CHAPTER SEVEN
 
Buffy and Spike managed to make it back to the ancient crypt containing the treasure without incident, although they did have to dodge a small group of demons being controlled by one glassy-eyed soldier who, at the one glance they were able to get, seemed to also have some parts that didn’t belong to him.
 
“What the hell was that?” Buffy breathed, knowing by now that Spike could hear her slightest sounds.  He didn’t answer her until they’d safely left the slow-moving squad behind.
 
“Looked like more of their bloody experimenting – apparently it’s not limited to hapless demons, she’s willing to turn on her own men.”
 
Buffy shuddered. “What kind of a monster....”
 
“The kind that has a soul to dirty up, Slayer.  Us regular old monsters are more straightforward when we create minions.”
 
“I never thought I’d see the day when I’d agree with you about good and evil, but....”
 
“Evil’s where you find it, luv. It’s those wankers that think they own you that want you to think having a soul has something to do with it.”
 
Buffy didn’t reply, just followed Spike through the woods. With his black coat, all she could really see was a slightly darker shadow topped by a shock of platinum hair.  She hesitated when they got to a small hill, losing sight of Spike in the total darkness. When a flickering light showed her where he’d gone, she followed the glow and soon found herself standing in the big, treasure-filled room.
 
“See anything you’d like, Slayer?” he asked, putting the candle in a jewel-encrusted cup where it leaned at an angle and cast a small circle of light on the things around it.  He moved the light to a table in the very back of the big room, explaining, “Don’t want to take a chance on anyone finding this or coming to check out the light.  I think I’ll try to hide the entrance when we leave...”
 
Buffy walked around, idly picking up pieces and putting them down again.
 
“Meant it, pet,” he said, watching her. “If you like something, take it.”
 
Buffy shook her head. “It’s not really my style...” she said, dropping the gaudy, if valuable brooch she’d been holding.
 
“Suit yourself. I’ll just be a minute.” He tested a few cloth bags that seemed too rotten to hold together. He then found a newer canvas tool bag and began filling it with gold and silver coins.  He paused at one heap of jewelry, peering at Buffy from the corner of his eyes, then put something in his pocket. When he’d filled the bag as much as he thought was safe, he walked back to her and sat down beside her on the bench from which she’d been watching him.
 
“What’d you get?” she asked, more from curiosity than because she cared.
 
“Coins, mostly. They’ll be easy to sell and get spendable money for.” He nudged her arm and pulled his hand out of his pocket. “This more your style?” he asked, holding out a bracelet made of delicate gold and silver links.
 
“Oh!” Buffy’s gasp brought a smile to his face. “That’s... that’s beautiful.” She looked up at him. “But it’s not—”
 
“It’s not anything, Slayer. It doesn’t belong to anyone, and probably hasn’t in over a hundred years. Go on, take it if you like it.”
 
She held out her hand, then, before he could drop in into her open palm, she twisted her arm and held out her wrist.  “Can... would you put it on for me?”
 
He blinked, but nodded and cleared his throat. “Sure, luv. Be happy to.”  He bit his lip and growled, having some trouble working the clasp with his fingernails. “Hold still, you bloody bugger,” he muttered as he worked to fasten it around her wrist.  Buffy’s muffled giggle did nothing to improve his mood, but the way she held her arm out to admire it in the candlelight brought another smile to his face.
 
“Looks good on you, Buffy,” he said, then stood up and shook himself. “Best get going if we’re going to get to Vegas before the sun comes up. Grab hold.”
 
Buffy blinked in surprise, then understood what he’d meant when he snuffed out the candle and they were plunged into darkness. His hand touched the wrist she was still holding out, pulling it to his side so she could stay behind him until they got outside where the moonlight made seeing a little easier. Spike stopped when they were once more in the small clearing in front of the barely hidden entrance.
 
“Got to do something about this,” he muttered as she let go of his coat. He handed her the bag of coins, laughing when she almost dropped it.
 
“Heavy!”
 
“Mostly gold, luv. It is heavy.”  Still chuckling, he began to pull boulders in front of the heavily vegetated entrance, grunting as he rolled a particularly large one that almost filled the visible part of the hole. “What do you think, Slayer? Is that gonna do it?”
 
“I could tell better if it was daytime, but I think it’s pretty well-hidden. It’s not like a lot of people are going to stumbling around looking for a crypt out here in the woods, anyway.”  She walked up and handed him the bag of gold. “How come you didn’t do this right after you found it?”
 
“Ah, didn’t care then, did I? All I wanted was that bloody ring.  An’ I came in and left through the tunnels. Didn’t even notice the crypt had an entrance until I came back for some more stuff and saw a sunbeam. Went to investigate and found the opening. Must’ve had a door at one time, but it’s long since rotted away. Anyway, like I said, all I cared at first was seeing if I could go out in the sun to find you.”
 
“Which you could,” she said with wry twist to her mouth. “I can vouch for that.”
 
