The Way We Were... "by Dukester"

Lose yourself in a world where the monsters you dreaded as a child were more than make-believe, but a sinister part of reality.
Where your nights of slumber are constantly plagued by the thought that you will never live to see the next day.
Where the only thing scarier than what's beneath your bed is what's lurking in the corner of your room.

Welcome to the Hellmouth.

Note: The story is initially set between "Wrecked" and "Gone".

Chapter 1

PART I "The Scent Of Strawberries"

A customary autumn breeze grazed the suave vampire's pitch black trenchcoat as he strolled through the streets of Sunnydale, California. Once the sun sets in the city located in the heart of the Hellmouth, the Nosferatus (vampires) claim the night as their own, and this unholy creature makes no exception to that rule.

The combined ecstasies of eternal youth, inhuman strength and agility coupled with the complete absence of a moral conscience infatuates all newly-turned vampires with an overwhelming feeling of power. Despite the fact that it felt like an eternity since this particular vamp was sired, that feeling of unbridled authority over all living (or dead) creatures was not lost to him, instead amplified by the countless deathmatches and massacres he personnally brought to term.

The need to hunt having consumed him yet again, he went out to look for his next prey(s). As he slipped into the shadows, his ego and overconfidence has started to blind his usual cat like reflexes. So much, in fact, that he barely registered a fist slamming down on his temple and knocking him a few yards back against the cold brick wall...

"Slayer..." growled the soulless demon, until his vision cleared and he saw not the nubile form of the Chosen One, but a shadowy figure draped in a leather trenchcoat, casually smoking a cigar.

"Bollocks, that had to hurt" remarked the assaillant with a distinct british accent as he threw away the cigar. Blood started dripping from the vampire's forehead as he slowly got up. Having eventually regained his senses, he could easily detect his opponent's absence of a soul, of any perceivable body heat, and most importantly, thanks to his refined hearing, the lack of a heartbeat...

"Sorry mate, nothing personnal here, but a bloke's gotta vent his aggressiveness somehow, and you just happened to be in the way..." started the stranger.

There could be no mistake now, this guy could only be...

"Spike!" yelled the half-crazed vampire as he leapt towards his agressor with savage speed, throwing an elbow attack that was swiftly evaded by his opponent.

"Nice to know that you newly-turned ninnies aren't ignorants when it comes to recognizing the legends." started Spike.

"Legend? A traitor like you? scoffed the berserked vampired as he multiplied his attacks on the older and more experienced vampire. "You consort with the Slayer, pit yourself against your brethen, and caused dissension amongst vampires in the Hellmouth", spat the lunatic walking corpse as his fist finally connected with Spike's chest, causing him to double over and collapse on his knees beneath him.

"The time you have spent as the Slayer's lapdog has made you weak. Show me your real face while I give you a one way ticket to the Styx " spat the vampire.

He didn't, however count on Spike getting up as he delivered his speech, nor did he expect the vampire who killed two Slayers to start chuckling uncontrollably.

Spike: Not bad mate, and here I was thinking I wouldn't get a good brawl tonight.
With that, his facial features distorted. With haunting yellow eyes and fangs exposed, Spike revealed his true vampire nature.

"Unfortunately, you neglected to point out the one thing that separates vampires who gets to live forever...and those who are destined to be at the receiving end of a Slayer's stake. "

His opponent could barely see Spike's movements as his face was violently slammed on the cold stony ground, his jawbone instanly shattering, bits of fanged teeth and bloody maxillaries splattering on the ground.

Spike: I may have had my ass spectacularly kicked around by the Slayer, but fighting vampires, demons, overzealous knights, an occasional troll demon and a really skanky hellgod on a regular basis makes kicking the asses of ninnies like you...

On cue, he withdrew Buffy's favorite stake that he swipped among with a few of her unmentionnables and shoved it through the defeated vampire's heart.

"Almost too easy".

As the vampire explosed in a cloud of dust, Spike went over the results of his nightly "patrol": 5 vampires, all brandishing their own epic speeches, and 1 Serpavo demon, which he wrestled with for almost half an hour until he remembered that they can only be killed by drowning.

