"Happens I got rid of the chip."
Xander's gaze darted around the shop, skirting over the owner, dead between the bookcases. Why'd it have to be me, picking pick up magic stuff tonight, he wondered. But no, if Spike's going to kill anyone, I'd rather me than Willow. Although, since he's already eaten, maybe he'd just leave?
"What? Not gonna run?" Spike asked. Xander glanced at the door, knowing he wouldn't make it that far. "Oh, come on. It's more fun if you run."
"Ha, you're a poet and you don't even know it," Xander replied with a bit of grade school mockery. Hey, fighting wasn't going to work, maybe distraction would.
"What?" Spike looked pissed.
And, OK, maybe that wasn't the way to go.
"Enough playing," Spike said, stalking towards him.
Xander grabbed one of the lit candles and held it out towards Spike, who jerked back. Huh, Xander wondered and then he remembered: vampires, highly flammable. Waving the candle towards Spike, he asked, "Afraid of a little fire, scarecrow?"
Spike rolled his eyes and blew the candle out.