It's An Adventure

"So. We're here. At a *known* demon and vampire haunt. At least it's *daylight*, right? That's good, isn't it? Still, were at place *Angel* wouldn't even let us walk close *by* let alone *enter*. He made us sit in the car and wait. Why was that again, Wes? Oh! I know! Because he thought we'd be killed *dead* if we went in!" She turned her dark acusing eyes towards Xander. "How are we going to do this again? And *why* are we doing this, again?" Cordelia asked nervously, as she stood in the doorway of the vampire club, clad in one of Angel's leather coats, the sleeves rolled up over her hands. An over-sized coat that held several wooden stakes, a loaded crossbow, a handgun, and a water gun that held plenty of holy water. None of which made her feel *safe*. She shivered, looking at Xander. She rubbed the sleeve of the leather coat. It did feel *nice* and it calmed her a bit.

Xander sighed. He was up to this. He, too, was wearing one of Angel's long leather coats.

They all were. And they were loaded for bear.

Or vampire.

Or demon.

They were *not* short on weapons, he was sure. He looked at Wesley and Cordelia. Not short on courage, either. Short on *faith* maybe, but courage they had. Even Cordy, shaking in her boots, was ready and willing to step into the demon bar. Wesley looked ready to battle the fires of hell, all decked out in his own leather, along with one of Angel's coats, a scowl marring his attractive face.

"Wesley comes with me, positions himself at the back of the room, wall to his back. I go to the bartender. You, Cordy, stay by the door." He looked at both of them. "Draw your weapons *only* if I give you the signal, and *not* when I draw mine, got it?"

They both nodded. "Remember, I'm gonna *show*, that's pretty much a given. Don't panic. We're gonna be cool and business like. Only draw when I give the signal. Got it?"

Again they nodded. Xander gulped. "What's the signal?" He asked.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Splayed hand held in the air. Yeah, yeah. Lets *do* this."

She *so* better get a bonus.

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Spike woke when he felt a cold, wet sucker upon his cheek. He opened his eyes, but didn't pull away. Maybe if *it* pulled away first it wouldn't sting him. He had enough Bleathvore venom in him to kill a horse or five, he was sure. He smiled charmingly and said "Hello" to the Bleathvores gathered around the cage. The tentacle was withdrawn and he wasn't stung. Spike grinned and pushed his Sire from him. He watched Angel roll to his side, still asleep. He felt a sting of pride to know that he had fucked his Sire so well that the pouf didn't wake; didn't even blink an eye. Damn, but he was good.

Bleathvore 3: "What did it say?"

Bleathvore 5: "Goodbye? That is what it *sounded* like. Do you think it speaks our tongue?" He looked at the others. "Where does it think it's going, anyway?"

Bleathvore 2: "Maybe it can speak our tongue. If so, we really *could* sell it!"

Bleathvore 3: "Sell it to who? A Keskicainiovre could utter my tongue, but still, I would not wish to *own* one. Same with this vampire. Let us await our brother. If they can be sold or traded he will let us know."

Bleathvore 5: Contemptuous snort. "He will find neither buyer nor trader for these things."

Bleathvore 2: "It did not bite you again."

Bleathvore 5: "Obviously it is *tired*. You have *seen* what it has just done. Would you not be tired after such exersision?"

Bleathovre 2: "Perhaps it not biting you is *learned* behavior." He looked at 5. "I am sure you do not taste good."

Bleathvore 5: "I am certainly most pleasing to *any* taste buds! Even vampire ones! A tasty treat to be sure!"

All other Bleathvores: "Snicker."

Spike moved closer to the cage, pulling up his pants and fastening them on his way. "Shall we play, mates?" He made shuffling and dealing motions with his hands, as if he held a deck of cards and continued in what he hoped was their language. "Cards? Play? Wager?"

All Bleathvores: "Did he say *challenge*?"

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"So? Are we ready to do this?" Xander asked again, stalling.

"Yes! Let's *go* already, before I change my mind!"

Xander gave the door a hard push and walked in, Wes and Cordy close behind him. He moved to the bar quickly, Wes went to the end of it, his back against the wall; Cordy stood close by the door, the wall at her back, just as Xander had told her to.

The bartender gave the three humans a disinterested glance and continued his task of drying shot glasses. "We're closed."

The bar was, thankfully, almost empty. The vampires and demons that *did* inhabit it looked pretty much wasted. "That's okay. Good even. All I want is some information." Xander told the bartender.

The vampire sat the shot glass he was holding down on the bar and smiled at Xander. Smirked, really. It pissed Xander off. "Do you now? Are you willing to *die* for your information, boy?"

"No, *Sir.*" Xander pulled a handgun from his back and pointed it at the bartender's head. "But I'm willing to kill for it." He smiled.

The bartender picked up another shot glass and chuckled, unconcerned. He began to dry the glass. "I think maybe *you'll* die before *I* do."

"You think?" Xander pulled a crossbow out and aimed it at the bartender's chest, heart level. Xander kept the gun pointed at the vampire's head and smiled. "All I want is a little bit of information. I seem to have lost a friend of mine."

