I wrote fairy Spike, I may never recover...

Title: Fairytale
 
Author: Lilithangel
 
Website: www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint
 
Email: abchainey@xtra.co.nz
 
Fandom: AtS AU (obviously)
 
Genre: fairy fluff
 
Characters: fairy!Spike, Liam Angel
 
Summary: Spike is a fairy without wings; Liam Angel is an artist without a muse.  This is for Harry and Daisy, the two best muses writers could have. 
 
Disclaimer: Daisy belongs to Josie and Harry belongs to me (or I belong to Harry I can never tell) everyone else belongs to the people with copyrights and all that stuff.
 
* * * * *
 
Spike hid from the other fairies in the blackberry bush at least here they couldn't get to him.
 
He hated the fact that he didn't have wings like the other fairies and he hated the fact that they would tease him into losing his temper all the time.  It was impossible to fight them successfully when they could fly up and dive bomb him.
 
His best friends Harry and Daisy would normally defend him from air attacks but they both had jobs as muses now and he did not see them very often anymore.  He missed his friends and wished once again that his wings would come in and let him be a proper fairy with a proper job as a muse.
 
He knew he could be a good muse if the council would let him but they would not admit he was even a proper fairy so he would never be allowed.  He had heard the whispers that his mother had played around with a pixie or a gnome; they had gotten him into the worst fights of all.
 
Spike never backed down from a fight or let them see him cry.  Harry and Daisy were the only ones who knew how much it hurt him to hear such hateful things.
 
Spike was a very beautiful fairy with moonlight silver skin that was set off by his ice white hair and blue eyes but without wings it didn't matter and Spike spent most of his time alone.
 
Once the other fairies had left the area bored with waiting for Spike to come out of the blackberries he snuck out down the garden to the big house.
 
He loved to watch the owner of the house whenever he could.  The male was an artist, a painter, and Spike loved his work.  In his heart of hearts Spike wished to be the artist's muse and live with him in the big house.
 
Because the fairies lived in his garden the council had decided that the artist didn't need his own muse.  They believed the residual magic of all the fairies would be enough inspiration for the big man.
 
But Spike had seen how much the man struggled sometimes to even start a work.  Spike would watch him sit for days in front of a blank canvas and itch to sneak in to whisper in his ear and guide him.
 
Feeling very daring after the barrage of teasing he had suffered Spike decided to slip under the window crack and go inside the big house.
 
* * * * *
 
Liam sat staring at the canvas in frustration.  It had been easy to paint in the early years.  When he had been young and angry his abstract works had been harsh and compelling and had set the art world alight.  Later when he had first fallen in love with Darla his work had taken on a deeper feel that had attracted a dedicated following around the world.
 
But when Darla left him it was as if she took his ability with her along with his heart.  Now the work he had managed was stilted and wrong and he couldn't even bear to start anything.
 
A flash distracted him from his canvas for a moment.  Looking over to the window Liam couldn't see anything and shrugged it off as a trick of the light.
 
* * * * *
 
Spike hid under the artist's chair panting.  He had not intended to leave the window sill but the whoosh of a daddy long legs web had startled him and he had fallen to the floor.
 
He had been terrified the human had seen him but even though he could not fly he was fast on his feet.
 
He listened to the artist sigh with frustration and ached to ease his pain but Spike knew the council would banish him to the outer reaches of the compost heap if he revealed himself to a human without permission.
 
But he couldn't just let the poor man suffer if he could do something to help.  Carefully Spike climbed up the back of the chair grateful that the artist worked on an old wooden chair with lots of carving to give him climbing holds.
 
* * * * *
 
Liam felt strange warmth on the back of his neck and suddenly he was more relaxed than he had been in days.  He began to see colours forming on the canvas in his mind and the beginnings of a picture.
 
The urge to paint was strong but he felt warm and, oddly enough, loved and didn't want to move.
 
* * * * *
 
Spike could tell the artist was getting inspired but instead of picking up a paintbrush he leant back in his chair and let his head relax against the rest.
 
Stifling a squeak Spike tried to stay completely still in case the human felt something tangled in his hair.
 
Maybe he was doing something wrong with the inspiring, he had listened to Harry and Daisy talk about it often enough and thought he could handle it.  But maybe the others were right; maybe he wasn't a proper fairy.
 
