Disclaimer: In the grand scheme of things what I say here might matter, but as it is, I own nothing and that's more saddening than you can know.

Britpicker (and half-beta): Flanclanman!! Thanks so much for all your help! Everyone- go and read her stuff! Her fic ('A Moment of Passion') KILLED me… go read it!

Rating: R

Summary: Harry gets sent to check on a lonely and often suicidal Snape, but when he gets to Spinners End, he gets the shock of his life. I mean really- how many of you have dealt with a drunk (and very verbose) Severus Snape?

Title: Green Fairies and Mended Spirits.

Dedication: MissingEden, because she inspires me. And this fic is totally her fault. If a lot late. (I DID tell you it was coming...)


"Wait," Harry said, staring at Dumbledore as if the man were crazy, "You want me to what?" The portraits of previous Headmasters tsked at Harry's tone, but Dumbledore just smiled genially.

"I was wondering if you could be persuaded to look in on Severus today?" The Headmaster repeated softly, and Harry groaned. Plopping into a chair, he covered his eyes with his hands and slumped forward.

"Why?" Harry agonized, "Why me? What did I do to deserve this?"

Albus smiled at the younger man, and shrugged slightly. "It doesn't have to be you, of course. I imagine young Mr. Weasley would do this, or even Mr. Longbottom. As Ms. Granger is currently studying in Paris, I could not ask her."

Harry picked his head up, then dropped it back into his hands. "No, no, no, don't bother them." His voice was resigned, and for a moment he despised the fact that Dumbledore could get him to do anything. Even go and baby-sit Severus Snape on the anniversary of the Final Battle to make sure he didn't try to kill himself... again. "Gods, I don't even know why I'm agreeing to this nonsense- you know what happened the last time we were in the same room."

Harry vividly remembered his last encounter with Snape, and shuddered. Broken glass, singed carpets, and stinging words still featured prominently in his nightmares (though only when Harry was truly upset did those items come back to haunt him). Harry had spent three days in the Infirmary (he wouldn't trust St. Mungo's if it was the last Hospital on earth) recovering.

Albus folded his hands against his stomach and leaned back in his chair, relaxed now that he had gotten his way. "Yes, I remember that incident. An altercation involving flying crystal vases and Incendio's, if I am not mistaken?"

"Ha. Bloody. Ha." Harry replied, picking his head up and glaring at the Headmaster. "You know you are not mistaken. It cost me three thousand Galleons to fix Grimmauld Place, and he put me out of my house for a week because his blasted vanity was hurt." Still glaring, Harry sat upright in his seat and pursed his lips. "So while I'm still- Merlin help me- agreeing to do this for you, you know full well what happens when we get near each other."

He waited for a moment, then added, "So I'm making you pay for my health care when the bastard loses his temper at me, you conniving old man."

"You drive a hard bargain, my boy." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling like thousands of tiny stars had fallen inside, "I accept."


Harry groaned as he stood on the street outside of Spinners End. The twenty-four year old ran his fingers through his untidy hair, and groaned again. Why, oh why am I doing this? He moaned silently, I'm going to be tortured and slaughtered the moment I step foot inside this house. But Harry straightened and shoved all his cynical and depressing thoughts to the back of his mind (right next to where he kept his deepest secret) and walked across the street.

Raising his hand and knocking on the door, Harry took a deep, steadying breath. Just go in, stay for a minute, make sure he isn't killing himself, and leave. That's it, that's all you have—

His thought cut off abruptly when the door slammed open. "Get in here!" A dark voice called. Harry shivered in nervous anticipation of what might happen, fingering his wand. Finally he walked through the door, and it slammed shut behind him. Harry took in his surroundings as he followed the path of Snape's voice, and raised an eyebrow. The decorations were of fine quality, and all of it was tactful and tasteful.

Harry came to a darkened room where the only light was from a roaring fire in the hearth, half blocked by a wing-backed chair. Walking cautiously around to stand in front of the chair, Harry stared at the sight his eyes presented to him.

Severus Snape, feared Potions Master of Hogwarts, Order of Merlin First Class, member of the Order of the Phoenix, was draped across the chair. His white shirt was unbuttoned to just above his stomach, the sleeves rolled up neatly to his elbows. The shirt was mostly tucked into inky black trousers that were snug against his skin. Harry's eyes noticed that Snape's feet were bare, which was odd (the man's in his own house, he can go barefoot if he wants, Harry chided himself), and drifted back up to the older man's face.

