Group Three-fighters
Cigarette in hand, Spike watched with a wrinkle of interest as the magic users went about their merry way trying to make it so that they could burst into the scene without going up in flames or whatever it was that they were generally supposed to be terribly wary of. He'd been briefed on the details, of course, but the vampire had been so set on the idea of going at it in a proper fight that he didn't mind so much about what everyone else was saying. They weren't all close, he knew what not to do - killing the humans, for starters - and he knew that he could hold his own on the field. That was all that really mattered to him.
Plus, of course, there was the chance to go in and kill a bunch of bastards without building up too much of a fuss. He found that doing that in his own club, especially on the sidelines, did nothing to appease the people observing. This was a different matter entirely and it would be good for him, as he really did enjoy getting his hands dirty.
Faith was there too. Some of the others. He supposed, if anything, this would be a chance to get back some of those bittersweet memories from the Hellmouth. Everything related to Sunnydale in general had been failing him lately, which was a right shame when it came down to it. He had believed those to be his 'defining' years and now it felt like it was all going to waste. Knowing that Faith, Anya, even Xander were out there, putting it all in for a fight? It felt all right. Not too shabby, he supposed.
Keeping his cigarette between his lips, Spike arched a brow and eyed the other members of his group. Faith and Anya. Not bad to start with. At least he had a Slayer among his ranks. Feeling a bit pleased about that, he smirked a bit and simply said, "I've been set for the past three hours, love. Can we get to the killing bit now or shall we toss in a proper rain dance for good measure?"