He gave a loud, exaggerated sigh. “If I apologize, will you stop bitching about that?”
 
“A – it wouldn‘t be a real apology, cause you wouldn’t mean it. And B – I’m not bitching about it. It just kinda sticks in my mind, you know?  Near-death experiences tend to do that.”
 
“Lemme ask you a question, Slayer.  If I hadn’t had the ring, and that stake you put through my heart had actually dusted me, would you be apologizin’ for it?”
 
“Wha—? No! You were—are— you are evil! And anyway, you’d be dust now. You can’t apologize to dust.”
 
“Exactly.”
 
“Huh?”
 
“We were trying to kill each other, Buffy. Just like we’ve always done from time to time. If you’d won, you wouldn’t have felt bad about it. You’d have been pretty chuffed that you dusted William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers.”
 
Once again, their voices were rising as they faced off, nose to nose.
 
“You beat me to a bloody pulp! That’s not slaying, that’s... that’s being deliberately.... mean.”
 
He gaped at her. “Mean?”
 
“You know what I’m saying. You didn’t kill me. You just hurt me a whole lot.”
 
“I didn’t do that because I was enjoying hurting you, you daft bint! I did it because you are such an amazing fighter that you were able to keep fighting long after anybody with any sense would have given up! It isn’t my fault you’re so bloody hard to kill!”
 
They were face to face, glaring at each other from only a few inches apart. Buffy’s chest was heaving as she took deep angry breaths and Spike’s angry expression was fading as he took in her flashing eyes and parted lips. 
 
“If you don’t move, I’m not responsible for what happens,” he said, trying to maintain his angry tone.
 
“You wouldn’t....” she growled back, standing her ground.
 
“Don’t push me, Slayer, just back off.” His face came closer; she could see the amber flashes in his eyes.
 
“Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not the boss of me!”
 
“Don’t want to be your boss, want to....”
 
He brushed his lips across hers once before fastening his mouth on her and swallowing whatever retort she was intending.  Touching nowhere but their mouths, they clung together, learning each other’s taste and the feel of lips and tongues.  And learning more about themselves than either one expected or wanted to know.
 
When Buffy finally realized what she was doing, she wrenched her mouth away, putting a hand to her lips and staring at his equally shocked face.
 
“Did we just...?”
 
He nodded and swallowed hard. “We did. Didn’t mean to, but... heat of the moment and all that.”
 
“So, it was an accident, right?”
 
“Right.”
 
“Maybe... maybe we should try not to fight so much,” Buffy ventured as she began to walk back the way they’d come.
 
“Yeah, good luck with that,” he growled under his breath.
 
“I heard that!”
 
They didn’t speak again until the reached the edge of the woods and Spike gestured in a direction she wasn’t expecting. “Car’s this way,” he explained. She nodded without speaking and trotted to keep up with him as his long strides took him toward the old warehouse where his Desoto was hidden. 
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
“Are we there yet?” Buffy sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She almost thought Spike’s hand had been resting on her head before she woke up, but when she saw how fast they were going, she decided there was no way he wouldn’t have had both hands on the wheel.
 
“What are you, five?” he said, laughing when she huffed angrily.  “Almost, Slayer,” he said, still chuckling. “Bloody good thing, too.” He pointed ahead of them. “Sun’s just getting ready to pop up and try to make me a roman candle.”
 
“Do you want me to drive? You could get in the back and hide on the floor or something.”
 
“You? My car? Drive my car?  I don’t think so, Slayer. I’ve heard about your attempts to get your driving permit.”
 
“Who told you?  And they were lies!”
 
“Your mum is who told me. You calling her a liar?”
 
“Oh, that’s right. Hide behind my mother’s skirts,” she grumbled, slapping him on one muscular thigh when he kept chuckling. She snatched her hand back quickly, telling herself she hadn’t really liked how his leg felt under her hand.
 
“Here we are, Slayer.”  While Buffy gawked at the brightly lit strip, Spike drove directly to a hotel with an underground garage and turned in. He waved off the valet and rolled down his window, shouting that he would park it himself.  Finding a level that suited him, he pulled into a slot and turned off the engine. 
 
“Now what?”
 
“Now we go up through the garage into the hotel and get a room.  Then, I’m going to look up a friend to convert some of these coins for us so we can go shopping.”
 
“You can’t go out. The sun’s coming up!”
 
He laughed again. “I don’t have to go out, luv.  Everything we might want is going to be in the hotel here. And it stays open 24/7.  We never have to leave the casino area.” He paused and looked at her. “’less you want to, of course. I forgot you don’t want to gamble. We’ll find out where the pool is and you can spend the day getting freckles.”
 
The man at the front desk didn’t blink at their rumpled clothing and lack of luggage, he just nodded and put the heavy bag of gold in the safe for them before handing over the key to a suite.
 
“Only one room, Spike?” Buffy hissed to him as they walked to the elevators. “In your dreams!”
 