Snape's hair was loose, framing the pale skin of his face and softening the sharp angles. He looked… relaxed, comfortable and yet... decadent. He was watching Harry with an odd expression in his eyes, and Harry just stood for a moment, unaccountably nervous. Finally Snape gestured to another chair and said lazily, "Sit, Potter." The chair banged into the back of Harry's knees, and he thudded down with a soft thunk! He glared at Snape, but stopped. His former professor was smiling- granted a sarcastic and unnecessarily sharp-edged expression- at Harry, but it was still as smile.

"Have a drink, Potter." Snape added, waving with his hand and going back to his previous position. Harry watched as the glass filled itself up with vibrant green liquid and floated over to him. Following soon after came a sugar lump, a small jug and a spoon with holes in all landing neatly in front him. Harry's eyebrows rose, but he prepared the drink expertly.

When he had finished Harry tilted back his head and swallowed, welcoming the friendly burn of the liquid as it slid down his throat. "Good quality," Harry said, gesturing with the glass. Snape nodded, and looked down at his own glass. Shrugging, he tipped back the alcohol and drained the whole glass.

"What brings you here, Potter?" the older man asked, voice not noticeably different to his normal.

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore wanted me to make sure you weren't killing yourself." Whether it was the false sense of safety provided by drinking with this fierce man, or a true desire to get the shit beaten out of him, Harry didn't know what had made that comment come out of his mouth. When Snape had fought in the Final Battle, he'd been the distraction that had given Harry is chance at Voldemort. Needless to say, the older man had almost died. And since then, he'd been trying to kill himself every anniversary. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Snape thought he'd served his purpose in this life, and was ready for the next.

But Snape gave a careless gesture of apathy. "The old coot is still trying to run my life, I see," he said, and looked at Harry. "So why'd he send you, Potter?"

"I don't know." It was true- he really didn't. "After what happened the last time, I rather thought we'd seen the last of each other."

Harry wasn't prepared for Snape to straighten that fast, or to pin him with his formidable glare. "What?" he squeaked, and immediately tried again. "What?" There- that was better. At least he sounded like a twenty-four year old now, and not and whiny First Year.

"You... are the most vexing person I have ever met, Potter. You're the spitting image of your father, yet you have your mother's eyes. You are the Saviour of the Wizarding World, yet you hide from your celebrity. You are an adult, yet you do the bidding of a man who shouldn't have had any control over you past your last year of schooling." Severus frowned at Harry's pole-axed expression. "And you somehow managed to graduate from said school, which is yet another vexing thing about you."

Harry was stunned- this was Snape, right? Not an imposter or anything? But Snape rolled right on, oblivious to Harry's thoughts.

"Between saving the world and killing an insane Dark Lord, you managed to pass all of your classes and get above an 'E' on all of your exams your final year. I, personally, suspect that many teachers- even that dreadful Trelawney wench, thank Merlin she retired- passed you just because you were the 'Boy-Who-Lived." Snape paused, and tilted his head as he examined Harry. "Otherwise you should by all rights have failed miserably and had to retake the entire year all by yourself as your year mates went on to live life without you."

The sheer number of words fountaining from Snape's mouth made it hard for Harry to think. What was wrong with the man? And still Snape spoke.

"And your Godmutt- Merlin, Circe, and Hera help me- is still around to make my life miserable. At least the wolf can keep a leash on the bitch, and in more ways than one, I should suspect." Harry flushed furiously. Gods- he really didn't need to hear this. "And what with Lupin forcing me to make that dreadful potion every month-"

"Snape!" Harry cut in a bit desperately, not caring that he'd probably get hexed. "Dear Merlin, how much have you had to drink?"

Snape frowned thoughtfully. After a moment he turned to Harry. "Three bottles?" he said meditatively. "I think?"

For a second Harry gaped like a carp. Three bottles of ABSINTHE? "Um, okay," Harry said slowly, "don't you think you should stop now?"

Snape shook his head. "No, Potter. Why on earth should I? I have handled far more than this quantity before, and been none the worse for it. Perhaps you should start drinking, so you do not feel the need to be so noble about the level of alcohol I consume."