* * * * *
 
Liam felt something tickling at the back of his neck.  Assuming it was a bug or something he moved his arm carefully and swatted at the spot.
 
Bringing his hand back around Liam was stunned to see a small silver figure crumpled in his palm.
 
Liam blinked but it was still there and it appeared to be breathing very faintly.
 
* * * * *
 
Opening his eyes Spike was disoriented for a moment.  The last thing he remembered was feeling bad that he had failed as a muse and then a rush of air.
 
Looking up he saw a huge face staring at him and he froze.  A large finger reached out and prodded him in the stomach.
 
"Hey!" Spike protested indignantly, "watch where you're poking that."
 
The finger retreated and the face took on a look of comical surprise.
 
"You talk," the artist breathed in shock, "you're real."
 
"Of course I'm real," Spike grumbled trying to sit up and finding he was lying in the palm of the artist's hand, "bugger I am in real trouble now," he sighed.
 
Liam blinked in astonishment at the small silver creature in his hand.  It was fully male in form, beautiful and obviously annoyed.
 
"Why are you in trouble?" he could not stop from asking.
 
"Because I am a fairy and humans are not suppose to see us without permission," Spike explained in a huff.
 
"A fairy," Liam wondered if he had in fact gone insane from the loss of inspiration, "where are your wings?  I thought fairies had wings."
 
Spike pouted, he had hoped the human would not notice, "I don't have any okay," he replied shortly.
 
"Why not?" Angel stroked the side of the peculiar creature more gently this time.
 
Spike could not help his little wriggle of pleasure at the human's touch.  Fairies were very tactile creatures and Spike had suffered from not getting enough touch for a long time.
 
"Mother says I am a late developer," Spike replied unwarily then he frowned when he realised what he had said, "anyway why aren't you painting?  I know you were inspired," he changed topics.
 
Liam looked at the fairy in surprise, "how do you know that?  And I was worried about you," he answered.
 
Sulking Spike did not answer; he was already in trouble with the council he wasn't going to make it worse by telling an unchosen human about muses.  Even a very attractive human like the artist.
 
But Liam had studied art history at school and a sliver of memory teased at his mind, "are fairies muses?" he asked cautiously and remembered some of his friends who talked about their muses as if they were real, "they are aren't they?" his face lit up at the thought.
 
"Some are," Spike admitted reluctantly, "but only the most deserving creators get one."
 
Liam's face dropped at the implications of Spike's words, "that's why I have never had one, I'm not deserving enough," he said sadly knowing it was true.  His work had been a flash in the pan and he really had nothing left.
 
"No," Spike hastened to reassure the sad human, "it was decided that you received enough with all of us in your garden," in his haste to make the handsome artist happy Spike was revealing too much.
 
"There are fairies in my garden?" Liam repeated excitedly and jumped to his feet almost dislodging Spike in his haste.
 
"No!" Spike cried out as he slipped precariously on the human skin, "don't look I will get into so much trouble if they found out," he begged.
 
Liam stopped at the obvious distress in the fairy's voice.
 
"You're not supposed to know," Spike added.
 
"Do you have a name?" Liam asked quelling his desire to look out into his garden.
 
"Course I do," Spike huffed, "name's Spike."
 
"Well Spike," Liam smiled, "I'm Liam, how about you and I make a deal?  You can inspire me then?" he hinted.  He felt a little bad about blackmailing the pretty male but he was desperate.
 
"Yeah," Spike nodded suspiciously, "why?"
 
"I won't let on that I know anything about fairies if you keep inspiring me," Liam bargained.
 
Spike knew he was trapped and a part of him was gleeful at the thought of being a muse even if it was in secret, "why are you so accepting of my existence?" he asked before he gave his agreement.
 
"I thought maybe I had hit my head or something at first but I am obvious awake and you are obviously real," Liam explained, "so if you are a hallucination then I am completely crazy and might as well enjoy it and if you are real then I might as well enjoy it," he reasoned.
 
"Alright then," Spike agreed, "I'll help you and you'll continue to ignore the garden."
 
"Agreed," Liam held out a finger for the fairy to shake to seal the deal, "so how does this work?" he asked after Spike had released his finger, "the whole inspiration thing?"
 
"I just have to be near you, touching is better and the inspiration should come," Spike did not tell the human it was not certain Spike was in fact a muse.
 
"So that's why I started to visualise something before," Liam said with excitement, "where do you want to sit?"
 
