[ That smug smirk is not going anywhere but no, he won't waste time. Grabbing her wrist in a way that could almost be mistaken for gentle Spike shoots the girl a glance before biting into her wrist, half-bracing for the skull-splitting pain that's bound to come any moment now.
But there is no pain. The chip doesn't fire — instead it's the taste that has him pull back prematurely. It's unexpected, reminiscent of something he's chased his entire undead life but hasn't had a good taste of since the seventies. It's enough to push him right out of his gameface, now-blue eyes turning to look at her with some confusion.