Buffy splashed water on her face. She tried to see what her hair looked like, but the mirror was completely fogged up by the fighting and intense conversation in the three-foot square bathroom. She stepped out…
…To the sound of light, mocking applause. Her mind said, "?" until she noticed the leers and lascivious grins on the faces of a few passengers sitting near the tail. Passengers who would have heard the scuffle, and who could see the foggy mirror. One guy muttered a grinning reference to the "mile-high club." She scowled at him and headed back to her seat, carefully ignoring Spike as she went by them.
An hour or two passed uneventfully; then Spike startled her by sliding into the empty seat beside her in the aisle. "'Allo, luv," he said. He noticed the stake she had whipped out and was holding at his chest. "Here, put away your toys, little girl. I just want to talk. Truce, remember?" She nodded reluctantly and put away her stake. He continued with a straight face, "Besides, if you kill me now, you'll really disappoint all those guys out there who thought I was screwing you in the lavatory while my girlfriend was napping."
Buffy sputtered with indignation, while Spike smirked and waited for her to become coherent. She narrowed her eyes said, "So… talk. Where are you going with Drusilla?"
He rolled his eyes. "At the moment, I'm going nowhere with Drusilla. Where we're headed, though, is New York, so I can make arrangements for leaving the country like we agreed. So where are you going?"
Buffy shrugged. "Away."
"Yes, didn't we already cover that? I can figure out where the plane is headed, but I'm curious to know why you're on it."
"And you think I'm going to tell you?"
He tsked at her. "You really should work on that testiness of yours, little girl. Does your Watcher-daddy know you're away?" Buffy colored and looked away. Spike laughed out loud. "He doesn't? What about your lovely, clueless mum?"
"No, not her either. Can we change the subject?" she said irritably.
Another stewardess wheeled her cart up the aisle, handing out drinks and snacks. Spike gazed at her longingly. "God, I'm hungry!" he muttered, licking his lips. Buffy's eyebrows went up when she realized he was eyeing the woman, not the snacks she was handing out.
"Oh, no you don't." she said. "I can't kill you on this flight, anymore than you can kill me, but I'm not going to let you kill anyone else, either."
Spike leaned back and swallowed. "I know, I know," he grumbled. "But you seem to forget that you wouldn't let me eat before we left. I haven't eaten in four days."
Buffy made a derisive snort. "Oh, so am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Listen, I just killed my boyfriend, got disowned by my family, and I'm wanted by the cops. If we're having a self-pity contest, I think I've just won the Triple Crown!"
He thought about this and nodded, she was right, but he still couldn't keep his eyes off the stewardess; that is, until he looked at the small angry girl beside him and noticed the pulse throbbing in her neck, the blue vein that pulsed in her wrist. He swallowed thickly... and then had a wonderful idea!
"Listen, slayer," he said in a businesslike manner. "The fact is, I'm awfully hungry. Haven't been eating right all the time I was recovering, have I? I know that there are too few other people on this flight for me to have one of them - they'd be missed too soon. So how about that Red Cross thing we mentioned earlier?" Spike had heard rumors of the powers inherent in slayer-blood, but he'd never tried it before. He's always been more of a kill-and-tell bloke, preferring to get the death over with quickly so he could brag about it.
"WHAT?" hissed Buffy. "Are you out of your undead mind? You actually expect me to donate some blood for you, out of what? Some sense of altruism?" Her face could not possibly have expressed more disgust or disbelief.
Spike smiled. The more he thought of this idea, the better he liked it. "Oh, come on now, little slayer. You'll give up everything you have in order to keep the world from ending for me, but you won't give me even one little pint of blood so I don't go mad and hijack the plane?"
"So is that your plan? You'll threaten to hijack the plane?"
Spike coughed. "Well, actually, I was planning to segue directly into the more personal threats. Blackmail was going to be my ultimate destination, after a lot more banter and threats back and forth. But if you want to skip all that and jump right into it, yeah. It's blackmail. I know where you're going. Your family and friends don't. Neither do the cops. If you don't want them to know, then tell me. Give me a little sign. In fact, give me a little blood. Then I won't tell them, and you and I can go our separate ways and live happily ever after. The choice is yours… just decide by the time we land." He gave her a happy smile.
"What if I kill you both when we land?" She asked.
"Oh, no, that would never do. It would attract attention, reporters, cops, gawkers -" He shook his head in mock sympathy. "You'd be arrested, and probably wouldn't get us both anyway, and there are phones in the airport, you know." He patted her cheek. "Think about it, my girl. You'll see I'm right." And he left, went back to his own seat, chuckling.
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