The smell of bacon woke him up. Blue eyes opened and looked at the white
ceiling. He listened, hearing her movements as she ran water. With a growl,
he turned over and buried his face in his pillow. What was she trying to do
to him? It wasn't even eight in the morning and she was already tormenting
him. Every day it was growing more difficult not to take her into his arms
and kissed her senseless. God, he was worse than some teenage boy. Going to
sleep every morning with her in his mind, her scent in the air, dreaming of
everything he wanted to do to her as he brought himself pleasure. He honestly
couldn't remember the last night he had not dreamed of her. He had almost
blown it the night before. He had said too much, let her know that he cared.
 

He had wanted her for years, long before they had become roommates. He had
been good at keeping his feelings to himself. Hell, the only reason she had
moved in with him was because she was positive that he couldn't want her.
Wouldn't it curl her hair if she ever found out just how wrong she was? When
he had only seen her for research or patrol, it had been easy. When he
started to feel like claiming her, he'd just beat someone up. Now, they would
just start arguing and snapping at each other like some old married couple as
the slayer liked to joke. They had good times, of course. The majority of
their time together was pleasant, spent in easy friendship or comfortable
silence. It was nice, being with her, sharing his life with her. Damn, but he
was pathetic.
 

A mocking smile crossed his handsome face as he sat up finally, a hand moving
over his face as he looked at the door. He could hear the microwave and knew
she was heating his blood. He laughed, wondering if he had become so
predictable. She knew that he would be up to join her for breakfast, just
like he had been for the past few months. Even after their fight last night,
all would be forgiven as the new day began. He glanced down at his sheets,
seeing the remains of his release from the night before. If he kept on going
like this, he'd need a set of sheets for each day of the week. He stood,
pulling on a pair of jeans that he had left on the floor. He looked around as
he yawned, not seeing his shirt. He could get one from his closet, but he
really didn't want to waste it. After breakfast, he'd sit with her and watch
some cartoons then he'd be back in bed for a couple more hours sleep. Yeah,
he was predictable. He went to his door, deciding to just forget the shirt.
 

Willow pulled his mug out of the microwave, setting it on the table beside
Spike's chair. She turned back to her plate, putting her toast beside the
bacon. She knew she should eat healthier, but she loved greasy bacon and
pancakes with tons of syrup. Besides, she faced demons and vampires nightly.
She figured she'd die long before her eating habits killed her. She frowned
at that morbid thought, wondering why she was so cranky. She hadn't slept
well the night before, dreaming things she couldn't remember but had her
feeling restless. Maybe it was that damn potion. Good grief, she had drank
two spoonfuls of who knew what. It had probably given her bad dreams. She
actually felt a bit relieved to understand why she had slept so poorly. The
terrible thing was that she planned to finish off the little bottle to just
to prove to herself that it was a fake.
 

She didn't feel sick, so she didn't think it would be bad to finish the small
bottle. She had to admit that, in a hidden corner of her mind, she was
curious to see if maybe Madame Ruth had been truthful, that the potion would
find her true love for her. She'd never voice those hopes, knowing she was
being silly for even thinking that some purple liquid would open her eyes to
a future of happiness and love. The real world just didn't work that way. In
the real world, she was alone. Well, she had friends but no one to hold at
night, no one to whisper to her that everything would be OK. You never
realized just how important the small things were until you lost them. Even
having a hand to hold as she walked at night would be nice. The comfort of
knowing that she was loved and cherished. She missed that. She shook her head
slightly, pushing those thoughts away as she heard a noise behind her.
Turning, she froze as her breath caught, her eyes moving over Spike as he sat
down, muttering a good morning and taking a drink from his mug of blood. She
put her plate down on the table as she slowly sat down, her eyes looking at
her food as she pushed away the attraction she felt every morning.
 

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