One of the big reasons Spike had avoided the Hellmouth was the Master. He'd never gotten along with the bat-faced git--due to the fact he refused to kiss his wrinkled, white arse or bare his own--but he also found his court the most boring place ever.
All that bowing and scraping and ritual crap--he'd had enough of that when he was alive, why in Satan's name would he want to continue it for all eternity? Nothing ever changed at court and all the vampires seemed stuck in the far distant past.
For Spike time marched on and he was happy with that. He liked America with all its freedom and Democracy. It lacked any of the protocol and pomp and circumstance of his youth. Only for Drusilla did he return to Europe on occasion, letting her revel in the ways of the past.
Only for Drusilla would he ever contemplate going to the Hellmouth.
It was pure luck that he waited long enough for the Master to get his arse staked by the current Slayer. It was the perfect time to shake things up and drag Clan Aurelius into the modern world.
To Spike's disgust the chosen golden brat was just like the Master and so he had to go. At least the kid hadn't taken over the Master's sewer domain, so they didn't need to move, but Spike's first priority was cable.
Things were definitely going to change around here.
End