Et Lux In Tenebris Lucet (And the Light Shineth in the Darkness) by Enigmaticblue

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 :: 20 :: 21 :: 22 ::

Chapter 4: Poker Face

Author's Notes: Just a short one. Ever wonder what Spike does when he's not hanging around Buffy? Well, here's an idea...

Spike woke to a very strange sound, like the rushing of water. He frowned uncertainly, and then sat up. Both the alarm clock and his inner demon told him it was mid-afternoon, and much too early for a respectable vampire to be waking up. Of course, that wasn't what he was anymore. He scrubbed a hand over his face and then reached down to pull the braces on. Looked like it was time to get up, if only to figure out why he was hearing a bloody waterfall.

Swinging himself out of the room and down the stairs, he ran straight into the Slayer. "What's up, luv?" he asked. "Sounds like a soddin' river."

The weariness in her eyes scared him. "The pipes in the basement are completely shot," she replied quietly. "I was just barely managing to keep things going around here, Spike. How am I going to pay for this?"

He wanted to hold her. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms and tell her that he would fix everything. And he couldn't. Because it was physically impossible, because she wouldn't allow it, because it wasn't true. "You'll find a way, Slayer. You've saved the world how many times? How hard is it to fix a bunch of pipes?"

It might not be hard, but it certainly was expensive. He watched as Xander tried to assure the Slayer that his friend Tito had cut her a deal. Problem was, the deal still had way too many zeros. Again, he wanted to tell her that he could get the money for her, not to worry, but she was off in a hurry, making plans. She would go to the bank for a loan, she would find a way to patch things together. And all Spike wanted to do was to fix it all.

But he waited. Apparently, it was something he was getting good at. And he watched as she came home physically and emotionally bruised from her meeting at the bank and the subsequent fight with a demon. The problem was getting money. He didn't really have any, she certainly didn't have any, and no one she knew was giving her any, if they even knew about her money troubles. Her work-study job was providing enough to keep Ramen noodles in the cupboards and little else, and now the pipes were shot. What she needed was enough to fix her basement and then a little extra to hold her over for a while.

Spike was upstairs, catching a nap since his sleep had been cut short by the basement waterfall when a sudden prickling feeling woke him up. Something was wrong. For the moment, he was grateful he had adapted, because the braces were on and he was on the stairs in a couple minutes. As he came down, he could see that the door had been damaged, and a stuggle caught his eye. Buffy was struggling valiantly with a M'Fashnik demon, and Dawn was sprawled across the floor, looking terrified. He watched as the Slayer herded the thing back into the kitchen and finished coming down the stairs, glancing over at Dawn to make sure she was okay. Swinging himself into the kitchen, he could see Buffy struggling with the thing, and he was powerless to do anything about it.

Thinking quickly, he pulled a butcher knife out of one of the drawers and waited for his chance. "Buffy!" he called. "Turn him 'round." She snarled at him, but wrestled the demon so that his back faced Spike, and the vampire let go with the knife, sinking it into his back.

"Dawn! The door to the basement," Buffy gasped at her sister, who pulled it open. The knife had weakened him, but the demon wasn't dead yet, and Buffy planned on finishing the M'Fashnik off in the one room of the house that was already completely ruined. She tossed him through the open door and followed close behind, Spike able to do little but watch the entire scene from the safety of the stairs.

She soon dispatched the thing, but not before it had broken one of the new copper pipes the plumber had just installed that day. In a burst of anger and frustration, Buffy beat the thing with the pipe it had broken off, and watched as his lifeless body floated in the calf-deep water. Spike's rough voice came from above her. "I'll call Harris. He should be able to fix the doors and help with the body."

