Angrily pouring himself a cup of blood while smoking a cigarette, Spike mused on the events that had just passed.
She came by his crypt right on cue, not speaking a word.
She didn't have to. He knew what she was there for – what she was only there for, if he was honest with himself.
Not wasting a second, he switched off the television and reached for her.
Afterwards, as she still lay in his arms – a feat that he was lucky to come by – he fucked up, and she ran off.
Rule bloody one: Never say "I love you."