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souled_spike (souled_spike) wrote in free_form2,
@ 2008-04-29 19:33:00

A Horrible Idea
Bad dreams made Spike cranky. Always had.

And when Spike was cranky, he needed to hit something. Several times, preferably hard. Which was what brought Spike to wander the streets of Searchlight -- and he used the term street loosely -- in search of many nasties to butt heads with, and maybe even a vampire or two to dust.

Fortunately for the Champion, he just finished off one of the former. Some greasy bugger with a black mullet and this annoying-ass black tattoo on his forehead. The good news was, this vamp didn't seem to know or care who Spike was. The bad news, he kept mouthing off about some propehcy about a child.

He made no sense, so Spike killed him.

But dusting the vampire did little to calm Spike. He still fumed over the dream he'd had hours before, an odd tale in which Lorne had talked him into taking as trip to Japan to stop a popular children's show from killing children. That wasn't so bad -- neither was the Japanese warrior woman who obviously lusted after him -- but the fact that Spike and Lorne spent much of the dream was wee little puppet men was a bit irksome.

The telepathic fish didn't help matters, either.

A gust of wind brought an unfamiliar scent Spike's way. One quick sniff, and the vampire surmised it was human. Not one he knew, either, so with a sigh, Spike lit a cigarette and began to walk away.

"Might wanna go home, mate. Not safe out here at night."

[Thread open to NPC Agent Markowitz.]

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birthright_npc
2008-04-30 09:00 pm UTC (link)

"Your concern's admirable. But you're the reason I'm here. Can't leave until we have a few words."

Markowitz's voice was dry as he spoke, and he made no move to get closer. They had a full dossier on this one, and had found the old records from the days of the Initiative in a warehouse in Bozeman, Montana. Apparently Nevada had become a haven for recipients of the government's previous efforts to control the demon population.

The black-suited federal agent shifted his posture, made sure his headset was operational. "We'd have sent you an invite to our little pow-wow, but we didn't think you'd show. You and community service don't exactly mesh. So...congratulations, Mr. Spike, we came looking for you."

Farther back in the shadows, a trio of uniformed guards waited, tranq guns at the ready. To say that Spike had a reputation for being unpredicatble was like saying that the sun came up in the morning. They were taking no chances. "Care to give me a few minutes?"

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souled_spike
2008-04-30 09:13 pm UTC (link)

Spike shifted and squinted at the man talking to him. Black suit, really official-looking ... if the Champion didn't know any better, he would swear this was one of those government suits Faith told him about. And as much as he wanted to just walk and be done with this whole retarded endeavor, something told the vampire leaving wouldn't end well for him.

"Might as well," he snarled, puffing on his cigarette. "You ponces might stake me if I don't."

There were two things the government had no business sticking its nose in: religion and supernatural. People should be free to express and believe in the former, and the general run of humanity was nowhere near ready to handle the latter. If they were, the Initiative wouldn't have been such a failure.

Not that the truth made the scar on Spike's head any less real. The chip was long gone, but the vampire still felt violated over the whole thing.

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birthright_npc
2008-05-01 01:48 am UTC (link)

"Drama queen," one of the guards muttered, and Markowitz raised an intervening hand. "Talk first, stake later," he said to Spike in that same dry tone. "There's no reason we can't at least be civil. I suppose you already know what we're going to talk about. We've been keeping tabs on you from a distance, Mr. Spike. Given the change in your circumstances, you might be more ready to help the good guys."

The agent took a seat on one of the headstones, checking it first for debris. He steepled his fingers together and looked the vampire over. "You don't seem any worse the wear for your last stay with us," he remarked. "Then again, what's a little surgery compared to burning up from the inside out?"

He already had the papers that would require Spike's signature in his jacket pocket, having decided to forego the formality of a swearing-in ceremony, but he would probably need to make his spiel first. Some of their subjects needed more convincing than others. "What would you say to helping to make an even bigger difference, Mr. Spike?"