"Well, you certainly don't sound drunk," Harry muttered, and Snape relaxed into his chair.

"I am positively sloshed, Mr. Potter." Snape hastened to assure him, lifting his magically-refilled glass to his lips and draining the liquid. "I am merely able to retain my oral faculties while in an inebriated state, Mr. Potter." Harry banished the images from his mind at Snape's words, and concentrated on not blushing. "I am also somewhat of a lucid drunk," Snape mused, running the fingertip of one long pointer around the edge of his glass. "I tend to remember everything that happens to me while I am in this state, Potter."

An evil grin slid onto Snape's face, and he stated slyly, "You should watch your mouth, as I am sure to remember this conversation in the morning." Harry groaned slightly- as if his day hadn't been bad enough! Now to add a drunk and unaccountably verbose Snape into the mix!

He shuddered.

"On the other hand, Potter," Snape continued, "you should probably try to get information out of me anyway, as it is only tomorrow that I will realize what I have said." To Harry's eternal astonishment, a small chuckle slipped from between Snape's lips. "And you could be far enough away by then that I may see no point in chasing you to cut out your entrails and use them in a potion."

"Would you really?" Harry asked, fascinated despite himself.

"What, Potter? Chop you up and use you as a base for a Dark Potion? Most assuredly. You see, when creating a Darks Arts potion, one must incorporate the strongest ingredients one has on hand. And as most Dark potions require samples of human matter, and you are here and the most powerful Wizard in the area, it would be an easy enough matter, Potter." Harry grimaced, but nodded. He had asked the question after all.

Tossing back the last of the liquid remaining in his glass, Harry stood and gave Snape a little half-bow. "I am going to be on my way now," he informed his former professor, who watched him from under hooded eyes. "I suppose I will see you again at some point."

"I suppose, Potter. Seeing as how I can never get away from you." Snape's voice had changed- instead of being animated and interesting it was now dull and toneless. Harry wondered at the change, but turned and walked away. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he nearly missed Snape's whispered, "I don't want to be alone."

Harry paused by the entrance to the sitting room, one hand clenched on the door. Dear gods and fallen-frickin-angels why did Snape have to use that tone of voice?! Harry suspected the man didn't even realize he had spoken aloud, but it didn't matter to Harry. Merlin help him, but he'd do anything for Snape if the older man used that tone of voice. He dithered for a moment more, then sighed, and resigned himself to a night with Snape. And however much he would have liked an actual night with Snape, he guessed that this would be an acceptable substitute.

Shedding his jacket and hanging it up on a coat rack, Harry popped the first buttons on his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, kicking off his shoes as he did so. Going back to his chair, Harry sprawled across it and ignored Snape's look.

"What makes you think that I will tolerate you treating my priceless furniture with such disrespect, Potter?" Harry grinned calmly at the older man, and waved a stocking-ed foot at Snape.

"You wanted company, and I was here, so here I am. If you don't like it, I'll leave." Snape harrumphed, but dropped the subject.

"Tell me about your life, Potter." he commanded, and Harry laughed in surprise.

"What's there to tell?" the younger man said as he rubbed his reclaimed glass between his palms, "All of it is plastered across the front pages of the Prophet." Snape grunted.

"Tell me about Ms. Weasley, then," Snape said, "I heard there were wedding bells in the air."

Harry snorted into his drink, surprised at the turn the conversation had taken. But, well, what did he have to lose? He wasn't ashamed of anything he'd ever done. "We had been going out, you are correct, on and off until last year. Though she is still trying to get back with me, I broke if off completely because I just didn't harbour the same feelings for her that she did for me." Snape looked up, his interest captivated, and Harry sighed. "I found out that I was gay, and she was pressuring me into a marriage at the same time as she was trying to get me into bed with her." Harry paused, then added thoughtfully, "Actually, now that I think on it, she was probably trying to get pregnant so she could trap me."

Snape let a twisted smile grow on his face as he listened to Harry's story. "I am glad you came to your senses then, Potter." Harry ignored the use of his last name (though the repetitiveness was getting to him) and nodded. Snape went on. "Though I could have told you that in your 7th year." Harry glanced up at him, surprised. "Yes," Snape said smugly, "I knew all about your little fling with Ms. Weasley that year."

