Trouble Loves Me





Author: VaRuKa (me!)

Disclaimer: I own Kalia. That bitch, is mine. Now the characters from BTVS... well they're a whole other story. I'm just playing with them. Nothing bad ever came from just playing...
Author's Note: I think I ate a ball. Will it bounce or slide down my throat? Oh... it's words and Buffy doesn't exist.
Summary: (AU- everyone human) Spike is involved in a malicious plan to take Dawn Winters down. While he tries to keep his mind on business, it prances towards pleasure when he pursues Angel's new flame Kalia. Or should I say she pursues him? Just know this won't end well. But for who?
Rating: R. Yup I will go with R. Or I'll go with PG-13... Or I'll go with R. Or PG-13. R! PG-13! R! PG-13! Oh Damn it. You choose!
Feedback: No. I don't wanna know shit about what you think. Nope I want to be non knowing. J fucking K! Fuck man, I was being sarcastic, realize.





Won't stab the git. Won't shoot the git. Won't stab the git. Won't shoot the git. I repeat my mantra over and over, trying to shove it up high in my brain. Here on business, can't kill him, even if the two-faced bastard deserves it. He's all the scum in the world that was packed in a petri dish and injected into a woman to be born. Sadly, the experiment went as planned. Guessing that's why he's the best in this business.

A simple chuckle escapes my mouth at my wild thoughts. Two gruff men dressed in formal drab open the double doors leading to the man that sucked me into this life, this fucked up mess. This life has its good points, though. Pick of the ladies. Money to spend every two seconds. Hell, make that every milii second. Houses to make Bill Gates stammer. Cars that would put "The Fast and The Furious" to shame.

Only if you played your cards right, and learned the every fucking changing rules. Wait, make that learning that there are no rules and if there are rules, follow them.

I confidently swagger in, sending the air crackling with my presence. The room is small, but tasteful. Teal paint and a ocean blue carpet. Plain. Plain for a reason though.

I smirk arrogantly at Angel. Angel to his employees, friends, and family, but Angelus to everyone else. Little psychotic asshole. Switches personalities at the drop of a dime. The room is empty but for us and two other business partners. Angel smiles, if you call a slight twitch of his lips a smile. What a cold-hearted motherfucker. Hey, I know I'm a bit cold, but someone can take it but so far.

He sits at the head of the rectangular table, clearly showing he's the boss. Short brown hair gelled up all over the place. He still thinks the style is cool, yeah, only on him. Inwardly I sigh... Brown eyes that can feel as if they can see into your soul, so intense, to intense. Again with the brown. Should have been born a black guy. Tanned skin remotely shining in the fake light. What does he do, use the left over gel on his skin? That ever present trench coat draped over his body hiding those stupid clothes. Muscles bulging... God, he just wants to run around here screaming, I'm a sexy beast! Don't you just wanna throw yourselves at me!? At least I'm subtle.

I think about my clothes. My trademark black leather duster that flows behind me, black loose but tight fitting jeans that show my cute ass (yes I'm vain but not his kind), second skin fitting black sleeveless T with a silky ruby over shirt. And to top that off black combat boots. Can't you see a pattern? Black, black, red, black... If it don't click you're as dumb as a brick. Sorry brick.

Now... I'm not as bulky as the grand poofter. Sheet white, lean, and damn proud of it. Get this, bleached white spiked up hair. Oh baby, I got the whole bad boy ensemble. Can't forget the smooth British accent, and baby blues that make the girls melt, and add on a sexy cocky smirk that got me my dark fairy, Dru. I flash a glare at Angel. Ho left me for him. Haven't seen either since then, which was over 2 fucking years ago. She wanted the world. I wanted her. I got the world, but a little to late, Angel got it before hand.

Now I remember why I didn't want to come here. Deceitful whelp. Took her from right under my nose. Nothing ever lasts, so take what you can, while you can. Obviously, that's my motto. I've got a lot. Want to write them in a book sometime, if I get the time. I intently glance at my nails, brushing them against my duster before I take another look around the room and defiantly lock eyes with Angel.

"Hello again." Angel greets all warm and cold at the same time.

Must have taken years to prefect that voice. Right deceptive little prick.

"Well, well, well... 'ello Angel, the one we all know, and love to hate."

