-This story is directly related to a series I am writing. If you went in order you would have to read Admittance, The Dalliance of the Eagles, and Carpe Diem, before ever touching this story. The catch is, I don't believe in putting such boundaries on a person and what they want to read, so you can read this story as a standalone, if you wish. All you need to know is, Spike is an integrated part of the Angel Investigations family (he never died, in my story) and it is suddenly coming more clear that, since there is another vampire with a soul, Angel is not the only one in line for the shan-shu. (Oh, yeah! Connor is still around and Cordelia hasn't been in a coma, for a long while.) This is the deranged musings of an upset sire. Enjoy!-
I don't own BTVS or AtS. I don't own the characters in this story. I just like to play with them, because it satisfies my hunger for everything and anything Joss. No, I am not comparing myself to Joss Whedon. I'm not *that* egotistical. Anyway, as you probably already know, this is the time where I say...
On with the show.
::Friends of NIMH- The Past and Pending::
Spike isn't talking to me again, which, in all actuality, doesn't make a bit of difference, since I'm not talking to him either. I've thought about the situation, extensively, and I have decided that if Spike were a woman, he would be a complete and utter bitch. I discussed my theory with Connor and Wesley. They both exchanged glances and shrugged. It's really starting to piss me off that they always seem to take his side, in matters. It's not that I don't want them to like Spike. He's my childe and I want him to be liked... I just don't want him to be liked more than me. I know that it sounds like I'm jealous, but I'm not. The truth of the matter is, I'm just being logical.
Okay, if you dissect me and Spike... not literally, of course... you will find that I have been soul-filled a *lot* longer than Spike has. Even when people found out I was soulful, they still had a hard time getting used to me, let alone liking me. Now, Spike, on the other hand, has had his soul all of six months, at the most, and people 'magically' feel inclined to agree with his point of view, on every matter. It's a mystery to me, why anyone would ever even consider his point of view, since it is always irrational and self-serving. This just leads me to the conclusion that humans, in general, whether they are ex-prom queens or green with horns, are an irrational and self-serving lot of people and that is why they relate to Spike, better than with me. Now, I'm sounding self-righteous, which I am not. Although, I don't tend to be the irrational sort, I can be pretty self-serving, as long as it serves my purpose. Okay, *now* I sound irrational.
Spike has me all jumbled up. The other day, we got into an argument over the smallest of things. Okay, to me, it was more of a big deal, than I think it was for him. When I have nothing else to occupy my time, I draw. I mean, if I am destined to be an immortal, for an indeterminate amount of time, it's only right that I have a hobby to keep me busy. Just so you know, I draw from the experiences I have undergone. I don't draw white knights fighting evil dragons, or unicorns and the virgin princess that attracted them. Fairies, imps, and leprechauns, aren't things that I pretend to comprehend, let alone sketch. I draw realistic things. I draw people that I love, and vampires that I love and/or tolerate. I've said all of this to introduce the argument that now has my childe and me at odds with one another.
A couple of weeks ago, I found myself pondering... not brooding, because I try to steer away from brooding, as of late... and as I pondered, I got the notion that I should sketch the members of my 'family'. I started at the beginning and sketched Darla in a full flowing dress. After I had put the finishing touches on her baubles and bows, I went on and drew the only smiling imp that I could draw with my eyes closed. It took a total of two hours, but I finally produced a beautiful portrait of Drusilla in a simple baby doll dress, hugging Miss Edith, against her side. When Dru's eyes sparkled and her lips quirked, just so, I decided to embark on the difficult task of drawing my wayward childe, Penn. I was indecisive on what period I should sketch him from. In my more recent memories of him, he had a distant, pained look that I didn't want to reproduce, but in the first days, after I sired him, there was this lunacy that I couldn't possibly put on paper. I decided to draw him from an image that my mind's eye produced. It's a picture of him in a 1920's style suit, wearing a fedora, and grinning over the scantily clad women and their beaded dresses. After I had the picture perfected, down to the last pin stripe, I decided that there was only one family member that I had been neglecting.
Spike's portrait was the hardest to come by. I've always had a difficult time getting his cheekbones to match up. Plus, his ears look like they belong to some poor, little elfin creature out there. He has a scar on his eyebrow, which in all actuality looks like he was just born with it, but for some reason on paper it just looks like the mistake of the artist. Every time I have ever drawn Spike, his hair has been styled differently. One picture that I have never attempted, until recently, was with his hair down to his shoulders, out of the little ponytail that style forced gentlemen, in the late 1800's, to wear. When William would wake up in the afternoon, he would run a hand through his hair and let it lay in a riot, until Darla would fuss at him and Dru would coo.
