“Y-Yeah… G’night.” Spike blinked and shook his head, scratching the quills on the side of his skull as if confused by something. Handy left the common room, making his way to his own dark cabin, something which made him groan every time he entered it and remembered he habitually chose not to have any lanterns in here. Being night-time and the porthole window being covered, it was quite literally pitch black in here. Using a trick he had learned from an otherwise superfluous ability the changelings gave him, he allowed his eyes to glow once more. It was a pitiful amount of golden illumination, but it did allow him to see things roughly a foot in front of him, enough to allow his occupied hands to fumble with the deadbolt to lock the door of his cabin.