The other two people gasp at my blunt statement of my feelings, for everyone fears the big poof, as they should. Only if hell suddenly develops a spring of cool water will I truly fear him. I know to much about him. I was his friend before any of the big shit went down to end us up here. He's strong but weak. Ok, so he's more strong than weak. Uh... So am I. I didn't get the name Spike for sitting with my thumb up my ass. Angel breaks into a genuine smile. Masochistic.

"Seems old wounds are still open and ready for the salt pouring, eh William?" He quips.

"You know it's Spike, but yet you continue to have selective amnesia. Should we be worried about your health, old boy?" Oh yeah, hit him where it hurts, his vanity.

"I just do it, cause it irritates you so."

"Or something's went a bit loose, fell out, and you're to lazy to pick it up. Ever thought of that?" I inquire, full smirk blazing my lips.

"Haven't changed a bit." Subtle undertones accompany the words.

"And have you?"

"No, still the devil's adversary."

"Should have guessed." I remark, with a shake of my head.

"Should have, but didn't."

With a flick of his wrist he gestures to an empty seat on the right of him. A quirked eyebrow answers his silent question. He said, sit down. I answered, go jack off. He clenches his fist, trying to shake off the anger that's been building since I uttered my first word. He nods in semi-acceptance at my seat, which is currently the left corner after you just walk in. The sorta-dim lighting casts our shadows flashing around the room.

Angel clears his throat and extends his hand to his left, "Oz."

In the spilt second he introduces Oz, I have already assessed him. His wild hair is springin' everywhere on his head. Bloody hell, it looks like someone stole shelves of paint from Home Depo and decided to use his hair as their mixing area. But... If you really look and think, it's unique, some kinda statement. Only his super brain can tell us what.

His body is all but tense. He's relaxed beyond reason. This place is full of cut throats but he's all 'yeah and?'. Those shimmering green eyes seem hazy, way to out of focus. Drugs. That's it. I think he's high, or, really thinking a little to bloody much. Probably a little philosopher, got here through is intellect. He's lanky but with a little muscle, that you can barely see through his baggy aqua jeans, rock T-shirt, and plaid over shirt.

Got taste. Unusual, but I'm all for that. Still I hate the new styles. Love the 80's. For men, tight was in. Showed you're "assets". Now a days, I swear most men don't have an ass or they sure don't want anyone to find out. It's like their asses are now their dick size. Ha. I can try to sympathize, not everyone is all secure in that area as me. I crack myself sometimes.

Angel retracts his hand and extends it to the man beside Oz, "Xander."

Now I'm not one to talk, with the name Spike and all, but can these names get any more queer? Mentally, I shrug away the thought and focus on Xander.

What a whelp. Light brown hair in some soddin' version of a surfer's cut. He seems way out of place at an illegal meeting with some of the greatest gangsters. Looks like someone kicked him out of a plane going back to California and he landed ironically in that chair. I wouldn't be surprised if he lived in his parents basement for fuck's sake before he became involved. His big Hawaiian shirt looks wrinkled, right along with his tan pants. Does he even know what I-R-O-N spells? Damn, maybe he was always like this. Money and status, doesn't always change everything. Brown eyes twinkling with humor and interest. So boyish lookin'. Bet he still watches cartoons, reads comics, and stares at girls' tits as if they're the best things since Star Trek.

I'm not beginning to see a pattern. Danger Will Robinson! Danger! What is our little Angel up to now?

And with a final over-dramatic swoop of his arm in my direction he states, "William."

"Seems we all got the names part done, now can we get to the what the hot hell are we doing here part? Ever been interrupted when your girl is playin' nurse and you're the patient? Makes ya cranky. I'm speaking from major experience." Long pause as Oz smirks playfully and Angel watches with boredom, "Whoa... blabber mouth me. Caffeine and Xander don't mix like cheerios and sugar."

"We'll all remember this when we want to rehash our early childhood." I taunt, with a long roll of my eyes.

"Xander we get the point." His eyes bore into poor Xander's, leaving him fidgeting before he glances at all, "We're all here to talk about-"

The slam of the doors opening and then shutting cuts Angel off, drawing all eyes to the person now standing in front of us. This chit just seems to command attention.

"Dawn Winters." She finishes for Angel, with an upturn of her lush blood red lips.

