Title: Just not done.
There are some things that just aren’t done; roaming the streets on Halloween was one of them. Not that he’d ever cared that much about what was done and what wasn’t, but Halloween was just plain tacky and any vampire with even the slightest modicum of self-respect would be nice and cosy in their lair tonight.
“Spike are you going to get ready?” Dawn whined, large, pleading blue-eyes employed masterfully.
Simultaneously shifting into gameface and pouting Spike led his charge out the door. “Your sis is evil, you know that, Slayer?” he grumbled over his shoulder as Buffy waved goodbye.
A little pressie for you...
Room With a View
From the attic window she'd watched him walk uncertainly towards the house, the small bouquet clutched against his chest.
Moments later she'd wanted to scream when his good intentions were thrown to the ground, his highly-expressive face filling with the grief, pain and anger that echoed the emotions swirling sickeningly in her stomach.
As he’d turned and stormed furiously into the night she’d almost called out to him—nearly flown down the stairs to throw herself into her friend's arms, hide in the warm, safe scent of smoke and leather and purge the tears that she so far had denied.