A Wooded Future

by
Josie_H

Part Ten

Spike placed his charge on the soft sawdust of the tree’s internal floor, kissed his silent partner who touched the wall of the Mother and the opening returned. Spike sprinted to the tiny lake, collecting a jar of very dead flowers from a grave on the way past. Tossing the wilted and dry collection, he rinsed then filled the jar with water and returned to the tree.

Xander’s own desperate tears had slightly cleansed the tiny figure cradled in his hands, Harry’s lovely friend Michael’s broken wing and misshapen leg, a brutal reminder of the destruction that the whole tiny community had suffered earlier.

Spike’s return was marked by the sound of wood meshing and the tiniest inhalation from the badly damaged Harry.

Spike tore the bottom from his shirt then split it in two. He passed one piece to Xander and dipped the other into the clean, though rather cold water. There was nothing to be done about the temperature, but thankfully both little charges were semiconscious at best and were cleaned with delicate strokes.

Once cleaned, Xander carefully set each broken limb and damaged section of wing while Spike licked over them with healing vampire saliva mixed with blood from his own tongue. As they finished settling their two tiny patients, Xander allowed his own grief ridden tears to drop onto the reset limbs, setting as a thick amber-like encasement.

A day later, the lovely pale yellow Lily was admitted to the inner sanctum by the tree. She fluttered past the two sleeping saviors, and delivered the nectar of six different flowers to her injured relatives. She sat with each of the stricken faeries, feeding them from a thimble slowly. She sat for a time stroking her older cousin Harry’s pretty gossamer wings, they were still so tattered and broken. He had always been the one to save the day…

Lily still had Harry’s silver blue head in her lap as she looked over to Michael. He was twenty years her younger and yet had been so loyal and brave in such a desperate time. He was perfect for Harry, of that, Lily had no doubt. Passionate and loyal, Michael may have been ridiculously young on a chronological level, but his heart was huge and his devotion to her dear older cousin, unwavering.

She sent a silent prayer to Mother Earth and the Higher Powers of all dimensions. Her wishes were not just for the cousin and partner, but for their whole clan, and for their two saviors.

She looked down at the sleeping nymph and his partnered vampire who had so nobly assisted them, “Oh Harry… You have to come back to us… You both have to come back! My darling Harry, what you did was wonderful… He’s wonderful… I just want you to know that…”

Xander stirred as the little faerie gave an audible sob. He turned toward her and whispered confidently, “Leave them here – it will be fine.” Then added, “Come as often as you like OK?”

Lily smiled weakly but was relieved that she was permitted to at least visit and check up.

Dawn learned of the desperate situation early the second evening after the destruction as Spike made a weak excuse for not doing patrol.

She collected all manner of supplies ‘just in case’. The wide medical dressings of cotton wool encased in soft absorbent covering made perfect beds for the two invalid faeries.

Harry returned to consciousness late on the third evening and immediately gave a rather rasped call for Michael. He could hear a second faerie’s breath but when he made to move, found himself utterly unable to move. His wings seemed to be stuck to something, his legs ached in the most dreadful way and refused to move, and he couldn’t see out of one eye nor breathe through his nose. When he tried to lift his hand to wipe his face and was unable to move either arm, he cried out, first with frustration then distress.

Spike moved swiftly to drip healing blood into the faerie’s mouth. It was followed by fluid from the Mother herself as a frond descended to sustain the tiny faes in her charge.

Michael was in a little better state. At least it was only one arm, a collar bone and single wing that had been broken. Nevertheless he was very young and was given equal attention to his dear Harry.

It was apparent that Harry and Michael had been enjoying each other’s company when the first sounds of doom began. Neither had hesitated, their arousal instantly translating to the faerie equivalent of adrenalin. Harry had kissed his beautiful Michael passionately then the younger faerie bravely followed his heroic lover into the doomed thicket.

They had rescued eight tiny faeries, two nests of finches and a whole family of field mice before the angry talons of the front end loader scraped the last of the thicket from the ground. It crushed the healthy greenery under a mound of scoured dirt and the faeries with it.

A frantic Lily had followed the heavy machinery, desperately digging through the pile of debris to find her wonderful cousin and his young friend. The relief that they were still somewhat alive meant the call, and the help of the clan. But their recovery was still doubtful. Both had damaged wings and multiple injuries.

It was the fourth night Lily had waited for news at the base of the tree. She was rewarded by Spike emerging looking tired but happy.

