Ch.20: Raw emotion

                                    

                                          

    Walking into Spike's crypt, I looked around the place. He was certainly bringing it along as it was starting to look more like a shitty apartment and less like a crappy crypt. Putting my hands into my pockets, I looked at the candles lighting up the place.
  "Well, well. You can take the boy out of the Initiative, but you can't take the Initiative out of the boy." Spike walked out of the shadows while holding a loaded crossbow.
  "I'd put that down unless you're bucking for one Hell of a headache." Riley pointed at the weapon. Spike looked down and sniffed.
  "I can't be too careful." He said while setting it down. "I got quite a few demons after me these days." Spike gave a proud smirk while sticking his thumbs behind his belt buckle as he walked toward Riley.
  "I'm lookin' for some information. Might pay a little." Riley stated.
  "I'll play." The vampire then walked toward a reclining chair and a side table. "Oh, since when did you and the halfbreed start hangin' out?" He said when he finally saw me, and I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms.
  "What can you tell us about Dracula, blood-breath?" I asked.
  "Blood-breath? Heh, that's good." Riley gave a short and small laugh. Spike rolled his eyes and scoffed.
  "Dracula?" He grabbed a cancer stick and set it between his lips. "Poncy bugger owes me 11 pounds, for one thing.
  "You know him?" Riley crossed his arms while raising his brows.
  "Know him? We're old rivals." Spike flipped open his lighter and made a little flame. Lighting his cigarette, he looked away. "But then he got famous and forgot all about his foes." He then looked at us and pointed. "I'll tell you what. That glory hound's done more harm to vampires than any Slayer. His story gets out, and suddenly, everybody knows how to kill us." He raised his hands out at his sides before sitting down. "You know, the mirror bit-"
  "But he's not just a regular vampire." I cut in before Spike went on a rant.
  "He has special powers, right?" Riley asked.
  "Nothin' but showy gypsy stuff." Spike made a face while waving his hand. "What's it to you, anyway?"
  "He's in town, making his presence known." Riley then walked a bit away while looking around. Spike grinned while propping his feet up.
  "Drac's in Sunnydale, way." He took a drag from his cigarette. "I guess the old boy needed closure after all."
  "Actually, he's gunning for Buffy." I shifted on my feet.
  "And we're out to find him before he gets another shot at her." Riley sat down on a concrete bench.
  "Tough talk, cowboy. But you're not gonna catch him napping in a crypt." Spike gestured at his place. "No, the Count has to have his luxury estate and his bug-eaters and his special dirt, doesn't he?"
  "So you're saying we should check out mansions, that sort of thing?" Riley asked.
  "No." Spike stood up. "I'm saying you two kitties should go home- you to your super honey, have a nice, safe snog," He dropped his cancer stick and put it out. "and you to your Papa Bear and stuff your face with snacks." Spike looked at both of us. "You're out of your depths on this one, kids." He turned and took a few steps away.
  "You've helped Buffy before, so she has a problem with killing you now that you're helpless...." I trailed off.
  "We don't." Riley finished. Spike turned around and walked back toward us.