What would Maggie do if she knew that the creature that looked, smelled, and sounded like her Jon wasn't him? You would think that she would be angered, repulsed, scared but was there a part of her that wouldn't care and would accept a replica? The bond between her and the fae was unspoken but just as strong as the one between her and her husband. She fed and tended to its needs, and it helped to keep her fed and safe in her solitude. If she had known that she was not alone in her continued and deeply set grief, it might have made it easier to manage.<br/><br/>Peering up at what she thought was her husband Maggie wiped tears away with the back of her hand. "You had no choice, Jon. I know you would not have willingly left me here by myself. None of this is your fault no matter how many times I have placed blame on you these past few months. I don't know how to carry on without my partner in crime, my best friend. You inspired me to be the best version of myself at all times, to always look for the light. My light was you." Maggie could feel the tears starting to form again and took in a few deep breaths to stop herself as he began to walk in her direction.<br/><br/>Maggie swallowed hard as the Pooka lifted her from the crumpled heap. His touch sent shivers through her whole body as she leaned in and took in his scent and smiled a little, the familiar smell of spice filling her nose. Maggie wanted to cling to him, to wrap her arms around him and never let him go but her arms fell to her sides as he placed her on the bed. She felt both like a little girl and a woman at the same time, so tired and weak both physically and spiritually, so empty and in need to be filled with life again. Jon was so warm and inviting just as she remembered, every detail perfectly replicated by the fae.<br/><br/>The suddenness of Jon's actions caught a gasp in Maggie's throat as he threw her back onto the bed, her long dark hair spilling out under her head like a brunette waterfall. Maggie didn't have time to react other than to give a nervous giggle, the same one she gave Jon the first time they ever made love. He was like a beast now, something primal in him had come out in death, but she did not shy away from it. The heat of his body, the feeling of his breath across her skin, the scent it all combined into the perfect dream that had been coming to her every night since his death.<br/><br/>Maggie's voice caught in her throat for a few moments as she tried to speak, but had fallen mute from the shock of everything. She took a moment to slow her brain down so that she could form actual words, though there were few. "I need you, Jon. Make me feel alive.." Maggie felt his lips brush against her own and fell into his kiss, her arms wrapping around his naked body.