[Reviews - 198]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2627 times

- Text Size +




Buffy woke the next morning feeling unbelievably content.

For the first time since she’d been called she felt at peace with the world and with everyone in it. Happy. So happy. Still drowsy, she ran her hands across Spikes chest, achingly tender on his bandaged wounds. She wasn’t aware of having an audience until she heard coughing. Mom type coughing.

Sheepishly Buffy turned her head to the side, and sure enough there was Joyce, her bag at her feet, her hands on her hips and a quizzical raised eyebrow.


Buffy eased herself carefully from the couch, checked that Spike was still sleeping undisturbed, and led the way into the kitchen. Joyce, unaccountably relieved by her daughters fully clothed state, followed her.


Joyce was trying not to smile as she watched Buffy fiddle nervously with the hem of her t-shirt. Putting on her best mom voice she said, “So, things with you and Spike are sorted out then? You talked about whatever was wrong?”


Buffy flushed and couldn’t help the dazzling grin that dominated her features. “Um, yeah we talked and stuff." Buffy blushed harder when she realised what she'd implied and backtracked frantically, "We watched TV... and...and ate food, and stuff like that! I told you yesterday he was in a bad way when he got here. He’s a lot better now, but I didn’t want to leave him last night, in case he had, like a relapse or – or something.”

In the face of her daughters obvious happiness Joyce found herself smiling in return. “Well, in light of Spike’s injuries I think I can ignore the ‘no boys staying over’ rule. But, if he needs to stay any longer he can sleep in the spare room. Alone.”

Buffy blushed again. “Yes mom.” Desperate to turn the conversation away from her, Spike and their sleeping arrangements, Buffy asked her mom about her trip.


By the time the door bell announced the arrival of Giles and Anna, mother and daughter had caught up on each other’s lives.

Spike had also woken and Joyce, horrified by his obvious injuries, had been quickly fussing about him.


“Let me fluff those pillows for you dear. Can I get you something to eat? Pancakes perhaps? Buffy always loved pancakes when she was sick. Are you warm enough? Are you too warm? We’ll see if you can walk soon. If you can I’ll run you a bath and get you a clean change of clothes, I’m sure I’ll have something around here that will fit.”


Buffy watched it all with amusement. Spike seemed a little bewildered by the wave of kindness and care, but he rode it out gratefully.

The idea of a bath greatly appealed to him, his wounds had bled a little around the stitching and it itched horribly.

Getting to the bath was a different matter entirely. Spike had to lean heavily on Buffy in order to move forwards at all. Progress was slow and he stumbled often. Climbing the stairs sapped most of the energy he had gained through sleep, and Buffy was alarmed to see his colour drain.

She felt a mixture of relief and concern when she removed Spikes bandages. He was definitely healing, but the improvement was nowhere near as rapid as it had been initially. He was mending, but slowly. Buffy determined to press him again to drink from her, as soon as they were alone.

Joyce had run a bath, filling it with soothing oils and laying out her fluffiest towels.
Spike gently refused Buffy’s offer of help, knowing the thought would make Joyce uncomfortable. The relief that had showed on Joyce’s face made up for how much he struggled on his own, and how frustrated he got with his own weakness.


By the time Giles and Anna arrived Spike was washed, his wounds were redressed and he was wearing some of Buffy’s father’s old clothes. Buffy hadn’t realised that Joyce had kept mementos from a marriage which had ended before they’d even moved to Sunnydale. The new knowledge made her sad, and more aware then she had ever been that her mom must often be lonely.


Spikes hair, freed from its usual gel, sprung up all over the place in unruly curls. Spike kept trying to pat them flat with obvious distaste, and Buffy kept fluffing them back up with delight. They made him look younger, less world weary, and provided such a lovely contrast with the strong planes of his face. Buffy decided that the next time she was at Spikes place she was going to chuck out any hair gel she could find.


Buffy knew, as soon as she saw the expression on Giles face, that he did not have good news to share. This was confirmed by his first words.

“I have bad news I’m afraid Buffy, bad news indeed.”

Buffy sighed loudly and stood aside to let Giles and Anna in. “Why is it never good news? Why can’t you ever come over and say, ‘Buffy, terribly good news, there’s a candy and puppies fair in town!’ that would so make for a nice change.”

