Work Text:
Martian Madness
by Lucinda
Spike drummed his fingers against the steel arms of the wheelchair. There was nothing to shield him from the harshness of it, no foamed padding, not even some cloth bolted or even wrapped over the arms. He hated it. A steel and rubber contraption, enabling him to sit or wheel himself around while contemplating his weakness. Weakness was vulnerability.
Dru had done nothing to help him. No offers of her blood, no efforts to bring in Angelus, or Angel, or whatever he called himself to offer his blood, she wasn't even bringing him humans to feed on. It was as if she thought bringing him the chair absolved her of all further care-taking.
Such a generous reward for taking care of her all these years. For the decades of guiding her after Angelus had gone away, after Darla's fit in China and the Slayer that he'd killed. After hauling her away from that mob in Prague, when she'd nearly been killed, and risking so much to bring her back to health. She was healthy again. Bloody lot of good that it did him.
"Such a nice puppy... Will you be good for mummy? Will you taste nice and sweet?" She glided across the floor, one hand clutching a strip of leather that led to an improvised choke-collar on a dog. Apparently she'd decided to have herself a dog tonight instead of a stupid teenager.
But this dog... Something wasn't right about it. The silhouette was wrong. It almost looked like... yes, the dog was wearing some sort of helmet, with a hair-crest, almost like the Roman centurions had. And there was a strange sort of skirt-flower looking thing strapped around just behind the dog's ribs. It's feet looked swollen... no, those were some sort of boots.
And it was green.
Blinking, Spike rubbed his eyes, wondering if Dru's madness was contagious. Or was hunger making him hallucinate? Dogs weren't green. They didn't wear booties or helmets. But there it was. The dog was still green and wearing those strange things as Dru towed it behind her.
Apparently, the dog wasn't as silly as its costume, because all four feet were planted ont he floor, and it appeared to be straining backwards, trying to brace against forward motion. It wasn't really working, but it showed that the dog had a bit of sense. Or maybe it was an instinct for survival?
Spike clenched his teeth, and turned the chair, slowly taking himself to the front of the factory. He didn't want to hear Dru playing with the dog before she decided to eat it. He didn't want to loiter around on the chance that someone would be dumb enough to wander in, and the minions never brought back left-overs.
The air was cool, and the breeze carried the usual assortment of smells. Trash, fish, sea air, car exhaust, cigarette smoke, spilled beer from that terrible bar down the street... Maybe he could get a drunk staggering towards the parking lot. What a pitiful state he was reduced to now...
"Where has that silly beast gone?" The voice was... odd. There was an accent that he couldn't place, and an odd resonance.
The strange voice came closer, with a whistle. "Here boy! Come here! Where could he have gone off to? I told him not to wander."
For the second time that night, Spike wondered if he was hallucinating. The voice belonged to a small... creature. It couldn't be more than three feet tall at the most, possibly a bit less. There was a large helm with a crest, and another one of those ridiculous looking skirty-flower things, and very thin arms and legs, with rounded plompy boots and white gloves. It didn't smell like a human or any sort of demon species that he recognized, and there didn't seem to be any sort of facial features in the shadow of the helm.
Thinking that it would probably be a bad idea, Spike took a breath and spoke. "Hey, you. You lost a dog. Is it about so high, green, and has a helmet, boots, and... what do you call that thing anyhow?"
"Thing?" The being drew itself up straight, still looking rather small and unthreatening. "I am an advance scout from the Martian Royal Space Fleet, here to determine the best location from which to destroy the Earth. Unfortunately, my assistant K-9 seems to have disappeared."
"Destroy the..." Spike paused, part of him wanting to laugh at the absurdity and another part deeply worried. "Why destroy the Earth?"
"The King believes that it is an unsightly impediment to a good view of the sun." The creature almost reminded him of a stubborn clerk in that moment. "Do you know where K-9 is?"
"I saw him. He was being... Well, that doesn't matter. He's in an abandoned factory down the road, and if you hurry, you might get there before she eats your dog."
"Eats...? No, that's simply unacceptable. I don't know where he packed the Elludium-23 Detonators, or the P-19 Explosives. How will I destroy the Earth without the proper equipment?" The Martian pulled something from his tiny belt, and dropped what looked like a see to the concrete, where it landed in a puddle of mostly beer. As he was going through the other pockets in his belt, the seed began to swell and flutter, eventually becoming a seven foot almost pear shaped yellow bodied thing with an odd feathery tuft on the top of its head and tiny eyes. It was swaying slightly, and had a slightly goofy smile. There was a jerk as the new thing hiccuped.
"Hmmm, the dehydrated Martian must have landed in a puddle. Not to worry. You, push the contraption to bring him with me. He may be of use later." The Martian started towards the factory, again calling for his dog. "Here boy! K-9!"
The large creature began pushing the wheelchair, smelling strongly of beer.
