All belongs to Joss I just wish they were mine. Reviews would be great.

Handing her the tea, getting his own, he lead them to his bedroom, where his tools were.

Tara leaned against him, never quite used to the chill, but enjoying the strength. She was looking forward to the session, the pain always relaxed her, gave her an outlet for her frustration.

"I'll set up while you change."

"O.k."

Her voice was still fragile, but he could hear her resolve, she was not a quitter. Laying out his tools and ink, he ripped open the sterilized products and knocked off the clothes strewn over the table where she would lay.

Modesty was not something she worried about with Spike, they were both so deeply in love with other people, and it hadn't become an issue. Good thing since there was only one bathroom. Smiling she hung her bra and shirt on the doorjamb and walked over to the table arranging herself on her stomach.

"What are you going to do today?"

Examining his previous work, which was healing nicely, he considered for a moment. They had agreed on wings extending over the middle of her back, she had confessed that she had loved Sara's tattoo in City of Angels. And then a more complicated pattern across her shoulder blades and neck that would eventually go down her arms.

"Fairies, the ones that face each other at the shoulder joint."

Smiling into the darkness, she imagined the fairies on her back. She had allowed him to pick the designs, trusting his judgment and so far she had not been disappointed.

"Mmm.hmm."

Smiling he set about cleaning her skin, knowing, she would soon be off in her own world. His work as a tattoo artist had been short, but he had never seen anyone enjoy the actual process as much as she did. The pain never affected her outwardly; in fact she had fallen asleep several times.

As soon as the buzzing started she felt herself falling away. There were no worries no pain, just Tara. Strange how Spike could take her to this place though pain.

As the first fairy began to emerge on her creamy skin he thought back to how exactly they had ended up here, a witch and her vampire.

2 ½ months ago.

"Bloody woman, I'm gone then."

He was shouting at no one in particular. Stomping back to his crypt, he kicked the door open swearing all the way. He was leaving tonight; he was tired of being kicked around. Maybe Seattle, the nights were long and the rain always kept the nasties home. He began to pack furiously then throwing his meager belongings into two duffle bags and heading back to his beat up Desoto. Pathetic, all of his worldly possessions had taken about 20 minutes to pack.

"Fucking hell."

He had almost made it that time. The bags were in the trunk and the key was in the door when he heard the scream. For an instant he wanted to keep going, but something stopped him. He knew it wasn't her, he knew her voice, but something held him there, demanding he go help. [A bleedin' conscious, that's just great]'

"Fuck."

Swinging around he ran to the direction of the scream.

"Bloody hell."

What he saw before him sent rage pouring through him, and the game was on. Standing before him was a plothar demon, nasty buggers that had a particular taste for witches. Which was just what it had in its clutches.

"Spike."

Her voice was barely a whisper but he could hear the fear and panic drumming in his ears. Pressed up against a tree, blood pouring form a cut above her eye was Tara. As he reined blow after blow onto the beasts back he saw flashes of Tara joking with him at Buffy's party, and how vulnerable she had been after Glory had scrambled her head. She had always been nice to him.

"Spike, I think its dead."

Her voice jolted him out his pummeling and looked down to see its beaten body lying on the ground before him.

"Well then I guess so."

Kneeling before her he helped her to her feet, noting how shaky she was.

"Got a nasty bump their luv. Can you walk?"

She had tried to nod, but had almost passed out. Scooping her in his arms, he carried her to his car, thinking how soft she was. Buffy was firm all over, all muscle, but Tara was a classic form, a curvaceous Venus. He had known a few in his day.

"There we go."

Depositing her gently into the car he slipped behind the wheel, glancing over at the witch. She was pale, but the bleeding had slowed, it was then that he realized he didn't know where to go.

"Tare, where do you want me to take you?"

He watched her eyes open, pain clouded them.

"Um, home I guess, no one is there."

He drove quickly knowing where the apartment complex was. He helped her out of the car and up the two flights of stairs. When they got to the door he took her keys and swung the door open. She walked in slowly and turned to look at him.

"Come in Spike."

He heard no hesitation in her voice, no fear. Stepping in he got his first look at her apartment. The furnishings were modest but nice, well worn, each piece picked with care. They tended to be a bit eccentric, nothing matched, but everything flowed. Helping her to the sofa he stood there not quite sure what to do with himself.

"Is there anything I could get you?"

She seemed to have forgotten he was there.

"Yeah, there are some pills in a green bottle an a balm in the bathroom."

He returned quickly which said items, and a sneaky suspicion hat neither item were store bought. She quickly downed the small pills and lay back while he rubbed the dried blood from her wound as carefully as he could and then applied the pungent balm. The thought that he was a vampire nursing a witch that he had conspired to kill had not entered his mind then and hadn't until much later.

"Better?"

She smiled at him, eyes still closed.

"Much."

Taking a seat across form her, he knew he would be here for the night. She most likely had a concussion and shouldn't be alone.

"Want me to call someone luv."

"No, there's no one."

The fact that she was as alone as he was had never occurred to him. Her friends had been Red's and well he knew they were on hiatus or something.

"Guess I'll be spending the night here."

He saw her smile and listened to her breathing as the pills kicked in and she slept. The next few hours passed quickly he found a book of classics to amuse him as she slept. As dawn was approaching he covered the windows as best he could grateful that there were already heavy velvet drapes hanging