Giles gave her his patented overly patient look, and followed Anna into the house.

Anna immediately rushed to Spikes side. She was obviously pleased to see Spike awake, but seemed a little nervous about how he would greet her in light of the fact she had directly gone against his request by bringing him straight to Buffy.

She needn’t have worried. As soon as she was within reach Spike grabbed Anna’s hand and pulled her in for a firm hug. The way he whispered ‘thank you’ and the happiness that shone from his eyes told Anna that the welcome Buffy had given him had been the reverse of what he’d expected.

Anna smiled at him, and patted his arm fondly. “I should be thanking you! I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you Spike. I honestly thought my luck had run out.”

Spike grinned, “It’s a good thing I’m a hot bloke with super powers then init?” He lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Talkin of hot blokes, I take it you and Giles got along nicely?”

Anna went beet read and swatted at him before beginning to check over his injuries. “Shhh you! Get your mind out of the gutter. Honestly! We just had a nice talk. Seeing as I spend most of my time with friends like you it makes a change for me to have intellectual, adult conversation!”

Spike gave her a ‘who are you kidding?’ look, but after hearing his name mentioned, Giles turned from where he had been exchanging pleasantries with Joyce to Spike and Anna.

Anna had completed her examination of Spikes recovery, and she made sure Buffy heard her assessment. “Much better than I was expecting, but the damage to your left leg particularly is still quite severe.” She took in Spikes obvious cleanness and shook her head sternly. “You shouldn’t have tried to get up those stairs" She waggled her finger at him, "Don’t do it again! With a regular blood intake you should be ok to move about in a couple of days, but don’t push it.”

Buffy stared involuntarily at Spikes damaged leg, before running off to get him some more pigs blood and making a big show of tucking a blanket back around him. “No more moving for you mister.”

Spike smiled at her forceful care, but inside he was counting the days to the full moon. He would be better by then. He’d make sure of it.

Giles was genuinely pleased to have Spike back in one piece, and this latest heroic act had added many points to the hero worship scale. He asked to hear the story of the fight, ooing and ahhing throughout.

Before all the gushing, and all the gruesome details, made Buffy feel too nauseated she interrupted, “Uh Giles, I don’t mean to be all doom and gloom girl, but didn’t you say you had bad news?”

Giles, who was laughing at something Spike had said, immediately sobered and looked grave.

“Ah yes, that. Well, I suppose we had better talk.”

Giles waited until Anna was seated before sitting beside her (too close to her in Buffy’s opinion). He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. A sure sign he was stressed.

Joyce made them all some tea before excusing herself, claiming she needed to unpack and catch up on some sleep. Buffy knew her mom really just wanted to be unaware of any new danger her daughter faced. Knowing about it never helped Joyce, she could never do anything to help and it made the worrying all the worse. Buffy understood and gave her a reassuring hug before she disappeared upstairs.


Buffy sat next to Spike and unthinkingly took his hand, twinning their fingers together. Giles deliberately ignored it.

“So Giles, what’s gone wrong now?”

Giles and Anna exchanged an uneasy glance, but it was Anna who answered. “This morning I tried to use my ability to sense werewolves to find the general location of the one you’re looking for. I, or rather, Giles and I, combined my natural ability with a locator spell so we could narrow down the search area as much as possible. It should have worked, but we came up against a block.”

Buffy’s interest was all awakened, but before Anna could continue Spike spoke up.

“A magical block. A barrier, shielding the werewolf, protectin it from your sight. Am I right?”

Giles eyebrows rose slightly, but Anna didn’t react. She had known Spike long enough to realise that nothing he said or knew could surprise her.

Giles nodded heavily. “That’s right, that’s it exactly. We tried to trace the spell’s origins, but it proved impossible. It was sloppily cast, which indicates the spell was not performed by a magical adept, but it was strong, too strong for us to break or bypass, which indicates great power. It is really quite alarming.”

Buffy was majorly annoyed to have yet another set back, but she didn’t see what was so alarming about the situation. “So, we still don’t know where the hairy evil is, and we don’t have a way of finding him. No big, we’ll just have to get him the old fashioned patrolling- with- sharp- heavy- objects way.”

Giles shook his head, “Buffy, this spell means that the werewolf has either some skill, and a lot of power, when it comes to wielding magical forces, or its working with someone who is. Either way, it means fighting the creature will be even more dangerous and difficult then we’d anticipated.”

