Gods And Monsters

Chapter Twenty-four:

The night was coming to an end, and the sleek silhouette of a black, nineteen fifty-nine DeSoto Fireflite travelled down the road at forty miles per hour. The windows had been blacked out with spray paint in order to prevent an unpleasant death by sunlight during the daytime.

Spike sat behind the steering wheel, his gaze occasionally straying from the road ahead to check on Hel.

She was slouched in the passenger seat to his right, feet propped up on the dashboard, and inspecting her severely bruised knuckles. Aside from a few minor abrasions and a dull headache, she had walked away from the encounter unharmed. She soon lost interest in her hands.

Leaning her shoulder against the door and resting her head against the window, Hel closed her eyes briefly. The glass pane chilled the bare skin of her temple.

Lifting her head, she stole a sidelong glance at Spike when his attention was elsewhere. She admired his profile. Her gaze followed the angular cut of his cheekbones and strong contour of his jaw. His mouth caught her eye when the tip of his tongue darted out to wet the supple, pale pink flesh of his lower lip. She could study his face for eons and not get bored.

Straightening, Hel leaned over and switched on the radio.

Upon recognising the song that was currently on, she cranked up the volume. "I Wanna Be Sedated", by The Ramones, played from the stereo and flooded the small space.

Pleasantly surprised, he glanced over at her. "You like the Ramones?"

"Of course." She replied, as if it should have been glaringly obvious to him.

At this, he reached over and turned it up even louder, until it blared out of the car speakers. Then, he began tapping his hand against his thigh to the beat and humming the lyrics. The hum evolved to singing along, and she threw him a wide-eyed, disbelieving glance.

"Twenty-twenty-four hours to go, I wanna be sedated! Nothing to do, no where to go-oh, I wanna be sedated! Just put me in a wheelchair, get me on a plane. Hurry hurry hurry, before I go insane! I can't control my fingers, I can't control my brain! Oh no oh oh oh!"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm singing along to this song and you can't stop me, so either deal with it or join me." Spike flashed her an enthusiastic smile.

Laughing incredulously, Hel shook her head, and his grin widened.

"Twenty-twenty-four hours to go, I wanna be sedated! Nothing to do, no where to go-oh, I wanna be sedated! Just put me in a wheelchair, get me to the show. Hurry hurry hurry, before I go loco! I can't control my fingers, I can't control my toes! Oh no oh oh oh!"

He proceeded to belt out lyrics at the top of his lungs, head banging, and a genuine smile broke across her face. In spite of herself, she joined in. His actions were a deliberate attempt at getting through to her, and he had succeeded.

"Ba-ba ba-ba ba-ba ba-ba, I wanna be sedated! Ba-ba ba-ba ba-ba ba-ba, I wanna be sedated! Ba-ba ba-ba ba-ba ba-ba, I wanna be sedated!"

Cruising down Revello Drive, he smoothly pulled his car over and parked alongside the curb in front of the Summer's residence, number sixteen-thirty. They sat there a moment longer, in silence, waiting until the song came to a close. Spike turned the key and shut off the engine.

She stretched her stiff muscles, slowly twisting her lower back from one side to the other in order to crack her spine.

His attention was caught when her shirt lifted slightly and exposed a linear white scar above her right hip, about an inch and a half in length. "Where did you get that from?" He inquired, turning in his seat to face her.

Puzzled at first, she glanced at him questioningly, then followed his gaze. Hel smiled fleetingly at the memory behind the mark. "A rather grouchy dwarf who wasn't overly fond of me."

He regarded her curiously, his lips curving into a smug, lopsided smile. "Would I be correct in assuming he wasn't the only one?"

She returned his characteristic smirk with one of her own. "Indeed you would be."

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "I'd wager you have more than just the one scar, then."

"Correct again." She confirmed.

"Go on then, show 'em off." Spike encouraged, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling as his smile broadened.

"Very well." She lifted her white t-shirt and pointed to an impressive scar below the left side of her ribcage. "This one was given to me by a pathetic man who thought himself a superior warrior. He challenged me to a duel, and this was the only strike he got away with before I saw to his execution myself."

Lowering her shirt, Hel held out her hand to show him the faded remnants of a scratch across the top of it. "This was from an Asgardian palace guard. He had a severe case of wandering hands, so I cut them off."

He took her hand in the palm of his and studied the marks. They appeared to be inflicted by a slash of nails. He raised his head, gazing at her in awe.

"That is remarkably ruthless and cold blooded." A slow, soft smile played on his lips. "I approve." 

She smiled, appreciative of the compliment.

Turning her hand over, he frowned when he noticed the numerous, horizontal pink lines that striped her pale wrists. Realisation dawning on him, Spike lifted his head and speared her with his eyes. "And these?"

She yanked her hand from his gentle grasp, hastily covering her wrists with the cuffs of his navy blue shirt. "None of your concern."

He watched her open the passenger side door and exit the car in stunned silence.

Coming to his senses, he scrambled out after her. He slammed his door shut behind him, running after her and ensnaring her wrist in the vice-grip of his fingers. Hel allowed him to stop her. "Look, I'm sorry if I upset you."

"You didn't." She replied curtly. "Now, if you don't mind—" She tried to pull away, but his hold didn't loosen.

"I do mind, actually."

"Why?"

Releasing her wrist, Spike shoved his hands into the front pockets of his black jeans. "Because from what I know of you, Hel, you are the last person whose bad side I want to be on." He offered her a tentative smile.

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms defiantly. "How do you know you aren't already on my bad side?"

He chuckled quietly and shook his head, in disbelief of her. "You're insufferable."

"Thank you."

His eyes lingered on hers a moment longer, reluctant to stray, before tearing themselves away. He glanced over her shoulder, at the horizon. Sunrise was only minutes away.

"Well, I'd best be off. The sun will be up soon." His gaze returned to hers. With a smirk, Spike bent forward in a shallow bow. "Good day to you, m'lady." Straightening, he spun on the spot and swaggered back to his black DeSoto.

Hel stood there and watched as he pulled away. She waited until his car disappeared around the corner, then headed inside.