"All in all, an uneventful night", thought Spike. He felt dismayed by the fact that ever since that fateful night where he and Buffy litterally rocked the house, nothing in his daily (nightly, to be accurate) routine gave him the same level of satisfaction it used to.
Nothing surprising really, considering the fact the while a Slayer's blood is a powerful aphrodisiac, her sexual...aromas had to be at least twice as addicting.

So...finally realizing that the only thing that can quench his lusts could be found in neither the thrill of the hunt or the predominant need to feed, the true ruler of the night hid himself in the cover of shadows and disappeared into the darkness of the alley... and towards the Summers's house.

************************************************************************************************

"There shouldn't be anyone in the Summers's residence besides Buffy, her brat sister Dawn and her best friend Willow, at least this late in the night anyway", thought Spike as he skillfully leapt on the window sill leading to the Slayer's room from a nearby tree, a useful tactic used by the Slayer during her teenage years to keep her nightly patrols a secret from her mother.

Of course, he could have entered the house by conventional means, if not for the fact that he'd rather be staked then to be subjected to Dawn's trademark teenage mood swings, or to have to listen to Willow sulk and whine about how her gay lover Tara left her because she abused the use of magicks.

As he slid the window open, he felt a wave of nausea overcome him: Buffy's room was packed with crosses and garlic! realized Spike as he lost hold of the window's grip and sunk like a rock some stories below...

"Bloody heeellllllllll" managed to yell the luckless vampire as he crashed flat on his back and lost consciousness...

************************************************************************************************

"The smell of strawberries..." muttered Spike as he came to and his mind started to recollect all the events leading to where he was...until the thought of an intoxicatingly sweet aroma clued him in that he had a pleasant dream while he passed out, that and the huge hard-on he had.

The more he tried to recall his brief lapse into dreamland, the more the racking pain in his head seemed to intensify. "Bloody rot!" cursed the blond vampire as he was going insane from both the searing headache and the infatuating aroma.

Nonetheless, Spike temporarily kept these strange thoughts aside as he was trying to figure out a way to get inside the Slayer's house, since the first hints of a big thunderstorm are showing. Now...besides the Slayer's chambers, he could try to break into Joyce's bedroom, empty since Buffy and Dawn's mum passed away. That is if he wanted to risk breaking his leg while trying to jump over a half a dozen meters from the Slayer's window.

Now, he could also break into Willow or Dawn's room, but he knew that Buffy would crucify him if she found him in her 15 year-old sister's bedroom, asleep, in her nightie, with dirty thoughts (of Buffy...duh) in his mind...

That leaves Willow's room, although he's not too keen on the thought of her freaking out and turn him into a frog either...except that she probably wouldn't, knowing her erratic phobia of frogs.

"Wait a minute, how do I know about her frog fear?" wondered Spike as he mentally scolded himself for having spent way too much time with these geeks and losing his Big Bad attitude.

It was then that he noticed the perfect way of breaking in: the bathroom window was left open. He contemplated the thought of breaking and entering while Buffy was showering or undressing, but remembering the unhealthy "surprise" she left him in her room, he quickly dismissed the thought.

Perfect. No one is in there. Spike swiftly slipped in and opened the bathroom door.
Oddly, the house was relatively unlit. Furthermore, his enhanced hearing couldn't perceive any sounds inside the house, save for the sounds of the telly in the living room. What was certain was that no one was sleeping in the living room, or else he'd hear Buffy's incessant snoring, Dawn yapping over the phone, or the sound of Willow choking her tears in her sleep.

"Choking her tears in her sleep" pondered Spike as his thoughts returned to the cheerful redhead. It's not like these past events, with Buffy dying, having to take care of her grieving sister, patrolling and silently mourning together didn't make them feel closer. Even then, defining their relation as friendship was pushing it...in a way where both of them would tear the eyes from the sockets out of anyone who would dare make that assumption.

Actually, Willow would just give that person a huge fit, and after feeling guilty for a few days she would bake him cookies and make it all better. Spike chuckled. Yep...that's what she would do.

She always extended her smile to everyone (including him, even if he tried to kill her a good...half-dozen times) that he barely ever saw her ever get angry. It was then that Spike realized how the use of magicks had changed this once docile creature into something capable of causing great pain to her enemies...and her friends. He could think of no other reason that could explain why she have threathened Giles after he had exposed to her the dangerous repercussions of bringing back Buffy from the dead.