Buffy turned to Spike, “Hey, you’re all good with the hocus pocus kinda stuff, couldn’t you break the spell?”

Giles stiffened, “Buffy, If I, with all my resources, couldn’t find a way then – “

Spike interrupted, “Rupes is right pet, I’m good at what I do but I mostly make things up as I go along. If he says the spell can’t be bypassed then it can’t be bypassed. I don’t like to use magic too much if I can help it, there’s always consequences to it, so there’s plenty I don’t know. Should be takin lessons from the watcher really, get my skills more well rounded like.”

Giles went from stiff to swollen with pride, “Well, Spike anytime you would like to get together and share knowledge, over a drink perhaps – I would only be too happy to impart what I know to a willing student.” When Giles said ‘willing’ he gave Buffy a significant look, which she ignored. She pinched Spike under the blanket she’d insisted he still have around him. She was sure he’d only said what he had to make her look bad in front of Giles.

“Ok then, Spike isn’t any use at all in this.” Buffy pretended she didn’t hear his affronted ‘hey!’ “What else can we do?”

“What about Willow?” Spike kept his voice as neutral as possible, hoping they might make the connection on their own.

They didn’t.

Giles shook his head. “Willow is still such a novice. She has power of course, and I’m sure with time, with years of training behind her, she might have to ability to dissolve the sort of spell we’re facing. But we don’t have time.” Giles sighed. “The full moon is only three days away. If we don’t do something to stop it people will die, and some people may be turned. We could end up with many more werewolves to deal with.”

Buffy remembered Spikes vision and felt her confidence droop. “Oh.” There was a moments silence before she rallied her spirits and said brightly, “Well we’ll find a way. We always do.”

Giles and Anna gave Buffy a small smile, but Spike stayed silent. Dots were beginning to connect in his head, and he didn’t like the picture they were creating.


For a while they all talked through possible solutions.

Giles felt certain that his precious books would eventually reveal a spell which would help. Anna, who had felt the power of the magical shield, was certain they would not. After a while the two of them began to bicker in a good natured, if not flirty, way, which meant Buffy and Spike could talk among themselves.


Buffy watched Giles and Anna interact with narrowed eyes. “I don’t like it.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, “I know, all that tweed is a bit much.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. I don’t like them being all... like that. They’re too friendly. Much too friendly.”

Spike gave her an enquiring glance. “You jealous or somethin pet? Always wondered if you might have a thing for the watcher.”

“EW SPIKE! So not what I meant!” Buffy shook her head vigorously. “Ergh, that’s totally gross!”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Buffy sighed, “Well, I like Anna and all, she seems really nice, but she’s a demon. And Giles, well, isn’t.”

Spike chuckled, “Hate to break it to you kitten but I’m a demon, and you, well, aren’t.”

Buffy was taken aback. “That’s completely different.”

Spike leaned in closer, genuinely curious. “How?”

Buffy’s forehead wrinkled as she thought. She wasn’t really sure how to answer. “It just is. It’s you. And you don’t look like a demon, or act like one.”

Spike looked at Anna, with her softly worn face, dressed in her multilayered hippyish outfit, drinking tea out of a flowery china cup. “I see what you mean. She looks like a right baby eater doesn’t she?”

Buffy chose to ignore that. “But Giles is a watcher, from the Council of ‘people good, demons bad’. His teachings are the reason why I had a hard time with the whole... soul thing. How can he just forget all that with Anna? He’s acting like she’s... human.”

Spike picked up Buffy’s hand with his own, stopping her in her attempts the pull the comforter apart. He played with her fingers, softly caressing each one in such a way Buffy very nearly forgot what they were talking about.

“He’s treating her like a human because that’s how he sees her. She hasn’t given him reason not to, and it’s easy to see what you want to see. The world isn’t black or white slayer, it’s a thousand shades of contradiction. I think you see that now. And I think your watchers beginning to. Besides, a bit of rough and tumble would probably loosen him up. God knows the uptight bugger needs it.”

Buffy’s mouth gapped open. “Please don’t say things like that. You’re scarring me.”

