First Stanza - [Action & Voice]

[deadpoet]

[Action, Locked to Willow]
[A few moments before Spike arrived, he and Illyria had just escaped most of the main action and a great big bloody dragon come out of nowhere. He'd lost track of Angel and Gunn. Wesley was dead. So now it was just the two of them. Until Spike suddenly came to the surface of the river, cursing as he suddenly started burning and then swimming back underwater again until he could hide under the shade of the bridge. A bloody tiny bridge. And here he was with only a pair of white pants, now failing to hide much of anything, as he ended up STUCK in this tiny shadow. There was a book in the sunlight that was just out of reach. As the day passed on, it continued to get further away from him as the sun shifted the shadows further and further away.

What bollocks.

He decided he'd just wait until the first person came across the bridge and get their attention. That ought to do it.]

[Action/Voice, Open To All]

[Well, Willow took him 'home'. And he rather decided he liked it. Of course, a vamp can't make himself good and comfy without the proper accouterments. So after taking a nice long shower in House Seven, perusing the kitchen, and no doubt making his new housies terrible uncomfortable, he makes his way out as soon as it's evening. In his New Feather pants at first, because what else was there? But his first stop is the clothing store and he's soon back into slimming back. And then it's off to pick out a fancy weapon, get some blood at Good Spirits, find some smokes, recollect his lighter, and then snoop around town because he knows a certain old flame is around here. Not you, Buffy.

Around midnight, he hits up the journal after finally recollecting it from beside the bridge.]

This is a nice little village you lot have here. Very cozy. Has a certain quality to it, you might say. Very Shyamalan-type setting. Too cheerful. Downright unsettling, if you ask me.

Anyway, who do I talk to for the big plan? I've done my sitting around already. Relaxing, sure. Not too fond of the wings. Too ironic for my taste. But I'm ready to go and find the wankers who locked us up in here and do something about it. Champion of the people, right here. Just point me in the right direction.

Comments

[touchofrogue]

...never say hesitation didn't have its merits. Rogue had no idea who the half-naked man with a pair of pretty black and red wings was, but she always had liked that combination. And he had a very nice back. And by the way he was standing in the fork in the road, it looked like he needed some help.

Mmm. Time to do my good deed of the day.

"Hey," she called out to the stranger, approaching him. "Ya need the 'I don't know where I am an' what are these wings on my back' speech or just a point in the right direction?"

She was still in the flirty yellow dress with the hazardous cleavage dip and patterned stockings from earlier that day, but she had a bag slung over her shoulder containing her X-Man uniform in case she did make her way down to the Battle Dome.

[deadpoet]

He turned right on around and took a quick look over, complete with the usual peering head tilt. An admirable front view, with quite the flattering dress. He liked what he saw. The hairdo was nice too. A nice white streak. A little hair dye went a long way.

"Already past the first, love. Working towards the second. But I could use a tour guide."

1/2

[touchofrogue]

Now. While it was possible for this to be just any British man with platinum blond hair and stunning cheekbones, Rogue had spent hours watching Buffy. And like any self-respecting fangirl, she'd memorized James Marsters' Spike's mannerisms. And that head tilt was unmistakable.

Oh. My. Gawd.

Excuse her as she blinks for a moment like a deer in headlights.

[touchofrogue]

This - this could be very good. Or very bad. If she was right. Because - other universes and all that.

But then there was also a question of timing. Rogue didn't particularly want to get eaten, but then - if she was right - she was a lot better equipped to deal with the attempt than your average Lucetian.

...ugh, she really wouldn't want Spike's memories in her head. But. She could take it. He could be buddies with Sabertooth. Her gloved hand tightened on the strap of her bag.

"I reckon I'm qualified for that position." She couldn't really help it, her gaze flickered from his eyes down and then up again. A quick 'check him out' but. Nice.

Rogue, you're certifiable.

"I'd say I'd hafta charge ya, but--" she shrugged, her posture still more on guard. "I was bored anyway."

[deadpoet]

He wasn't being threatening. But that meant nothing with vampires. It was always smooth moves with the women. Wait until they're in a back alley before making a move. You didn't eat by just preying on a woman right in front of her home. That was reckless.