Harry blushed. No matter that it had been six years ago, memories of that fiasco still got to him. And for some reason, he felt the need to enlighten Snape as to the actual happenings of that year. "It wasn't what everyone thought it was, you know." Snape snorted, and Harry raised a brow. "I'm serious. At the time, Ginny was only going out with me to keep the attention off of someone else, and she knew that. It was her fat mouth that made it seem more than it was."

"You will tell me who you were covering for, Potter." Snape's request was a command, one Harry knew better than to disobey.

"Yeah- Dean was going out with Theo, Ron was dancing around Pansy, and Draco tried to talk himself out of falling for Hermione." Snape stared, then snorted. After a second of struggling with himself, and Harry wondering if the man was alright, Snape lost it. A deep, rolling laugh emerged from his throat, and stunned Harry. The sound echoed in the small room, and Harry bathed in the comforting- totally unexpected- sound coming from his host's throat.

Finally Snape settled down, with the occasional deep chuckle emerging from deep within. After a moment, he was calm enough to glance at Harry and ask, his voice still full of laughter, "That's why Lucius and Narcissa keep threatening to disown the boy?" Another few moments of laughter, and Snape added, "Oh, this is too good."

"Yes, that's why. They got engaged three months ago, and as soon as 'Mione's out of her apprenticeship they're getting married." Harry grinned as Snape smiled widely and shook his head in disbelief. Harry liked this Snape- the funny, verbose, unafraid-to-let-his-feelings-show Snape- and wondered if anything could ever come of it. But no- Snape would never go for someone half is age, even if they could manage to have one civil conversation.

They settled into silence for a few minutes after the revelation of Draco and Hermione's upcoming nuptials, and Harry finished his glass. Playing with the delicate glass idly, he studied the older man. Though most would say that he was too old for Harry, or too ugly, Harry didn't see it that way.

He saw a scarred man with a horrible past, certainly, and he also saw the sarcastic, sadistic brute who could made any of his students cry with a mere glance, but he also saw the hidden Snape. The Snape who had given almost everything so he could correct his past mistakes. The Snape who could laugh with a one-time student over the fate of another of his students. The Snape who walked around his house barefoot and had to drink absinthe to loosen up. The Severus that Harry was in love with, and the Severus that might possibly return his feelings.

Snape shifted, and Harry glanced at him quizzically. The older man looked towards the fire, and said in a funny voice, "I thought I taught you Occulmency." At first the meaning of this statement didn't dawn on Harry, but as he thought about it, he understood.

And he felt no shame that Snape might have- did- read his thoughts, but there was a slow contentment in the bottom of his stomach that warmed him up. "You did." He replied, and watched Snape for anything.

Harry waited patiently for a response, and Snape finally said, "You must be lying."

Harry shook his head. "No. No I wasn't. And you can actually enter my mind if that's what it takes to make you believe me."

Snape was silent. But then he lifted his gaze and met Harry's and in a flash, Harry was looking at Snape's memories.

Harry in class, in the Ministry, in the park, with Ginny and Hermione and Ron and Neville and Draco, in the Infirmary, in Grimmauld Place, in the middle of battle, in Snape's sitting room, everywhere. Talking to Dumbledore about getting into the fight with Harry three years ago, trying to dissuade the boy's crush. And then dreams floated by, vivid dreams where Harry was the main star and Severus the co-star

Harry fell out of Severus' eyes as the older man gently forced him out. He stared at Severus, and stood. Walking over to the other man, Harry took the shot glass out of elegant fingers and cupped the man's' chin. Severus stared back fearlessly, wrapping one hand around the wrist of the hand holding his chin, and waited.

Harry searched the face before him silently, wondering if this was what Severus really wanted. But he bent down and pressed his lips to Severus' softly, so that they were barely touching. Severus moaned beneath him, and thin lips moved below Harry's- demanding more. Harry slid his tongue across Snape's lower lip, and moaned as the older man's mouth opened for him. Slipping his tongue into the burning cavern that was Snape's mouth, Harry explored.

He could still taste the absinthe that they had been drinking, but overwhelming it was the intoxicating flavour that was purely Snape. Almost unconsciously- his mind was entirely focused of the man beneath him- Harry straightened Snape's legs and straddled him. He gasped as their groins rubbed together, pulling away briefly to stare down at Snape. His former Professor was looking back, eyes half lidded and skin flushed. Harry bit back another moan at the sight of Snape's reddened lips, and met onyx eyes openly.

