"You decide to skip town and you aim for Nebraska?" Spike scoffed incredulously. "I was never the expert on teen angst, but I'm sure there's a rule out there that says that if you're gonna run away, it'd better be someplace cool. Hip. Fun." Spike squinted up at the brightening sky thoughtfully. "Like Vegas. I'd go to Vegas, if I were you." Strip clubs, casinos, fancy hotels. Oh, yeah. Spike'd definitely give that place a good run for it's money. It didn't seem much like Buffy's scene though - but then again, neither did Nebraska, of all places.
Grateful that Buffy's first instinct was to turn to the shadows so that they could talk someplace where Spike wasn't at risk of becoming victim to an extremely deadly sunburn (at least not yet), Spike followed her over without hesitation, turning to the darkest spot that he could find before he focused his attention back on Buffy. They had a little time before things got deadly for him. The surrounding area was still tinged with enough dark that Spike felt like he could probably turn back and make it to the complex just before the sun fully rose if he left now. Except he wasn't leaving now. Spike didn't plan on going anywhere until he was sure Buffy changed her mind and stuck around. Basically: he needed to convince her to stop being an idiot. Running away was a crap idea. "Oh, you know. Was out for a stroll." That was sort of true. Sort of. Didn't make much sense for someone who was viciously nocturnal, but it was sort of true. "Saw you. Thought I'd say hello." Spike wiped that calm, casual look from his face and nodded toward the ticket in Buffy's hand. "All right, truth be told? I saw you sneaking off and thought you might've been up to something. Turns out, I was right." Spike folded his own arms across his chest, shrugging. "Try not to look too surprised. I'm right almost all the time." Yeah, okay. Now that was a lie.
"D'you want to tell me what you're running away from or am I going to have to follow you to bleeding Nebraska to get the answer out of you?"