She'd noticed him coming long before he was close enough to say anything. Vampire, hair like a beacon in the darkness, and that way he had of walking, of taking up room -- had to be Spike. But she pretended like she hadn't noticed, like there was a chance he'd walk by without saying anything, just two relative strangers with nothing to do with each other... No, of course not.
"Hi Spike," she sighed, aware that she ought to be pointing out how he was breaking their agreement yet again, or gearing up in case he was going to do one of those crazy Spikish things that he probably didn't do now that he had a soul. But she was just so tired of it all. And somehow, vampire or not, the Spike she sort of understood or not, he didn't seem like that much of a threat.
"I'm looking for streetlight runes," she said, skipping right over the whole 'your flat' issue. It had never felt like home -- or even much like hers, really. And now... "They only show up under a streetlight." Actually, she wouldn't put something like that past some of the more paranoid Watchers. Watchers were a really strange group of people when you really paid attention to what they wrote in their diaries. She'd been lucky to have Giles. She should have appreciated him more when she had him.
She sighed, then closed the book, slipped it back into her pack and turned, assuming a defensive posture and cocking her head to the side. The pose said almost as clearly as if she'd actually said it: what do you want, Spike?