She stands there as if she's on top of the world. As if we should be begging and groveling at her high heeled black boots. Extravagant flaming hair cascades down just above the swell of her ass. An what an ass... fits well in that red leather mini skirt. My tongue darts out to lick my suddenly dry lips. Thick thighs encased in sexy fishnet stockings, a simple black lycra tank top molds onto her upper body, making her whole delicious figure more pronounced, not to mention those breasts. Spike gives them two thumbs way, way up! Not to big, not to small. Just big enough for her 5' 5" self. All in a caramel package.

Her smirk is of pure mischievousness. She has a secret and she wants to squeal. I wanna make her squeal, so does every other guy in the room. Her whole body language screams smart as a computer, but her attire yells I've got a body and that's about it. What a sweet contradiction.

Out of bloody nowhere her eyes find mine. What can I say but, time freezes? To gushy. Ok, time shuts down? Not good enough. Augh... Little help here!!!! Her eyes are swirls of chocolate-y goodness. Not brown. Nope. Never using the word brown on them. They're the color of creamy chocolate. Now I could go for some fudge ice cream right about now.

"Kalia, how lovely for you to join us." Angel purrs, breaking my concentration on food, Kalia, and sex.

Yeah Kalia... that's her name. I muse over it. Some information I've filed away for later usage pops up. Kalia = Goddess of Destruction, in English. Pretty. Naughty. Bloody Hell, even the name is great.

Now it's Kalia's turn to break my thought process with, "Well, it is my speciality to just appear unannounced. Comes with the attitude."

Her voice is laced with a light French accent that sends messages straight to my crotch. Down lil Spike...! Again it's always the other head, leading the other head. Men. We're just as the women say.

"Ever heard of the saying 'got a body like a battle axe'?" Xander pipes up.

"Xander, you go with someone. I go with someone. I'm not just playin' hard to get. So scram with that shit you're thinking about. Sorry Xan-man ain't gonna happen on my watch. You just still have to fantasize." She teases with a sisterly tone.

"Nice to see you're alive." Oz speaks for the first time here. Definitely the type that speaks only when necessary, "Long time."

Kalia nods in agreement. I stand rooted to my spot. Just peachy, with a heaping helping of shit. She's got a man and they know her already. Well that's just quite unfair. Haven't heard hide nor tail of this roaring flame.

"Friendly hug available?" Xander asks, all smiles and raging hormones.

"Whoever said we're friends?" She quips.

Angel sends a silent warning to all through his eyes, to shut their traps. I softly snicker, if he was female he'd be going for Dominatrix of the year. Her finger sharply points at me, while her eyes search Angel's.

"Kalia, this is a lovely old friend, William." Angel practically spits out answering her silent question, with as much sweetness he can muster on the words lovely and friend.

Now again we come eye to eye. This time her face is clouded in seduction, mixed with curiosity. In response to her examination of me, I put on my best arrogant grin.

"William." She pauses, a hand on her hip, the other tugging leisurely at her hair, face tilted to the sky as if the roof isn't there, "That name just reminds me of centuries long ago."

"Bugger, that's my old name. It's, Spike, now. Seems the grand poofter just can't keep important information anymore." I shoot a mock serious glance at Angel, "A doctor and some pills might help."

When I return my focus back at Kalia, she's smiling. I got her to smile! A good jumping up and down with shouts of delight would spurt forth from me, if I wasn't a grown man, of course. Grown and have a reputation to keep.

Her lower lip juts up delectably, "To bad. William sounds good.... But I guess Spike is good. Sounds wild." She licks her bottom lips, a little too slowly, "Am I guessing right, if I say you have a motorcycle?"

"Harley." I state, hoping to please.

The smile broadens, "I like you already."

Oh baby, a bad girl. She needs a bad boy. Forget your wanker of a boyfriend! You probably have to fake it!

Angel's nostrils flare with anger. Cartoon Angel would have steam shooting out of his nose and ears right about now. Should of fucking guessed, she's his girl. Then I guess she does fake it. Whatever happen to Dru? Probably dumped her as fast as he can shit. User and abuser. Took her just to see me break, not that she wasn't all too willing prance right into her "daddy's" lap. Just ducky. Irony is like a tapeworm that has crawled up my ass and sits oh so comfortably there. Why does everything seem to belong to him??!!

"Baby... how about you tell them in great detail why we're here?" Angel's voice is more commanding then questioning.