Snape put down his glass and stood, Harry falling off of his lap at the unexpected motion. Walking towards the door and leaving the young man confused and hurt, Snape left.

Harry stared at the empty door, wondering how he had managed to bullocks up something that Snape had in essence started. He stood slowly, and started to gather his things. A sound at the doorway made him turn, however, and he stared as Snape looked at him.

"Aren't you coming… Harry?" The older man asked, his voice deep and husky. Harry dropped his things carelessly and followed Snape- Severus (if he can call me Harry I can call him Severus…)- upstairs. Severus led them to a bedroom that Harry assumed was the Master Bedroom, and shut the door behind them. Turning to the younger man, Severus allowed his eyes to take in Harry's appearance.

Finally meeting Harry's eyes again, he swallowed and said softly, "Will you stay with me?" He looked away, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks as Harry's eyes widened. Harry licked his lips at the images that flashed through his skull, and cleared his throat.

"Are you sure?"

Severus pinned him with an icy glare. "If I had not been sure, Potter, I would not have asked. If I a-" Whatever Severus had been about to say was cut off by warm lips pressed to his and Harry pushing up against him. Severus wrapped his arms around the younger man, and held him close as the kiss heated and deepened. As they stumbled towards the bed, Harry blessed Dumbledore for making him check in on Severus.


A moan forced it's way out of Severus' throat as he opened his eyes, hissing as the sun hit them and shutting them immediately. The warm weight at his back stirred and stilled, and the arm thrown across his waist tightened its hold on him. Severus stared down at the arm, sleepily wondering why an arm should be there, and damning his hangover. He lay still for a moment as he let his body wake up slowly, pondering the fact that he was blissfully relaxed.

A movement from behind him caught his attention, and he turned his head to see what was there. A tousled mop of inky hair emerged, followed by vibrant green eyes and full lips that curved into a smile as they saw Severus was awake. The Potions Master frowned, wondering why Harry Potter was in his bed, and sucked in a sudden breath as he remembered last night.

Flashes of golden skin and green eyes and black hair filled his vision, and he twisted in Harry's grasp to sit up. Hissing again as his hangover bashed his brain, Severus stared down at the younger man and said, "What the hell happened?" Harry frowned, and removed his arm from Severus' waist, and very carefully scooted away.

"You don't remember anything?" Harry asked, his voice expressing his dejection and hurt.

Severus shook his head slightly, trying to clear his fuzzy brain, and replied, "I remember, but why the hell am I this hung-over?" Harry's expression cleared, and he smiled wryly.

"You had already had three bottles of Absinthe by the time I arrived, and I think you managed to down another before we came up here." Severus shook his head in bewilderment. How was it that he could clearly remember every detail of their conversation and lovemaking, but not how much he had to drink? And speaking of…

"Did we really…?" he asked with a blush that only intensified as he recalled last night.

Harry nodded, and Severus raised a brow. "And did I actually let you-?" Harry nodded again, and Severus frowned. "And I liked being…?"

Harry shrugged with a grin on his face, and explained, "You are a very pushy bottom, but yes. You liked it." Severus thought about that for a moment, then shrugged.

"I don't really remember last night, now that I think about it." Harry raised the sceptical brow this time, and Severus said defensively, "I just think that we should try it again." Harry had a smile growing on his face, and Severus added, "Just so I can see if I actually like it. There's no need for me to take you at your word."

Harry grinned as he pulled Severus down on top of him. "Oh, no. You must always experiment with these things."

Epilogue

-- Six Months Later--

"Harry," Ginny whined, tugging on his sleeve and pouting, "Why did you have to invite him?" Harry sighed as he removed her hand from his sleeve, and turned to Ron and Hermione for help. His two best friends just shrugged as if to say 'you deal with her', and turned back to their own dates. Draco wrapped his arm around his wife of one month and sent Harry a large smirk at his predicament.

Pansy and Ron were totally ignoring him, and Harry groaned as he realized no one was going to help him. After almost seven years of constant whining, everyone was tired of her complaining and bitching. Molly looked on with a raised eyebrow, as if she was daring Harry to do something wrong.