This all became subject of a picture I decided to draw, only a few weeks ago. After the portrait was finished, I decided that Spike must never see it, so I hid it somewhere that Spike would never look. It found a home in my pant pocket, where it stayed for many days. Of course, it never occurred to me that my childe would have no qualms with reaching in my pocket and grabbing for my car keys, instead of asking like any normal person. He yanked out the keys, and with it came a neatly folded piece of paper that he just had to pick up and open. The picture then became his possession, for it was just 'too beautiful' to give back. I took this as a compliment for all of two seconds and then became defensive. I had worked on the portrait for three and a half hours. It wasn't beautiful. It was Spike! It picture's grin didn't resemble Spike's mischievous grin; it had his mischievous grin. The leer was all his and those damned cheekbones were perfect. Although, I will admit that I drew the picture with long hair so that I wouldn't have to try making his ears, I would say that everything else was purely William.
I'm almost positive that is the reason Spike took the picture. I don't think it had anything to do with vanity or just pissing me off. I believe Spike, although he says that he resents ever being William, still feels a little bit of William inside of him. There is only one thing I can say about that. He needs to snap out of it! If he starts writing poetry and mooning over schoolgirls, I'll personally take my title as sire into affect and beat it out of him. He's Spike, the one constant among us all, and I'm going to go half-crazy if he decides to like the ballet and throws out those ugly Doc Marten's, of his. Spike has the right to reinvent himself, just like any other person does, but he doesn't have the right to 'uninvent' himself. I met William and I loved William, and although Dru was the one to kill him physically, William killed himself spiritually and became a whole new being. He became Spike, and even though it pains me to admit it, I grew to love Spike, as well.
The problem with the picture that I drew of Spike is that it was drawn with an open heart and Spike could see every thing, just as if I had written it down in one of those silly thought bubbles, over to the side. Spike now knows that there is nothing he could say or do that would make me kill him. He could lose his soul, make Cordelia his sex slave, and decided to become the totalitarian leader of Ireland, and I would not be able to stake him myself. Yes, I would most likely get somebody else to do it for me; because killing your childe is like killing an important piece of yourself and there is nothing you can do to take it back. In most cases, once a vampire is dust... they are dust. In a few off cases, vampires have been brought back as humans, but as a whole, vampires usually just 'die' and go to their eternity. Well, as far as I know.
All right. Now we are getting to the part of my story where Spike and I butted heads. I wanted Spike to give me my picture back because A) it is *my* picture and B) it's not *his* picture. Although, I tried to explain this in a logical, well thought out manner, with Spike, he still refused to give it back to me. Instead he called me a 'bloody pouf' and ran down the hallway, like a shot. He figured that if he could integrate us into the group of people standing around the lobby that I would suddenly change my mind and decided that I don't want the picture, as badly as I once thought I did. He was wrong, of course.
I chased him through the lobby and we about trampled Lorne. After I practically had him pinned to a wall, he struck out and knocked the air out of me. I know that sounds impossible, seeing as how I don't have to breathe, but as a force of habit, I breathe anyway. Spike knows this and decided to use it to his advantage. I was knocked backward and I rolled into a crouch. Next thing I know, Spike is trying to make it into my office so that he can lock himself inside and away from my fury. Of course, I have always been faster than him, so this was pointless. I dived at his legs and knocked him through the doorway. In his desperation to get away, he kicked the door shut and we were once again, left to our own devices.
Now, the fight itself is unimportant. In the end, he was minus a shirt and a picture. Both of which, made him pout, horribly. Yes, the boy started pouting. Connor doesn't even pout. The pouting was not the worse thing, though. Spike, as a sign of apology, made me take him to Wal-Mart, so that he could buy more t-shirts. Now, I don't know if you know what type of people hang out at Wal-Mart at two o'clock in the morning, but let me tell you, they are interesting characters. Most of which, are shopping in the hunting section and don't take kindly to pale men in silk shirts. I just tried to avert my eyes and rush Spike through his shopping.