Spike stood up and shook his self and then he climbed quickly up Liam's arm to sit in the curve of Liam's neck, "will I be in the way here?" he asked the artist.
 
"Its fine," Liam smiled quite enjoying the slight weight and the feel of Spike's body on his neck.  He moved slowly back over to the easel conscious of not knocking the small body flying.
 
* * * * *
 
They soon settled into an easy routine and with Spike perched on his shoulder Liam found inspiration returning.
 
His work was different again from before but stronger for the things he had been through and somehow brighter for Spike's influence.
 
Spike would sneak away from the other fairies as soon as he could in the mornings and climb through the window Liam kept open for him.  Liam made sure no spiders took up residence around the frame so Spike could enter safely.
 
Liam noticed the sometimes Spike would be sporting slight injuries and he asked how they had happened but Spike would brush him off with tales of spider battles and cockroach wars that made Liam laugh and forget about what had happened until the next time.
 
Sometimes Spike would get up before the dawn and climb up to Liam's bedroom window and watch the big human sleep.  He had never understood the human need for clothing and this was the only time he got to see all of Liam's body. 
 
Spike liked looking at Liam's body; it was strong and golden with a dusting of hair that thickened interestingly at his groin.  Spike liked the hair and wished he could touch it and nuzzle into the soft chest covering.
 
He didn't try though Liam never seemed to notice the feather caresses that Spike gave to the side of Liam's neck when he sat there and Spike was too nervous to push his luck.
 
Soon Liam had enough finished work to call his agent and get a gallery exhibition organised.  They were both really excited to see how the public would react to the new work. 
 
Liam had to go to the city to work out the details and Spike was disappointed not to be asked to go.  He would have liked to see the city and the gallery where the work would be displayed.  He knew that fairies did not fare well in cities but figured that a couple of days would not hurt.  Liam did not ask him though and Spike did not want to ask. 
 
He thought about stowing away in Liam's luggage but on the day Liam was to leave Harry and Daisy came to visit.
 
Spike was grateful he had not gone, the other fairies might not have noticed his absences but his two friends would.
 
They were sitting in Spike's nest under the blackberries as Spike listened to their tales of their artists.  Both Harry and Daisy looked after writers and enjoyed it immensely.  Daisy had a fabulous garden to play in and a creator who indulged her with far too many things.  Harry's charge was not much of a gardener but there was a stand of trees at the back of the section that housed a multitude of birds and insects for Harry to tease and Harry was also indulged shamelessly.
 
"My writer is having family issues right now," Daisy was explaining, "and she hasn't been writing so this was a perfect time to visit.  She gets so grumpy when her other life gets in the way and doesn't let me do the things I want to do."
 
"Mine has gone away for a naughty weekend," Harry leered, "but I have to get back when she returns otherwise she starts writing fluffy stories without any good boy sex," he grumbled.
 
"Any sign of... you know..." Daisy indicated Spike's back delicately.
 
Spike shook his head, he really wanted to tell his friends what he had been doing because he knew they would be happy for him but he didn't want them to get into trouble if the council ever found out so he kept quiet.
 
"How are the others treating you?" Harry frowned at Spike's silence, his friend was normally really talkative and this silence was unnatural.
 
"I avoid them as much as I can," Spike answered, "and if the try anything I give as good as I get."
 
Harry nodded, he knew Spike was a good fighter but he was at a disadvantage without his wings.  Harry worried when he wasn't around to provide air support for his friend.
 
"Are you still watching the artist?" Daisy asked and grinned at the blush that covered Spike's entire body at her question, "you are!" she said triumphantly.
 
"Just be careful," Harry warned although he had been guilty himself of flying up to the artist's bathroom for a peek before.
 
Spike spent two pleasurable days with his friends before they had to return to their charges promising to visit again soon.  The other fairies left him alone when Harry and Daisy visited so he was able to relax.
 
The next morning Liam was due back and Spike wandered the garden excitedly waiting for his vehicle to arrive.  He wanted to hear everything that had happened and find out what people thought of the new work.
 
Shadows crossed over Spike and he looked up to see several fairies swooping above his head grinning nastily at him.  Before he could react others darted in from the sides pulling his hair and pinching him.
 
Spike fought them off but another group came at him from another direction laughing cruelly at his attempts.  Two of them pulled him up off the ground by his hair and then let him fall.
 