Spike gave her a wicked grin, but decided the time was right to swing the conversation round to something else. Something which he thought was much more important. “So pet, where’s the gang today? Not that I’m missing the unfortunate comedy styling’s of the whelp, but I thought they would have been round by now.”

Buffy pulled her eyes away from where they had been horribly transfixed by the sight of Anna’s hand resting on Giles knee. She blinked a couple of times before giving Spike her full attention. “Well Xander’s had to put up with a lot of weepy Buffy this week, so I didn’t have the heart to ring him and tell him that more research may be required. I think he’s out with Cordelia somewhere.”

“And Red?” Nothing in Spikes voice betrayed anything but bare interest.

“She’s ill, caught whatever Oz had. It must be pretty bad cos she didn’t answer the phone yesterday when I called. She left a message late last night though saying she wasn’t feeling any better.”

“Do you wanna go round and see her? Make sure she’s alright? I can chaperone the hormonal adults for you.”

Buffy turned panicked eyes back on Giles and Anna, but it looked like they were still discussing work based stuff, having the kind of conversation which they seemed to find fascinating, but which would have bored Buffy to tears. Assured that they were not hormone bombs about to detonate on her mom’s upholstery Buffy answered, “Nah, she said in her message that the doctor thinks she’s contagious and she shouldn’t have visitors, and cos Oz already had it he’s round there looking after her.”

Spike didn’t make any further comment, but his mind was racing. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He had suspicions, plenty of them, but of what he suspected he was far from certain. He liked Willow, he really did, and he very rarely liked anyone. He had always thought she was full of goodness and he found it hard to entertain the notion that she could be working against them in any way.
But some things just wouldn’t add up. Or, rather, they did add up, just not in a way Spike liked. He was sure everything; the missing werewolf hair, the spell that blocked Anna’s ability, Willows sudden illness, was linked. Willow knew who the werewolf was, and she was protecting them for some reason. That was the only conclusion Spike could come to that would make any sense. But the who and the why was trickier to pin down.

Spike was thoughtful for a minute. Something suddenly occurred to him and he felt full of a deep and awful dread. “I haven’t seen Oz for a long time pet. Not since before the whole hell incident.”

Buffy frowned, “No, actually neither have I. I hadn’t noticed before, cos Oz, not really one for the talking or the drawing of attention. But that is weird. I guess he’s been busy with stuff. He did kinda only start hanging out with us because of Willow, If she’s not around he’d probably feel out of place, being with us without her. He did become a Scooby by default, maybe he doesn’t actually want to spend his nights hunting down the latest big bad in potentially deadly confrontations. Some people are weird like that.”

Spike smile was strained. He wanted to talk to Red, soon.

The thought of sharing what he felt with Buffy, of potentially causing a rift among the scoobies when he had nothing to back his suspicions up but gut feeling was not appealing. If Willow was involved in this, and there was still a possibility that she wasn’t, then the fact that she had not come to Buffy, or Giles, for help did not bode well. Spike had made it clear that he knew of werewolves who were good, who could live in peace with their surroundings. But Willow had not come to him for advice either. The werewolf they were after had killed at least three times, and it would probably kill again if it wasn’t stopped, if the danger wasn’t contained. Would Willow really let that happen? Did her loyalties not lie with Buffy?

Buffy had already faced so many tests, so many moments where her calling was pitted against her feelings. Spike couldn’t let her go through that again, not until he was sure it was the only way. Spike cursed his healing body. He had to talk to Willow.



The morning gave way to afternoon. Anna said she planned to stay on a while, at least until the full moon was passed. She might not be able to track down the werewolf for them, but she was a good and experienced fighter, and she promised to help them in any way she could.

She mentioned something about finding a hotel, but Giles, with much stuttering and blushing (which Buffy would have found adorable on any one but Giles) offered her his spare room for the duration of her visit.

Anna accepted with embarrassed pleasure, and after deciding to call the roundabout strategy discussions to an end the two of them left together.

Joyce came back downstairs almost immediately after, and readily agreed to Spike staying as long as he needed too.

She cooked them some dinner, and they passed a pleasant evening in front of the tv. Or at least it would have been pleasant if Buffy, for her mother’s sake, wasn’t sat on the opposite side of the room to Spike. The urge to touch him, to feel his cool body beside hers, made Buffy feel antsy and restless. From the amount of times Spikes eyes were on her, and the heat she felt in them, Buffy guessed he was feeling the same.