Thinking back, he also noticed how nobody had thanked her, and how she had to bear all the burden and guilt of tearing Buffy from heaven, the latter unbeknownst to her of course.

"Bugger that. I just can't wait to get rid of this chip those government nancy-boys put inside me so I can just kill all of these stupid bints and not have to care about their feelings..." joked Spike half-heartedly, which, for a brief moment, make him afraid of his true nature...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As he stealthily made his way downstairs, he felt somewhat comforted by a familiar scent which seemed to be present in his mind lately. As he made his way into the living room, all distractions brought on by the noises of the television, its reflecting light, whoever Rachel is shagging this week...all of that simply stopped existing as Spike laid his eyes on the vision of absolute loveliness in front of him on the couch...

Willow was lying dormant before him, her lower body wrapped by sheets, her droopy eyes resting peacefully, like an untainted angel. From the slight disarray of her makeup and the clear liquid leaking between her pink cheeks, he could tell that she had been crying for...about half an hour before finally dozing off into sleep.

Spike knew that the sight of this kindest of creatures, so vulnerable and fragile, a creature so innocent yet in such silent suffering would just MELT the heart of any child, woman, or man. Barely qualifying as a man, Spike just felt a strange sensation in his chest as he could swear he just heard his heart beat...except that the feeling he just described was lost to him ever since he became a vampire..

Time stopped for the vampire as he felt the seconds and minutes pass right before his eyes while gazing at the young woman. Why he couldn't divert his sight from her he can't explain, but the only certitude Spike had was that even if his chip was removed, he would shield her from pain for as long as they both shall live...

********************************************************************************************************************
********************************************************************************************************************

PART II "The chance to start over"...



Mesmerized by the look of serenity on Willow's face, Spike suddenly broke out of his reverie when he noticed her rolling around on the couch, a pained look on her face as her tired pupils finally opened and her delicate lips ushered:

"Tara..."

Despite the fact that the single word that Willow spoke was almost a silent whisper, Spike could hear it as clearly as the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. He could also sense all the pain behind it, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what kind of dream she just had...

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted when he saw Willow reach for a handful of Kleenex tissues on the table and hastily dried her abundant tears.

"Spike...what are you...(sniff) doing here?" mumbled Willow while she tried to catch her breath between every word she spoke.

Spike promptly turned around, both in order to keep her from feeling embarassed and because watching her cry made him feel uneasy.

"Umm...telly's broke down at the crypt. Figured everyone would be tucked in their comfy beds right about now..."

"Speaking of which, where's Buff and the little bit?" inquired Spike.

Willow: Dawn's staying over at Janice tonight, or at least that's what she told us anyway.
Buffy is...out at the Bronze with Xander and Anya, she said she had to get her mind off things...which translates to partying to the wee hours of the morning.

Spike: And you figured: this would be a good time to stay at home alone and sulk...

It was then that he noticed the two bottles of beer rolling around, a few feet from where he was standing.

"And apparently, getting drunk of your ass", continued Spike.

Willow shot him a pissed off look, which ended up making him smile more than anything else.

Willow: Lay off, my friends never let me drink anything because they think I'm just drowning my sorrow with beer. You don't know what kind of pain...

"I'm not one of your frien..." started Spike, before realizing what he just said.

An eternity of awkward silence seemed pass as Spike tried to avoid looking at Willow, imagining how much he just hurt her feelings.

"Will..." started Spike.

"Leave me alone", replied Willow as she hid her face between her sheets.

Spike: That's it, we're going to the Bronze. Once we get your lesbian hands on some nice piece of ass...

"Pretty soon you'll be going - Tara who?".

Judging from Willow's reaction, or lack of it, he guessed it didn't cheer her up any.

Willow: Look, if you're not going to watch TV, go home.

"And abandon me like everyone else has." muttered Willow.

"She actually bought my reason for coming here?", chuckled Spike. Truth be told, he'd rather be anywhere than here. Even if he was fond of her, it was obvious that she didn't want him here, and there was no feeling he despised more than that.

As he got up and headed towards the door, the sound of choked tears filled the room anew.

"Rot..." said Spike quietly as he walked back and sat right next to Willow, below the couch where she was still covered under her sheets.

As he got closer, the sweet scent of Willow's red hair made it hard for him to concentrate on anything else. He aimlessly zapped through the channels, looking for anything, ANYTHING, that could break the silence between them.