Buffy sighed. Just another night at the Summers' residence.

~~~~~

While Buffy went about her days as a student and nights as a Slayer, Spike shut himself up in his room and thought. He did have a little money, but it wasn't enough to truly help. He knew that even if she took it, it wouldn't be enough to do her any good. She needed real, honest-to-goodness cash, and that was a bit harder to come by.

He pulled the metal box out from under the bed and rifled through its contents. It was here that he kepts the few remaining mementos of his past. His human past, to be precise. There was a journal, filled with bits of writing, none of it any good. His mother's wedding ring dangled on a gold chain, and his father's pocket watch was nestled in the corner. It had long stopped ticking. Bits and pieces, and all that was left of the man they had called William, worthless sod that he had been.

Spike counted the bills carefully. Only six hundred dollars, half of what it would cost to fix those pipes, if she would even take the money from him. He bit his lip and considered his options, but in the end, he knew that you had to have money to make money. He needed to make some quick cash.

After some consideration, he waited until Buffy went out on patrol to call Xander. Telling him only that Buffy needed his help, Spike waited for the other man to arrive. "What's up?" Xander asked, coming through the newly restored door into the living room, where Spike was lounging on the sofa.

"I need your help."

Xander regarded the vampire warily. "I thought you said Buffy needed my help."

Spike shrugged. "Well, I need your help to help Buffy. You know she's havin' a bit of trouble with money."

The man nodded. "The repair on the basement just about wiped her out."

"It more than wiped her out," Spike corrected. "She needs some fast cash to hold her over for a while. I can get it, but I need someone to back me up."

"What exactly do you need from me?" Xander asked suspiciously. "Because I really don't think you're in any condition to go knocking over the Sunnydale Bank."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be a prat. Buffy wouldn't take money if I stole it from the bank." Spike sighed, knowing his real plan might not be much better. "Look, there's a high stakes poker game they play in town. I could pro'ly hustle the money playin' pool, but it wouldn't be quick enough for Buffy. I can get into the game, I can win enough to hold her over."

"Okay," Xander said. "That's assuming that you actually win."

"I've been playin' cards since before your grandfather was alive, Harris," Spike half-snarled. "I know how to win."

"Fine," he replied. "What do you need?"

"Need some more cash for one thing," Spike admitted. "Takes a thousand just to get started, and I've only got a bit over six. And I need back-up."

The look Xander gave him was less than thrilled. "Why can't you just give her the money you've got now?"

"Because it's not enough," Spike replied, exasperation coloring his tone. "It'll barely cover half the repairs, and it'll be gone quick as that. She needs real cash."

Xander nodded, beginning to see that the vampire had put some thought into this. He had money in savings, and while four hundred dollars was still a lot of money, he had enough to loan Buffy that much. But as Spike had so astutely pointed out, she needed more money than that, and there weren't a lot of legal ways to make money quickly. While playing high-stakes poker wasn't precisely legal, it certainly wasn't knocking over a bank or a convenience store either. "And what about the back-up thing?"

Spike hesitated. "If I go in there like this and win, they'll be on me in a second. I won't make it out of there alive. On the other hand, if somebody's there to back me up, I've got a chance of making it out with winnings and all body parts intact."

"If you win?"

"When I win," Spike replied, and then gave him a cocky grin. "I'm a good card player, even when I don't cheat, Harris. Means knowin' the rules of the game and playin' the odds. Normally, I'm a bit too impatient for that, end up getting bored and all, but there's a bit more at risk here, innit?"

Xander considered the logic behind the plan, and found he couldn't disagree with it. "I'll do it," he said. "But if you end up losing my money, I'm going to collect one of these days. With interest."

"Agreed." Spike pushed himself up on his crutches. "Well, let's go then."

"Now?"

"No time like the present," Spike pointed out. "'Sides, game's tonight."

A quick stop by the ATM at the bank, and Spike had the money he needed, and then he directed Xander to the warehouse district near the Bronze. "Um, Spike," Xander said, as they pulled up in front of the building the vampire had pointed out. "I hate to be the one to say it, but I don't know how much use I'll be if they decide they don't want to let you leave."

Spike looked over at Xander with something akin to respect. It took guts to admit when you were over your head, especially when it was someone you didn't like. "Not about bein' good in a fight," Spike explained. "It's about lookin' scary. You'll be fine. The only reason they'd come after me is if I cheated or they think of me as an easy target. 'M not goin' to cheat, an' you bein' there means I've got a friend."

Xander decided not to argue with the use of "friend," and thought he'd take it as a compliment that Spike thought he could at least look scary. "Why me, though?" he asked out loud as they moved towards the building.