It wasn’t until quite a lot later that they got to indulge in their desire for closeness.

As he couldn’t yet manage the stairs Spike was on the couch again, and Buffy was showing no signs of leaving him. Joyce made several pointed hints that everyone would benefit from a good night’s sleep. After realising that neither that, or overly expressive yawning, was encouraging Buffy to go upstairs to her own room Joyce settled for giving her two charges a warning ‘behave’ stare and went to bed herself.

Buffy immediately launched herself on Spike, tempering her enthusiasm slightly so she didn’t hurt him. He snuggled into her delightedly, purring when he inhaled her unholy scent.

Buffy giggled. “You purred! You totally purred! Like a little kitten!”

Spike growled, “No, like a manly tiger slayer. And I purr when I’m happy, can’t help it.”

Buffy fingered the scar above his eyebrow and he purred again, “See? It’s completely against my will.”

Her voice was suddenly breathless, “So you’re happy now?”

Spike grazed his lips against hers, dragging them back and forth excruciatingly slowly, “How can you even ask that?”

Then he was attacking her mouth with tender ferocity and Buffy found herself purring too.

Spike’s tongue found its way to Buffy’s neck. He ran it across her heated skin, nipping and biting and sucking until she had hold in the rising volume of her gasps.

Buffy knotted her hands in his hair, pulled him closer, tighter to her. She was drowning in him. She felt what he was feeling, the pleasure, the desire. The want and the need. She felt it all, returned it in full force. But despite the mushy state of her brain Buffy was also aware of Spikes injuries, the pain he must still be in but was ignoring for her pleasure. She wanted to help him again, wanted to help him heal. But more than that, she needed the feeling of having him inside her again, the thrill of the connection.

“Spike... Spike, bite me. Please... please don’t argue.”

He didn’t. In her voice he heard her desperation, her longing. It mirrored his own. He wouldn’t take much... he wouldn’t weaken her in any way... but just a little... just a taste... “Buffy...” He groaned and shifted, plunging his fangs deep, deep into her.
B
uffy had buried her face into Spikes shoulder and had to bite him in turn to muffle her scream. Pleasure, unrivalled, unchecked, swarmed through her as Spike drank, pulled her essence and her being into him.

As with the first time her orgasm was upon her so suddenly, so powerfully, blinding her with its force.

Spike withdrew his fangs, sealed the wound quickly before repossessing her mouth, swallowing her whimpers. She could taste her own blood in his mouth, and mingled with the distinct flavour of him it was a heady combination.

Together they rode out the waves of her pleasure, his pleasure. Their pleasure.




It was hours later but Buffy hadn’t even thought of going to bed. A bed without Spike in it seemed like an incredibly pointless invention, and she was enjoying talking and laughing and touching far too much to stop.
She had thought of making hot chocolate though. She was about done when she heard Spike singsong from the lounge.
“Slay-er, my glass is empt-y, and I’m thirst-y”

Buffy mock sighed and headed out of the kitchen with her hot chocolate and the heavily dented bottle of ‘get well’ scotch Giles had brought over.

Spike was lying on the couch, the blankets pulled up to his chin, an excited smile on his face and his glass swinging about from his outstretched hand.

Buffy glared. “I think I actually preferred you unconscious. And, I don’t think you should have any more of this stuff. I know you said its medicinal or whatever, but seriously, a whole bottle? That can’t be of the good.”

Spike pouted and tried to look as upset as possible, dropping his glass holding arm onto his chest morosely.

Buffy rolled her eyes, smiled despite herself and put on a very bad, very fake British accent. “Here you are sir, terribly sorry for the delay. A glass of her majesties finest for you.” She curtsied with flourish, before pouring him a small drink and carefully seating herself beside him.

Spike grinned again, “If I’d known all I had to do was get mortally wounded for you to like me again, not to mention getting you to pretend to be Australian, I would’ve pissed off a Horace demon the minute we got off the phone that night. There would have been a lot more slimy foam involved but it would have been a lot bloody quicker”

Buffy punched him on the arm, “Don’t even joke about it. And you so know I was being British. Don’t even pretend my accent wasn’t awesome.”