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souled_spike
2008-05-01 08:18 am UTC (link)

What was with this Mr. shit, anyway?

Spike frowned, trying not to let his distaste show too much. The man in the suit was right; there was no reason they couldn't be civil about this. Spike could turn the offer down, express how bad an idea he thought this was, without stooping to insult and risking death by sniper-stake.

He knew the man had backup; not just because it was smart to have backup, but because Spike could smell them whenever the wind picked up.

"I'd say I think this is a horrible idea," Spike offered, sitting on a headstone of his own, putting out his smoked cigarette on the slab. "Not your fault; bloke does what Uncle Sam tells him to. See, I know first-hand -- the government has no business sticking its sodding neck in this world.

"They're just not bloody ready for what they'll find."

Now, if Homeland Security trained a military unit that was nothing but Slayers and professional demon experts, that might be different. But from what he could tell from the Initiative, and what Faith told him about this operation, that wasn't the case.

Besides, Spike was already D.C.'s guinea pig once before; what was to stop them from poking around inside his head again? Especially since they knew he now had a soul.

"Sorry, mate, but Hostile 17'll have to pass."

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birthright_npc
2008-05-01 09:05 pm UTC (link)

"Mmm."

Roadblock number one had just been reached, and Markowitz examined the tops of his well-polished shoes. They were going to need it again before this night was over, more than likely. The damned Nevada sand could wreck a good pair of shoes in no time.

"Is that your final answer?" he asked Spike, and the question was mostly rhetorical. Resistance was to be expected from the vampire's sort, especially after the Initiative's bungling. But in different hands, this program could work. All it took was a little persuasion.

"You know, Ms. Lehane is next on my list for a visit," the agent said, leaning down to flick a few grains of sand off of one trouser cuff. "I figure I could at least try to net two birds as long as I'm down here, right? That's provided you're willing to change your mind." Markowitz coughed, sat up straighter.

"How do you suppose she liked prison? Enough to go back because you won't play ball?"

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souled_spike
2008-05-01 10:30 pm UTC (link)

Spike's gaze narrowed, and for a moment, he considered getting in the man's face and doing the whole threatening undead guy thing. Then again, this was an agent of the United States government, complete with backup, so breaking out the fangs and making with the anger would probably not end well for Spike.

So the vampire merely lit up another smoke, folded his arms across his chest and sucked in his cheeks. It seemed no matter what decision Spike made would wind up being the wrong one, so he was likely stuck in this cemetary hearing the guy out.

"I don't sign up, she goes to jail?" the Champion mused, smirking to himself. "Nice try, mate. Faith isn't one to do things she doesn't want to."

Another sigh.

"But I'll hear you out," he grumbled. "Do I at least get to know who the sod you are?"

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birthright_npc
2008-05-02 02:48 am UTC (link)

This was not the part of Markowitz's job that he liked. Threats and coercion worked, in their own way, but he preferred a more soft-sell approach. Appeal to someone's sense of right and wrong, tell them about the good the program was trying to accomplish, that was more his style.

Then again, Spike was clearly the sort to be defiant no matter how much good he could accomplish by playing along, and so maybe threats would work better. "Who said it involved what she wanted?"

The agent withdrew a card from his jacket and handed it to the vampire gingerly. "Josiah Markowitz," he said, declining to offer a handshake. Better not to give the vamp any ideas. "Formerly of the CIA, currently of the Department of Homeland Security. I guess the jokers back in Washington decided they could use one of the spook squad out here." Pause. "Good call for them."

He looked at the burning tip of Spike's cigarette for a moment, then continued. "The Initiative was a crock," he said bluntly. "And the people who were in charge of it are no longer around. If that's what's bothering you, it shouldn't. This is a whole new era, and we've got a different goal now. Detain and control the worst offenders, get the more peaceful sorts to help us with that. As you're no longer one of the worst offenders, we'd like you to work with us. Isn't that what you've been doing already for the past few years, taking the troublemakers out of the picture?"

