AN: Everyone is human. Though this basically stars Spike and Dawn... Spike kidnapped Dawn and things are happening. Enjoy.


"Do you have any fucking Advil?" she groaned, trying to ignore the jack hammering in her brain. Her hangover was eating away at her brain, taking tiny bites of her gray matter and spiting them back out into her skull. She needed relief.

"Yeah, pet. Hold on," he stated.

Spike put down his toast that he was eating and got her what she needed. He, also, was suffering the consequences of his drinking, but sympathy grew inside him when he noticed her pale features and tiny eyes. She must have threw up everything she drank.

"Thanks," and she swallowed four Advil greatfully.

Falling into the chair, she rested her head upon her arms. Dawn couldn't get flashes of her dream from invading her brain. One was of Spike kissing her. Another was him kissing her cuts. She couldn't remember anything after her ninth or seventh or elleventh shot. She didn't even remember how she got to bed!

"What, like uh. What happened last night?" she asked while fiddling around with a piece of her hair. She was scared of the answer.

He knew he had to censor everything because he couldn't handle letting her know that her latest cuts on her arm was because of him.

"Drank until you passed out, then I carried you to bed."

She nodded with a sigh of relief.

"THat must have been some dream then," she murmered to herself, though Spike still heard her. He gave a satisfied smirk-she's dreamed of him. For some reason, he got a smile from that.

Dawn got quiet and he could tell she was thinking something.

"Um, Spike," she wearily started in a small voice, biting her lip.

"Yes, platelet?"

"What's going to happen... I mean, like, if my dad doesn't contact you and doesn't give you any money, what's going to happen to me?"

He thinned his lips and gave her a thoughtful look. He never really thought about it before. Never really thought about her leaving before. She had been with him for over a month.

"Not sure, 'bit. Never thought about it. But not gonna kill you."

He got up and fixed her a bowl of soup.

"Hurt your arm?" he innocently asked while giving her the soup.

"Huh?"

"You're nursing your arm like your hurt it."

"Oh, I just slept on it wrong. Damn alcohol," she nervously chuckled.

"Right," he commented and took another bite of his cold toast.

He was just waiting for her to tell him.


This was a bad/short chapter, I know.But I'm really stuck on chapter 17. I need ideas on how to get their "romance" started. Pllllllease give me ideas! R&R.