Now, while we were mindlessly walking the aisles of Wal-Mart, Spike decided to bring up a slightly touchy subject. He asked me why the prophecies, so far, have failed to mention him. I had no answer for that, so I just shrugged. Then, he turned quiet, for a while, and then commented that maybe the prophecies did mention him and we were just looking over it. He said that when the prophecies talked about a souled vampire, they weren't very specific and it was possibly him. I asked him if he wanted it to be him and he just shrugged and said he didn't necessarily, but he really didn't like being overlooked. Well, that was a purely Spike thing to say. Only Spike would worry about being overlooked by the Powers That Be. Even I, sometimes, wish they had just skipped over my résumé and gone to the next poor jerk, who came along with a score that needed settling.
Anyway, after a few minutes of silence, between the two of us, I figured the topic was closed and I decided to bring up a small worry that has been plaguing me. I brought up the fact that he hasn't been feeding as well as he ought to. Again, he just shrugged. Now, I'm not one to needle a person about there self-destructive habits, because the gods know that I've had a few of my own. In this case, everything is different. The 'person' with the self-destructive habit happens to be my childe and I wanted to know why he had developed this habit, in the first place. So I asked him. He just muttered something about the blood not tasting right. I told him that he had been drinking cow's blood long enough to have gotten used to it. He just shook his head and sighed.
Well, that answer could have led me to many different conclusions. First off, Spike could be ill. I mean... it is not completely unheard of that vampires get sick. I've had headaches that defy all laws of physics, seeing as how I'm dead and all. Okay, in case that theory is utter crap, I move on to theory number two. It is possible that Spike is just getting a little homesick for Sunnydale. Yeah, I know... Ha, ha, funny. It *is* possible that he misses his friends, though. I know he left Sunnydale in a pretty big hurry, but he still developed friendships and ties there that would be worth missing. If this theory is correct, then it leads us to the conclusion that Spike is actually depressed.
In my opinion, Spike really has no reason to be depressed. First and foremost of these reasons, it is obvious that everyone here loves him. Cordelia and Fred dote on Spike, constantly. They are always trying to make him some snacks and rent new movies to watch, with their new bestest guy friend. Ahem... On another note, Spike shouldn't even have time to realize that he is upset. Between the different jobs that Gunn, Connor, Spike, and I have been working on, the girly sleepover parties that he has an open invitation to, and his afternoon arguments... err... discussions with Wesley and/or Lorne, he only has time to sleep and eat. Both of which, he doesn't do enough of!
I know it sounds like I'm mother hen-ing Spike and maybe I am. I just don't like it when he takes his health into his own hands and then completely overlooks it. If he doesn't want to stay healthy for himself, he should take Connor into consideration. They fight at each other's backs, half of the time. If Spike is cast aside like a limpet, Connor's back will be wide open. Yes, most likely I will be right there to make it all right, but what if I am not. Spike will be the cause of my son getting hurt.
So, although I haven't said it in so many words, I am worried about Spike. He's acting strange, as I have said. This strange behavior raises a question that nobody really wants to ask out loud, because they are scared that I may turn violent over it. The question is, 'What if Spike *is* the souled vampire who will work toward redemption and obtain his manhood?' Well, I have one thing to say to that. He's not.
It's obvious that Spike doesn't want redemption, for one thing, and it's more than obvious that he doesn't ever want to be human, again. He doesn't have a reason or a purpose to becoming human. He doesn't want a second chance. He doesn't want to reclaim his life that was stolen from him. He isn't looking for acceptance from a world that denies his worth. Spike's philosophy is 'screw the world'. So, why would he be looking for the world's approval?
So, yes, I'll admit that I've obsessed over these things a little too long. It has almost gotten to the point that it sounds like I'm trying to convince myself that Spike isn't depressed and that he isn't going to steal the one thing I've been working toward, for the last few years. The thoughts have swirled around in my head, until they have turned into a twisted mass of craziness. It's just that I have nothing else to do to occupy my time, at the moment. I would usually have loads of stuff to do, to take my mind off of all of this, but see the problem is... Spike's not talking to me.
The End of Angel's Brood-athon.