Spike tried to stand up but the fairies flying above started to pelt him with acorns and berries.  Spike put his hands over his head to protect himself and tried to run for the cover of his blackberry bush.
 
The fairies screamed and giggled, chanting nasty names at him, "run away little gnome," they called, "pixies don't belong here."
 
Spike kept running and dodging the missiles but an acorn hit him squarely on the arm and he fell to the ground with a cry his arm bent at an awkward angle.
 
The other fairies scattered when they saw they had really damaged Spike and he managed to stagger into his nest clutching his arm to his chest.
 
* * * * *
 
Liam had thought that Spike would have been waiting for him to get home and was surprised when there was no sign of the fairy.  He left the window open in case Spike was just delayed and went on unpacking.
 
The paintings had been an overwhelming success and many had sold even before the gallery opening.  Everyone was talking about the maturity and depth of the work and making great predictions about his future.
 
A large investor had even commissioned a series of works for a new office block and Liam was eager to get started.
 
* * * * *
 
It was almost dark before Spike felt able to leave the cover of the blackberry bush.  His arm hurt a lot but he was pretty sure it wasn't broken.  He could see light spilling out from Liam's window and really wanted to see the big human.
 
Spike climbed painfully over the windowsill and sat down to catch his breath.
 
"Spike I was getting worried," Liam jumped up from his chair and hurried over to the window.
 
"Sorry," Spike stood and smiled, "I couldn't get away.  How did it go?" he hopped onto Liam's outstretched hand.
 
"Wonderfully," Liam enthused, "they loved everything and I've got a big commission to complete so I want to get started right away."
 
"That's great," Spike grinned happily, "what did they say?" he was desperate for good news to take his mind off how sore his arm was.
 
"They said my new work had great depth and an almost spiritual feel," Liam said proudly, "and it's all because of you."
 
Spike smiled, "nah, I'm just the muse, you're the artist."
 
"We make a great team," Liam smiled then frowned when he noticed Spike was favouring one arm, "what happened to you?" he asked.
 
"Just an accident, I'll be right as rain in no time," Spike brushed it off.
 
"Was it the other fairies?" Liam asked with concern.  Spike had mentioned the teasing to him and he had been worried at the time, now it looked like his concerns were warranted.
 
"S'all right," Spike reassured Liam, "they just caught me unawares is all it won't happen again.  Fairies are quick healer too so I'll be fine."
 
"Okay but be careful okay," Liam was worried realising just how fragile the small fairy was, the commission was important and he couldn't risk losing his muse.
 
"We should celebrate," he decided suddenly, "how about a wee drink?" putting Spike down carefully Liam headed for his meagre supply of good scotch that he kept for special occasions.
 
"I shouldn't," Spike replied, "human alcohol has a very powerful effect on fairies."
 
"Go on," Liam coaxed hunting out an old bottle cap, "we've earned it."
 
Giving into the temptation Spike accepted the cap full of golden liquid.  The elders had warned him about human alcohol but he had never tried it himself and he was curious.
 
Liam smiled indulgently at the drunken fairy strutting across his lap.  The scotch had gone straight to Spike's head and he was now ranting about the other fairies and promising divine retribution on them getting more and more aggressive.
 
Liam was happily sketching out the first of the panels for his new work.  Spike's exuberance was filling his strokes with strength and colour and giving Liam plenty of ideas to work with.
 
Finally Spike collapsed in a drunken heap on top of Liam's groin snuggling comfortably against his balls.
 
Liam picked Spike up a little unnerved by his response to the fairy's movements.
 
Taking advantage of Spike's inebriation Liam took the time to examine him closely.  Spike was a perfectly formed male with very attractive features that were marred by the bruising around his arm and shoulder.
 
Liam frowned, he couldn't risk his muse being hurt or killed by the other fairies or eaten by a bird or spider.  Spike seemed to take delight in risking himself by challenging everything bigger than he was.
 
Liam knew Spike wouldn't like it but he was convinced it was in Spike's best interests not to return to the garden for a while.  At least not until the commission was completed.
 
Liam found a shoebox and folded up a sock in one corner.  He placed Spike on the sock and covered him with a handkerchief.  Then he filled the bottle cap up with water and found some raisins and seeds in his larder.  Liam punched some holes in the lid of the shoebox for air and placed it on the box with a paperweight to hold it down.
 