“Hey Pet. Boy’s are both awake. Ol’ Harry asked if ya wouldn’t mind sorting a couple of bottles of mead from Willie’s. ‘pparently he has an account?!”

Lilly was so overjoyed she took off, did one vertical loop then without thinking landed on Spike’s pretty face in a broad hug. Her wings held her firm as she ran a line of tiny kisses over his scarred eyebrow and down over the eyelid, all the while stroking the elegant nose and cheekbone and intermittently whispering her thanks.





It was close to four weeks before the two faerie heroes were fully restored. Spike and Xander appreciating Spike’s literary bent and love of the spoken word as Harry insisted that his boredom be assuaged by the baritone and various readings of the classics in Spike’s possession to pass the time as his and Michael’s wings repaired.

Finally one evening, the now brittle bindings broke and despite Harry’s still healing legs, the two faeries coupled in flight in full view of the nymph and vampire. Harry caught Spike’s eye and winked.

“Come on! Bit of audience participation!”

With the combination of feeding, the two little faeiries were both completely healed in just under a month. Their heroism and the events thereafter, however, would become spoken legend.






Dawn visited as often as she could, and Spike kept patrolling at least three or four times a week, but summer was always going to be a hard time – shorter night hours meant less time together and the balmy evenings saw many humans out and about.

Spike was a little reluctant to follow Dawn’s instructions to ‘just scare them off – or have a nibble on a few of them!” Issues of the chip notwithstanding, drawing attention to himself – or their particular cemetery - was not really on the agenda.

As a consequence there was much love making done high in her canopy – one particular fork being the favorite spot and likely to bear the scars of Xander’s finger and toe nails as he embedded them in the tree to steady himself as Spike took him. The Mother Tree understood and simply bore the minor discomfort.

In the third month of the “…driest summer on record” (according to news reports), it was ridiculously hot for five days straight. Spike noticed his friend’s wilting locks and distress, so decided to take matters into his own hands.

Going to the tiny lake, he swiftly decided it was not an option for Xander’s therapy. The water nymphs were none too happy with the humans who normally tended their lake as the ‘through’ water had been cut off due to some plumbing mishap when building a new reception rooms a fortnight previous. As a consequence their lake was fast becoming dark green and of more concern, drying out. Testimony to the sudden receding of the water was the rancid smell of dying lake weed and the departure of some of the larger water fowl. Spike made a mental note to talk to Dawn – the lake was one project her UC Sunnydale ‘wildlife concern’ group could tackle.

Spike went to the thicket and found Harry who was frantic. With many of the flowers dropping in the dry heat, there was little for the faeries to eat. They had taken to roaming farther and farther afield to try to locate sources of food and drink, but were finding that all fae in the region were struggling and very atypical territorial squabbles were beginning to become nasty.

The city council had put water restrictions into place, limiting the watering of the domestic gardens and the cemetery grounds. Sunnydale had consequently seen much of the grass turn a yellowy brown by mid summer and the annuals that formed the pretty display in most gardens, simply whither and die. The heat wave was a serious threat to life.

Spike urged Harry to gather his group and ensconce themselves at the base of the Mother tree, rather than spend time higher. He then spent an entire evening (and a considerable amount of Dawn’s money) purchasing some key items to provide his favorite fae with much needed ‘water on tap’.

He filled a large garden pump pack (normally used to spray weeds) with water from a resident’s tap just on the outskirts of the cemetery. He pumped it hard then hooked it up on a branch like an old fashioned camp shower high in the Mother Tree and flicked in to ‘spray’.

The ensuing mist received an ecstatic applause and a chorus of giggles and squeals of delight as the little faeries romped in the shower. Xander grinning broadly as he observed their dear Harry trying to convince Michael that licking the purple faerie's wings clean was 'tradition'. Michael, to his credit, acquiesced to the requirement though Xander did note that the reciprocations slipped rather lower than the space between two wings.

When Michael winked at Xander, the two younger partners exchanged a conspiratorial grin and Michael made Harry groan first with pain, then with want.

Michael knew that since their serious injuries, his marvelous Harry had a couple of sore spots on his wings, and at least one near his left knee. The deep scar across the faerie's torso was also testimony to the blue fae's heroism. But their recouperation had also allowed Michael to explore just what pleased his wonderful friend and he applied the knowledge liberally.

Harry gave in to the joyous attentions and finally admitted that faeries could sweat!