-So, yes... I did traveled back inside Angel's head. It was necessary to do after all the crap I've put the boy's through. *sigh* I don't think it is truly necessary to tell you how hard it is for me to write 1st person point of view, but I'll tell you anyway. It's pretty freakin' hard. Hehe... Anyway, please tell me what you think. I'm probably going to write a Spike point of view and possibly venture into Connor's mind, also. I may not, though. It is truly up to you... the audience. I love you all!-
--Hey, if you know why I named the story Friends of NIMH and I'll give you a cookie. The subtitle was The Past and Pending, which is a great song by The Shins.--
I don't own BTVS or AtS. I don't own the characters in this story. I just like to play with them, because it satisfies my hunger for everything and anything Joss. No, I am not comparing myself to Joss Whedon. I'm not *that* egotistical. Anyway, as you probably already know, this is the time where I say...
On with the show.
::Friends of NIMH- The Past and Pending::
Spike isn't talking to me again, which, in all actuality, doesn't make a bit of difference, since I'm not talking to him either. I've thought about the situation, extensively, and I have decided that if Spike were a woman, he would be a complete and utter bitch. I discussed my theory with Connor and Wesley. They both exchanged glances and shrugged. It's really starting to piss me off that they always seem to take his side, in matters. It's not that I don't want them to like Spike. He's my childe and I want him to be liked... I just don't want him to be liked more than me. I know that it sounds like I'm jealous, but I'm not. The truth of the matter is, I'm just being logical.
Okay, if you dissect me and Spike... not literally, of course... you will find that I have been soul-filled a *lot* longer than Spike has. Even when people found out I was soulful, they still had a hard time getting used to me, let alone liking me. Now, Spike, on the other hand, has had his soul all of six months, at the most, and people 'magically' feel inclined to agree with his point of view, on every matter. It's a mystery to me, why anyone would ever even consider his point of view, since it is always irrational and self-serving. This just leads me to the conclusion that humans, in general, whether they are ex-prom queens or green with horns, are an irrational and self-serving lot of people and that is why they relate to Spike, better than with me. Now, I'm sounding self-righteous, which I am not. Although, I don't tend to be the irrational sort, I can be pretty self-serving, as long as it serves my purpose. Okay, *now* I sound irrational.
Spike has me all jumbled up. The other day, we got into an argument over the smallest of things. Okay, to me, it was more of a big deal, than I think it was for him. When I have nothing else to occupy my time, I draw. I mean, if I am destined to be an immortal, for an indeterminate amount of time, it's only right that I have a hobby to keep me busy. Just so you know, I draw from the experiences I have undergone. I don't draw white knights fighting evil dragons, or unicorns and the virgin princess that attracted them. Fairies, imps, and leprechauns, aren't things that I pretend to comprehend, let alone sketch. I draw realistic things. I draw people that I love, and vampires that I love and/or tolerate. I've said all of this to introduce the argument that now has my childe and me at odds with one another.
A couple of weeks ago, I found myself pondering... not brooding, because I try to steer away from brooding, as of late... and as I pondered, I got the notion that I should sketch the members of my 'family'. I started at the beginning and sketched Darla in a full flowing dress. After I had put the finishing touches on her baubles and bows, I went on and drew the only smiling imp that I could draw with my eyes closed. It took a total of two hours, but I finally produced a beautiful portrait of Drusilla in a simple baby doll dress, hugging Miss Edith, against her side. When Dru's eyes sparkled and her lips quirked, just so, I decided to embark on the difficult task of drawing my wayward childe, Penn. I was indecisive on what period I should sketch him from. In my more recent memories of him, he had a distant, pained look that I didn't want to reproduce, but in the first days, after I sired him, there was this lunacy that I couldn't possibly put on paper. I decided to draw him from an image that my mind's eye produced. It's a picture of him in a 1920's style suit, wearing a fedora, and grinning over the scantily clad women and their beaded dresses. After I had the picture perfected, down to the last pin stripe, I decided that there was only one family member that I had been neglecting.
Spike's portrait was the hardest to come by. I've always had a difficult time getting his cheekbones to match up. Plus, his ears look like they belong to some poor, little elfin creature out there. He has a scar on his eyebrow, which in all actuality looks like he was just born with it, but for some reason on paper it just looks like the mistake of the artist. Every time I have ever drawn Spike, his hair has been styled differently. One picture that I have never attempted, until recently, was with his hair down to his shoulders, out of the little ponytail that style forced gentlemen, in the late 1800's, to wear. When William would wake up in the afternoon, he would run a hand through his hair and let it lay in a riot, until Darla would fuss at him and Dru would coo.
