Disclaimer: Could these characters be any less mine?
Concrit/Feedback: Hey--how you doin'?
Notes/Spoilers/Warnings: Set Post-NFA.
Summary: A drabble written for the spander132 moodring prompt: grateful.
The new Council goes the way of the old.
Sooner than even Spike expects--there’s only the two of them left.
Just like last time.
He supposes it’s only natural they turn to each other for comfort.
Yeah . . . comfort, he thinks with cold self-disgust. At the same time, he can’t refuse what’s offered: light, warmth, love--him.
As the months and years pass, the pretense gets better and better. He never catches even a hint of blue in the deep, dark eye, or thick, silken hair.
The babble is flawless and in time, Spike even starts calling her Xander.