"What in Bloody, buggerin' Hell!"

- by Drookit Duck

Spike awoke to find himself in the familiar surroundings of his Crypt. Next to him, lay a girl. He didn't recognise her. She seemed small...brown hair...his sense of smell hadn't returned properly yet from his night of drunken antics. He must've picked her up last night. Spike had a way with women when he was totally rat-arsed. And totally drunk-face he had most certainly been last night (courtesy of a disgarded purse and 180 inside it). The drowning of the sorrows with some other sod's cash was one of the very few pleasures Spike had left in this once lush world full of 'Happy Meals On Legs'.

The girl moaned in her sleep and moved, still with her back to him. Had he been without the chip, he would have killed her. No such luck for Spike. It was about then, when his mind threatened to delve back into the pitts of self pity once again, that Spike suddenly became aware that the girl's small moan of sleepiness had been awfully deep for a young girl.

Cold dread ran through the vampire and he suddenly found himself going through the various, horrific possibilities. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and leaned over for a better look at his sleeping companion. Damn it. Her long dark hair masked her face.

Spike let his eyes go out of focus, trying to rid himself of the nagging thought that some of the hair covering her face could, in fact, be facial hair.

The person lying next to him then rolled over. Relief swam through Spike like warm water as he realised that the face was, in fact, female. However, this feeling was soon replaced by cold, hard shock as he recognised the young face as none other than Dawn Summers!

Spike suddenly felt very ill. How could he? It was the Little Bit for Gawd's sake! What would Buffy say? What would Buffy do! Little did he know that this final question was to be answered.

"Dawn! What are you doing" Buffy demanded sternly of her sister. Dawn's eyes flickered open to meet her sister's.

"Sleepin'. Or at least...I was" came the yawnful remark.

"I...uh...I - can..." Spike realised he was stuttering. He lokked at Buffy...The Slayer. That title alone gave her the perfect excuse to stake him. Now he was dead for sure!

"I can explain" he said.

The Slayer looked puzzled"Explain"

Now it was SApike's turn to be confused"Yeah...I-I think...'bout the Little Bit."

Dawn was sitting up.

"And what were you doing in bed with a 'dangerous vampire'" Buffy asked her sister, removing her hands from her hips to accentuate the 'dangerous vampire'.

"I was cold on the floor. And it was hard and sore." Dawn said"Well duh. Cold. Stone. Floor. The bed looked comfy."

Now Spike was really confused. He noticed Buffy's crumpled clothes and slightly (although not much) fuzzy hair. Had he gotten seriously drunk and scored with both the Summers girls:) Nah. I should be so Bloody lucky. he thought to himself.

"Why? How? What the bleedin' hell"

Buffy frowned at him. "Last night, Spike. We all crashed here. There was a fight... it wasn't safe at my house. Don't you remember"

"Well, he was a little drunk..." Dawn intervened.

Spike rubbed his temple. He must've been more rat-arsed than he'd imagined. Just then Xander and Anya plodded in followed by a disgruntled-looking Giles.

"Spike, you really do need some more comfortable furnishings." Giles complained.

"You're just lucky you got the sofa." Xander groaned hands on his back.

"Yes, you moany librarian. Don't complain." Anya snapped. A groan from elsewhere marked the presence of a weary Willow.

Spike lay back down and went back to sleep. Life made more sense there.