A friend's house. Okay. Spike didn't throw stones. Mainly because his life was so precariously constructed, emotionally speaking, right now that anything that hit him was going to shatter it.
"Okay. So what've you got to go on?"
Legitimately, he was trying to help her. At least until he knew what her deal was, what kind of power she was full of. And this was better than re-runs.
Spike smirked. It took time to claw your way out of a coffin. He'd told Buffy that, once. He knew himself, from experience. If he knew Molly better, he'd make the same joke.
But he didn't. She could be smart enough to carry stakes, and get even more jumpy that she was earlier if he said anything.
"They're new," Spike said. He meant it. Those noises didn't happen that often. Whatever was coming was new to the cemetery, or new-born. "Whatever they are. No rustlin' in these parts since Halloween. Then it was all moans and groans."
He blew out a line of smoke. "Stay for the show or go find your friend's house?" he asked, tilting his head.