Spike gave an exaggerated wince and made a big show of rubbing his arm where Buffy had hit it. Buffy was up and fussing at once. Her blood had given him another good healing boost and she often forgot she still couldn’t be as... physical... with him as she wanted.

“God I’m so sorry! Did that hurt? Are you ok? Can I get you something?”

Then she caught the wicked gleam in Spikes eyes and her own narrowed. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

Spikes grin grew even broader. “I’m tucked up on a couch with as much Passions and Buffalo wings as a bloke could want, and a sexy slayer at my beck and call, what’s not to like?”

Buffy’s lips quirked a little but she tried to stay stern. “You almost died Spike, I certainly don’t like that, and it’s not funny.”

Spike grabbed Buffy’s hands and pulled her back onto the couch with him.

“Sorry pet. I won’t make any more jokes, scouts honour.”

Buffy smiled, “Good. And I guess there is something good to come out of you being injured.”

“What’s that then luv? The fact you can take advantage of me and I’m powerless to stop you?”

Buffy stayed serious, “No, the fact that you’ll be safe inside getting better during the full moon, and I won’t have to physically restrain you to make you stay put. There’s no way a werewolf’s coming near you ever again. Not while I’m around.”

Spike felt a stab of guilt flash through him. According to Anna he would still be as good as useless when the full moon came. If Buffy faced the werewolf, as it was becoming increasingly likely she would have to, it would be her, and her alone. He wouldn’t let her focus be split, worrying about him, if he went to fight beside her and his body let him down.
She was the most capable, adaptable and instinctive slayer he had ever known, but the thought of his vision haunted him. Buffy would not be harmed, Spike would make sure of that. Whatever else happened Buffy would be ok. But she needed the facts, and in the absence of facts even his hunches would be better than nothing.
Spike had tried, sneakily, to ring Willow while Buffy had been fetching him more food. There had been no answer. He’d left her a message on her answer phone, vague enough that if someone else heard it they wouldn’t know what he was talking about, and yet specific enough that Willow would; “Red it’s me. Spike. I’m back. Brought Anna with me like I said I would. It turns out she’s not gonna be able to help us like we hoped, but I think you might be. Buffy said you were under the weather, hope you’re feelin better now, cos I could really do with havin a chat with you. Reckon you probably know what about. It’s almost crunch time Red, almost bloody D-Day. Need answers, and I’m gonna have to talk to Buffy in the end, with or without them. Won’t let her get hurt. Not Buffy. And I know you wouldn’t want her to get hurt either.”


Willow hadn’t called back. Confronting her in person was looking like the only option, and out of the two of them Buffy was the one in a position to physically do that.

Spike was trying to figure out how best to start the conversation. It was difficult to focus on anything serious with Buffy being all gorgeous and near him and smelling so damn good, but he tried.


In the end though, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t figured out how exactly to phrase his thoughts.




In another house, not far away, a red headed witch said the final words of a desperate spell. Her eyes were blackened and bloodshot, her skin deathly pale and strained. Her nose began to bleed from the effort of the casting. Twice in a week she’d had to cast a spell far outside her capabilities, and the toll it was taking on her body was almost too much. But she wouldn’t stop, not now. Not with the threat of an answering machine message ringing in her ears.
She would protect the one she loved. She would. No matter what the cost. Her love sat beside her, pain etched on his every feature. He wanted to stop her, he had tried, but she wouldn’t let him. They were doing this her way, and after all she had done for him he couldn’t argue with her. He could only hope that it would all work out, in the end.

Her voice was harsh, so unlike her own, as she chanted the final words into the suddenly cold air.

“Tabula rasa, Tabula rasa”

The crystal she clutched tightly in her hand slowly turned a deathly black.




Buffy smiled to herself as she watched Spike suddenly, almost dramatically, fall asleep. He must have been hiding his fatigue from her. Deciding against waking him from a slumber clearly as deep as it was sudden Buffy snuggled into his side. If her mom came downstairs before she’d woken and snuck up to her room she’d just have to deal with it. She couldn’t leave Spike.


As she drifted off to sleep, curled into the crook of his arm, she had no idea that Spike’s unconsciousness had nothing to do with being tired.




Chapter End Notes:
A massive hug to everyone who had read, and everyone who has reviewed. Sorry I havent responded to them yet, but I will!



You must login (register) to review.