But Spike wasn't looking for a meal. He rather appreciated the fact he was being checked out in turn. Obvious, by the small smirk he was wearing.

"Glad to hear it. From what I hear, there's no money to be paid anyway. I'd have left it in my other pants anyway."

[touchofrogue]

He didn't need to be threatening. If she was right, Rogue knew what he was. Knew that he'd wait until she was alone - and well. Wouldn't that be a surprise for him if he tried it, unless he reached out and snapped her neck first, she'd have to watch for that and wasn't this the best way to figure out if he was a threat or not?

She stepped towards him, meeting the smirk on his lips with a wry quirk of her own and nodding towards those thin linen pants. "Speakin' of, I'm guessin' the Clothing Shop is in your Top 5 Must Hit Places along this tour?"

[deadpoet]

"I'd credit you for a good guess, but that bit's a little obvious. Not that I don't mind the admiring looks. But I'm better in black than I do in white."

Still no move on his part. He maintained his smirk with his head tilted. Almost like he was teasing her to make another move.

[touchofrogue]

It takes more than someone stating that they'd noticed her noticing to get Rogue flustered, even ifit was with a voice like that. She didn't come any closer, but she mirrored his head tilt in a slight challenge, "Not that I mind the view, but recent incursions aside we do try ta be hospitable here. I'd get the Good Neighborhood Association after me if I let ya wander around riskin' a draft."

She raised her eyebrows. So? We going?

[deadpoet]

Tough, this one. He liked her already. The old Spike would fancy making her a vampire. The new Spike...

Well, he'd settle for a coffee.

"Lucky for me I'm used to the cold. But by all means, lead the way."

[touchofrogue]

Rogue was still wary, and really didn't fancy letting him walk behind her. So she nodded and moved forward, coming alongside him, but she'd go no further if he didn't start to move as well.

She forced herself to let go of the strap of her back and gestured in the right direction, "Right this way."

[deadpoet]

It was a fair decision. Vampire or not. A woman had to be careful, after all. Especially around strange men with spectacular hair.

Speaking of.

"Nice hair, by the way. Very X-Man. Looks even better on you than it did on Anna Paquin."

[touchofrogue]

Anna-

She almost didn't hear anything after that. Fortunately, it had come at the end of his statement.

She stopped short and looked at him, and then up in the sky with exasperation, "Oh good Lord."

Because. Seriously?

[deadpoet]

He took that to mean an entirely different thing. The whole concept of the 'fourth wall' hadn't quite hit him yet.

"Look, I just saw the movies, right? I'm no comic book nerd or anything like that. I just end up with a lot of time to kill, is all."

[touchofrogue]

She moved one hand up to her temple to massage it with gloved fingers and help her shove back the sudden onslaught of psyches. If Spike attacked right now, she'd be so screwed. Logan would be disappointed. She really had to get these psyches under control, but nothing seemed to help...

"Right. 'Marie.' I heard about her."

From Buffy, as a matter of fact. She dropped her hand to her hip and cocked it, her body taking on an S curve. She met his gaze.

"She sounded lame."

That's right. This is the genuine article.

[deadpoet]

Still oblivious, he could only nod lightly. "Bit of a whiner, if you ask me."

He remembered being in the basement one night in Sunnydale as Andrew and Xander got into talking about it. Spike had only vaguely paid attention to it at the time. But there was quite the heated argument-- no, agreement, about comic Rogue being that much better. All very geeky and Spike had tried to tune it out.

"Decent movies, if you like that sort of thing. Maybe once I get out of this place, I'll live long enough for the third."

[touchofrogue]

And so, Rogue was faced with a choice - honesty or avoidance.

On the one hand, hot guy she was likely about to scare off. On the other, there was pretty much a fifty/fifty shot that he was an evil vampire who was just setting her up to try and kill her.

Meh.

She tucked a white strand of hair behind her ear and smiled with a little devil-may-care and a little wry amusement that might be close to pain. "I don't think I'm gonna get ta see 'em. In my Earth, the only time X-Men are on TV is if they're flashin' bad pictures for wanted ads or filming us fightin'."

