But it would be the terrible kind of hallucination, Spike. No one likes a bad trip. Not even vampires, presumably. There are stories back home suggesting that if a hophead messes themselves up enough, even vampires won't touch him because his blood might mess them up. She never did ask Con about that one. It might just be wishful thinking on the part of hopheads everywhere.
She waits for him to wander back to the couch before she cautiously steps into his apartment. Okay: get the bunnies, get out. Still, she can't help but be a little curious as to how a vampire lite lives, so she steals a few glances around the place as she scoops up the one he tripped over and relocates it to the hallway. Gods, the fur on these things is ridiculous. Her hands seem to sink in a long way before they actually reach the rabbit's body. As she picks up another one, it occurs to her that they might have been safe from Spike, anyway; he'd have to spend half an hour shaving them down before he could bite them without just getting a mouthful of fuzz.
Then he comments on the apparent lack of stuff on TV, so maybe he'd be bored enough to giving rabbit shaving a try. Sunshine straightens, her arms full of the two bunnies that were in his kitchen (it had not been difficult to resist the temptation to see what, if anything, was in his fridge). "Try PBS," she suggests as she walks past. "They might have cartoons." Does she sound faintly amused at his expense? Because she is. Not that she can entirely blame him for being at loose ends; she doesn't have a real job yet, either.
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She waits for him to wander back to the couch before she cautiously steps into his apartment. Okay: get the bunnies, get out. Still, she can't help but be a little curious as to how a vampire lite lives, so she steals a few glances around the place as she scoops up the one he tripped over and relocates it to the hallway. Gods, the fur on these things is ridiculous. Her hands seem to sink in a long way before they actually reach the rabbit's body. As she picks up another one, it occurs to her that they might have been safe from Spike, anyway; he'd have to spend half an hour shaving them down before he could bite them without just getting a mouthful of fuzz.
Then he comments on the apparent lack of stuff on TV, so maybe he'd be bored enough to giving rabbit shaving a try. Sunshine straightens, her arms full of the two bunnies that were in his kitchen (it had not been difficult to resist the temptation to see what, if anything, was in his fridge). "Try PBS," she suggests as she walks past. "They might have cartoons." Does she sound faintly amused at his expense? Because she is. Not that she can entirely blame him for being at loose ends; she doesn't have a real job yet, either.