The ponce what was dancin' down the street like a faery worried Spike, just a little. Looked like the guy was going to talk to him. Spike raised an eyebrow at the guy.
And yes, here he was, batting his eyelashes at him. Spike snorted a laugh, and looked down at the idiot, fighting the serious urge to blow smoke in his face. The cigarette dangled from his lips as he spoke.
Tell me, friend... are you a villain?
"Depends on a lot of things," Spike said. "And I don't think any of 'em are your bloody business, nancy boy."
The snort came again. Still, this guy was familiar. Why was he familiar? And why was he standing so goddamn close?
"Back away, now," Spike said. "Or I'll have to get mean."