He didn't like doing it but it was for Spike's own good.  Worried about what the little fairy would do when he woke up Liam decided to soak some of the raisins in the scotch to keep him relaxed.
 
* * * * *
 
 Harry and Daisy came back to visit two weeks later and were very concerned that nobody had seen Spike for ages.  His mother was beside herself with worry as he had not been to visit her and nobody seemed to care.
 
They cornered some of his tormentors and managed to extract a confession about the acorn incident.  It appeared nobody had seen him since that event.
 
Very worried now Harry and Daisy risked flying over to the artist's window to see if Spike had been there.  Looking inside they could see that the artist had been very busy; there were canvases everywhere but no sign of Spike.
 
"He wouldn't have left the garden would he?" Daisy asked Harry.
 
"Shouldn't think so," Harry shook his head, "how far could he get on foot?"
 
"A spider couldn't have got him?" Daisy looked up at the nearest web in concern.
 
"We would be able to see that," Harry shuddered at the thought.
 
A movement inside the room sent them scurrying for cover.  Peering around the window frame the fairies watched the artist stalk into the room and stand in front of his easel.  He was obviously not happy with what he saw as he pulled the canvas off the easel and threw it into a corner.
 
Then they watched as he picked up a small box and tapped at the side taking the lid off to peer inside.  Apparently unsatisfied with what he saw the artist put the box down and grabbed up a bottle of scotch.  He took a big swallow and wandered back out of the room.
 
Harry and Daisy looked at each other with real fear, they both had a horrible idea about what, or who, was in that box.
 
Checking that the coast was clear they snuck under the window into the room and flew towards the box.  Passing paintings on the way Harry noticed a definite drop in ability and style.  The later works, still glistening wet, were quite dark and less technically proficient than the early ones.
 
Reaching the box Daisy peered inside trying to see what was in there.  Her distressed gasp told Harry that it was Spike.
 
"We have to get him out of there," Daisy said urgently.
 
Harry considered the glass weight on the lid for a moment and then started to push it off.  It was heavy and took both of them to shift it but they managed to send it bouncing onto the desk.
 
Working together they pushed the lid off and looked down into the box.  Spike was lying on a makeshift mattress staring blankly up at them.  His skin had lost its moonlight silver sheen and was a ghastly grey colour and his hair hung flat and lank against his head.
 
"Spike," Daisy flew down to the distressed fairy, "how did you let him catch you?"
 
Spike blinked slowly not really recognising her.
 
"Spike," Harry tried to lift him upright and was shocked to find how light the fairy had become.
 
Daisy was crying now trying to get Spike to focus on her, "what's happened to you Spike, please talk to me," she begged.
 
Spike's eyes cleared a little and he smiled vaguely, "hey Daisy guess what," he giggled, "I'm a muse too... we're making beautiful art together."
 
Daisy frowned at the smell of human alcohol on Spike's breath; he had obviously been drinking a lot.  She moved over to where there was a bottle cap of water and some fruit.  Sniffing the water she frowned and then picked up a piece of fruit and took a small bite.  Daisy spat the fruit out as soon as she tasted it realising it was full of alcohol.
 
Harry managed to get Spike's arm around his shoulder and lifted the feather light fairy up.  Daisy moved around to take the other arm and together they began to slowly fly out of the box.
 
Even with Spike as light as he was it was not easy for the two fairies to fly holding him.  Their wings could not open completely without hitting each other so they moved very slowly.
 
"No!" a voice yelled from the doorway and Liam rushed in.  Harry and Daisy tried to fly faster but the big human reached the window before them and slammed it shut.
 
Changing direction they tried to make it to the door but Liam reached there before them and pushed it shut too.
 
"Leave him alone," Daisy screamed at the human as he tried to catch the three fairies.
 
They fluttered to a rest on top of a high shelf and Daisy took up position in front of Spike while Harry made dive-bombing attacks at the human's face.
 
"Kidnapper... thief..." Harry hurled at the artist easily dodging the flailing hands, "you're killing him."
 
Liam stopped at Harry's words, "what do you mean?" he looked anxiously at Harry.
 
"You've locked him away from the sun, given him alcohol, and kept him away from the garden.  What did you think you were doing?" Harry screamed his worry for his friend making him frantic with anger.
 
"I was only trying to keep him safe," Liam justified weakly.
 
"Look at him," Daisy demanded, "is this safe?" she could barely hold up the shaking fairy who was swaying on his feet.
 
