It started when they met at the wedding that never was. She saw past his façade dressed in black punk cloths. He saw past her crooked shy smile.
They both saw the hurt that lay open and bleeding beneath the surface.
Each giving a small nod and halfhearted smile, it made the pain go away but only for a moment.
Few weeks later she ran into him when he was on a run for more of that brown liquid he clung to like a blanket. Without words they walked in stride towards his crypt
They fell into a routine after that night. At sunset she would come to him with a book and a smile. She found out early on that they shared something very private in common; a love of Shakespeare.
The time they spent together was platonic. A hug here, a kiss on the cheek there. Some nights even sleeping in the same bed to keep from sleeping alone and feeling hollow. Spike even went so far as to keep on top of the covers while he made sure she was warm under them.
Time went on, it became more then solace, it became a need. Each afraid to tell the other that in all of the comforting they had deeper feelings then before.
Both too afraid to open up and allow the waves take them over and into each other.
More afraid to tell the friends they held near and dear that they were in love.
It was an accident…wasn't it…