This all became subject of a picture I decided to draw, only a few weeks ago. After the portrait was finished, I decided that Spike must never see it, so I hid it somewhere that Spike would never look. It found a home in my pant pocket, where it stayed for many days. Of course, it never occurred to me that my childe would have no qualms with reaching in my pocket and grabbing for my car keys, instead of asking like any normal person. He yanked out the keys, and with it came a neatly folded piece of paper that he just had to pick up and open. The picture then became his possession, for it was just 'too beautiful' to give back. I took this as a compliment for all of two seconds and then became defensive. I had worked on the portrait for three and a half hours. It wasn't beautiful. It was Spike! It picture's grin didn't resemble Spike's mischievous grin; it had his mischievous grin. The leer was all his and those damned cheekbones were perfect. Although, I will admit that I drew the picture with long hair so that I wouldn't have to try making his ears, I would say that everything else was purely William.
I'm almost positive that is the reason Spike took the picture. I don't think it had anything to do with vanity or just pissing me off. I believe Spike, although he says that he resents ever being William, still feels a little bit of William inside of him. There is only one thing I can say about that. He needs to snap out of it! If he starts writing poetry and mooning over schoolgirls, I'll personally take my title as sire into affect and beat it out of him. He's Spike, the one constant among us all, and I'm going to go half-crazy if he decides to like the ballet and throws out those ugly Doc Marten's, of his. Spike has the right to reinvent himself, just like any other person does, but he doesn't have the right to 'uninvent' himself. I met William and I loved William, and although Dru was the one to kill him physically, William killed himself spiritually and became a whole new being. He became Spike, and even though it pains me to admit it, I grew to love Spike, as well.
The problem with the picture that I drew of Spike is that it was drawn with an open heart and Spike could see every thing, just as if I had written it down in one of those silly thought bubbles, over to the side. Spike now knows that there is nothing he could say or do that would make me kill him. He could lose his soul, make Cordelia his sex slave, and decided to become the totalitarian leader of Ireland, and I would not be able to stake him myself. Yes, I would most likely get somebody else to do it for me; because killing your childe is like killing an important piece of yourself and there is nothing you can do to take it back. In most cases, once a vampire is dust... they are dust. In a few off cases, vampires have been brought back as humans, but as a whole, vampires usually just 'die' and go to their eternity. Well, as far as I know.
All right. Now we are getting to the part of my story where Spike and I butted heads. I wanted Spike to give me my picture back because A) it is *my* picture and B) it's not *his* picture. Although, I tried to explain this in a logical, well thought out manner, with Spike, he still refused to give it back to me. Instead he called me a 'bloody pouf' and ran down the hallway, like a shot. He figured that if he could integrate us into the group of people standing around the lobby that I would suddenly change my mind and decided that I don't want the picture, as badly as I once thought I did. He was wrong, of course.
I chased him through the lobby and we about trampled Lorne. After I practically had him pinned to a wall, he struck out and knocked the air out of me. I know that sounds impossible, seeing as how I don't have to breathe, but as a force of habit, I breathe anyway. Spike knows this and decided to use it to his advantage. I was knocked backward and I rolled into a crouch. Next thing I know, Spike is trying to make it into my office so that he can lock himself inside and away from my fury. Of course, I have always been faster than him, so this was pointless. I dived at his legs and knocked him through the doorway. In his desperation to get away, he kicked the door shut and we were once again, left to our own devices.
Now, the fight itself is unimportant. In the end, he was minus a shirt and a picture. Both of which, made him pout, horribly. Yes, the boy started pouting. Connor doesn't even pout. The pouting was not the worse thing, though. Spike, as a sign of apology, made me take him to Wal-Mart, so that he could buy more t-shirts. Now, I don't know if you know what type of people hang out at Wal-Mart at two o'clock in the morning, but let me tell you, they are interesting characters. Most of which, are shopping in the hunting section and don't take kindly to pale men in silk shirts. I just tried to avert my eyes and rush Spike through his shopping.
Now, while we were mindlessly walking the aisles of Wal-Mart, Spike decided to bring up a slightly touchy subject. He asked me why the prophecies, so far, have failed to mention him. I had no answer for that, so I just shrugged. Then, he turned quiet, for a while, and then commented that maybe the prophecies did mention him and we were just looking over it. He said that when the prophecies talked about a souled vampire, they weren't very specific and it was possibly him. I asked him if he wanted it to be him and he just shrugged and said he didn't necessarily, but he really didn't like being overlooked. Well, that was a purely Spike thing to say. Only Spike would worry about being overlooked by the Powers That Be. Even I, sometimes, wish they had just skipped over my résumé and gone to the next poor jerk, who came along with a score that needed settling.