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souled_spike
2008-05-02 07:22 pm UTC (link)

Agent Markowitz was right, Spike had to at least give him that much. And though it's possible his crack about the Initiative was pandering designed to get on the vampire's good side, but it seemed genuine enough. Spike glanced at the business card, making a mental note to himself over how the government seemed to at least learned that covert wasn't always better.

"If I were to give you my John bloody Hancock," Spike began, suddenly unsure of what to do, "I want your word. No experiments. No poking and prodding. No trying to find out what makes us tick.

"I've had my fill of brain surgery."

Another glance of the business card, before giving Markowitz another discerning glare. "I trust we're not going upblic with this? No press conferences and exlcusives with Fox News?"

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birthright_npc
2008-05-03 05:54 pm UTC (link)

Markowitz stared back at the vampire through the lenses of his tinted glasses, a smirk touching the corners of his mouth. "Trust me, Mr. Spike, if we wanted you on an operating table, you'd already be there. But times have changed, like I said. I give you my guarantee, any brain surgery in your future won't be coming from us."

The agent paused long enough to give the cemetary a slightly contemptuous glance, then continued somewhat pointedly, "Besides, if you come work for us, you can get out of this graveyard. Wouldn't it be nice to live openly for a change? To not have to worry your roof falling in on your head some afternoon while you're napping?" Calculated pause. "To get the respect you deserve? I mean, you're a world-saver, right? You ought to have better company than snakes and scorpions."

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souled_spike
2008-05-05 01:12 am UTC (link)

Respect you deserve.

For some reason, those words resonated in Spike's head. They were likely just a way for Markowitz to get into Spike's head, a way to get the vampire to listen to what he had to say, but damn if it wasn't working.

What moments ago was a terrible idea suddenly seemed at least worth consideration.

"And what exactly would I be doing?" the Champion mused. "Don't suppose you need another Hellmouth closed or another law firm blown to tiny bits?"

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birthright_npc
2008-05-05 12:38 pm UTC (link)

"Its nothing that earth-shaking," Markowitz replied with a headshake. The hook was almost in. He knew an egotist when he saw one; when you worked in Washington for long enough, you learned to spot them at a distance and turn their natural self-importance to your own advantage. "You'd be part of the registration program, to get those who want to cooperate to sign what's basically a non-aggression agreement. For those who don't, there's detention, incarceration, and...persuasion to see reason. I'm not at liberty to discuss that at any length, not without your name on the dotted line."

The agent shifted, then stood up, because the headstone was getting damned uncomfortable. He brushed at the seat of his black pants, wondered what his dry-cleaning bill was going to be like that month, then looked back at the vampire.

"Sorry I can't offer more excitement," he said dryly. "But we're genuinely doing good work, making a fair amount of progress. We just need a few more experienced hands at the wheel, that's all."

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souled_spike
2008-05-05 02:16 pm UTC (link)

Spike gave a noncommital hmm, taking another drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt aside and pulling another smoke out of his pack.

But rather than light the cigarette and start puffing away, Spike merely sat there, sitting in silent contemplation for a few moments. The United States government -- the very entity that a decade ago captured the vampire and turned him into a helpless puppy with a computer chip -- was standing here offering Spike a job, a chance to do Uncle Sam's bidding by recruiting supernaturals for America's cause and dealing with the more ... unruly cases.

Yet, in spite of Chipgate, Spike couldn't deny the offer had some appeal. Spike had spent the last several months trying to find his own way in things, a place of his own where he didn't have to play second-fiddle to a Slayer or another vampire with a soul, and even though he'd answer to Homeland Security, this chance seemed to possibly fit that bill.

"No perky blonde Slayers?" Spike mused. "Or other ensouled vampires with large foreheads fond of nancy-boy hair gel?"

