Buffy looked at Spike with disbelief. “So you’re telling me that while I was napping after a particularly strenuous session of slayage, the world as we know it ended, only we survived, the crypt is floating in a space time continuum -whatever that means- and the only way I can survive is for you to bite me, turn me and bonk me - and I can guess what that means!”

Spike studied her cautiously. “Yeah. Neck suit you?”

“You expect me to believe you?”

He pointed at the calendar on the fridge.

“Oh! Tuesday. Right. Yes, neck’s fine. Don’t tickle.”



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