Jack didn't know who this Nicholson person was, but he was decidedly not that guy. So he ignored it entirely. Jack was good with pretending things didn't happen.
"I am." His grin was bigger. Better than Spike's. But only because of who he was. It couldn't conceivably be any other way. "You're wondering." Jack moved closer. "Why I don't look like myself. I know you are. I can see it in your wicked little eyes. I'll tell you why, good friend Spike."
He moved closer still. "Because I don't want to be. I like blending in." His voice was nearing a whisper. "I can do all kinds of terrible things when I'm not sticking out like a sore thumb."
Jack held his arm out. "It's still pale, but it's more naturally so. Isn't it pretty." He tugged on his hair. "Couldn't do anything about that, other than dye it. Fancy, right? Now I look like everybody else. Oh the things I've done just because people didn't recognize me. It's fun, Spike. It's a lot of fun."
One leg went out to the side, and Jack slid away again, still smiling. Still grinning the maniac grin that came so naturally.
"Tell me. Is it the hair, or is it impaling people?"