Kalia's searing gaze is torn from me and onto everyone else in the room. Oz just as a sly little smile gracing his lips. Xander is all but ready to snap his fingers and let his cronies beat the crap out of me. With speed and crafty-ness no one can beat, I give him the finger.

Swiftly, out of the corner of my eye like a gymnastic champion she hops up onto the long table. Impressive. Probably has a lot of talents. My full attention is now on her. Well, I came here for a meeting, not for the scenery. Her boots softly click with each step she takes to get to the table's middle, hair swaying, eyes absorbing everyone and everything around her to be contemplated. Lucky blokes get a nice lil peek up that skirt, if the soddin' thing can be called a skirt. Reminds me of something Christina Aguilera wore.

She comes to a halt, making sure all eyes are on her. Fuck yeah. No we're all looking at the carpet. What a bloody gorgeous carpet. Look, it's all furry lookin'. Nice carpet. I roll my eyes in annoyance. Damn shot I took before coming here is getting to me...

With a magnified voice she begins, "Dawn Winters is our main priority." Her eyes seem to continue grazing over each of us as each word is spoken, giving the illusion that she's staring at everyone, "If she continues, on her little power trip using her new boyfriend's assents, which is none other than Charles Gunn, aka Gunn," A smirk appears on her mouth right before it vanishes, "she might become an even major problem than she already is. She's intercepting our sales, our raids, our hit men, and our spies, our information people, our money, and our goddamn lives. We need to get together and put a stop to this.

"She's whiny. She's a brat. She's determined. She's big headed. She wants, what she shouldn't have." She's basically describing Angel, "We need immediate and drastic action against this self-centered bitch." Again with the Angel describing, "She wants to make herself the most popular, the most powerful, among our society, like this is some twisted version of high school. We don't know if her true goal is to crush us and make herself the complete leader of this "business" or simply put all of us at the bottom of the food chain, so the money is rolling her way. Both are plausible. Both possible. Both, are theories." And accompanying her last words, is a girlish hair flip.

Aww...That was just too cute, after her amazing oh so serious speech, which has left everyone in deep thought (come off it people, you think to much), she ends it like that. There is a soft side under that hard shell. Expecting everyone to have understood she takes the last steps over to the end of the table and elegantly falls down into Angel's lap, skirt riding up to he point where you don't need your imagination on the color of her panties. Angel's arms as if cued, circle her slim waist. Fuck, the other two nancy boys already knew! Somehow I think they've even forgotten I'm in the room... Maybe black just sends out, don't look at me! AH! EK! I'm not here! You don't see me!

Mmmm... That sounded a little to much like a crack addict here in New York, right before they pop out and scare the bollocks out of you.

"Time to go all WW2 on this puppy?" Xander leans in to enthusiastically question.

"I think what the Xan-man means, is do we, as a dysfunctional person in this world once put it, "close her blinds"?" Oz responds with a question of his own.

"All you bloody wankers have been watching to many mob movies." I state offhandedly.

Kalia's eyes settle on me and she breathes out a small giggle, causing Angel to tap his hand against her hip in irritation. I seductively grin back. Kalia takes quick notice of Angel's insistent tapping, weaving a blank and passive expression onto her face. Damn twit only with him cause of his status and all that crinkly green money. Even I know money can't buy everything. Sure as hell didn't buy Dru back. I tried to convince myself it was because she was just confused. Yeah, as confused as Bill Clinton was when he let Monica blow him.

Angel stares me down, "And you would know this only because, you have experience in doing so." He shakes his head in distaste, "William, wake up! How you've survived this long baffles me to the point where I want to shake some sense into you."

"The point. You're off it." Kalia speaks up, eyeing Angel with a smirk almost like mine, "Let's just hop on off the kiddie train, and take a ride back to adults-ville."

Instantly, Angel tightens his grip on her in a cave man gesture. Kinda like, woman mine, away now, not for taking. Kalia it seems holds back the universal act for controlled anger which is the 'ld eye rolling. Wonder how Angel will try and hold on to this treasure. And as soon as the git loses her, wham, I'll ride up on my motorcycle, revving the engine, flashing my smirk, and take her away with me into the night. Now even to my ears that sounded 'trashy romance novel' like. So I'll then just drive away into the night, AFTER, Angel as a little run in with my tires.