Liam staggered backwards as he took a real look at Spike for the first time.  In his obsession with completing the commission he had convinced himself that Spike was fine.  But he could not deny the state the fairy, his muse, was in.
 
Harry and Daisy looked at the desolate expression on the artist's face and relaxed a little.
 
"I'm sorry Spike," Liam sank into his chair and dropped his head into his hands, "everything has gone so horribly wrong."
 
"We're a team," Spike said shakily, "not wrong."
 
"You were his muse voluntarily?" Harry asked in outrage.
 
"Wanted to be a proper fairy, show them all," Spike slurred before slipping unconscious.
 
"He was hurt," Liam looked up, "I just wanted to protect him, my commission was so important."
 
"More important than your muse's life?" Harry demanded.
 
"No, god no," Liam protested then let him head drop again as he looked at Spike again and knew what he had done.
 
"We have to get him out of here, heal him," Daisy explained gently.
 
Liam nodded brokenly and got up to open the window, "tell him... tell him I'm sorry," he begged as the two fairies lifted their precious burden and flew out of the room.
 
Neither replied to him uncertain if Spike would even recover from what had happened.
 
Liam packed up his canvases and paints and put them away.  He rang the investor and explained that he might not be able to complete the commission due to personal circumstances.  Then he crawled into a bottle to mourn what he had lost.
 
* * * * *
 
 Spike opened his eyes and fuzzily focused on two concerned faces above him.
 
"You guys came back quickly," he commented, "couldn't keep away from my company huh?  What did I do last night?" he asked surprised at the huskiness of his voice.
 
Daisy's eyes were full of tears and she choked on a reply.
 
"We were worried about you," Harry answered for her, "you have been out for several days."
 
"What do you mean," Spike tried to sit up and collapsed back when his arms would not support him.
 
"What do you remember?" Daisy asked him.
 
"You guys left... I... I had a bit of trouble with the others but Liam got back and I went to see him..." Spike's brow creased as he tried to remember what had happened.
 
"That was three weeks ago," Daisy told him gently.
 
"Don't be stupid," Spike tried to laugh, "I can't have lost three weeks, Liam must be frantic," Spike struggled to sit up again.
 
"He's the reason you're in this state," Harry said grimly pushing Spike easily back into his bed.
 
"You really do care about him," Daisy said sadly.
 
"Tell me what happened," Spike demanded weakly knowing that it had to be bad by the expression on his friends' faces.
 
"We came back to visit a week ago but couldn't find you and nobody knew anything," Harry explained, "we looked everywhere and finally we checked in the big house."
 
"We couldn't see you," Daisy took up the tale, "but we saw the artist with a box.  When he left we flew in and... and found you inside," tears welled up in Daisy's eyes again as she remembered how bad Spike had looked.
 
"You were nearly dead," Harry added bluntly, "he had you drunk and shut away from the sunlight.  He didn't know what he had done," Harry's voice was angry.
 
Spike looked at his friends in shock, he knew they would not lie to him but he could not believe Liam would do that to him.
 
"He said he was trying to protect you," Daisy put in trying to be fair.
 
"Only to protect his precious art," Harry said contemptuously, "humans can be very selfish at times but no true creator would treat a muse like that."
 
Tears pricked Spike's eyes as the implications of what Harry and Daisy had said sunk in, "maybe it was because I am not a proper muse, maybe I couldn't inspire him properly," he said miserably.
 
"It's not your fault," Daisy said fiercely, "he didn't deserve you."
 
"What do I do know?" Spike asked in despair.
 
His friends could only hug him tight.
 
* * * * *
 
Liam sat in his chair by the window.  He had taken to spending the better part of each day sitting there feeling the sun on his face and mourning what he had lost.
 
Spike had not just been his inspiration; Spike had been his friend and companion.  That had been what created the works that were selling so successfully right now.  Works that had his agent in a fret would never be repeated without Spike.
 
All Liam had managed to do was cover page after page of sketches of Spike.  As he drew it became more and more clear what he had lost when he did what he did.  His mind had stored up every expression, every movement the remarkable fairy had made around him.  He had forgotten nothing. 
 
When he was at his most depressed his mind would show him how much he remembered and pages of Spike trapped in the shoebox were drawn and scattered around the room.  Spike wasting away a vacant expression on his face.  Spike lying there completely still without the animation that was as natural to him as breathing.
 