Anyway, after a few minutes of silence, between the two of us, I figured the topic was closed and I decided to bring up a small worry that has been plaguing me. I brought up the fact that he hasn't been feeding as well as he ought to. Again, he just shrugged. Now, I'm not one to needle a person about there self-destructive habits, because the gods know that I've had a few of my own. In this case, everything is different. The 'person' with the self-destructive habit happens to be my childe and I wanted to know why he had developed this habit, in the first place. So I asked him. He just muttered something about the blood not tasting right. I told him that he had been drinking cow's blood long enough to have gotten used to it. He just shook his head and sighed.
Well, that answer could have led me to many different conclusions. First off, Spike could be ill. I mean... it is not completely unheard of that vampires get sick. I've had headaches that defy all laws of physics, seeing as how I'm dead and all. Okay, in case that theory is utter crap, I move on to theory number two. It is possible that Spike is just getting a little homesick for Sunnydale. Yeah, I know... Ha, ha, funny. It *is* possible that he misses his friends, though. I know he left Sunnydale in a pretty big hurry, but he still developed friendships and ties there that would be worth missing. If this theory is correct, then it leads us to the conclusion that Spike is actually depressed.
In my opinion, Spike really has no reason to be depressed. First and foremost of these reasons, it is obvious that everyone here loves him. Cordelia and Fred dote on Spike, constantly. They are always trying to make him some snacks and rent new movies to watch, with their new bestest guy friend. Ahem... On another note, Spike shouldn't even have time to realize that he is upset. Between the different jobs that Gunn, Connor, Spike, and I have been working on, the girly sleepover parties that he has an open invitation to, and his afternoon arguments... err... discussions with Wesley and/or Lorne, he only has time to sleep and eat. Both of which, he doesn't do enough of!
I know it sounds like I'm mother hen-ing Spike and maybe I am. I just don't like it when he takes his health into his own hands and then completely overlooks it. If he doesn't want to stay healthy for himself, he should take Connor into consideration. They fight at each other's backs, half of the time. If Spike is cast aside like a limpet, Connor's back will be wide open. Yes, most likely I will be right there to make it all right, but what if I am not. Spike will be the cause of my son getting hurt.
So, although I haven't said it in so many words, I am worried about Spike. He's acting strange, as I have said. This strange behavior raises a question that nobody really wants to ask out loud, because they are scared that I may turn violent over it. The question is, 'What if Spike *is* the souled vampire who will work toward redemption and obtain his manhood?' Well, I have one thing to say to that. He's not.
It's obvious that Spike doesn't want redemption, for one thing, and it's more than obvious that he doesn't ever want to be human, again. He doesn't have a reason or a purpose to becoming human. He doesn't want a second chance. He doesn't want to reclaim his life that was stolen from him. He isn't looking for acceptance from a world that denies his worth. Spike's philosophy is 'screw the world'. So, why would he be looking for the world's approval?
So, yes, I'll admit that I've obsessed over these things a little too long. It has almost gotten to the point that it sounds like I'm trying to convince myself that Spike isn't depressed and that he isn't going to steal the one thing I've been working toward, for the last few years. The thoughts have swirled around in my head, until they have turned into a twisted mass of craziness. It's just that I have nothing else to do to occupy my time, at the moment. I would usually have loads of stuff to do, to take my mind off of all of this, but see the problem is... Spike's not talking to me.
The End of Angel's Brood-athon.
-So, yes... I did traveled back inside Angel's head. It was necessary to do after all the crap I've put the boy's through. *sigh* I don't think it is truly necessary to tell you how hard it is for me to write 1st person point of view, but I'll tell you anyway. It's pretty freakin' hard. Hehe... Anyway, please tell me what you think. I'm probably going to write a Spike point of view and possibly venture into Connor's mind, also. I may not, though. It is truly up to you... the audience. I love you all!-
--Hey, if you know why I named the story Friends of NIMH and I'll give you a cookie. The subtitle was The Past and Pending, which is a great song by The Shins.--