She's all fire and ice. All flaunty, with her wit and body. The exact opposite of Dru. Now why would Angel want a girl any man would desire? So he can know, that he has a girl that any man would desire. Just his sick way of boasting his ego. Sometimes I wonder what size it is. Is it moon sized, his head sized, sun sized, a trillion Harry Potter books sized, the opposite of his dick sized? I wonder...

"Can't we just break out a sharp shooter and," He raises his hands up like a gun and pretend shoots around the room with the appropriate noises, "bang bang bang bang bang."

Xander ends with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, glancing around at each of us. I snort at his utter childishness. Really now, is he fit to even hold a gun? He might shoot off his balls for all we know. Oz simply runs his hands through that hair of his, in a thinking gesture. When is he not thinking? Angel arrogantly smirks, before diverting his attention to Kalia, if it ever left.

Angel whispers to her, "Tell them."

"Been done. Didn't work." She announces, "Anyway if it did work, her employees and Gunn would be on our backs. Killing her won't solve the problem, it will only inflate it."

"Then how should we go about this?" I ask, sauntering over to the nearest end of the table (leaving me facing Angel) and plopping my ass down, boots casually up, "We can't kill the chit. And that's basically how you solve a problem around here, make them dead. Now as I said before, we can't do that, so what can we do?"

All eyes have been on me throughout my little speech. Yeah, well people, I do have brains! The bleach hasn't seeped that far down yet.

Kalia gives a slight nod in agreement before speaking again, "That's why we've called this meeting. For strategy purposes."

Seems she calls all the shots in Angel's domain (New York). Finally someone is dominating him. Wishes do come true. The silence quickly escalates, leaving everyone tense and fidgety.... well not everyone. I take a glance at the little to relaxed Oz. Bloody hell, I need some lessons from him.

Surprisingly, the silence is finally smashed into ity bity pieces by Oz, "We could all devise some kind of plan to make Gunn kill her. That would be one of the best solutions, since we can't touch a hair on her head without it backfiring against us."

His young face swivels around to give us all a scan. I give him my nod of approval. Knew I was right. Oz is the smart one out of all us stupid gits. Wise beyond his soddin' years. The quiet ones are always the smart ones... or the deranged psychotic off their fucking bird ones. You never know. Maybe I should get all buddy buddy with the bloke.

Kalia has a light smile dancing on her lips as she looks up at the ceiling, contemplating her next words. Angel is basically sitting on his fat ass making Kalia do all the work... Good girl, keep that leash tight. A hyper active smile lights up Xander's face. Looks like he just woke up on Christmas morning to see that he got a brand-new playboy.

"We get to do our own version of 'O'?" Xander half questions, half confirms in a delighted squeal.

"Meddle with two people lives' who are happily in love and try to break them apart because we're mad with a blinding jealousy?" Oz raises an eyebrow as he inquires.

Xander opens his mouth to reply but I step in, "No, what Xander should have said was the movie Romeo and Juliet."

"Big deal," Xander shrugs with indifference, "they're both by Shakespear."

"But the story line is totally different." Kalia adds.

Oz tilts his head as an affirmation, "Even if they're both about love."

"You people really need to read the books instead of watching the blasted movies. Tsk. Tsk." I snort in mock sadness.

Somehow this peaks Angel's interest enough to make him star flapping his trap, "Still reading those poetry books, too? Could never pull you away from them... You loved them so much... I remember you even started writing your own poetry! What a laugh!" Angel sneers with evil triumph, basking in his ability to humiliate me, as everyone silences to hear, "I can still recall, the day when Dru nicknamed named you William the Bloody, because of you're bloody awful poems."

At that moment I just want to bash his fucking skull in, rip off his limbs' in slow painful movements, pound into Kalia right in front of his nancy boy brown eyes... I could go on and on and on and goddamn it all I could still go on... But I settle for flaring nostrils, clenching and unclenching fists, taking short hard breaths, and threateningly narrowing my eyes. Little mother fucker! Literally... I swear to god he'd fuck anything with a hole just to flaunt that he got laid.

"Yeah, well, someone needed to tell Dru where her sanity lied... She did have a whole bucket full of screws loose, if I do recollect correctly." I innocently accuse with a cheeky grin, then as a fake after thought, "You sure you heard her saying this when referring to my poems, that I don't write anymore? She could of meant William the Bloody, because of my bloody fantastic shagging. As usual we can't depend on your diminishing memory."