Spike made four more trips for refills that night (and many more in the following weeks) – the final one for Xander’s benefit.

‘Water boy’ Spike found himself hard and wanting as his lover’s body glistened with the moisture and an adoring smile of thanks promised a physical reward later. He was not disappointed.

Dawn arrived the following day with three of her university friends to ‘tend the lake’, along with a team of reporters who would go on to have great fun with ‘Dying lake in a place of the dead’ type buy lines. The very pretty young women in white overalls (supplied by the local hardware store) began the rather smelly task of scraping up the dead weed and collecting two putrid duck carcasses.

Dawn acquitted herself extraordinarily well in the interview and looked stunning on camera as she spoke passionately of the impact the drought was having on local flora and fauna; emphasized the heritage value of many of the large old trees; and pointed out the resting places for a couple of the significant (very dead) residents.

A tanker of water was forthcoming the following day, and a local plumbing franchise jumped at the chance for some cheap publicity – fixing the water feature pump (used to circulate and filter the water) in hours.

A week later, Dawn received a call from the local television station offering her an internship immediately – even though her studies of journalism had been restricted to critiquing styles and editorial writing in literature classes.

The heat waves came and went for the next six weeks – all the way into the first month of Autumn, then the weather broke. A sudden drop of temperature and repeated deluges signaled the change of season.

Part Eleven

By week four of Autumn, Xander remembered the feeling… but in the previous year he was still attached to her completely. Now it was odd.

He still suckled daily but knew her feeding frond contained a different mix, the more he took, the less he seemed to need, and the more tired he became. Initially he put it down to the shortening days, but now the reason was clear. His mistress was changing, her bright green hues giving way to rich yellows. He noticed his own changes as the fatigue kicked in with a vengeance.

Xander was increasingly melancholy and lethargic. Even Harry and Michael’s overt antics (for private viewings only) did not seem to raise more than a smile.

Spike noticed the change in behavior as the weeks of autumn progressed, but it was only as the Xander’s normally rich green tresses began to turn yellow that both realized what was going on. The most distress was caused by their falling off completely – it seemed that the transition from green to red to yellow to falling off was only a matter of days.

Dawn still visited almost every day and tried to be supportive, “Think of it like chemotherapy, only better! (well, sort of?!) At least you know it’s all going to grow back better than before… Ooooh! I know! Just think of it like a fashion throw out… like at the end of season… gone the old tresses, in with the new?!”

Seated on a thick root of the Xander’s tree, she looked over to Spike for support and saw only intense concern for his dear nymph. She realized for the first time just how utterly besotted the two really were. “Oh geez I’m sorry! I was just trying to be… you know… funny. OK hey… introducing ‘Foot in Mouth’ Dawn… I’m sorry Spike. The Mother Tree is doing this too right? It must be about Autumn… Why don’t you ask Harry – he’ll know. Where is Harry these days?”

“Think he’s off tryin’ to find another venue for ‘is lot this winter.”

“Couldn’t they stay at Casa del Summers? I mean… Buffy wouldn’t even know since she’s all Ms ‘I’ve got a life and work and school’ blah, blah!

“Don’t reckon the little uns do so well inside Pet. But it’s a right sweet thought. Reckon if Harry’s still pushin’ it in a week or two it might be time for you to ask again.”






As the weather closed in, Xander also did some seasonal shedding of bark (no worse than Buffy after a weekend in Hawaii as Spike pointed out… to no avail) but it was the loss of his last leaf – one from his wrist - that had him sobbing quite inconsolably. Spike realized that it wasn’t just the shedding, it was a whole system changing for the young nymph. He asked around and finally Lily filled in the gaps for the new fae vampire. All the trees and wood nymphs had apparently done the same, shutting down and storing water and nutrients for the winter ready for full hibernation. It still didn’t seem to console the upset new one.

Xander was in his usual spot at the base of the tree, ready for his nightly embrace – though the goodbyes were getting harder as the day for ‘no wake up call ‘til spring’ came closer and closer.

In reflection, Xander’s tantrum should have been expected on the last day before ‘the big sleep’.

There was no reasoning with him. He sat knees under his chin, with tummy and extremities a little swollen with vital water for the winter, wasting some of his precious fluids in tears as they dripped onto an increasingly cold earth. He drew mindless patterns in the dirt and didn’t look up as Spike made another attempt to talk.

