Consciousness is a tricky thing. If asked later, Spike would have said that the first thing he became aware of that morning was the headache. On the day, however, it was the sounds and smells of food preparation that lured him to wakefulness. This was followed shortly by the confusion and apprehension.

His senses, somehow simultaneously dulled and over-sensitive, bombard him with fuzzy information. The unmistakable aroma of bacon surrounds him in its embrace, and the sizzlings and poppings of its frying bring joy to his beleaguered stomach. He's on a soft cushion, but his back and neck are bemoaning the aggrievance of harsh springs under the padded exterior. A sofa? Or a terribly uncomfortable bed?

He tries to swallow and grimaces at the hockey puck of painful dryness in his throat. He decides that he needs water, dammit, and he ought to go about finding some. It is this urge that drives him to open his eyes. This is when Spike becomes aware of the headache. It is dull. It is slow. It is heavy.

So significant is the pain between his temples that Spike does not appreciate the significance of the full glass of water that his left hand finds somewhere. If asked later it was probably "up your ass you pedantic fuck."

Author's Note

Hey guys. My life has changed a few hundred ways since last time, but I still want this to happen.

So, here I'm doing a thing I never planned on doing. For two totally un-similar reasons, I'm going to pause work on this chapter. One is that I'm writing this at four in the morning. Two is that I've spent the past few months not writing because I couldn't decide on how I wanted this story to play out from here. So, here's how I'm going to do this:

You, yes you, dear reader, are being handed the reins. A certain somepony (or someone, since this is a mostly humanized [but they're not really humans, it gets COMPLICATED] world) is making a lovely breakfast! But who? Howsabout you pick? That's who!

So, if either of the probably two of you who will read this want to vote, just throw me a comment. In my mind it was Twily or Dash, but let's just open this up all the goshdarn way. Any of the six (and maybe someone else??) are (is?) available! *bonus music goes off*

Also please yell at me until I write more because your comments are literally the only reason I remembered I wrote this goddamn disaster of a fanfic. And honestly, comments are the number one reason for anything happening ever. That's probably a lie, but if any of the other (read: Actual) writers in this world are anything like me, comments mean the world to them. Me. Us. I confused myself with pronouns. Basically, if you read this and don't feel like voting? No worries. Just go leave a comment on the last fic you read. It could be an emoticon. Just say something. It will make someone's day.