A Hotel Room in Sunnydale, Sunday Afternoon

[wwiii]

So, last night had been kind of horrifying, what with the crying and the trapped and the hallucinations and the demons and the...look, there had been about a million 'and the's.' Perhaps a million and one. There had been screaming followed by Scrabble, and a lot of hiding away and re-thinking everything. Then Warren had taken Karla to the hotel, where they wouldn't have to deal with Asher, who had survived the ordeal but wasn't terribly likely to survive the day if Warren had to share a room with him right then.

And sleep hadn't come easily, but once they slipped into it, sheer exhaustion had claimed them for the better part of the day. Now Warren was finally awake, and was staring up quietly at the ceiling, trying not to wake up Karla. He had feelings now, that went beyond last night's blood-curdling terror, and if she'd just keep sleeping until it was time for her to return to the island, then maybe he could ignore them for a while longer, himself.

But that wasn't terribly likely, was it?

[For the lady! NFB for distance!]