“C’mon Pet… can’t be bad enough for tears can it?” Spike could clearly see the probable cause for distress but had hoped Xander would accept his changing state. The confused nymph accepted his partner’s bleeding wrist easily, but abruptly pulled away for apparently no reason.

“Look at me – I’m so ugly! I’m going bald… everywhere… and I’m swollen… and I’m so… tired and can’t do… You won’t want me in Spring if you remember me like this! Oh please!! Just look at me!” And Spike did… There was a slight paunch and a marginally chubbier face… and if he were honest, limbs that were a little softer and thicker than he was used to, but they both knew the reason.

Spike wrapped his arms around the distressed nymph, “You daft bugger! I’m not goin’ anywhere – you know that! You’re it for me now Luv. ‘M tied to you – willingly mind – as much as you are to her! So stop all this rot, and give us a kiss, cause we’ve got a door to make!”

In the winter months, the Mother Tree would lie dormant unable to perform the nightly ritual of giving Spike a protected place to sleep, and Xander would be in hibernation, permanently attached to her and only sentient for a few minutes a day. Spike could go to the crypt but coupled with the need to be near his partner, he really dreaded that option. He could, and would, take refuge in the warmth of the centrally heated Summer’s house occasionally, or visit Willow at the coven headquarters at the rear of the local library to get out of a chill wind before heading out on patrol, just like in the past. But now he needed, and wanted, more.

His preference was the tree, and even if Angel had quietly worried about it as an option, in truth he had made his choice months before and was increasingly drawn to his nymph partner, and (if he were completely honest) weary and happy to sleep through nights spooned at the back of his beautiful friend on the floor of their soft living abode.






It was the most vulnerable period for all the fae. The trees vulnerable as their nymphs slept, though most of the oldest trees were left alone by humans these days, the creatures that lived in their loving embrace often suffered.

The water nymphs still enjoyed their lake, though the fountain was often off and the lowered water temperature tended to leave them more inclined to sleep too.

The faeries had it hardest, particularly those who had lost their homes. The removal of Harry’s family thicket was the loss of protection from the worst of the winter winds and rain if there were no small evergreen plants around. The whole ‘hide under a mushroom’ merely a child’s tale! And sleeping outside on the Mother Tree’s branches not an option.

As a vampire, Spike adored the darker months yet really despised the cold when not in ‘good circumstances’ (i.e. Unable to find a human abode with suitable heating). He would now have the best of both worlds. Now Xander’s Mother Tree invited one of hers to find comfort in her warm soft interior, yet gave the dark one the freedom to exit and feed. The agreement was that he would also protect her and Xander as they slept in exchange for his lodging. Yet he gambled and won… Spike added one caveat to the agreement as he accepted the terms. Harry and his family would also be given sanctuary from the cold. Their thicket had been flattened at the end of summer to make way for another ‘memorial patch’, and it was rumored to be a particularly cold winter. The little ones would not survive without help.

Unlike other tree nymphs, however, he was always semi aware and able to protect tree and partner were it needed.

The tree welcomed the Spike’s decision to share some of the big sleep with his nymph partner.

Xander’s ‘before’ carpentry skills came to the fore and Jack (Harry’s older brother) praised the young nymph as the two fitted the beautiful, ‘A’ shaped door. It appeared for all the world like part of ‘Her’ at her base and had it blessed by the tree herself.

There was no handle on either side of the door rather it warmed to the touch on a particular spot and opened just enough to let a resident slip inside. The door led to two small openings within the Mother tree. The first one seemed like a strangled mish mash of roots, but on second examination made a series of beautiful individual beds and sitting areas for Harry’s kind. The second was a vaulted space padded by old sawdust and the softest of mosses, and had a strange configuration at its rear. An odd shaft, its only function was to allow Spike to ease himself into the space, then embrace his dear lover as he slept the winter away with the Mother Tree.

Xander rallied a little on the last evening of autumn, he would try hard to be a good companion to his lovely vampire and would have headed out to meet him but he was just so tired.

Spike found him sitting at the base of the Mother Tree. What were once thick tresses of new leaves on his head, were now barren stalks, even his green eyelashes were missing as were his eyebrows giving him the unhealthy look of a cancer patient from the human world. Spike didn’t care – he knew it was time, indeed felt it himself, though not as strongly and thankfully his hair had remained. They had talked about it and decided to put him to sleep for the winter in the loveliest possible way.

