Spike aligned his toes with the border between shadow and light. For a moment he hesitated, still a little afraid of it. Afraid there would be pain, burning… god, he knew what that felt like more than anyone, didn't he? He stepped out.
For a moment, his mind stood still. There was only his beating heart, on the inside, and the sunlight, touching him all over his outside. It was like tasting something you'd never had since childhood… like regaining a sense you'd thought lost. Somewhat overwhelmed, and alarmed by his urge to giggle like a schoolgirl, Spike sat down suddenly on the stairs. Everything was new. The flowers were open! At night, they were always closed. He couldn't believe he cared about that, but it turned out he did. There was so much warmth, more than he could ever remember feeling, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was like his mum… when he was little. It felt like when he'd snapped at her (it had happened, once or twice) as a rash young thing, only to have her pick him up again and hold him close… back in her good graces.
He squinted, looking up in the sky, then looked too closely at the sun and got his eyes all burnt-feeling. He swore mentally. Maybe he wasn't exactly back in the good graces, but he was close enough. Absorbed in thought, he forgot to breathe for a moment.
What was that tight pain?
Oh yeah. He started it up again. He'd have to watch that.
Someone was behind him. He'd only just noticed; human hearing and sense of smell were unfortunately dull. He turned; Illyria.
"Oh," he cleared his throat. "Hey there." She/He/It stared at him. "So…" he looked in his/her/its eyes, slightly aback. "You won then, I take it?"
"The half-breed's son joined us, and the warrior woman." Illyria explained. Then her/his/it's eyes narrowed. "She has a bond with… Angel." He followed Illyria's glance back inside the hotel, suddenly terrified that Buffy had been here the whole time and he hadn't known. He was relieved to see Angel with Faith, looking rather chummy.