After changing channels for 15 minutes, Spike decided it was time for a break.

Spike: Listen...I'm going to get something to drink.

"Don't go and start the party without me or anything..." muttered Spike.

He didn't really need to soothe his thirst for blood, but he WAS in a dire need to get wasted.

"Completely and utterly...wasted" thought Spike.

Things didn't get better once he opened the fridge.

Spike: Bugger this. Sodding american booze...

During his quest for hard liquor, Spike heard Willow yell out things in her sleep.

"Loony bint..." mumbled Spike as he made out the words coming out of her mouth.

Placebo...entropy...quasar...

Spike returned to the living room about 5 minutes later, sporting a sizeable bottle of brandy. He was quite surprised when he realized Willow was yelling answers at the TV. It turns out that before he went to the kitchen, he left the channel to the show "The Weakest Link".

"Good old Anne Robinson", thought Spike. Who'd have figured that watching a crazy british bitch demeaning those poor saps would actually lift her morale up,

Willow: Spike!

-What?

Willow: Where'd you get that bottle of brandy?

Spike: Funny you should ask. One of you gals hid it in a storage compartment in the basement.

Willow: The one next to the boxes marked "Joyce"?

Spike: Yeah...and?

Willow shot him a "duh!" glance.

"Oh", said Spike as he uncorked the tip open.

Willow: What the hell are you doing? Put that back before Buffy kills you!

Spike: Relax pet. Joyce must have wanted to use this to celebrate special occasions. With you boo-hoo-ing about your break-up... It wouldn't have bothered her if we made good use of it...

Willow: "We"?

Spike: Hey! Buffy's mum always made sure I had a good cup of tea or a decent glass of wine everytime I stopped by. She would be rolling over in her grave if she found out I didn't have anything else to drink than american beer.

He proceeded to drink a few gulps of brandy.

Spike: That lady had fine taste indeed.

Willow: Gimme!

*****************************************************************

They spent the next twenty minutes or so taking turns getting shots from the bottle, while yelling answers at the top of their lungs at the TV. At some point, Willow perched her head on Spike's shoulder, in order to get her drinking turn as soon as Spike was done with his. Her beautiful hair, just inches from his nose, had the most lovely scent. Spike had a hard time focusing on crazy old Anne driving the contestants on the edge of insanity.

"Fyarll demons! shouted Spike.

Willow: You're crazy!

Spike: What? It's the bleeding truth.

Willow: Like they're going to say, on National television, that Fyarll demons desecrated Serbian shrines.

Spike: Just you wait then.

...

Spike: Albanians?!! Piffle.

Willow: It's all right Spike. I believe you...

Two seconds later, he forgot whatever made him angry in the first place.

Spike: Bugger, we're out of booze. I'll go get us some (hiccup) more...

Willow: No need to get up, I'm on it.

He spent the next ten seconds staring at her, waiting for her to move.

Spike: Um...wouldn't you have to...I'm taking a wild guess here...get up in order to get the aforementionned booze?

Willow: Here it is!

Spike: What in the bloody hell are you babbling about?

Then he noticed two bottles of vodka in front of him...except that they're floating in mid-air.

Spike: Will...

"Too slow! chirped Willow as she took first choice of the alcoholic beverages.

She cheerfully drinked half a pint of vodka until she noticed the gloomy look on Spike's face.

"What's wrong with you?" inquired Willow.

"Was it just me or did the booze suddenly find a way to reverse the laws of gravity?" joked Spike.

Willow: What are you talking about? I telepathically moved it here. Sorry if it took so long, I'm a little out of it right now...

Spike: Didn't you swear off magicks...like 4 days ago?

Willow: Please...it was harmless. And nobody saw me do it anyway.

Spike: Thanks a lot.

Willow: You know what I mean. You don't get on my case like the others.

Spike let out a long, unnecessary breath as he gathered his thoughts and started venting out.

-Look, I really didn't want to this, especially after the good time we've just spent together, but you have to realize what breaking your resolution means.

Willow: I don't know what you're talking about...

Spike: Wake up red. Your friends...I mean Buffy, Xander and Dawn, they would never come out and tell you how serious your problem is, but I certainly don't mind doing it.

Willow: Will you just let it go? Nobody was hurt.

