Spike is the big bad vampire with a soul. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} blondie_bear) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} wariscoming,@ 2010-12-26 01:54:00 |
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WHAT: How Spike celebrates Christmas.
WHEN: Christmas evening.
WHERE: A local bar.
RATING: TBD.
The sound of glasses thumping against wood, the buzz of voices, and the rumble of various sports games streaming from the TV sets suspended throughout the room created the environment that the silver haired vampire had chosen for the evening. Long, black jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Spike sat quietly with his elbows propped against the edges of his table, blue eyes watching one of the football games playing out on the screens ahead of him with an air of pure disinterest. Sports. Hardly the most fascinating subject in the world for someone like Spike, who once found sport in the blood and death of innocents. Watching overgrown men jogging up and down a muddy field in tights didn't bring forth the same level of appeal to him, even now that he had a soul and was being forced to play nice with the civvies.
Rolling his eyes, Spike tipped his beer back and took a long drink. Sitting tucked away in some crap bar with a bunch of men who, like him, had nowhere and nothing better to do on Christmas was just plain sad. Spike wasn't afraid to admit it. This, right here, was incredibly pathetic. He could have been off celebrating the holiday with a loved one or kicking it back with his mates, but instead he was here. Why? Because, honestly, Spike had nowhere better to go. Not that it bothered him. It didn't. Christmas was a holiday that he had long since grown tired of. It was the same old thing, year after year. People praising Jesus Christ, while greedily snatching up every little present they could get their hands on for themselves. Usually, most of those people pretended that they were in it for the religion and the celebration of their savior, but when it came down to it, it was all about who spent the most on them and what they were getting out of it from their family, friends, and lovers alike.
Spike probably would have respected people a bit more around this time of the year if they would just up and admit that they were in it for the bloody presents. Obviously, Spike had his opinions. They were usually on the negative and extremely offensive side. Probably the reason why some of the locals had jokingly called him the Grinch when he had plopped down at his corner table, ordered his drinks, and told them all to fuck off.
Right, yeah. He could see where the whole Grinch thing had come in. Shrugging, Spike went back to his beer. Maybe later he'd be able to piss off one of the drunks. Have a few swings around the bar for his own twisted form of holiday cheer. He couldn't really help but brighten a little at the thought.