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Spike rarely slept, at least as humans thought of it. Vampires, just as they didn't *need* to breathe, they didn't *need* to sleep, either.
But his beautiful Drusilla slept. He wasn't sure how she slept so soundly or so sweetly, but she did. And whenever she did, Spike stayed by her side.
God, he loved her. Childlike voice, sweet whispers of his name, soft touches on his skin. He lived--and had died--for her. It made her laugh and smile when he brushed her hair, so every day after her little nap, he'd sit her on a little stool in front of her dolls, and brush. 100 strokes, until her hair fell in soft and shining waves over her back and her shoulders.
It pleased her when he brought her presents, so every day he brought her something. A snack, a trinket of some sort, a new dress for his princess, a silver locket with a D engraved on the front. A little present, every day, just to see her smile.
He loved to watch her when she dreamed. She smiled and laughed, hummed as though she were dancing and Spike fancied they were dancing together in her dreams. If she hummed a new piece of music, he made sure it was there for her when she woke up because the smile on her face was the only thing he wanted.
He leaned over to kiss her, and her giggle flowed in his ears like rich blood down his throat.
And whatever inside him that allowed him to love her so entirely died a little when she whispered "Angel?" in her sleep.
End