Home : Stories by Author : Stories by JodyorJen : The Bad Boyfriend
Summary: A newly chipped vampire and a witch coming into her powers prove to be big trouble for the Slayer- and the Initiative.
AUTHOR: JodyorJen
EMAIL: jodyorjen@yahoo.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Spike/Willow
SPOILERS: Season4 through 'Something Blue'
DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century
Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.
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Spike lifted up his ankles and slammed them on the edge of the bathtub. The shackles made a loud and satisfying clank against the heavy porcelain. He repeated it over, and over, and over. "Stop that!" Giles barked from the living room.
"Passions is on!" Spike yelled.
"Be quiet!" Giles replied.
Spike smashed his ankles against the tub, increasing the pace. Clankclankclankclank... The bathroom door flew open, and Giles charged in. "I'm at my wits end, listening to your infernal racket!"
"Then let me out," Spike hissed.
"I'm not going to do that," the watcher replied.
"I'm bored," Spike complained. "I want to watch Passions, and I want out of here!"
"The last time I let you out of this bathroom, you seized the opportunity to run away," Giles pointed out.
"I didn't know better," Spike said. "I've learned my lesson." He did his best to look trustworthy.
Giles looked at him seriously. "Will you stop chipping my bathtub and making me deaf if I do?"
"I promise," said Spike.
With a sigh, Giles helped Spike out of the tub. The vampire shuffled into the living room, flopping onto the couch. He grabbed the remote and flipped the channel to Passions.
Giles picked up a book from the coffee table and began to read through it. Timmy and Tabitha began to argue on the show, and Spike laughed loudly. Giles looked at him oddly, and then turned to the screen. Despite himself, he began to watch the show, the book lying forgotten in his lap.
****
Willow sat on her bed in the dorm room, watching 'Passions'. She shoved her
hand into a jumbo bag of M & M's, her eyes riveted to the television. Textbooks
and a notebook sat untouched on the bed next to her.
The door opened and Buffy came in. "Hey, Wills," she said cheerily. "Good to see you up and functional." She looked at the TV. "What the heck are you watching?"
"Passions," Willow replied. "Have you ever seen it? It's really good."
"I don't know whether to be pleased that you're in a happy mood or scared that you're taking Spike's advice on television programming," said Buffy, sitting down next to Willow and taking some candy.
"Tabitha just did this really cool levitation spell," Willow remarked. "I think it could work." Buffy gave her a disapproving look. "Not that I'm doing any spells now. I'm being cautious. But the Oz missage seems to be down to a merely heartburny kind of feeling now."
"As soon as you're up to it you've got to do that forget spell for me," Buffy said. "I keep having icky Spike love flashbacks." She shuddered and popped some chocolates in her mouth.
The phone rang and Buffy got up and answered it. "Hello?" She smiled. "Hey, Giles. No, I can't. No, I really, really can't. I have a date." Buffy pulled the phone away from her ear. "Xander and Anya went camping. The only one who doesn't have plans is Willow."
****
Willow came through the front door of Giles' apartment, laden with a cooler and a backpack. "Hi," she said brightly, as she dropped her backpack next to the door and walked into the kitchen.
"You're late," Giles said, as he descended the staircase. He was dressed in a tuxedo, his hair slicked back with gel, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder.
She smiled at him widely, admiring how dashing he looked. "Wow. You look really amazing. "
He smiled bashfully. "I have a banquet," he explained. "Librarians of Southern California. I'll be back from Los Angeles by early afternoon tomorrow. Buffy has assured me that she will help you watch Spike, come morning."
"Let me outtttt!" screamed Spike, his voice reverberating off the tile.
Giles looked at Willow apologetically. "He's a little upset about being put back in the bathtub." He handed her a crossbow. "I suggest you leave him where he is, and just ignore all his noisemaking."
"I can handle him," Willow said confidently. "He can't hurt me, so there's really no need to worry." Giles smiled reassuringly and left, locking the front door behind him.
With a sigh, Willow set down the crossbow on the counter. She opened the cooler and moved aside bags of blue ice, pulling out Styrofoam containers of pigs blood and placing them in the refrigerator. "Can I have some blood?" Spike called. "It's been hours now."
"How'd you know I had blood?" she asked, cracking open a can of soda.
"I can smell it," he replied loudly from the bathroom. "Pigs blood, barely fit to drink, but I'm desperate. Are you coming to let me out?"
"I'm not supposed to go in there," Willow replied. She retrieved her backpack and sat down on the couch, pulling out a textbook and a couple of videotapes.
