Typical for him and his strange problems. Spike should just be grateful that they're on better terms. Kind of. He hasn't exactly tested that theory when she hasn't been drinking.

Amusement over his tame teasing starts to wear off as he waits for the elevator and catches a reflection of how comfortable she's getting in his hair. Like he needs dust in it.

But whatever, it digs and he ducks inside the door, jamming his finger on Brock's floor a second later. The sooner he does this, the sooner he can forget about having any concern for tiny-Molotov.