Authors: Dea Brynhild Ensomhet Spikess
Pairing: Spander
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Buffy or Angel cast/crew/characters/plotlines/etc.
Author's Notes: This was written for "MoodRings - 132 Celebrations of Spander", which is located on my website, under "Looks Like Lobster", under "Big Maypole Fish Thing", under "Series".
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God, the club was so dead tonight. Xander sipped the last of his coke and glanced around the room. He'd been half-hoping to score tonight, but even though his standards were relatively low, the few people in the club didn't come anywhere near to what he'd settle for. He paid his tab and left, pulling on a jacket against the chilly winter air. He was about three steps away from the club when he spotted a man walking towards him, passing out something-or-other to the pedestrians clubbing and Christmas shopping. As they passed, the guy pressed something into his hand with a smile. "Merry Christmas."
Xander did a quick head to ass check-out of the guy - curly brown hair, bright blue eyes, compact but lean. He usually had a tendency to pick blondes, but the bod looked good, and he could forget about hair color in a pinch. Before he had a chance to do more than smile, the guy had moved on down the street, still passing out something. It figured, Xander thought. You couldn't walk around downtown without picking up a few fliers for some club opening or mall sale. There was a trash can up ahead and he changed course for it, intending to throw away the flyer without even glancing at it. Halfway there he reconsidered. Even if it was just another advert for a club, maybe it wouldn't be as dead as his current haunts. He glanced down at the small piece of paper in his hand, and stopped walking. It wasn't a club advert. It wasn't even a mall sale. It was a hundred dollar bill.
Xander blinked, wondering if someone had slipped something into his coke when he wasn't looking. No way, no fucking way some guy had been passing out hundred dollar bills on the street. He turned it over in his hands, checking for a name or phone number scribbled on it, some clue as to why the owner didn't want it anymore. There was a small coffee shop still open nearby, and he strolled in and up to the counter.
"Excuse me, do you have-" The salesgirl handed him a counterfeit detector pen.
"You're the third one in here tonight." she said, as he took the pen. He made a mark on the bill and it stayed yellow. The bill was real. "Wish I'd been outside when he walked past."
"Yeah." Xander answered absently. What the fuck? Who the heck was that guy? He hurried out the door and back towards the club but he didn't see the guy anywhere.
For the rest of the week he spent his evenings circulating the clubs, looking for the stranger in vain. One morning he was on his way to campus when he caught a glimpse of curly brown hair disappear inside a small diner, and he swerved into the parking lot. Trying not to get his hopes up, he hurried inside the diner and scanned the heads of the patrons. There, in the back was a mop of light brown-hair spilling over a familiar face, and Xander headed towards it. Azure eyes widened as he slid into the booth opposite of the stranger.
"Who are you?" Xander asked.
The stranger lowered his fork back into the scrambled eggs, and pulled out his wallet. "I'm... Spike Tackett." He read off his driver's licence, as if he didn't know his own name, and put his wallet away. "And you are?"
"Xander Harris." Xander replied. "Why were you passing out money on the street?"
Spike smirked shyly. "Didn't want it." He said and took a bite of egg. "Long story."
Xander decided to blow off school today. "I've got time."
The End.
A/N: This was just written as a one-shot, but I might write a sequel someday.
