When night fell, he woke her and loaded her back into the car and sped up to LA. City of Angels, he thought with an amused snort. Drusilla woke when they reached the airport, just as she'd promised. He left her safely glaring at a small boy who was crying loudly that he was lost, and went and booked a flight to New York. He did plan to leave the country, maybe even actually reach Prague someday, but he still had some loose ends to tie up in the Big Apple.
Flight booked, he went and got Dru, who was looking suspiciously rosy and well fed. The small boy was nowhere to be found. He sighed. He could have done with a bite, himself. He hadn't had anything to eat in a few weeks, only what Dru could talk Angel into bringing back for him. He hadn't gone out, so as not to arouse suspicious - and the accursed slayer had ruined his only chance for a meal when she didn't let him kill that damned cop. If he'd been human, he'd be fainting right now. As it was, he didn't know if he'd be able to survive the six-hour flight without losing control.
The flight left at 9pm, and he and Drusilla were on it. She went to sleep again, slumped next to the window. He had the aisle seat, but his own rest - not to mention digestive system - were interrupted by people going up and down the aisle. He had just about decided to grab and feed on the next person to walk by and wake him up, he was so irritated and hungry, when he heard a gasp and actually looked up at the next person.
Buffy.
Buffy stood there in jeans, tank top, and a black watch cap on her head, her green eyes wide.
They stared at each other in shock until a stewardess came up behind Buffy said, "Uh, excuse me, Miss? Could I get by, please?"
Buffy grabbed Spike's arm in a rock-hard grip. "Come. With me. Now." She ground out.
Spike glanced at Dru, making sure she was still in her self-induced coma, and let himself be dragged to the tiny bathroom in the rear of the plane. She pushed him in and followed, locking the door. There was no room to fight in there, and they both knew it. Instead, Buffy folded her arms threateningly and said one word: "WELL?"
Spike's lip curved a little. "If you've got me in here for a quickie, luv, I hate to disappoint you but I'm just not in shape for it. All that 'battling the forces of evil' and all…"
Outrage suffused Buffy's face with red. Spike watched interestedly as the blood rushed to her cheeks. He licked his lips. "Of course you could change that, if you're feeling at all Red Crossy."
She lost her temper and slugged him in the mouth. It didn't hurt much; she hadn't had much room for a wind-up. He took it, but it did weaken him when it shouldn't have. He aimed a punch to her gut, and when she doubled over, she whammed him in the stomach with her head. He had intended to give her a knee to the nose when she doubled over, but it backfired and he whacked his knee on the corner of the tiny sink. He groaned. She tried to knee him in the groin but ended up whacking her knee just as he had. "Ouch!" she said. She looked at him, feeling silly, and with a sneaking suspicion that he felt the same way.
"There's really no room in here for fighting, is there?" She said. Spike shook his head reluctantly, rubbing his stomach where her head had impacted. "What are you two doing here, anyway? Didn't I tell you to leave?"
"I did leave," he replied. "I just didn't expect you to leave as well. What's going on, Slayer? You're not exactly in Kansas anymore."
"Actually, I think we are." Buffy said, suddenly tired. "Over it, anyway. I left home."
"I can see that. Why?" he was curious in spite of himself. "I thought once you'd got rid of me and Dru and taken care of Angel, that you'd be living the high life." Suddenly suspicious: "You did take care of Angel, didn't you?"
"Angel's blood opened the door to hell. Only Angel's blood could close it again." Her voice got sharper. "Please note the general lack of hellishness around here, and draw your own conclusions!"
"My, my. Touchy!" he commented. "Rough night?"
She glared at him. "You could say that. If you were incredibly given to understatement!" she said.
"Well, for what it's worth, thanks for saving the world and all. If I were a nicer guy, I'd treat you to a Happy Meal, just to even the score." He noted that the expression on her face boded ill for him, whether there was room to fight or not. Hastily, he eased past her and opened the door. "And if we're all finished here…" he said, and left.
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