"I can't hurt you," he reminded her, adding a piteous note to his voice. "I want some blood. Pleaaase?"
"I'm not coming in," she said firmly. "Just settle down."
"It's inhuman, leaving me in here all day and night," he complained. "Not to mention that you owe me one. Doing your mojo on me; making me snog the Slayer."
"I said I was sorry about that," she reminded him.
"Yeah, you say you're sorry, but I'm not seeing it. Haven't done one single nice thing for me. You acted like it cost the earth just to give me a cookie," he said bitterly.
"I'm not letting you out, Spike, no matter how guilty you try to make me feel," Willow said.
"You could at least bring me some blood," he said plaintively. "I'm wasting away to nothing. I feel horrible, all chained up, no pillow, no blanket. It's a human rights violation, that's what it is."
"You're not human," she reminded him.
"I have feelings," he said. "I can be cold, and hungry, and bored, just like you, and not to mention my heartache. Blooming well dumped on my ass, and no one cares a wink about it. Can't eat, can't fight, can't even keep Harmony. It's a sad state, I tell you."
Willow walked across to the bathroom and opened the door. Spike was slumped down in the tub, the very picture of misery. "Harmony broke up with you?" she asked sympathetically.
"Won't even give me the time of night," he said sadly. "I mean, granted, I did some things to her I shouldn't have. But still, she could have given me a chance to work things out, instead of trying to stake me."
"I'm so sorry," Willow replied, her voice filled with sympathy.
"I was a bad boyfriend, I know that," he said. "But I've been burned, you know. It's hard to open up, when you've had your heart broken." He closed his eyes and sighed.
Willow took in the circles under his eyes, the fatigue in his face. "Will you promise to behave, if I let you out of the tub?" she asked.
He turned his head and looked at her seriously. "I've got no fight left in me," he said simply. "If you tried to stake me, I doubt I'd even care."
"Don't say that," Willow said as she helped Spike out of the tub. "There's always something to look forward to." He hopped along, burdened by the chains at wrists and ankles. Pathetically, he hopped to the couch, sprawling on it.
"Something like what?" he asked.
"Like," she said, looking around. "Like a movie. Those are fun." She picked up a video.
He tilted his head, reading the title. "The Seventh Seal?" he said incredulously. "That's your idea of something to live for, depressing Swedish drama?"
"It's a classic," she insisted. "It's one of the pivotal works of modern cinema."
"Death, chess, flagellation and witches," he said, "commonly regarded as the feel good flick of all time."
She looked at the tape in her hand and stuffed it back into her bag. "I'm just- sad," Willow countered. "I'm not in the mood for a big funny movie."
"Still getting over the guy that left town, right? Shapeshifter, phouka, something like that?" Spike asked.
"He was- is- a werewolf," Willow said frostily. "And I'm not discussing him with you."
"I told you about Harm," he said. "Seems only fair to share."
"I don't want to talk about it," she said. "I'll get you some blood, and you can stretch your legs, and then it's back in the tub with you, buddy." She went into the kitchen and poured a mug of blood, heating it in the microwave.
Willow returned, sitting on the couch next to him and holding the mug carefully while he drank through the straw.
Spike watched her, his eyes never blinking, and she shivered involuntarily. "What's wrong?" he asked, moving his mouth from the straw.
"Nothing," she replied, looking away. "I wish that I could uncuff you so you could do this yourself."
"Giles worked some kind of spell on the chains," Spike explained. "He doesn't want me running off again."
Intrigued, she set the mug down and took his hands in hers. "Reveal," she said softly, and the cuffs began to glow softly green.
"I wouldn't go messing with magick if I were you, pet," he said. "I think you've proven that you don't know what the hell you're about."
Willow glared at him, her eyes sparking green. "I'm a good witch," she said defensively, moving her hand around the shackles. "It's a locking spell," she decided. "I just need the password to undo it." She bit her lip. "Undo. Unlock, unfasten, un- something."
Spike watched her warily. "I like the cuffs," he said cheerily. "Really, they're nice and comfy. I don't mind them at all." She ignored him and continued to inspect the cuffs. He changed tactics. "You wouldn't want to upset the Watcher, or the Slayer. They're both still sore about the last spell, right?"
"Just be quiet and let me do this," she said. "Free, release." The cuffs stayed firmly closed.
"If I propose to you, or turn blind, I'll be extremely brassed off," he announced.
She stared at the cuffs, concentrating with all her might. "It's a tongue twister," she said excitedly. "I picked up on that much. Peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers!"
"Which witch wished which wicked wish?" Spike supplied.
