"Not in any town on earth," he agrees with a razor-edged smile. It's hyperbole -- not like he spent his hundred odd years traveling round with an atlas and a number two sodding pencil -- but not by much. The edge, that's for himself. Mostly. Not her, anyway. A little for Angel, who even has to win at being older, more jaded and more tired.

"I'm Spike," he adds, belatedly. Not one of his better nights for repartee.