Becoming What, Exactly?: Part 7
by Theory Queen
"Hey, what's going on here?" asked the janitor, flicking the light on.

Buffy jumped, acting startled. Spike put his arm around her and told him, "What's it look like? She just got home and I wanted to give her a proper welcome, didn't I?"

The janitor took in Buffy's untidy hair which had been mussed by the swift removal of the watch cap. He also saw the scratches on her neck, the fatigue in her eyes and the bags under them. "Whoa, major jet lag, it looks like. You better get her home and welcome her there, buddy. After about a week of sleep."

"Good idea," Spike said smoothly. "Come along, luv." He swept her out of the closet and down the corridor. Out of the man's earshot, he asked, "So, what's with the smoochies, pet? You know I don't have a soul to lose."

Buffy winced, then shrugged philosophically. "It worked, didn't it? Besides," she continued with a bleak attempt at humor, "I just sent my boyfriend to hell this morning. Why not kiss a demon tonight? Just to make my day complete."

They wandered down the corridor, following exit signs, until they reached the outside. Then Spike stopped her. "Look, Slayer. We can't go on like this. Yes, dinner was terrific, the entertainment was great, thanks for a lovely evening, but isn't it time to go our separate ways now?"

"Oh, getting hungry again?" she challenged.

He grinned. "Baby, that I'm not! Let me tell you, if I had a regular supply of slayer blood, I might never have to kill again! That stuff works wonders!"

She stared with dawning comprehension. "Is that what made you so strong? I mean, I know it's manly to throw around slayers, but you were as surprised as I was. Weren't you?"

He shrugged. "It was quite a high," he admitted.

"Oh, great," Buffy muttered. "On top of everything else, I've come to New York with a lifetime supply of vampire crack. Travelling with a vampire, no less. Can things get any worse?"

"Never, never ask that," Spike said, suddenly grabbing her hand and fleeing from the approaching cops. They ran and ran, not keeping track of street names or anything, until they no longer heard the footsteps behind them. Spike suddenly realized something. "Oh, sod!" he cursed with rising panic and frustration. "I forgot the time difference!"

"What..? Oh!" Buffy recognized where his fear came from. "Dawn is three hours earlier here, isn't it?"

"I've got to get below!" he yelled, taking off. She ran after him, suddenly not wanting to lose touch with the one familiar thing in this strange town, even if it was a demon. She came upon him wrestling with a manhole cover, not quite managing to lift it.

"No, wait. I have an idea," she said. "Come with me." She took off again at a fast walk.

Spike cursed his stupidity in choosing to follow her instead of still trying to get into the sewers. "Fine, luv, but no walks down sunny garden paths, right? I'm a bit pale, and I just know I'd get sunburned."

Buffy whistled for a cab, and they both got in. "96 Morton Street!" she ordered.

Spike whistled and then started to smile. "I'd forgotten you could do that!"

The cab deposited them on a street full of large brick buildings, finally darting towards one with stone lions flanking the steps.

"Quick! In here! Help me!" she said, trying to force open a small side door. With their combined strength, the lock groaningly gave way, and they sneaked in and closed the door behind them.

"Oh, God, where are we? It smells like that blasted library of yours," Spike complained.

"It is. I mean, the New York City Library," she replied. "No one will find us here, trust me. Giles told me, it's full of people mostly just like him. No one's going to lift his nose out of a book long enough to notice a couple of… well, of whatever we are." She finished lamely. "And by the time it's closed, it will be dark."

"Fine, well, I'll tell you, I don't fancy the idea of both of us being in this city at the same time, with you hunting me down in the daylight." Spike stated uncomfortably as they headed toward the basement.

"Well, I think you should know I'm not exactly keen on the thought of you coming after me in the middle of the night, either," she retorted. "In fact, given the choice, I'd rather have you where I can keep an eye on you!"

"Likewise, luv," he practically spat the word out. "Just don't get in my way when I feed!"

"You're not killing anybody as long as I'm around!" she yelled back at him.

"Well, I won't have to when you're around, will I?" his rejoinder sped out his mouth without stopping at his brain.

"What did you just say?" Buffy asked, suddenly very quiet.

"What did I just say?" he asked himself, as astonished as she.

"Um, Spike?" she asked in a tremulous voice. "How much slayer blood would constitute a 'regular supply?'"


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