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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"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.

"I think I'd be just fine, actually."

She smiles back, any trace of friendliness quickly erased. Reminding him that she was her own type of predator.

That doesn't seem to erase the smile on his face at all. If anything, it seems to make him happy in a strange way. "No doubt, luv, you're just not the same without your friends and I wouldn't want you to change that much."

Hundred and forty-seven days of death probably did enough of that.

That's just like him, to be disarming and charming and frustrating, all at the same time.

Time to change the subject.

"Who did you have to rob to get those clothes? They're not your... usual."

"Well, seeing as I showed up here with two fluffy white towels, I need to do something." Spike makes a bit of a face before shrugging it off. "They don't go with the jacket."

"Two... fluffy white towels? Were you showering?"

Buffy supposes that that's likely better than showing up naked like the LAST guy.

"I'd just finished, actually. This place... I still don't know how anything works here."

He reaches into a pocket and pullos out a rubber duckey and puts it on the bar, "See?"

She can't help but smile at this -- the incongruity of the yellow squeaky toy and the platinum haired vampire.

Buffy reaches out and gently squeezes the ducky's sides, causing a tiny wheeze and accompanying squeak.

"It seems to grab us at our most potentially embarrassing moment."

"That's common, then? Did it grab you in the middle of something important?"

For now, Mr. Quackers can stay on the bar. It brought a smile to Buffy's face, so that's even more reason for it to stay there.

"I don't know about important..."

Buffy hems and haws, rolling a glass between her hands.

"Just working."

"Working or 'working'?"

Spike arches brows at her, mostly wondering if she'd been at a fast food joint or slaying.

"Not THAT sort of working. The paying sort of working. I'd just gone to take a break, and just like that, showed up here."

The glass get filled with water and Buffy sips.

"So you had a paying sort of gig in Vegas too? I guess everyone has to pay the bills after all. Well, except here, right? Not really any bills to keep the lights on." Spike looks around the bar and shakes his head.

"This will take a bit of getting used to. S'good to have a familiar face here." And that's probably as close as he'll get to saying he missed her. At least here.

"I... was a waitress. At a casino. It helped pay the bills, and I got to keep track of vamps because those places, they're like chock full of people just waiting to get eaten. Easy pickings."

Buffy tilts her head at him, trying to judge if he actually did mean that like maybe she thought he did.

"There's always Dru, you know." Offering him the chance, the opening, if he wanted to take it.

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