And Liam would realise he had broken a rare and precious thing and he knew he did not deserve to have inspiration or colour in his life again.
 
A scrabbling noise brought Liam's attention to the window.  Sitting there watching him was Spike.
 
Liam did not move or speak just in case it was a hallucination.  If Spike was not really there he didn't want to lose the chance to drink in the sight of the small fairy looking like his normal healthy self.
 
"Aren't you going to say anything?" the apparition asked.
 
"Will you go away if I did?" Liam questioned tentatively.
 
The vision smirked, "would depend on what you said," it replied.
 
"Spike, you're... better?" Liam waited for the figure to fade away at his question and leave him to his darkness.
 
"Pretty much," Spike answered, "Daisy and Harry didn't want me to come back here but I had to know..."
 
"Anything Spike," Liam interrupted anxiously.
 
"Why?" Spike asked plaintively, "Was I of that little importance to you?"
 
"You were of the utmost importance to me," Liam said urgently, "but I let my pride and obsession blind me to why you were important and I abused you badly for that arrogance," he confessed.
 
"How?" Spike pressed looking searchingly at the distraught artist.
 
"I told myself I was protecting you keeping you safe from harm.  But what I was doing was protecting my inspiration instead of my friend," Liam couldn't look at the little fairy.
 
"Am I your friend Liam?" Spike wanted to know.
 
"Yes," Liam answered vehemently, "If you still wish to be, if you can forgive me for my pride and ignorance," he added softly.
 
"Course I can," Spike answered apparently satisfied with Liam's answer, "what has be going on here?" he asked surveying the wreck of the room.
 
 "Just like that?" Liam asked in amazement.
 
"Just like that," Spike replied calmly, "I'm a fairy and your muse, I can forgive you almost anything.  You didn't answer me, what's been going on here?"
 
Liam surveyed the room, he had stripped almost everything out but the side table littered with bottles and the chair he sat in.  The easel had been tossed into a corner and most of the floor was covered with the pages of sketches he had drawn.
 
"I wasn't paying attention," Liam confessed sheepishly, "I had lost my best friend."
 
Spike grinned and leapt down off the windowsill, "bloody hell, got a bit of an obsession have you?" he teased when he realised the subject of all the sketches.
 
Spike stopped by one sketch and stared at it intently his head cocked to one side.  Liam could see that it was one of the ones he had drawn of Spike in the shoebox.
 
Spike's face was blank as he surveyed the state he had been in, "they said it was bad when they found me but I didn't really understand until now."
 
Liam flushed miserably, "you have good friends there, very protective which is good," he said.
 
Spike moved to another one that Liam had drawn from a time when the fairy had been balanced on the windowsill basking in the sun and his face softened.
 
"I am lucky to have friends like them," Spike said, "and you if you are going to keep drawing me so damn handsome," his comment eased the mood between them and Liam relaxed a little more.
 
"What are we waiting for?" Spike demanded, "Don't you have a commission to finish?"
 
"I do," Liam answered, "but I want to finish something else first," he left the room and returned quickly with a small canvas and his paints, "I wasn't sure if it was a good idea but I want to try and finish this.  I started it before..." he trailed off.
 
"What is it?" Spike asked curiously.
 
"It's you," Liam answered shyly.
 
"Like you haven't got enough of them," Spike scoffed to hide his pleasure looking around at the carpet of paper.
 
"Those were lifeless and without colour, you deserve colour," Liam said firmly, "now could you sit on the windowsill again please?"
 
Spike complied although he was dying to see what Liam had painted.  Liam directed him to a pose that was natural to the fairy, perched precariously on the edge of the sill feet dangling and laughing face looking right at Liam.
 
"I was nearly finished," Liam explained, "it was going to be a surprise.  I could have finished it without you but it didn't feel right."
 
Quickly Liam prepared his brushes and paints and started to work.  Everything felt better now, he could feel the inspiration bubbling up inside but more importantly he could feel the happiness there from having his friend back.
 
"Do you think you will get wings," Liam found himself asking as he painted, "one day?"
 
"Don't know," Spike answered sadly, "nobody knows."
 
"You should, you deserve them," Liam said firmly.
 
Around them the sunlight seemed to glow golden for a moment at Liam's words.
 
"They should be as beautiful as you are, as big as your heart and as glorious as your eyes," Liam didn't care that his words were whimsical and almost romantic they were words that had been in his heart with every stroke of his brush as he painted Spike.
 