Christmas with the 'family' fuckin' sucks, Harry thought viciously, and wished fervently that Severus were here. But the older man had refused to go to- in his words- 'a party hosted by imbeciles and attended by the same.' Harry returned his attention to the still-whinging ginger, and gently pushed her away.

"Ginny." He began, his voice firm and unyielding. "I invited Severus because I wish him to be here." He paused as others began to watch the confrontation, and added, "But as he is not here, I do not see why you're complaining. You are the only one in your family to have a problem with my relationship, and I'm becoming disgusted by it. Either you leave me alone for good, or you will grow used to the fact that Severus is a part of my life."

Harry sighed as vapid blue eyes gazed up at him in Hero-worship, obviously not taking in a word of what he was saying. "Excuse me," he said as he walked away, trying to contain the urge to throttle the younger girl. He frowned at Draco, and said, "Bunch of help you are, blondie." But Draco just smirked, and shrugged.

"What did you want me to do, hmm? Go over there and kiss you to make the bint believe you're gay?"

Harry was about to respond when a dark voice cut in. "There will be no kissing of Potters unless it is by me." Harry grinned up at Severus as the black haired man appeared, and snuggled under the arm that was suddenly wrapped around his shoulders.

"I didn't think you were going to come!" Harry exclaimed happily, ignoring Draco and Hermione's amused glances. Severus snorted and gazed archly down at Harry before shooting a dark glare over to the youngest Weasley.

"Apparently it was a good decision on my part, seeing as how you cannot even be rid of an old girlfriend properly." Severus snorted, then looked down at Harry in sudden interest. "Though my Godson may have hit upon an ingenious solution to our problem." Harry grinned up at the taller man, and licked his lips suggestively. Severus tightened his grip on Harry's shoulders, and lowered his head, watching Ginny out of the corner of his eye. When the red-head noticed the closeness of the two men her face darkened and she began to make her way over to Harry, no doubt to try and 'save' him from the lecherous old man.

Harry wrapped his arms around Severus' neck and pulled the Potions Master towards him, meeting the thin lips for an enthusiastic kiss. Severus deepened it, and soon Harry was moaning and writhing against the taller man, hitching himself as close as he could to the strong form hidden beneath billowing robes. His friends were laughing and wolf whistling, and Harry broke away from Severus to stare into the dark and hooded eyes.

"I think I've had enough of Christmas cheer for this year, don't you?" Harry whispered, and Severus tugged him closer as Ginny came near them. Even as the girl began to ask Harry loudly why he 'let that bastard do those things to you', Harry Summoned his cloak and turned to listen in on Severus' response.

"I may do anything I like to my fiancé, Ms. Weasley, and I damn well will." Harry grinned as Severus wrapped his arms back around his shoulders and Apparated them to his house. Spinners' End was blessedly silent after the ruckus that had been the Weasley Household, and Severus pressed another heated kiss to Harry's lips.

"Mmm, 'fiancé,'" Harry said as he cuddled into Severus' arms. "I like the sound of that."

"Did you or did you not ask me to marry you last night?" Severus demanded, and Harry grinned up at him through heated eyes.

"Of course I did, but to hear you say it…" Harry paused and licked his lips. "…it's incredible." Harry drew Severus down for another kiss, and Apparated them to their bedroom. He began to undress Severus, ignoring the older man's attempts to help, and pushed the naked man back onto the bed. Crawling after him, still fully clothed, Harry kissed his way up to Severus' lips and stretched out on top of him.

"Now," he began, eyes sparkling wickedly as Severus tried not to whimper at the feel of Harry's rough clothing against his naked skin, "how to return the favour?" Severus gasped as Harry began to nibble on his skin, tasting here and there as though the older man were a buffet set out for his own enjoyment. Harry chuckled as Severus gasped and moaned and writhed beneath him, and smiled against the pale, pale, skin.

Oh, how he loved this man.


Hello! Look- I'm on Hiatus and yet I still provide you with yummy Snarry Smut! -SHHHHHH!!- Don't tell anyone I'm back! It would ruin my credibility as a FanFiction junkie who can stay away from her computer for more than three days!

La, but here you go! And only one more week before I'm back on with TTTBind... lucky, lucky you... XD

So... it's not very smutty, but it's fluffy and adorable, no? I hope you've enjoyed it! And really- go and check out Flanclanman's stuff- excellente!

Ta for now...

Netrixie