The Bronze was quiet for a Tuesday night. There was no band, and the waitresses were even more wary of Spike than usual.
Spike sat at his usual table, picking at one of those deep fried onions he was always trying to push on other people. For Spike, it was the novelty of the thing. An entire onion fried so it looked like a flower in full bloom, but crusted with some kind of batter. They came from Australia, apparently.
"Bloody Australians. They should have sent those debtors to Antarctica instead..."
"What was that?"
Spike snaps his head up. Xander's standing on the other side of the table.
"I was bloody talking to myself. Are you going to run off and tell the slayer I have a grudge against Australians?"
"I really don't think she cares about that."
"Off with you then. Can't I get some peace?"
"In the Bronze? Good place for peace."
"It's not exactly rip roarin' fun in here tonight, is it?"
"I suppose not." Xander takes a glance around the club. It's mostly people sitting alone, like Spike.
"Well, carry on with your crabbiness."
Spike glares at Xander as he walks away. Spike sneaks a quick look around the Bronze for Buffy. The last thing he needs tonight is Buffy to show up and...
"Hey Spike."
Spike looks up again.
"Hi Willow. How are you this evening?"
"Whoa! Who put the bees in your bonnet?"
Spike scowls and picks at his onion.
"Have you seen Xander?"
"Yeah. That way," Spike says, cocking his head towards Xander's table.
"Thanks."
Willow walks away.
"Willow," Spike calls.
Willow turns to look at Spike.
"Is Buffy coming by tonight?"
Willow colours.
"You leave Buffy alone! We all know what you want from her and you know she's been having a rough-"
"Forget it. I was leaving anyway."
Spike grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and leaves without paying his tab.

Spike wanders the streets of Sunnydale. There's nothing on TV. He has no one to go home to for amusement with that twit Harmony gone and there's nothing good on television on Tuesday nights. Even a night with that bastard Angel would be better than this. He could take a spin by Buffy's, but getting caught out there was the last thing he needed. Xander and Willow out to protect the slayer. Just what everyone needed.
What he did need was a good stiff drink. If the liquor store were closed he'd break in and get some... some...
What he really needed was blood. Live blood. Virgin blond blood. Not cold donor blood, not pig blood, or sheep blood, but blood from a real live girl, one who bore a resemblance to Buffy. That would make everything better. No more bloody cat blood.
Bloody cat blood. How cute.
If Sunnydale were bigger, he might find some murder victim in a dumpster.
Dead blood wasn't good. But it was still better than rats.
Anything is better than rats.
The butcher is still open.

Spike leaves the butcher's with a pint of cow's blood, still warm. It was probably fresh. But he thought the butcher might have nuked it for the profit margin. He always wondered if the microwave killed the nutritional value.
Oh well. It's still blood.
Now all he needs is a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. And a bag of Cheetos. Maybe breaking into the video store for a copy of Terms of Endearment. Last time Spike tried to break into the video store he almost got caught by the cops. He would have fried, literally, in a cell in the morning. Maybe he'd just watch some late night TV.

On the way back to his place, Spike sees Giles's car parked on the side of the road. The mischief hits him and he breaks the window, climbs in and hotwires it.
He squeals off, pushing the car to its maximum speed. After taking a spin around the block, he signals to turn to leave Giles's car where he found it. Sirens.
"Bloody hell."
But it's just an ambulance. Spike pulls over and lets them pass, then does a U-turn to park Giles's car facing the wrong direction, just where it was before he stole it.
"That'll get him."
Spike walks back to his crypt, stopping to rip off a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from a hotel bar. Luckily, there's a Monty Python marathon on and it carries him through to Passions the next day.

The End.