Spike stripped and made passionate love to him – their face to face passion audible in the already quiet trees of the cemetery should one know what to listen for. Spike rode with tears in his eyes as his beloved fell into semi-consciousness in the afterglow knowing that once fully asleep, Xander would not rouse again for close to thirteen weeks! Spike kissed him tenderly then lifted him gently and placed him close to her inner walls on the soft sawdust.

Spike watched with morbid fascination as the Mother Tree bound the nymph to her with a series of roots, finally inserting the feeding frond that would only provide sap as the weather warmed, before falling still herself.

His lovely nymph was asleep, as was the tree. The faeries ensconced next door had also fallen quiet. Spike lay down beside Xander and threw an arm over the nymph’s strong inert figure. Even this close he felt strangely alone. He rolled over his sleeping friend until his mouth found the boy’s right nipple and on cue the frond extended from its nub. Spike latched on for comfort not food and finally as one with his companion, he too slept.

Part Twelve

WINTER

Spike slipped in and out of consciousness but remained connected to Xander for five days straight before rousing fully for the first time. Gently releasing Xander, he moved to kiss the pale cheek and let himself out of the tree.

It would be the first night of many lonely ones that the vampire ventured to the Magic Box for the nightly briefing, before heading out with Buffy to patrol.

Willow noticed the odd magical feel around Spike but couldn’t quite place the signature. When she cornered Spike about it mid January, the answer made sense in a ‘not’ sort of way.

“Spike, can you come out the back for a minute?”

Spike felt a little suspicious but Buffy was still on the phone to Dawn about some homework task so he followed the witch in to Giles’ old office.

“’Sup Red?”

“Have you… been seeing someone… you know… romantically or anything lately?”

Spike had a feeling for where this was going, so wiggled an eyebrow and went on the offensive, “Why Pet? You offerin’? ‘Cause gotta say, bit o’ witch action is something I’ve missed for at least ooooh a century or so.”

The effect of the comment brought the expected response as Willow slapped him hard with an accompanied “Hey mister!! That’s not what I meant and you know it!” She turned on Spike and frowned.

“You feel… different… so??”

Spike was not ready to divulge the Xander factor, nor his own changed status quite yet so simply dropped his tone and like a teenager admitting to an illicit kiss said, “Angel ‘n me. Kind of made up Pet. ‘E came, I asked – family issues… you know… But we didn’t wanna tell the Slayer… She bein’ all settled and such. ‘M sorry if that wasn’t the right thing t’ do.” Spike’s azure blue eyes raised to meet Willow’s with such a look of concern that there was no doubt in her mind that he was sincere.

“Oh Spike! Well… um… that’s good right? So you guys are?”

“Friends again … yeah Luv, he agreed to that at least. ‘S not like old times, but there’s an understanding between us again.”

Willow dove forward and hugged the blonde. “Oh Spike that’s wonderful!”

“Yeah Pet. Unlife’s funny like that.”

Willow let him go, but in consequent weeks, the magical signature seemed to change more and more – there was definitely something going on.

Her suspicions were further raised as Spike dealt rather violently with a group of young college students who had simply set a fire under the canopy of a large tree in the cemetery closest to his Xander’s own. In full game face he had kicked over the home made brasserie (garbage can) and doused the entire group with cold water, before rushing forward, grabbing one of the biggest boys and growling into his neck then scaring them all home.

Buffy was rather stunned, though accepted the excuse that the group were in danger, after four fledges attacked them on the way out of the cemetery.






Somewhere around week ten of winter Spike pushed his way out of the tree once more. Xander’s excess water and reserves had obviously been spent, the boy as slim as ever and his no longer green, but alabaster white form, was still lying inert against his mother tree.

The frosts seemed to be over and some decent rain had cleared the air.

A rather dejected Harry was sitting on a low branch. He didn’t even look up as the vampire emerged.

Spike had woken to find himself in the mood for a good fight for the first time in weeks but paused a moment at the sight of the silver blue figure with wings collapsed. “OK Pet… What’s got you in such a mood?”

“The cold… the dark… Michael…”

“Lovers’ tiff then…”

“No! Michael’s just… asleep!! I know he’s young but… why does he…? We’ve hardly even… well you know… for nearly two weeks!”

“P’raps ya should just bed down beside the boy and enjoy those pretty wings coverin’ ya.” Spike’s tone was a little irreverent initially – but as he saw and understood Harry’s distress and discomfort regards partner struggles with the seasonal slumber, he offered his shoulder for Harry to perch on and stroked Harry’s outer wing with a familiar tenderness that surprised the little blue form.

