Spike knows a lot of things.
Hell, Spike’s created a lot of knowledge about a lot of things, and for more people than he can name, or even remember.
He’s been alive—or existing, whichever—for well over a hundred years, after all.
Granted, most of the people he’s taught new things to are dead… and largely because of the things they learned from him, but… whatever.
The point is, Spike knows more than most.
He knows how to hunt a target—though he also knows they call it ‘stalking’ now.
He knows how to calm a radically insane semi-immortal woman until she’s willing to not walk out into the sun, although he can’t blame himself for the fact that Dru had done exactly that a mere year earlier. He hadn’t been there, after all… because she couldn’t abide the fact that he had a soul, and that same soul couldn’t quite bear to trail around after someone so unrepentant, though her joy in the kill had been… well, disturbing, but also kind of cute when she wasn’t in one of her moods, but… enough.
Spike knows how to pick a lock, hold up a convenience store without getting caught… how to retool the head gasket for a 1956 Cadillac… but he doesn’t know how to do this.
‘This’ being, of course, seducing the great lumbering bloke sitting so nearby and yet so far away.
It doesn’t help any that Slayer, Head Watcher and Chief Witch all seem to think this is a good idea.
It doesn’t even help that each of them has indicated in some way or other that they’re pretty sure Harris swings both ways.
In fact, it helps so little that Spike’s pretty sure he’s fighting a losing battle, and the first shot hasn’t even been fired yet.
The boy—because Harris will always be ‘the boy’ to him, or more precisely, his boy—hasn’t given him any sign at all that he’s even remotely interested in getting involved with yet another demon, and the last thing Spike really wants is to set himself up for still another disappointment, but he can’t seem to help it. He’s been off his rocker ever since the first time he ran into the boy again at Council HQ, after all.
Not off his rocker like he’s gone insane, but… for fuck’s sake, how many yearning glances can he cast at a bloke who’s so oblivious, he doesn’t even know Spike’s there?