Leaving

“Yer serious?” Buffy drawled, bringing the bottle to her mouth on only the second attempt.

“Yeah, sure I'm serious. What, you don't?” Derek smiled disarmingly at his drinking companion, from what he’d seen tonight in the cemetery it wouldn’t do to piss her off.

“Nup. Not a cent. Some bullshit about 'sacred duty'.”

“Man, that really sucks,” he commiserated. An idea struck him. “You know if you’re looking to freelance, I could always use someone like you on my team.”

“Yeah? You got room for one more?”

“Sure”

Buffy fumbled for her cell-phone. “Spike? Willy's, now! We have a job.”