Now that was beautiful. Spike had to admit it - Dark Willow? She had style. He was suddenly very glad that she had been more interested in ridding him of his pathetic soul. It would have been a terrible waste if he had died again playing the role of the foolish hero. What a disgusting word. Spike eyed the humans, looking over their expressions one by one as he slowly began to circle the room. So many lives, so little time. Where was he going to start? The pudgy man in the corner? The shaking bartender? The woman in the silver dress - ah, strike that. She was a he. Spike would save the crossdresser for Willow. That was more her style, anyway.
He decided on the thin college student. Spike reached forward, yanked him down to his knees with one hand, and turned to look over at Willow. "Now, before I kill slim over here, what do you think about me raising our numbers a little? The more of us that we have on the street, the better. Besides," he pulled the boy under his arm and started walking, "I'm going to need a few people to back me up if I'm going to give our dear Buffy hell for what she did to me." He used to work with other vampires. They were good for distracting the heroes while he waited for the right moment to pull any fatal attacks himself. Always the distraction. They were useless for everything and anything else.