People so often looked upon Spike with distaste that discerning whether that meant they were having a bad day they wanted to take out on him or because they thought he was still running around killing people was a guessing game at best. It took him a minute to place her, considering the last time he'd seen her she'd looked different and she was supposed to be dead. Bit of that was going around, apparently.

He sighed, barely a dignified response.

"Oh. You again."

He was wary of completely turning his back on Cordelia, but he did turn some, far enough to swipe a matchbook off the bar top and away from some poor bastard who was too engrossed in slurred conversation to notice he was being robbed — by the girl using him for free drinks. He didn't seem like he'd miss the matches. Normally, he would slip outside into a dark alley to enjoy a smoke in solitude but he was equally as fine with ruining her outfit with the thick smell of cigarette smoke.

"Always pegged you for more of a cosmopolitan girl."