Willow straddles Puppy. He pleads with every breath, like always. Whatever. The match has nearly burned down to her fingers. Before it does, she must decide: under his eyelid? against his nipple? in that crease under his arm that hasn't been scarred at all, and looks so lonely?

Boring.

"You wanna eat someone?" Xander asks, slanted hipshot against the bars. Willow lets her match fall. She dips a fingertip in holy water, snarls at the burn. Puppy's no fun.

Vampires don't have regrets; and Faith tasted so fierce, and so bright.

But without her, it's hard to find the fun.

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October 13, 2005