She pauses a moment, "I sure ain't that Rogue."

Marie. Honestly.

"But I am Rogue." She shrugged a little, "Nice ta meetcha."

[deadpoet]

He stared at her incredulously. Rogue. Really. The real Rogue. The one Xander and Andrew liked to talk about.

Well. Bloody hell. He had wings on his back. Why not?

"Spike." That was his answer. One made up name to to the other. "A vampire. Seems only fair to let you know, seeing as I know your secret already."

The whole zap-zap thing. He didn't seem too worried.

[touchofrogue]

Well, she wasn't going to feign surprise at the name drop, but then, she didn't really have to because she was surprised at the blatant 'a vampire' tag on. Since it wasn't followed by him going 'grr' and coming after her, maybe this was from a point in his timeline when he wasn't walking around looking for happy meals on legs.

Didn't hurt to check before sharing a bit of her own news.

"You're not gonna try an' eat me, are ya?"

[deadpoet]

"Not that you don't look scrumptious, but I'm on a no-human diet these days. Ensouled and all that."

Casually. Still walking and only taking a moment to look her over again as he said 'scrumptious'.

[touchofrogue]

"I'm flattered," because don't think she didn't notice that looking-over, and hey, she's there's nothing wrong with a little mutual appreciation, even if it's from someone who... is... apparently... Spike.

At least he's got his soul.

She flashed a quick grin at him, "Don't think I'd normally take a vampire's word on somethin' like that. But while we're bein' all fair an' all, you should know - I've heard of you 'bout the same way you've heard of me."

So yeah, that's right - she totally went on this walk with you to figure out when you were from. Well. One of main the reasons.

[deadpoet]

He was a bit slow processing that. He gave her a skeptical look, trying to figure out what exactly she meant.

"Well I know I've got a big reputation, but I didn't much think it carried over into other worlds. Clearly I've not giving myself enough credit, have I?"

[touchofrogue]

That's sort of hard to imagine.

"Look, all I'm sayin' is don't be too surprised if ya end up with some fanboy or fangirl starin' at you. It's pretty much agreed that you're the hot one."

She delivered that with utmost casualness. Barely glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, in fact. She didn't feel casual about it, though - first, because she was very nearly hitting on Spike, and secondly, because she hated this entire subject of conversation. But it was only fair. She was sure he'd hear it elsewhere and at least she knew how to deal with things like this. Rogue was all-too used to knowing more about people's lives than she should, and she really didn't want to get into discussing just what did or didn't line up with Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

[deadpoet]

Pieces were being put together in his head. She knew who he was. He had fangirls. And fanboys. And not just the Andrew variety. Or starstruck vampires. Ordinary people fans. Sit at home and watch TV sorts of fans.

"Oh bloody hell." He stared at her. "I've a TV show, don't I? So what is it? Spike and Friends? How the Big Bad went and got a bloody soul?"

[touchofrogue]

Rogue's problem, really, was that she was honest. She could spin this; she knew all the right words to move straight into alternate versions of selves and comfort, and little truths misapplied to make a web of conclusions mounted out of truths and turn them into a lie. She'd been played by the best, and she knew all the rules.

But she hadn't told him this out of any great concern for him - true, that was there, in part, because she wanted him to have a warning. Learning about it the way that she had had been fairly awful. She hadn't told him this because she'd been struck into a fangirl frenzy by the sight of his naked chest, razor cheekbones, and charismatic charm.

She'd told him this because if he was going to react badly to it, she'd rather it happen to her.

So she met his stare with one of her own, her gaze firm and slightly sympathetic, "Yeah, it pretty much sucks."

Pause a beat and more honesty, "But if it makes ya feel any better, you're not the headliner."

[deadpoet]

Spike could be angry about a lot of things. This was an annoyance, but it was nothing more than that. There were bigger things on the line. Like getting out of this place. Working things out with Buffy. Spoiling her romance with her new boy. Oh, and of course, the big one.

"Well it better bloody well not be Angel."