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Humanity	By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 4278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Spike whistled a jaunty tune as he strode through the sewers, swinging the briefcase by his side. Let the Scoobies have their group hugs if that’s what made them feel better. It was the perfect opportunity for him to sneak away. He’d wanted to raid Onegin’s bedroom and nick some of the priceless little tidbits his eye had landed on, but he didn’t want to run into any of Buffy’s little friends.
Anyway, he had his perfect prize right in his hands. He came upon a few vampires in the tunnels, stragglers who were either just making it in from the outside or others who’d managed to get past Buffy and company. He staked them almost cheerfully and climbed out of the tunnel. Narrowing his eyes, he darted quickly from one shady spot on the street to another. He could always come back for his motorcycle later.
He rubbed his hands together and peered at the suitcase lying on the table in his crypt. He frowned when he realized he didn’t have the combination for it. Dismissing it as unimportant, he picked up a heavy brick from some of the crypt’s broken stonework and began hammering at the hinges. Several minutes and one severely dented case later, he finally managed to open it.
He stared greedily at the green bills nestled inside and carefully picked up one bundle. He riffled through the sheaf of paper and frowned. There was something…odd about it. Looking through them more slowly, his eyes widened as he stared at the lower pieces of paper. He snatched up the other bundles and pawed through them wildly. They were all the same.
Spike roared in rage and threw the suitcase hard enough against the nearest crypt wall to send chips flying out of the stone.
__________
Xander woke up at the alarm. He shut it off, winced and shuffled slowly towards the shower. Two mornings after the fight at the castle and he was still feeling the aches and pains from the battle. He heard the doorbell ring and sighed. It never failed. Just as you were about to enjoy a nice hot shower…
“Xander, honey, could you get the doorbell?”
“Why don’t you get it? You’re closer.”
“I’m making breakfast. I don’t want the waffles to burn.”
He grumbled and wrapped a robe around himself. He opened the door and squinted at the postman. “You Alexander Harris?”
“Yep, that’s me.”
“Sign here, please.” Xander scribbled his name on the slip and closed the door. He juggled the package carefully. It was thick and carefully padded and had no return address. Peeling back the heavy tape, he peered inside and gawped at the contents.
“Xander, who was it?” Anya wandered out when there was no answer. Xander looked up at her wildly and yanked out what was in the package. “Oh my god!!!”
Two thick bundles were being waved in his hands. “It’s….it’s more money than I’ve ever seen in my life! Holy early retirement, Batman!”
She rushed over and snatched it from him. “Xander, there must be over $20,000 here! Who sent it?”
“Wait, Anya, there’s a note.” He plucked out a small piece of paper that read simply, ‘To my first friend’.
__________
Buffy was opening a similar package at her house. When Dawn saw the money, she squealed in excitement. She kept pressing the money to her nose as if she couldn’t believe it was real. “Buffy, who’s it from?”
The note read, ‘To the First Slayer’.
__________
Willow’s note showed, ‘To my first girl kiss’. Tara’s read, ‘To my first cat fight’.
__________
Spike was sulking in his crypt. Yeah, it was quite a bit of cash, once he’d gotten over his temper tantrum and counted it. It was almost $10,000—more money that he’d had in a long while. But he was still furious. The bint had cheated him! He’d gone along with their idiotic lifesaving plan in good faith and she’d robbed him of his rightful pay.
He could understand her feelings, though. She’d disliked him from the beginning and including him in the scheme had been Willow’s idea not hers. She’d probably planned to take the money from the demon all along after Buffy killed it. His inclusion in the business had nearly wrecked her project but she’d managed to pull it off anyway. He felt an almost grudging admiration for her cunning. She’d been able to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes good and proper, including his own.
Musing over this turn of events, he was lying around sucking on a beer when the knock on his crypt door came. He got up warily. It was close to sundown, though there was still enough daylight to prove dangerous. Standing out of its path, he opened his crypt door to find Xander holding a package for him.
“Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”
“And a top of the evening to you, too, Fangless! I got this little package in the mail today. It’s addressed to you. Guess the U.S. postal service doesn’t deliver to rat-infested crypts.”
“There were probably more rats in that dank basement of yours than there ever were in this place, whelp.”
Xander pretended to peer into the darkened depths. “Oh, you mean you ate them all? Anyway, here’s your package, John Boy.” He thrust the small bundle unceremoniously into Spike’s hands and bounced away, whistling, back to his car.
Spike ripped open the package and pulled out a small finely crafted wooden box. There was an envelope with it that was labeled, ‘To William the Bloody’. He opened it. The note inside confirmed what he already knew.
Spike: You’ve probably discovered by now that not all of the paper in the case was money. Only the top layer of $100 bills are real. The rest of the bundles are sheaves of the Blue Pages that I painstakingly cut out with an Exacto knife. I made the switch between the two cases and you were none the wiser. As you pointed out to me, vampires don’t need to pay rent, gas, heating or water bills and you obviously don’t care for clothes all that much so I figured that, being human, I’d need the money far more than you.
There’s still plenty of cash there for you to keep yourself in beer, fags (take that however you wish), nail polish and that stinky hair dye of yours for a long while.
I’m taking the rest of the money and heading out for sunny climes. By the way, I don’t live out of New York anymore and I never had any parents in Vermont. I just said that to throw you and the Slayer’s friends off the trail. I have plenty of money, countless hours of sunlight ahead of me and formidable computer skills at my command. That’s more than enough to help me disappear permanently from your radar.
You won’t find me; don’t even try. Don’t spend any time in pointless revenge and don’t bother going to Buffy or her friends for consolation. You’ll find them remarkably unsympathetic. Ciao, my little bow-wow! Have a nice unlife.
P.S. Don’t feel too gloomy. I’ve left you a consolation prize. It might improve your chances with Buffy.
Consolation prize? He wrinkled his brows and turned the box over and over in his hands. Deciding it was probably harmless, he carefully tore off the tape holding it shut and then halted, stunned, at what was nestled in the box’s soft velvet interior.
It was a small vial containing blood from the Mohra demon.

TBC
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Humanity