taxonomites | [location: Dodgy Jammer] [open] Baby's at the punch bowl with a glass for you to fill

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[location: Dodgy Jammer] [open] Baby's at the punch bowl with a glass for you to fill

The bar top was polished to a high shine, and Buffy carefully folded the damp towel she'd been using to wipe it down into a neat square.

Not nervous, nope.

Another spot gets a quick wipedown, and Buffy quickly puts the towel away before she manages to scrub a hole in the finish. She didn't really know when people tended to come in, but if she was by herself for awhile, there was always dusting, and mopping, and re-arranging, and and and...

OK, maybe a little nervous.

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Spike turns, the coat flaring out behind him as he does so.

Eyes wide, he stares at her for a moment, before managing the only word he can, "Buffy?"

There's a instinctive flinch, but she recovers quickly.

"In... in the flesh, I'm afraid. Kinda weird, right? In all the bars, in all the weird alien created hamster runs, you happen to walk into mine. Or the bar that I work at. Something something coincidence something."

A little puzzled,she points at his feet.

"And where are your shoes?"

"I..."

Mark this one down folks, Spike is actually at a loss for words. It may never ever happen again. And he recovers quickly, of course.

"It would have to happen like this, wouldn't it? That we'd both get stuck here would be only too much fun for anyone watching our adventures." Especially with Illyria and Dru here - this will be just great, of course.

"Oh, well, I showed up here without them. Without much of anythin' really, so I've been improvising."

If Buffy had a calendar at hand right at that moment, she might have taken the time to mark this amazing thing down.

But as it is, she's not really sure what to do with her hands, fiddling with the towel and making sure her hair doesn't look ridiculous and finally settling on leaning on the bar, head propped on her hands.

"Yeah, they're hilarious, these guys. Wacky hijinks likely to ensue is probably what they were thinking."

Speaking of...

"Did... did you know that Dru is here too?" That could potentially change any hijinks from 'wacky' to 'horrible'.

"I do, though I haven't actually seen her in person yet." Spike runs a hand through his hair, attempting to be casual about it. "Her and Illyria both, which is someone's idea of a seriously twisty joke if I've ever heard one."

In fact, with Buffy here as well, it seems like some sort of a joke on him that he doesn't quite understand. "I take it you two have gotten re-acquainted?"

"You might say that, yeah. Nothing violent, but she did plant some flowers for me. At my house. Seems to be about at Dru's usual level of crazy."

She straightens, and waves a hand at any number of empty seats at the bar.

"Can I get you anything, while I'm here? I, I don't know what they have in the way of more, um, fang-friendly beverages."

"Good to know that some things are consistent, at least. And your house? The one that went away with the rest of the town?"

Spike makes his way toward the bar and a seat at said bar, "I could use something to drink. A beer would be good, if you have anything worth drinking."

"Mom's house."

Her jaw tightens slightly, as she carefully fills a pint glass with what seems to be a good beer. Not that Buffy is completely sure, as all of the brands on the taps are a mystery to her.

"Showed up whole and unexploded at the same time I did, I guess." The glass gets set down in front of him.

Spike looks at the glass, picks it up ans sniffs it.

"I imagine that was disconcerting, unpleasant in general. Much like this place, from what I can tell."

"Pretty much. Though the death flowers that Dru planted in the back yard are growing rather nicely."

She shrugs, not really wanting to admit just how much it had destroyed her to see the house.

"Death flowers?"

He can guess what it did to her to see the house but he's not entirely sure what to say or how to say it. He's not, really, sure where things stand, so he's playing it reserved.

Well, reserved for Spike at least. A long drink from the glass later, he follows up with, "Been here long?"

"Few months, I think. It's all kinda blending together."

She's happy to move to another subject.

"How... how was Vegas? Still intact?"

".....Vegas?"

Spike tilts his head to the side, "I haven't been to Vegas in a long time, luv."

"Oh."

Not her Spike, then. It's hard to not feel a little disappointed at that, and she tries not to show it, looking down at the bar rather than trying to meet his gaze.

"Um, so where were you when... you know, you got taken here?"

It makes him a little sad too but he's determined not to show it - though he has no idea where he stood with Buffy at home. he hadn't talked to her in awhile, so this could be a positive, right?

"Brazil. I needed to get as far away from Angel as I could for a little bit. Had just finished taking down a demon with a name I still can't pronounce and was cleaning off all the gunk when they brought me here."

It's slowly dawning on her that this is actually really NOT the Spike that she's dealt with. He'd never mentioned going to Brazil, or needing to get away from Angel; then again, part of her reason for going to Vegas could be blamed on the same thing.

Same as what she experienced with Willow then -- different timelines, which still makes her head hurt a little.

"Brazil sounds exciting, even with gunk-filled demons."

"The was a great fight. Wish I could have seen more of the place before I ended up here."

Spike pauses and then tilts his head to the side, "So, Vegas, then? Not sure you seem like a Vegas girl, really."

"What, I don't look like someone who would come out in strategically placed sparkly bits?"

Buffy'd seen her share of showgirls, that was for sure.

"Never would I say that, pet. I think you'd be able to pull that off without a problem - crimson and gold, maybe?"

Spike is a bit of a poet, he's likely thinking of flames and blood, though.

She ducks her head again, but this time with a smile and hint of blushing.

"ANYways, I moved there to get a little closer to Reno, and its friendly Hellmouth. And everyone else was there already."

"Everyone else, eh?"

Spike leans in toward her, taking another sip from his beer before he puts it down. "And Vegas was closer to where you wanted to be?"

"Y-yes."

That cigarette smell will never come out of his jacket, not completely.

"And to who I wanted to be with."

Probably not, among a few other smells but most of them are beneath the smoke smells. He'd actually love to have a cigarette right now, though he doesn't seem to have any on him.

"Is that so?"

"I couldn't be the Slayer without my Scoobies, right?" No mention of who all those scoobies might be, of course.

"Actually, you could be. It has been done before. I don't recommend it, obviously."

Spike smiles at her, reminding her that he is one of those people and yet at the same time is an amazingly dangeroud predator. You know, like he does - as if the jacket wasn't enough of a reminder.

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