They all want to burst into hysterical laughter. I can clear as my dick is bigger than Angel's see it on their faces... and luckily so can Angel. A smug smile creeps up and settles on my lips. I want to jump out of my seat. Point directly at Angel. And laugh my pale ass off! Just spurt lots of HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH's!!! But with the whole 'I'm a grown man and surrounded by other men' factor, I think no.

As Angel's jaw is about to begin its gibberish flapping Kalia composes herself and steps in, "This is no time, to discuss such old and trifle things. The past is the past." So Angel told her about what happened, or his own edited bloody version, "We will now get back to the more crucial matter at hand. Got it?" She glances from Angel to me, then back again, all she gets is silence, "Good."

Angel flashes everyone a sickeningly sweet smile before speaking, "As usual... My Kalia is right. Time to put this to the side. Now please let's continue on with the meeting." I don't hear, I'm sorry! Well of course not, he'd rather wipe his own ass, before he uttered those two words, "I didn't call you all here for a break from work, just the exact opposite."

Kalia sucks in a deep breath, tasting the air to calm her nerves. Xander's eyes bounce around from everyone's face, in a disturbing hyper manner. Oz is just staring transfixed at Angel, seemingly seeing through Angel's every protective layer. I sit back, in an Oz like relaxed position. Gotta love this chit Angel is now shacked up with... Mmmm... maybe a little nudge here and a little nudge there, and I'll have her begging and whimpering under me as fast as a pop rock pops.

"...that would work." Kalia's velvety voice congratulates Oz.

"It was just a matter of evaluation." Oz replies with a slight shrug.

My eyes go wide. I flicker my gaze around the room. I take a few big breaths. Sod it all! I missed the evil diabolical plan! Me and my big ol' thinker wandered off into a smashing place in the back of my mind called, "Naughty Fantasizes: Spike Only. Today's feature, bad little Kalia riding Spike like the wicked pony he is.".

Everyone seems to be thoroughly pleased with the plan. I hold in a chuckle. Except Xander. He looks thoroughly confused. Poor kid, can't keep up in a grownup's world. I wonder where his security blanket is? Oh yeah anyway...

Fuck, I have to find a way to make them restate the plan. Noggin's comin' up empty here.

Screwing with my train of thought, Xander nervously inquires, "Huh? And just for good measure. Huh?"

Leave it up Xander to help me. Ironic, ain't it? He has one notch in my good book. I don't, count on having much more there anytime soon though.

Angel is just radiating annoyance for miles. Oz just casts his eyes down, in yet another thinking gesture. Does his expression ever change? Really now, it's spooky. Kalia is just having a ball with this. Her lips are curled in a devious little smile, that has just taken my proverbial breath away. She looks so tantalizing...mouth watering even...

"From what we have constructed, with what we know about Gunn and Dawn, we're going to get Gunn to shoot her murky brains out by..." She begins, and this time I (and maybe Xander too) listen, to the very end.

Bloody brilliant! Our little scrawny, immature, browned haired, browned eyed problem will soon be going down the drain, just like the blood Gunn will have to clean out of his shirt.

"Gotcha. Going to take some convincing of a few people... But you know me, I'll do anything to get a pest out of the house." He begins while excitingly rubbing his hands together, "Now, let's get ready to execute this dirty deed." Xander finishes, an evil twinkle apparent in his eyes.

"What do you have to say about this, William?" Angel requests, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

All eyes zero in on me. Even Oz is showing some mild interest.

A huge hyper grin breaks out on my face, "Let's break out a case of Jack Daniels, kiddies! This blasted meeting is adjourned. Time to throw a bash to wake up the soddin' coma patients, and get so snogged none of us can take a breath without the world turning upside down, spinning, and doing the tango." At Xander's eager smile, Kalia's intrigued eyebrow raise, Oz's warm twitch of his lips, and Angel's threatening scowl, I let the grin remold into a small smile of mischievousness and with a quirk of my scarred eyebrow, "So...

"My place, or yours?" I ask with full-blown mock seriousness.













(Sadly my readers... I may not be able to continue this. I need some support if I ever will. You could send it to me via Reviews. I'm dead seriousness. I think I just can't live up to this opening of the story...*sighs* and maybe this story sucks...*shrugs* I'll just never know...will I?)