It didn't take long to reach the factory, and Spike sighed as the drunken no-longer dehydrated Martian almost ran him into a wall and then almost ran over the short Martian Fleet Scout. He could hear Dru singing something in the back.
"Insufferable... It's so hard to get decent help. Can you bring K-9 back out? This lump seems most incapable of anything at the moment." The tiny Scout glared at the swaying Martian minion.
"Right. So, what are you called anyhow?" Spike wheeled the chair away a bit, glad to be a bit farther from the mingled scent of Martian and beer, which mixed poorly.
"I am Marvin." The small Martian was again searching for something in his belt compartments.
"Right. Marvin the Martian... I'll go see about your dog." Spike wheeled towards the back, half convinced that all of this would just be a strange dream.
Dru was twirling around, setting delicate cups onto a plate while the dog was trying to gnaw through the leather strap with a look of wide-eyes panic. Spike just shook his head.
"Luv, that dog has an owner." He decided to try the simple method first. "Marvin would like to have the green dog back."
"No." Dru pouted at him, her lip quivering just a bit as she looked at him. The expression had always caused him to give in to her before. "He's cute and looks tasty, and I found him."
"Luv, he wants his dog back." Spike frowned, feeling annoyed at Dru. She'd been neglecting him, leaving him to starve as she mooned over Angelus, and now he was expected to bend to her whims again? "You can't just take everybody's dog away."
"He can't have him. I shall keep him, and pet him, and we shall have tea." Her eyes flickered yellow as she glanced towards the dog. "grrr-ruff!"
Beyond the room, he heard the clattering as the large doors opened, a sure sign that the minions had returned. He wondered how Marvin and his drunken minion would do.
"Tommy and his boys will take care of the mean, short man. I will keep the dog, and he will be a little snack. Too bad that you'll miss it all, my Spike." She turned away from him, plucking a doll from the shelf to place at the table for tea.
Spike leaned closer, and lifted the loop of leather from the post where she'd secured the dog. Motioning for quiet, he turned the wheelchair, and began making his way slowly from the room. Let Dru think that she'd shamed and defeated him. Let her fuss over her dolls and teacups.
The dog followed him out of the room, with a curiously crouching gait that suggested the green beast was trying to escape notice as well. Spike let the door swing slowly shut, glad of the uncooperative hinges for the first time.
The minions had returned, and were now fighting a whole batch of those pear-shaped yellow rehydrated Martians. It didn't look like the Martian minions were very good at fighting, but they didn't seem to notice when they got hit, and apparently the smell or the thick yellow fur prevented the minions from biting them. Spike guessed that it would be a slow fight that would eventually go in the Martians favor.
He wheeled closer to Marvin. "I got your dog. Of course, I'd rather you didn't destroy the Earth, considering that I live here."
"Hmmmm.... I suppose that would be a down fall, from your perspective." Marvin looked at the dog. "There you are, K-9. I told you not to wander off."
The green dog made a series of whines and a few gestures with front paws and his ears, apparently trying to say that it wasn't his fault, it hadn't been his idea, and she did it. Spike found it quite amusing.
A minion that seemed slightly smarter than most lunged towards Marvin, possibly hoping that if he eliminated the leader, the rest of the invaders would stop fighting.
Marvin produced a silly looking ray-gun and fired, sending a soft pulse of yellow light that turned the minion into dust. He hadn't even seemed to look at the minion to aim first. "I'm busy. Now, K-9..."
Spike tried to bring his eyebrows back down, and lifted a hand to force his jaw back closed. That silly looking ray gun had just disintegrated a minion. This Martian probably could destroy the Earth, or at least cause some major damage. Oh bloody hell....
"A ray gun that works, instant minions by adding water... You probably have a real flying saucer too." Spike shook his head. "Why bother with the Earth?"
"To be honest..." Marvin leaned closer, his face still a dark globe broken only by two big eyes. "This is a bit of a vacation from home. Not terribly relaxing, but you've got some lovely oceans."
"Then why blow them up?" Spike asked.
"I probably won't." Marvin shrugged, and scratched at the back of his neck. "Hmmm, shall I blame this on that rabbit again, or the furry menace from that other continent?"
Spike just sat there watching as the small Martian walked away, the green dog accompanying him. Rehydrated Martian minions kept clumsily pummeling at the vampire minions, and in the back, he could hear Dru calling ' here puppy puppy... here puppy.'
He started to laugh, wondering just how long it would take until he could drive again. This town was nuts.
It wasn't until much later that Spike realized there was a small chance that he'd just prevented the world from being blown up, just by returning the green dog to his Martian owner. If that got out...
He sighed, and looked up at the night sky. A gleaming silvery shape, rather like a pair of saucers put together, hovered for a moment, and then darted towards the ocean. Spike raised a hand, and gave a weak wave. "Good luck on that vacation, Marvin."
For a moment, Spike listened to the sounds in the building behind him. The vampire minions were still battling the rehydrated Martians. Dru was still calling for the dog to come back.
"I need a bloody drink."
end Martian Madness.