Clem’s Tale
Not for the squeamish. Oooh, you're going to hate me now.
“Pssst. Spike. Come here, please?”
The vampire looked down at the wrinkled arm, the hand pulling him into Willow’s empty bedroom. “Clem?”
“Shh. Just come.” With a tug, Spike was inside. The demon looked sheepishly down at the carpet. “I screwed up.”
“Clem. What’s this about?” They had been trapped for hours in Buffy’s house, and the demon had been nothing but a perfect guest, as far as Spike could see.
“It’s just...Well, that girl, Tara? She was asking Willow, the one who lives here, about her cat. Miss Kitty, she called it.”
“Right,” Spike remembered. “Then Red went looking for her, and she couldn’t find her. Figured she was hiding in the basement from all the people, or something.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Aw, gee, Spike. I didn’t know. I really didn’t. Until we were talking downstairs, and the kitten poker thing came up. I mean, I know the Slayer got grossed out about the kitten thing at the poker game, but I thought maybe she was just weird. Then they were all taking like cats were pets or something.” The demon looked up at his friend, tears in his eyes.
Spike put his hand on a wrinkled shoulder. “Clem. What did you do?”
“I...I was really hungry. We’d been here a long time, and I know it wasn’t a kitten, but it was a small cat, and…” He let out a sob. “I didn’t know.”
“You’re telling me you ate Miss Kitty Fantastico.” When Clem nodded in affirmation, Spike sighed. “Bloody hell.”
“Should I tell them?”
Spike stared at him. “You want to tell a pair of witches that you ate their cat. Right. Enjoy your future as a wrinkly toad.” He looked around the room. “Any evidence?”
Clem bent over and pulled a long, furry object from under the bed. “I don’t like the tails.”
Spike took the remnant of the cat by the tips of his fingers and looked at it. “Well, we can’t bury it outside. Cause we can’t get outside.” He stuffed it into his duster pocket. “Assuming we will get outside, someday.” They stepped out of the room. “Mate, the next time I take you out with me?”
Clem’s lower lip quivered. “Yes?”
“Eat what you’re offered.”