"Doesn't matter," Spike shrugged it off as the air glowed around them, "being your muse makes up for a lot."
 
"What sort of wings would you like if you had them?" Liam asked.
 
"Don't know," Spike admitted.
 
"They should be big and midnight blue to complement your moonlight skin," Liam began to add the wings to his painting of Spike, "and shot through with emerald green and silver."
 
The room was now filled with a golden light as if the sun were setting and Spike could feel an itching in his back that grew more intense with Liam's words.
 
"They should reach down almost to your feet and become almost feathery like butterfly wings," Liam added as the wings took shape under his hand.
 
Spike twitched uncomfortably on the sill and something brushed against his hip.  Spike stilled in shock and put on hand carefully behind his back only to touch nothing but air.
 
"When you fly they should catch the light and show a dozen more colours," Liam could see how the wings would frame Spike's slight form even in the seated position of the painting, lifting above his head.
 
Once again something brushed Spike's hip and this time it happened on both sides, "Liam," Spike's strangled voice broke through Liam's inspiration.
 
Liam looked up to see the wings from his imagination and his canvas flickering in the golden light that bathed the room.
 
"Spike," Liam breathed in wonder.
 
"Are they real?" Spike asked the tension cracking his voice.
 
Liam looked down at his canvas, the painting was almost completed all he had to do was put in the hints of colours which he did with just a few brush strokes.
 
Standing up Liam moved towards Spike still clutching his paintbrush and the painting.  He reached up and realised he was still holding the brush and dropped it to the ground in unconcern.
 
They both held their breath as Liam reached up and brushed the edge of the very real wing and exact match for what Liam had painted.
 
An expression of ecstatic joy crossed Spike's face when he felt the touch, "they are real," he breathed with awe.
 
In amazement Liam turned his painting around so Spike could see it, "it could be a mirror," he said.  Spike stared in shock and pleasure at what he could see.
 
Around them unnoticed the glow faded and normal daylight returned.
 
Spike let out a laugh and let his wings flap gently enjoying the feel of the breeze they caused.  His eyes widened with comical surprise as the flapping lifted him off the sill.
 
"Try them properly," Liam advised with excitement.
 
Spike stared at Liam with trepidation and then let his wings pick up speed and carry him across the room.
 
Spike whooped with abandon and began to test his wings.  Liam laughed in delight as Spike ducked and dove through the room flying around Liam's head until the human began to feel dizzy.
 
"You gave me wings," Spike was dumbfounded as he flew down to hover next to Liam's face, "you painted me wings, I don't know how and I don't care, thank you," Spike flew in and kissed Liam lightly on the cheek.
 
"You're welcome," Liam smiled as the fairy zipped around the room again.
 
"I have to show Harry and Daisy," Spike said excitedly, "and the others," he grinned triumphantly, "I'll be back I promise."
 
Spike darted out of the window and Liam went over to watch him dance in the sunlight.
 
Turning back to the room Liam felt a surge of need to get back into his life again.  He tidied up all the sketches of Spike intending to bind them into a book to remind him of the risks of obsession.  Then he went to fetch his canvases, his inspiration was back.
 

Epilogue
 
From the art reviewer of the Los Angeles Times...
 
"Reclusive artist Liam Angel unveiled yet another successful exhibition this week.  Once again he has stunned the art world with the range and diversity of his work. 
 
Different again from previous shows this work is stunning in its simplicity.  At first glance they are just landscapes and gardens but as the viewer looks further whole different worlds are revealed.  Colours hide wings, leaves show faces, branches become limbs of fantastical creatures.  Until you move and then they are gone again leaving the viewer with the doubt that they were ever there to begin with.
 
Before you decide that these works belong in children's novels (and they have graced the pages of a few select novels not intended for children), you have to appreciate the complexity of the works in question.
 
Liam Angel's work is technically superb and inspired as well as being just compelling to the eye.  There is maturity to the new works that was not there in his earlier far angrier pieces.
 
 Little is known about the life of this artist who is content to live in seclusion surrounded by the gardens to provide so much of his inspiration.
 
But one thing this reviewer does know and always looks for now, is the moonlight image included in every painting.  It is impossible to tell for certain what the image is but it is always there.
 
When asked in a rare interview Mr Angel simply replied that every artist has a muse."