The bartender kept his hands on the bar and his eyes on Xander's crossbow. "Have you? *Boys*?"

The patrons of the bar began to stir, waking and murmuring. Xander held up his hand, fingers stretched wide. Cordy pulled a SuperSoaker water pistol from beneath Angel's coat, pointing it at the row of booths along the wall, Wesley pulled out the same with one hand and a ten-loaded crossbow with the other, knees locked and looking deadly, ready to unload both weapons.

"All I want is some information." Xander repeated, not looking away from the bartender. "I seem to have misplaced my vampire. He's about so high." Xander didn't move his weapons from the bartender. "Bleached blonde. Snippy. Bad attitude. You'd know if you'd met up with him."

Cordy shot out a stream of holy water, catching one vampire across his ear. She grinned. She'd been aiming at the back of his head. "*My* vampire is bigger. Dark and broody. He'd be quiet and reasonable, all nice like. And I want him *back*!"

The vampires gathered in the bar, exchanged looks.

First *one* snickered; then one more, did. And then another let loose a chuckle.

Then the group could no longer contain themselves and laughter rang through out the dark, dingy club.

"I'm not finding the funny." Xander told the vampire-bartender.

The bartender continued to laugh, really *trying* to hold in his chuckles as the guns were aimed at him. Xander sighed. "I'm thinking, *maybe*, you know where I can find my vampire. Share the joke."

The bartender just laughed harder.

Xander moved the pistol and shot the bartender's ear off. He was quite pleased that neither Wesley nor Cordelia flinched and inadvertanly shot someone. Or some*thing*. "Tell me."

"Shit! Stop! Don't shoot!" The vampire grabbed his ear, giving Xander a dirty look. "Shit! Bleathvores have them! One was in here not too long ago trying to sell them, or trade them for a case of tequila!" He snorted, "Like I'd trade good drink for a couple of vampires!" He stopped talking at Xander's narrow eyed gaze. "Um, he just left, though. I sent him to Kelly's, just down the road!"

Xander smiled. "Call Kelly's and get him back here. Tell him you have a buyer."

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Angel woke to Spike's and the Bleathvore's chatter. He was without his coat and his pants were up. He couldn't believe he had *slept*. He turned to look at Spike.

He couldn't believe what we was *seeing*! Spike had a pile of junk behind him, *his* coat at the bottom of it, and cards in his hands as he sat close to the bars, and all but one of the Bleathvores sat just outside of the cage, cards in *their* hands. His brows rose when Spike spit out a stream of incomprehensible gibberish. He raised his arm to check his watch. It was gone.

Bleathvore 2: "Yes! I *do* say your mother sucks the slime from a Vencore." He looked to the others and grinned. "While she mates with your favorite four to six legged type of home dwelling pet."

Spike snickered and slammed down a card.

All Bleathvores: Moan!

Several more pieces of junk were pushed carefully through the bars of the cage. The Je'dellian bowl among them.

"Spike?"

Spike whipped his head around to look at Angel. "Peaches!." He patted Angel's stomach. "Shh. Yer knocked up, pet. Don't upset our little one." Spike translated as best he could.

All Bleathvores *plus* Spike: Laughter.

"*What* are you doing? And *where* is my watch?"

"Just having a bit o' fun, Sire, waiting to see if we've been sold or traded. And sorry, but I seem to have lost yer watch." He tilted his head towards Bleathvore 5. Angel noted that the Bleathvore was wearing his watch on one of its lower tentacles. He scowled.

"I've just won the slayer-saving-thing-bowl, though and that's the *good* news. Bad news is I *think* I've lost our baby. I'm not too sure. Hey! These blokes speak a bit of Spanish! Imagine that. And they *don't* suck blood! Blood just wells up from the poison they inject. Neat, huh?"

Angel picked the Je'dellian bowl up and wrapped it carefully in his coat. "Sold? Or traded?"

Spike dealt cards. "Yeah. Profit-minded, these blokes are. Seems one of them went off to get a price or trade for us. Shit!" Spike reached behind him, grabbing a piece of hose and tossing it to the pile.

Bleathvore 5: "More! Not an equal bet."

Spike showed his fangs.

Bleathvore 5 raised two tentacles towards him.

"Fine! Fine!" Spike added an old red wig to the pile, causing Bleathvore 5 to grin.

Cards were looked at, studied; all but Bleathvore 5 and Spike folded.

Bleathvore 5: "I wish to have the dark ones lower limb."

"Sure. Oh, wait. I can't. It's attached to the rest of him."

Bleathvore 2: "The *covering*. You want only what encases the end of its lower limb."

Bleathvore 5. "Yes. What he said."

Spike nodded. "Give me yer shoe, Peaches."

"*What*?"

"Give me yer bleedin' *shoe*! I've got a bloody *fabulous* hand, here! Give me the shoe!"

Angel did. He was sure he'd never wear the slime-encrusted thing again, but he was hoping he wouldn't have to walk out of this place in his stocking feet. Or stocking foot.

Bleathvore 5: "Ha!"

Spike: "Well, hell." He turned to look at Angel, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry. Lost the shoe. Give me the other. Bet I can win it back."