“Listen Pet… Wanna come to me crypt for a drink and a game o’ cards.”

“Long as you’ve got mead… but there’s no way I’m trading kittens! Anyway, it’s not your crypt any more is it… You gave it to that Clem fellow.”

Spike rounded on the small faerie, noting the far more familiar smirk on the little faerie’s face and wings that were notably perky and upright, so decided to challenge the cheeky hero, “You’ve been spying on me?!!”

Harry tried to look innocent but failed dismally. “Weeellllll, OK.. yes… But what else was I to do over autumn?!”

They continued an easy banter as they headed through the cemetery to (now) Clem’s crypt.

The demon was absent, so the pair made for Willie’s Bar.






“Those right manky bastards! Bloke tries to get a drink and a decent game of kitty poker an’ next minute ‘es out on ‘is ear without even a by your leave! Can understand you but ‘e called me a bloody dryad. How would he know? ‘Aven’t told anyone but Clem ‘bout the boy, and he don’t go blabbing to anyone!”

“Spike everything is… you are changed. Spike it’s coming up for spring, you are shifting and you know it.”

“Not asleep like the lad there.”

“But you feed from him every day now.”

“’S comfort innit?!”

“Yes but he’s feeding from her now that spring is on its way. You’re pale but you’ll green up in no time. Have you checked for budding?” Harry was all but bouncing with the sudden thought.

“For what-ing?!”

“Budding… you know… buds… where flowers and leaves come from?”

“I know what a sodding bud is! And no I bloody well haven’t. Would’ve noticed if I sprouted sommit wouldn’t I.”

“You tell me Spike, you’re the one with the new points on your ears.”

“What?!!!!” Spike’s hands flew up to his head and sure enough the peak of each ear was now slightly pointed. “Oh Bloody Hell!”

Harry giggled, “I think they’re very (as you would put it) fetching – except I guess with them and the bit of a green tinge it did kind of give your secret away to your demon buddies.”

Spike growled his frustration and flicked his half smoked cigarette away. He really didn’t enjoy smoking much anymore anyway, and had began to comprehend now just why. He turned to go – but not back in the direction of the tree, and when Harry made to accompany him, Spike’s yellow eyes and fangs flashed as a threat.

“Oi, what’s that for?” Harry pouted his hurt feelings.

Spike shrugged on his duster properly before sniffing hard and pursing his lips with resolve, but the reply was a little more conciliatorily, “You’re not comin’ ‘cause ‘m a vampire Pet – just gotta … go kill sommit… remind meself is all.”

Harry stopped all pretense of teasing. He suddenly understood so hovered and watched as the swirl of black leather disappeared into the night.





A week later, Dawn went away for a pre spring break leaving Spike with some issues regards purchasing blood for the next two weeks. He worried a little until he fed exclusively from Xander who was attached and feeding from his tree, for three days straight. There were no cravings or hunger for blood and Spike began to understand that the red ambrosia would now only form part of his diet.

He sat on the floor of their abode and picked at the sleeves of his duster quietly contemplating everything that had changed in the last year when he felt the first of them. The vampire tore off his coat and examined his wrists. He had never had a blemish there before yet now there were definitely five lumps… no buds on one wrist and six on the other.

He panicked more and tore off all his clothes and spent the next hour examining every inch of his body. As far as he could tell he only had the wrist circles and a few bumps just over his tail bone and in the nape of his hair and one or two on his ankle. He thoroughly checked his nether regions for moss – but thankfully, all looked and felt normal in that department. His celebratory hand job was cut short, however as amorous noises from a nearby dent in her inner walls gave away two mischievous faeries who had been watching but were now gleefully engaging in their own private ‘relations’.

Michael was lying on the ground wings spread like some silk bed in a harem, hands tucked under his knees pulling them back while Harry kissed and filled him. Harry’s wings had deepened in color to a dark blue and were undulating gently in time with their lovemaking.

Spike leaned against the opposite wall of her inner sanctum and recommenced his private activity whilst watching the two pretty forms climax together joyfully then fall quiet in the afterglow. Spike came just after they did, catching the spendings in his Tshirt so as not to soil the sleeping area. He realized then, it was the first time he had given in to those urges since Xander fell asleep.

Harry rolled over and grinned at their fae vampire then whispered a sated. “Inspiring… same time next week?”

“Cheeky bugger” was his only reply, before Spike too gave in to a post coital nap.

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