way Percy sighed in exasperation. "I have come to present an offer from the Ministry. Not that I, nor anyone else in the Order, expects you to comply."
"What is it, then?" Spike asked, gesturing for Percy to follow him into the library. The library was Spike's favorite place at Grimmuald, though he would never admit it to anyone. It was dark, with a sinister feel emitting from the Dark Arts books. Spike loved it, though his soul was annoyed by the fact.
“The Ministry is fascinated by the fact that a vampire with a soul is in their midst. They wish to… Interrogate you.” Percy informed him.
“Sounds a bit more demanding than that.” Spike replied, throwing himself into a large overstuffed chair. He watched Percy with half-lidded eyes. Percy turned away from him, his eyes scanning the bookshelf. This gave Spike a perfect view of his backside. Percy’s spine was stiff, visibly uncomfortable through the sweater vest he wore.
“The truth behind this diplomatic move is that they wish to know about the Order’s newest ally. To have a strong vampire, supposedly on the side of good? It’s not very common, you must admit.” Percy said.
“No, I suspect not.” Spike pushed himself to his feet, moving silently across the room. When he spoke next he was barely a foot away from Percy. “Perhaps I should do it. Bare my soul for you Ministry.”
“I wouldn’t ask it of you.” Percy spun around, spine far too stiff. His eyes tried to hide the sudden fear he obviously felt from having a dangerous creature so close. Spike smirked. “Honestly, I’m simply making an act of trying to convince you.”
“You could have lied.” Spike whispered. He leaned closer his lips coming within an inch of Percy’s. “Or maybe you wanted to visit me?”
Percy visibly gulped. Spike reached forward and pulled the folder from Percy’s loose grip. Tossing it to the side, he ignored Percy’s scowl as the papers hit the dirty floor.
“That wasn’t necessary.” Percy noted.
“No, but now it makes you look like the superhero, eh head boy?” Spike replied with a grin.
“I don’t understand your meaning.” Percy admitted.
Spike took a step forward, causing Percy’s back to hit the bookshelves. Spike allowed a hand to pluck lightly at the hem of Percy’s shirt. Percy looked away. Spike leaned closely, his stolen breath brushing against Percy’s cheek. “Percy Weasley, the daring Ministry official who fought to give his government what they wanted, an interview with William the Bloody. He risked his life, found practically nothing, but will no doubt become a man of fame for his efforts.”
“You have a strong sense of fantasy.” Percy informed him, his voice dry and not at all amused. Spike grinned, wiggling his eyebrows obscenely. Percy scowled, an expression that should not look as good as it did.
“Fantasy?” Spike shrugged. “Nah, more like reality.”
And then he kissed Percy, just like that. Percy stiffened even more, a feat that amazed Spike. Then, after a second of merely pressing lips against one another, Percy responded. Soft thin lips parted to allow in Spike’s tongue. Spike let out a grunt of appreciation, pushing Percy against the bookshelf with increasing fervor.
Soon, Spike had his fingers threading through Percy’s hair. One of Percy’s legs was wrapped around Spike’s hip, bringing their groins into contact. Percy was letting out a low keening noise, a sound of pure pleasure that was going to be Spike’s undoing. It was almost as though Percy had never been touched before.
“See?” Spike gasped out, pulling his mouth away from Percy. “I told you I’d make you look like a hero.”
“What in the bloody hell are you talking about?” Percy demanded. His hair was standing on end, his lips bruised from kisses. Clothing that was once in perfect form was now askew. Spike smirked.
“Look like you’ve either been shagged or in a fight, love.” Spike informed him. Percy gave him that trademark scowl.