So give them blood, blood, gallons of the stuff [closed, incomplete]
WHO: Spike (cptnperoxide) and Karin (reverse_vamp)
WHAT: Helping Karin with her blood problem.
WHERE: Their prearranged meeting place.
WHEN: Backlogged, after this exchange.
He was never going to admit to this. He would never in his life admit to needed anyone, especially not a little girl, especially not after admitting he needed a Slayer had ended so horribly. But how much lower could he sink? Not far, Willie boy, not far.
So he went out to meet Karin, glaring at anyone he met on the way, at the place they had decided upon. She was a strange little thing, a "reverse" vampire practically manufactured for people like him. For a brief moment he thought about what Angel was doing to feed himself, but he dismissed the idea. He wasn't haring this little present, no. Angel could go suck on his Slayer if he got hungry. Besides, he didn't have the additional mental trauma that came from a fizzing piece of metal stuck in his head. He could fend for himself.
"You here, yet, then?" He called. No answer. "Guess not." So he sat, and waited, arms crossed petulantly as he wrapped himself in his jacket. Whoever the hell's bright idea was it to make it snow was going to pay in bloody pissing bruises.
WHAT: Helping Karin with her blood problem.
WHERE: Their prearranged meeting place.
WHEN: Backlogged, after this exchange.
He was never going to admit to this. He would never in his life admit to needed anyone, especially not a little girl, especially not after admitting he needed a Slayer had ended so horribly. But how much lower could he sink? Not far, Willie boy, not far.
So he went out to meet Karin, glaring at anyone he met on the way, at the place they had decided upon. She was a strange little thing, a "reverse" vampire practically manufactured for people like him. For a brief moment he thought about what Angel was doing to feed himself, but he dismissed the idea. He wasn't haring this little present, no. Angel could go suck on his Slayer if he got hungry. Besides, he didn't have the additional mental trauma that came from a fizzing piece of metal stuck in his head. He could fend for himself.
"You here, yet, then?" He called. No answer. "Guess not." So he sat, and waited, arms crossed petulantly as he wrapped himself in his jacket. Whoever the hell's bright idea was it to make it snow was going to pay in bloody pissing bruises.