William looked around. It wasn't the best place, but it was home. Yes you read that right, home. This wasn't a bar, it wasn't a club, it wasn't some shady Smackdown Hotel and it didn't sell Pie. It was Spike's home. The Big Bad really hadn't been comfortable living in the HQ since taking up residence in Detroit, there was just too much... temptation. All those warm bodies, and throats, ripe for the ripping. It was hard on a young, virile Vampire such as he. Yes young, don't you bloody well snort at me sonny. Its only been 40 odd years since Dru Sired me... anyway, back to the sodding narrative. Spike was glad he had parted company with Angelus and Darla, neither had shown him the respect he was due, even after he had slain that Slayer during the Boxter revolution. Neither of them had managed to kill a bloody slayer. Wankers the pair of them.

So here he was, in Detroit, a member of the Mafia, with a licence to kill, maim and torture all in the name of the boss. And what does a Big Bad mafioso need but an office! So that was why Spike had scouted out a suitable space. So he'd scouted out Elmwood Cemetary, and picked a good Crypt, belong to the Buhl family, killed the pack of Gnarl Demons already living there, and set up home. He'd run a cable to the nearby chapel of rest, and had lights set up. Plus he'd stolen a wireless set from the Slippery Slope Cantina, a desk he stole from Wigglebutt's HQ, well his office to be exact, along with a few lamps and his car, some soft furnishings and the contents of his Liquor cabinet... and the cabinet itself, before loading it all up into his Packard Straight 6 and driving non stop back to Detroit... lets face it, he wouldn't be blooding needing it any more.

So now his home was office was all set up, and by dumping old man Buhl's body into the sewer, he had a nice bed for the day as well. Now when the boss needed the trash taken out, or some of his pals wanted to play poker for Kittens, he had a place. Not to mention he could plan the demise of the sodding slayer. He'd seen Buffy strutting down the street, like she owned the damn place, but Spike now had a place to plan her demise. He'd already killed one slayer, how hard would it be to drink the blood of another? The Big Bad was back and ready to rumble!