Soldierboy and the Big Bad useless at helping Buffy.

[railroad_spike]

Soldierboy and I had come to an understanding of bloody sorts. We had come to the understanding that bygones were bygones. He had his wife, who died and now, he seemed to somehow have two slayers that are attracted to him, and me...well, I have Buffy now, except that I don't

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[finn_rileyfinn]

I didn’t want to be up here long, but I told Melissa and Leah, as Spike annoyingly looked in on them that Connor was sorry for what he did and says that the spell has been put into place and he’s better.

They smiled but Leah told me to watch him and Melissa said to get her if he became a problem.

I almost ran over Spike on the way back downstairs and when I looked in Connor was trying to fall asleep.

“Apparently he’s telling the truth. Apparently, Cordelia and Angel worked it out…”

My phone rang and I grabbed for it.

It had to be Faith with good news.

It was Cordelia’s cell phone and she was quick to ask me to check on Connor.

I told her the good news and then found her sigh to be a good omen. Things had worked out for Connor, so they had to for Buffy as well. She said that Angel was driving like a gazillion miles an hour, quote unquote and that they were almost here.

“Well, if it’s no bother to you, Spike, I’m going to go join my ladies in some sleep. Cordy and Angel are almost here.”

I walked away, suddenly excited.

“If Faith calls with more good news, I’ll let you know, Spike. Scouts honor.”

[railroad_spike]

“Well, if it’s no bother to you, Spike, I’m going to go join my ladies in some sleep. Cordy and Angel are almost here.”

Sure, leave me here to worry about Buffy alone. Yeah, Cordy and Angel are almost here, but they could be an hour from here. What am I bloody supposed to do until then?

“If Faith calls with more good news, I’ll let you know, Spike. Scouts honor.”

I watched him go up to his two ladies, again amazed that he had two sexy slayer girlfriends. It made me miss Buffy even more.

I plopped down on the couch, still bleeding cognizant of the boy attempting to make an escape and still aware that Boris could be very much on route to here right now and enough people had gone bloody missing for one day.

It wasn’t going to happen again, not on this bloody wristband with a timer.

I found myself looking up to the heavens, through the ceiling, metaphorically, of course, and praying for God to keep his purest and most heroic warrior safe over there in Paris.