Glaring at Spike, Lane tried to process what he was saying.
"I never said it was rational," he yelled, considering kicking a table as he paced near it. He turned and jabbed a finger in the air at Spike. "And I'm certainly not getting out the evil measuring stick against a fucking vampire!"
Lane paced toward Spike, focus angry and sharp. "I may not stack up to your level of depravity and joy, but I know how it works. I'm not blind to it, Spike. Yeah, for me it was a job, for you, it was a lifestyle." He ground to a halt, nose-to-nose with Spike, breathing hard in frustration and anger. "I don't know why, or-fuck- how, but I do!" Lane waved his hand in the air. "Fangs and pissy attitude, everything."
Lane stepped back and wrapped his arms around himself, feeling rejected. Better to get a grip on himself now, start working his way out of the emotional woods before nightfall. This was exactly what was to be expected - emotional investments just never paid off.
But he'd been somewhat blind-sided by all this - by Spike. Probably easier to choke down the humiliation down now, rather than later. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, feeling his anger fizzle and die. "Maybe I should have kept it to myself."