Cause if either of them were involved in this, Spike's mind was made up. And Markowitz wouldn't have liked the answer.

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birthright_npc
2008-05-06 05:24 pm UTC (link)

"We're in the market for something a little more subtle," Markowitz said with a raised eyebrow. Not that the idea hadn't been suggested back in D.C., but it had been discarded as unfeasible. Buffy Summers was the oldest living Slayer there was, a legend among everyone who knew anything about the existence of the supernatural. And as for Angel, no one had been able to locate his whereabouts in several years. It was as if he'd dropped off the face of the earth, although no evidence of him being actually destroyed could be found either. While both of them would have been very effective at the work Washington required, their names alone would have sent any self-preserving vampire or demon running in the other direction. But while subtle might not have been in Spike's vocabulary, he could generally follow orders.

If not? He'd find himself on the recieving end of the government's hospitality again, even if surgery wasn't in the cards this time. They'd turn him over to Agent Hutchinson, who was doing some wonderful work for them with dislocating shoulders and then popping them back into place with her bare hands. Markowitz had been in this game for a long time, and even he had to be a little impressed at her ingenuity...and hand strength.

"So what do you think, Mr. Spike? Does it sound like a good deal to you?"

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souled_spike
2008-05-06 06:34 pm UTC (link)

"Government job, eh?" Spike mused, taking a long puff on his cigarette. "Good pay, job security, yeah?"

Because truth be told, having enough income to afford an actual place to live instead of shacking up in a crypt in a cemetery was something to look forward to. And Spike would be lying if he said we wasn't at least considering the thought of joining this little operation.

Even with Spike's hang-ups about the government being involved in the supernatural -- if Riley was a part of this, Spike was going to kill someone -- he couldn't deny the chance to go out there and make a name for himself. All of Spike's heroic gestures over the years were as a sidekick -- he closed the Hellmouth while Buffy helped bring thousands of Slayers into the world, and he helped Angel bring down the Circle of the Black Thorn and destroy Wolfram & Hart Los Angeles.

This time, no sidekicks. Just Spike being a hero. On his own, his own man. Even if it was for Uncle Sam, it was the kind of opportunity Spike had clamored for in recent years.

So to refuse would be just stupid.

"Hope you brought a pen, mate. Or do you want me to sign in blood?"

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birthright_npc
2008-05-08 01:32 pm UTC (link)

Markowitz's normally saturnine expression was suddenly graced with a smile, and he reached into his coat pocket to fish out the official papers and a pen. He hadn't expected Spike to agree to it, not really, and he had dreaded the prospect of having to haul the vampire into custody once his armed escort utilized their tranq guns. But this way was easier, and he wondered if he wouldn't get some kind of nod from his superiors over bringing in one of the more difficult case subjects to work for them.

"You just sign here, and here," he said, indicating the two necessary places for signatures before seating himself on the tombstone again. "Normally there'd be a whole swearing-in to go with it, but I think we can forego that. I can give you a temporary badge now, and you can pick up your official identifitcation later."

The agent turned and gave the thumbs-up to the lead uniformed operative, who nodded curtly and stood halfway down, his weapon lowering a little. "Welcome to Project Intergration, Mr. Spike. We're glad to have you on-board."

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souled_spike
2008-05-08 02:14 pm UTC (link)

Spike smirked as she signed on the papers where told, momentarily finding humor in his decided lack of a last name. Well, he had one at some point, but that was some many years -- and a pulse -- ago, Spike couldn't really remember what it was.

Besides, the government was signing William the Bloody Awful Poet; they were signing Spike.

"Drop the Mr., mate," he said with a cheeky grin. "Not like I'm the head of a massive law firm or anything."

Spike still wasn't completely convinced Project Integration was a great idea -- still had issues with the federal government poking its head into the supernatural -- but more than anything, the vampire saw this as an opportunity to finally make his own mark on things.

No sidekick, no second fiddle. This was Spike's thing.

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