Spike: You just don't get it. Even if nobody was hurt, what you are using is dangerous, and the effect it has on you is something that you can't deny.

Willow: No, you're the one that doesn't get it. You're have no idea what you're talking about. I help people...

Spike: You also hurt people, your friends among others.

Willow: I never...

Spike: Enough with the bleeding denial! When you had your will done, you put peoples's lives in danger. And just last week, we all nearly got killed because of your little amnesia spell. Did you forget why Tara...

Suddenly, Spike felt the air between them thicken, and it suddenly got very...very cold.

Spike: Will?

Then he saw the look on her faces...her eyes mostly -and he suddenly felt more afraid of Willow than he ever felt against the Slayers he met.

"Pitch black, like death itself" thought Spike.

Before he could continue, the bottle of brandy swirled around at an incredible speed and violently slammed itself the wall, shattering into a thousand pieces.

Spike: Will...

-Shut up, Spike.

Spike: One of these days you'll end up killing someone you love.

Now it wasn't funny anymore. Spike felt as if he was light as a feather as everything in the room, except for him and Willow, started floating and spinning. Her energy may be unstable, but Spike knew she could easily tear his atoms apart, desintegrating him like she did to that demon after she went joyriding with Dawm. It was obvious she was very angry...and in a great deal of pain.

"Tadpoles..." muttered Spike, loudly enough so she could hear.

The room suddenly stopped moving as energetically. He finally established a link between Willow's subconscious and himself.

"Now, you may not like what you are about to hear, but someone has to open your eyes to the truth. If you are going to tear me apart afterwards...at least I'll go down fighting."

Willow stared at him with those dark empty eyes of hers, piercing his stomach with her gaze.

-I don't give a damn what you...

Spike: You better give a damn, because someone should have told you this a long time ago.

"No one pretended that fighting the good fight was going to be easy. It hasn't helped that you have been exposed and been able to wield so much power at such a young age. And believe me, your friends are grateful for all the help you lent them during these past 6 years", started Spike.

"But something's changed inside you. Back then, you would feel guilty everytime you inavertedly hurt someone through the use of magick. Remember when you used to bake chocolate chip cookies when your will was done and demons almost teared us apart? Now you barely shrug your shoulders when Tara found out you erased memories from her mind."

"None of the bleeding Scoobies told you how offended and utterly pissed they were when you gave us amnesia. You robbed us of our identity, our memories...our life. Without that, we cease to exist."

Willow: I didn't mean to...

Spike: I know you didn't, that it was an "accident". Still, how many more accidents will occur before it becomes fatal? How many more before there's no going back?

Spike: Why did you want to stop using magicks in the first place?

Willow: Because I want Tara back...more than anything.

Spike: That's not a good enough reason.

Willow was flushed.

Willow: How dare you...

Spike: Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt your feelings for her, or your sincerity.

Spike: But what I'm telling you is this: as long as you don't do it for anybody other than yourself, you'll keep
slipping until you breach the point of no return.

Willow: You don't know that.

Spike: I know a lot more than you think. Me and my 128 plus years.

Willow: You can't help me...

Spike: I know you better than you give me credit for.

Willow: Is that right?

Spike: Go back to the time when you didn't know what hatred meant.

Willow: ...

Spike: A time when you didn't know how to cast a single spell. When your definition of fun was waiting for Monday in order for classes to start. When the only books you read weren't magic books. When you were the resident hacker of Sunnydale. When your daily cares weren't about hunting demons or killing vampires, but studying for mid-terms and struggling to get your that bloke Xander's attention...the kind person you were before you had a taste of power.

Tears were now streaming down Willow's face.

Willow: ... Would Tara love that person?

Spike: I'm sure that's it's the person...that she fell in love with in the first place.

Willow: Would you ... love her?

Spike remained speechless. Timed seemed to stop just for them until he noticed Willow's eyes reverting back to the way they were.

Willow: I can't do this alone...

Spike: You'll never be alone, as long as you have your friends with you.

They both smiled at each other.

Tears quietly streamed down Willow's eyes again as she started to fall down.

There must have been a discontinuity in time, because the next thing he knew, his arms were wrapped around Willow.

Spike: Shhhh...

They stood together like that, the warmth of her tears making him feel like he wasn't an undead creature, but a living, breathing man...for a brief moment.