“Relax, Slayer. It’s a bloody suite. Got plenty of room for both of us... and separate king-size beds. Nothing to get your knickers in a twist about.”
 
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
 
While Buffy was wandering around the admittedly large set of rooms, Spike left with his pockets full of gold coins.  She had just determined which bed she wanted and settled down for a quick nap when he burst back into the room, grinning from ear to ear.
 
“Jackpot, Slayer!”
 
“You’ve been gambling already?” She peered up at him, her hair hanging over one eye and her expression disapproving.
 
“What? No. Not yet. I’ll get to the tables later. No, here’s what’s exciting....” He came over to her bed and began to empty his pockets of money.  Buffy stared at the bills he was throwing at her, shaking her head to clear the sleep from her eyes.  She rubbed them, looked again, then picked up one of the bills he was still throwing on the bed.
 
“Is this a hundred dollar bill?”
 
“That it is, Slayer. And we’ve got a bundle of ‘em. Turns out those coins are worth more than I thought.  If I had the time to search for a good, legitimate place to sell them, we’d probably have twice this much.”
 
“Why do you keep saying ‘we’?” she asked, gathering up a small group of bills even as she did so.  “It’s your money, isn’t it? You found that treasure.”
 
He seemed momentarily deflated, then rallied. “It’s ‘ours’ because I say it’s ours. You were with me when I picked up the coins, weren’t you?” He looked at her hopefully.  “I was hopin’ you’d help me spend it.”
 
Buffy cocked her head at him.  “You were, huh?  I’m not sure I can drink or gamble away this much money.  Kinda not my thing, you know?”
 
“No problem, pet. I can drink and gamble enough for the both of us.  But I thought you might want to pick yourself up some frillies to wear while we’re here – or were you planning to walk around Las Vegas in jeans and a sweatshirt?”
 
Buffy blushed, looking down at the clothes she’d had on all day and most of the night. 
 
“Not that you don’t look fetching,” he hastened to add when she dropped her head and shrugged. “But I’ll bet if you took a few of those bills you’re tryin’ not to grip so tightly and went down to the shops, you’d find plenty of ways to spend it.  Think of it as spending my money, if that makes you happier.”
 
When Buffy still look doubtful, he added, “I think I noticed at least one or two shoe stores...”
 
She laughed and shook her head. “There is no way my mortal enemy should know that much about me.”
 
“Hey! Got to know my enemies weaknesses, don’t I? Who knows? If I hadn’t found the Gem, I might have just smothered you in footwear someday.”
 
Smiling in spite of herself, she stood up and stretched, blushing when Spike stared at her with unconcealed admiration. Pretending she hadn’t noticed the expression on his face, she began to put her boots on.  “So, where are these ‘shops’?” she asked. “And will they be open now? It’s almost 6 a.m.”
 
“Told you, luv. This town never shuts down. Everything is open 24/7.  Come on, I’ll show you where things are and then I’m going to go try my luck at the tables.”
 
Handing her one of the room keys, he waited for her to put it in a back pocket and stuff a handful of bills in her front pockets.  He opened the door for her, ignoring her shocked glance, and whistled as they walked to the elevator. 
 
“You’re pretty cheerful for somebody who’s supposed to be hiding from people who want to dissect him while he’s alive – so to speak.” She smiled at him. “No offense, dead guy.”
 
“None taken, slayer of dead guys.” He put one arm around her. “Who’s going to go looking for us in a place like this? I think we’re safe enough here.”
 
Buffy elbowed him in ribs. “You know you probably just totally jinxed us, right?  In Buffy’s world, ‘we’re safe now’ is a signal for the apocalypse to begin.”
 
“I’ll remember that,” he said, moving his arm and gesturing for her to leave the elevator ahead of him.  He led her down one of several carpeted corridors on the first floor, pointing out things she might want to know about on the way. “That’s the way to the swimming pool, that’s the gym, that’s the spa – in case you want to be pampered for awhile – that’s where we–you–can get breakfast later, and there are the shops.” He pointed down the hall where a number of small neon signs indicated a cluster of stores.  “It’s like a mini-mall.”
 
“Wow....” Buffy stared, picking out the stores with familiar names and deciding where to begin.  She glanced up at Spike. “What if I run out of money?”
 
He rolled his eyes, but answered with a smile. “Just charge it to the room. I left a couple of the coins with the main desk. They know we’re good for it.”  He gave her a little nudge. “Go on, Slayer. Buy something pretty to wear into the casino tonight – and something skimpy for the pool.”
 
“”K. Where are you going to be?”
 
Spike pointed back the way they’d come. “I’ll be in the casino. Come and find me if you get bored and I’ll teach you how to bluff at poker.”
 
“I know how to play poker! Sort of...”
 
“Uh huh. Miss Goody-two shoes? Doubt it.  Later, Slayer.”
 
He was already walking away when he finished speaking. There were several people around, so she had no choice but to glare after him rather than chase him down and punch him.  Instead, she walked toward the first shoe store, muttering to herself about spending every penny he had.