"Do drop in at the Dew Drop Inn," said Willow.
"She sells seashells by the seashore," Spike said. With a click, the chains slipped to the floor. He immediately stood up and stretched. "That's much better," he said, picking up the mug and draining it.
"If you promise not to run away, maybe Giles will let you leave them off," Willow said. "It's not like you can hurt us."
"Thanks for rubbing it in," he said bitterly. "I used to be the scourge of bleeding Europe, and now I've become an exotic and unwanted house pet!"
"I'm sorry," she said. "Not that I'm sorry that you can't, you know, kill me, but I'm sorry that you're hurting." There was an awkward silence. "I have an idea," she said brightly. "I'll go to the video store and pick up a nice fun movie, and some snacks."
He perked up. "Could you get popcorn?" he asked.
"Sure, " she said, somewhat surprised, "and I can get candy, and soda, too."
"That would be grand. I like candy." He smiled at her, and she was surprised at what a difference it made. He seemed a lot less scary.
"You know what?" Willow said decisively. "I think you need a change of pace. Getting out of the house would be good for you. If you promise not to run away, I'll take you with me."
"I promise," Spike said solemnly.
"If you try anything funny, I'll have to get Buffy. She's still really peeved about the engagement spell. Any excuse to stake you, she'll do it. Seriously."
"I'll be good," Spike promised, as he put on his duster. "Very good indeed."
****
Riley and Buffy held hands as they walked down the street. "I really don't know what happened to our reservation," Riley said apologetically.
"I wasn't in the mood for stuffy French food anyway," Buffy said with a smile.
"We can go anywhere you like," he offered. "Italian, Chinese, whatever you want."
"Something light," she replied. "Kind of got a nervous tummy thing happening."
"This is supposed to be fun," he reminded her. "No pressure, no stress. Just relax."
"I do not know this relax word you speak of," she said. "Not in my vocabulary."
"I'm sure, somewhere in there, you remember how to have a good time."
"I don't know," Buffy said. "Lately, I don't think I'd know a good time if it bit me."
****
"'Evil Dead'," Spike crowed gaily. He picked up the videocassette and looked at the back of the box. "Ooh. This is brilliant. We've got to get this one."
"I don't like scary things," Willow said. "They make me nervous."
"Your best friend is a vampire slayer and your ex is a werewolf, and you're afraid of a horror movie?" he asked incredulously.
"I didn't say it was a rational fear," she said mildly.
"'Hellraiser!'" Spike said happily. "Look, it's Pinhead!"
Willow covered her eyes. "No, no Pinhead. Just the commercial gave me bad dreams."
"Don't be a twit," he said as he pried her fingers off her face. "Sissy." She looked at the box and squeaked, hiding her eyes again. "Oh, you're no fun," he said seriously.
"Let's pick a comedy," she said. "We're supposed to be getting something to cheer you up."
"I am cheered up," he said brightly. "I want to see one of these." He brandished 'Hellraiser' and 'Evil Dead'.
"I can't watch those," she said. "Really, Spike, they're too frightening."
"I'll protect you," he said.
"Gee, that's really reassuring."
"C'mon, don't be such a wimp," he said. "Show a little backbone." He rolled his eyes, clearly fed up.
"I'm not wimpy," she said hotly. Spike looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. "I'm not!" She grabbed the videos from his hands and they walked to the front of the store.
Spike perused the offerings next to the register, picking out packets of microwave popcorn and Milk Duds. "I want Junior Mints and a Dr. Pepper," Willow said. Spike opened the cold case and retrieved a couple of sodas, dumping the stack of snacks on the counter.
Willow handed over her video card and a crisp bill. Spike looked out the window of the store, spotting a pizzeria down the block. "Think you could spring for a pizza?" he asked her.
She wrinkled her nose. "Not really in the mood."
The clerk handed her a bag, and Spike took it from her, opening the door. "How about sushi?" he asked as they walked down the street.
"I like sushi," she said. "Tuna roll, salmon roll, miso soup. Good stuff."
"I love California rolls," he told her. "And tempura." On the opposite side of the street, a couple walked toward them. They exchanged a bit of conversation, and then kissed lightly.
Spike stood stock still, his face showing utter shock. "Bollocks," he whispered.
"What's the matter?" Willow asked, concerned.
He turned to her. "Please just go along, and don't scream," he pleaded quietly.
Her eyes wide, she nodded. Spike pulled her into an alley and pressed his lips gently against hers. The kiss lasted for an excruciatingly long minute. Finally he broke the embrace, and Willow slapped him across the face. "What's is wrong with you?" she asked, her face red.
