"You look fine," Lilith says.
        "You're evil, right? Bernie gets all shaky, worse than Minnie...my chihuahua, when he sees you. How did you do it? Teach me."
        "Teach you...? How to be evil?" By the slight bite of her tongue, it's clear what Lilith's said is intended for double-meaning.
        Harmony doesn't catch on. "Yeah. Like...ooh, how did you get the title?"
        She thinks she needs to be evil for Spike to look at her, thinks she needs to change herself for him to finally treat her decently. Half of the time he's ignoring her, the other half he's annoyed by her. But Harmony tells Lilith — not that Lilith cares to know — that she just won't leave him because it makes for such great sex, and he still owes her that trip to France. Speaking of France...
        "I killed some people in France."
        In her book, some people meant a hundred. Men, children, and puppies alike. Those two years spent alongside Dru and Spike had earned Lilith her biggest gig yet. The Massacre of Paris—her biggest gig yet. The thrill of it, the chaos, and Dru's laughter in the carnage—it was almost enough to make her miss the old days. 
        Other than the thrill of the kill, there was Dru. 
        "That's it? No big grr, I ate kittens...or shredded my sister's magazines after I told her Minnie did it?"
        "What?"
        Harmony shrugs. "I'm just saying. Even Spike killed two slayers."
        "Killing slayers is stupid. They only pop up again."
        Harmony feels like she's learned more with Lilith in two days than in the two months she's spent with Spike. "Why does my boyfriend hate you?"
        "I don't know. Ask him."
        Lilith does know why Spike might hate her, she simply lies about it. She doesn't think it's hatred he feels, just very strong dislike. Okay, he did try to drill a hole through her hand yesterday after she got too snappy, and the day before that, he tried to make a boulder fall on her after she said some brutally honest things. Regardless of that, he lets her stay here, it must mean something. Like, she did make a pathetic fool out of him, but the good memories outweigh the bad, right? 
        Right?
        As if speak of the devil, Spike leans against the doorway—a jagged hole in the wall—his gaze already on her. "Lilith, it's been so long. Have you always looked like that? Must be the years. Things aren't as firm anymore."
        She lied, sometimes Spike does get under her skin. She smiles tightly and brushes past him. "That's what happened to your hair? Withered with the years?"
        "I think it's cute! Like a peroxide porcupine!" Harmony pipes in.
        Spike glares. "What's wrong with my hair?"


☀︎


        At the party, Lilith busies herself with cups of beer and complains about just everything here. She decides she hates human parties, there are no massacres or orgies to enjoy herself with. It almost makes her miss the sweet warmth of Hell.
        She ditched Harmony and Spike the moment she arrived, the two annoying losers she didn't want to be associated with — until some guy named Dylan approaches her and tries to make conversation, which makes her miss their company.
        She is going to need something stronger than beer if she's going to stay here any longer, she regrets not raiding Spike's stash before coming here. "Know where they keep the hard stuff?" she asks Dylan.