Willow barely managed a reaction when she felt Spike press his cold lips against hers...until she relunctantly kissed back.
A few seconds later though, she broke their sweet embrace.

Willow: Spike...I...we can't do this.

Spike: Sorry...I know. You left boy's town a while ago.

Spike: It's just that...I love your quirks, the funny way you talk...the sweet scent of your hair...

As he motionned to kiss her again, Willow turned her face around.

Spike: It's alright. I get the message.

He sighed heavily as he tried to come up with something to say.
Willow finally broke the silence.

Willow: I felt it too.

Spike: Felt what?

Willow: The time where you kidnapped me in order to get Drusilla back... and when you attacked me in my dorm room.

Spike: I still don't know what you're talking ab...

Willow: The tension between us. The connection we had. I was afraid for my life, but deep down...

Spike: ...inside, the scent you give when you're afraid...it infatuated me.

Spike: Does that mean that you also...

Spike: feel the same way?

They were looking at each other straight in the eyes now, both quivering slightly from the years they spent ignoring these feelings they knew but always denied, had but never explored...

Willow: Spike...the answer to that question...

Spike: Yes?

Willow: The day when that chip of yours is removed, you will know if these feelings you have for me are true or not.

Willow: Until then, what we have or may have had...will always be a faraway dream or a distant fantasy.

Willow: The day you know for sure, come see me...and I'll give you my answer.

Spike was speechless. He could barely register all that have been said these past minutes...until Willow held his hand with her delicate fingers.

Spike: Until that day comes...

Willow: Until then...this will have to do.

Their lips brushed softly at first, then their kiss became increasingly passionate.

To make this ephemery moment...last a lifetime.

They both had a hard time separating themselves from one another. It was only a full minute later that they managed to get out of each other's tight embrace.

Spike: Right then...

Willow: Yea...

The familiar feeling of tension filled the room again until Spike broke the silence.

Spike: Night is still young. How about we join those crazy youngsters at the Bronze?

Willow feigned a pensive look for a second, but she was obviously too tired to accept his invitation.

-Maybe next time. I think I'll call it a night for now, right after I clean up all this mess I've made.

As soon as she uttered those words, Willow went to the kitchen, and about 30 seconds later, emerged with a broom and a disposal basket.

"She just might make it..." thought Spike.

While watching her carefully picking up the small pieces of glass and neatly rearranging the items on the shelves and on the table, Spike realized that she now had the strength of will to overcome her addiction.

Spike: So...you'll be alright? Alone all night?

Willow: I'll be fine, thanks. You go and have fun.

She followed him to the door stand, and fearing they both won't be able to control themselves, they simply waved each other goodbye as Spike slowly disappeared...into the cover of darkness.

************************************************************************************************************************

"Bleeding...maggots" yelled Spike as he disembolwed the last of the three Chaos demons he fought. While he told her he would
meet up with the Scoobies at the Bronze, Spike needed something to get his mind out of Willow. Even drenched from head to toe with demon gore, he still couldn't get her aroma out of his brain.

"Why does this always happen to me?" muttered Spike as he drank a pint of the vodka he swiped while Willow went to get the
broom.

-I wonder what that nancy-boy Warren is doing right about now. A Willow-bot sure sounds like a good idea...(hiccup).

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE END...?

Author's note: Wow, my first complete work of fanfic is finally done. What got me to start writing about W/S?
The bastardization of the Spike character in season 6 , the tasteless and offensive portrayal of Buffy and Spike's relationship, some missing stuff on the Willow addiction storyline...

Mostly, it's just the incredible chemistry between Alyson Hannigan and James Marsters in the aforementionned scenes in S3 "Lover's Walk" and that S4 episode where Spike got chipped...those crazy kids sure can light up the screen.

As with most writers, I live on feedback. email me at thatvietguy@hotmail.com if you have any feedback...at all. Even 2 lines mean the world to me. So keep em coming. You'll be guaranteed a reply.

I had loads of fun writing this, and a true sequel sure sounds neat...maybe at the end of this or the 7th season, so I can get a better glimpse at where Joss is going with the boy's town/lesbian angle, and what happens with Spike's chip and "redemption".

Finally, massive thanks to you, the reader, for reading this story and keeping the flame of the W/S ship alive...tell your friends about this story!

That's all for now!

Pce

Dukester