Spike gave him the closest thing to a real smile that Xander had seen on him. "Because Red's scary, but doesn't look it and Giles wouldn't. You were the only one that would look the part and might go for it."

"And if I hadn't?" Xander asked quietly.

"I'd have tried it anyway," the other man admitted cheerfully.

The conversation ended as they entered the building, Spike's face drawing down into a look of deep concentration. The man at the door stopped both of them, asking if they had the entrance money. Spike patted his coat pocket and then explained that Xander was there as moral support. The guard looked at the braces and crutches and then nodded grudgingly, allowing both of them to pass.

Xander's eyes flitted around the room, five years of patrolling with Buffy paying off in his knowledge of how to read a room. There were already five others sitting around the table, waiting for the start. The others were human, as far as he could tell, which made him wonder why they were letting a vampire play.

"Spike, long time no see," one of the men greeted him. "You've been laying low?"

"More like laid up, Jack," came the easy reply. "Had a bit of an accident, you know."

There was a look of feigned concern on Jack's face. "So sorry to hear that." His gaze sharpened. "It's nice to know that there'll be some competition tonight."

It was then that Xander realized that Spike wasn't kidding. He played poker and enjoyed it, and apparently was known as someone who could give the professionals a run for their money. This could get very interesting.

Rules were read, and the dealer started passing out cards. Spike's first few hands were good, but he played cautiously. The other players didn't know of his undead status, which put him at a definite advantage. Everyone had tells, but Spike could "see" them more easily than the average bloke. He could sense when the heart rate sped up, or the palms got sweaty, whereas he didn't have to worry about that. As a vampire, he had the ultimate poker face.

Xander, per instructions, had placed himself where he could see the game, but couldn't see anyone's cards. No one wanted to risk an outsider giving out information by a sudden intake of breath or an eyeblink that was just a little too rapid. He knew Spike was playing carefully. He wasn't winning big money, but at no point did he lose big either. In fact, Xander wouldn't have even realized that he was winning except that the pile of chips in front of him was growing larger instead of smaller.

The rules ended the game at 4 am, and Jack and Spike were the definite winners of the evening. To Xander's relief, no one accused anyone of cheating, and it looked as though his presence wasn't going to be needed, which was just fine with him. As they exited the building, Spike's winnings carefully tucked inside his duster, Jack came up behind them. "Hey, Spike."

The vampire turned to regard the other man warily. "What is it, Jack?"

"That was some tight playing you did in there," the stocky man said quietly, "but it wasn't your usual style. What's up?"

Spike was surprised to see concern in the other man's eyes. He'd played poker with the man in the past, gotten beaten by him, and beaten him soundly in return. It wasn't supposed to be a friendly relationship, and yet it was. "Gotta girl who needs the money, mate," Spike replied honestly. "Couldn't afford to piss it away tonight."

The man nodded, understanding in his shrewd eyes. "Watch your back," he said softly. "I'm not going to be saying anything, but word gets around you're injured like that, they're going to be after you in a heartbeat."

Spike shrugged. "Let 'em come. Maybe they'll get lucky."

Xander watched the exchange, not really knowing how he felt about it. It seemed strange that Spike might know people outside the Scoobies, stranger still that some might even call themselves friendly acquaintances. He let Spike get into the car and stored the crutches in the back seat, noticing as he did so that Spike seemed especially tired. "You okay?" he asked.

"Fine." He took a deep unnecessary breath. "Playing with that kind of control takes a bit out of you." He took the sheaf of bills out of his jacket and started counting out Xander's money, offering it to him. From what the other man could tell, Spike must have won over two thousand to add to what he'd brought in.

"Keep it," Xander said as Spike held out the money. "Think of it as my contribution to the Buffy fund."

"Ta," Spike said, and kept counting. He peeled off a few bills, stuck them in one pocket, and then put the rest back where it came from. At Xander's questioning glance, he said, "Seed money. Figure I could make better than fifty a night playin' pool."

"Can you still play?" Xander asked.

Spike nodded. "Think so. Take me a couple times around to find my balance again, but I could do it."

Xander thought for a minute and then said, "Let me know when. I'm not that great, but you can practice beating me before you start losing money."

"Thanks," Spike said again. "Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but you're not so bad."

"Yeah, well, same goes here," Xander replied. "You kind of grow on a guy. Like fungus."

Spike grinned at the insult. "Yeah, well, just so you know, I still don't like you."

"And I still think you're the evil undead. Just so we're clear."

"As crystal."

Submit a Review!