"The Slayer," he said, his face pale. "She's with one of the commando guys. They're going to kill me!"
"Spike-" she began.
"I've got to get out of here," he said panicked, as he paced in circles. "I can't defend myself. I'm buggered, I tell you, bloody buggered."
"Just calm down," Willow said soothingly. "Buffy knows you're harmless. She isn't going to let anyone hurt you."
"You said yourself she'd stake me given half a chance!" he exclaimed. "Now I see her with one of the soldier boys. What do you think is going to happen?"
"How do you know it was one of them?" she asked.
"His voice, his height, his smell. I'm a vampire! I know how to track people. It's kind of my job!" he snapped.
"Okay, okay," she said, as she patted his shoulder. "Let's just go back to Giles'. Everything will be just fine," she promised. He looked at her dubiously, clearly not buying it.
****
"That was really weird," said Riley, as they walked past the alley.
"What?" asked Buffy.
"I thought I saw Willow, making out with some guy."
"Not likely," Buffy said with a laugh. "She's deeply entrenched in post breakup blues."
He looked down at her affectionately. "So, feel like sushi?" he asked, stopping in front of a restaurant.
"Is stinky fish breath really a good idea on a first date?" she asked.
"It is if you're both stinky," he said. "Kind of cancels each other out."
"I'm game then," she said. He held the door open and followed her inside.
*****
Willow struggled with the keys, trying to open the front door to Giles' apartment.
"Hurry up," Spike hissed.
Willow got the door open and they both went inside. "I told you that you have nothing to worry about."
"I've got to get this chip out. I'm not going to just lie down and die like a dog," Spike ranted.
"Just relax, Spike," Willow said soothingly.
"If I find the commandos, they'll stake me," he said, pacing, "If I don't find the commandos, I can't fight, can't do anything."
"I won't let anyone hurt you," she said, holding up her hand solemnly. "I promise I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, as long as you can't hurt me or my friends. Giles and Buffy and I, we'll help you."
"Help me what?" Spike asked angrily. "Help me understand why I'm neutered? Help me comprehend that I'm a sodding laughingstock? I was somebody! I had minions!"
"It'll work out," Willow said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. She went into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of vodka and two tumblers. She filled them and handed one to Spike. "Things happen, and there's just no way to see it coming. All you can do is, just deal with it."
"It's like a nightmare," he said, gulping his drink. "I keep hoping that it's all a dream, and I'll wake up, and everything will be the way it was before."
Leaning forward, she pulled out a box of candy from the plastic bag. "Work through the pain," she suggested wryly. "Personally, quite tired of working through the pain. Magick didn't work too well. Chocolate, and getting to that nice buzzy place, where your mind goes blank and you just sort of are, that's as good as it gets." She popped a Junior Mint in her mouth and gulped her drink. Spike watched her, looking puzzled. "Cuts the taste of it, if you kind of pour it through the candy," she explained.
Spike watched her, and followed suit. "That's pretty good," he said. "The mint, the vodka."
She nodded, popping another candy in her mouth and taking a long swig of vodka. "Better already," she said with a smile.
He poured himself another glass and drained it. "You're right," he said. "Much better."
Willow finished off her glass and pulled out the videos. "'Evil Dead' first?"
"Whatever you want," he said, watching her.
*****
Riley scooped up the last of the green tea ice cream. He held out the spoon to Buffy, and she closed her mouth around it. "Good, huh?" he asked her.
"Mmmm," she said, smiling.
Riley gestured to the waitress, and she brought over the check. He handed her a credit card and she took it away. "What would you like to do now?" he asked Buffy. "I was thinking maybe we could take a drive."
"I'd like that," Buffy said sincerely. "But I should probably check in on Willow."
"You're worried about her?" Riley asked. "Because of Oz leaving and her taking it so hard?"
"More or less," Buffy said. The waitress brought back the tray, leaving the card and a couple of fortune cookies.
Riley handed one to his date and cracked open the other. "You know, I really could have sworn that I saw her, Buffy. There aren't that many little red haired girls with questionable fashion sense in Sunnydale."
"I assure you she's not skulking around alleyways, kissing on guys," Buffy said, opening her cookie.
Riley looked thoughtful. "The guy, he looked familiar. I could have sworn I'd seen him before. Blond hair, long leather coat, black jeans." He pulled out the paper strip. "'Prepare to expand your horizons.' What's your fortune say?"
Buffy's eyes widened. "I need to make a phone call."
"That's a funny one," he said, taking the slip of paper from her hand. "No, it says 'fortune favors the brave.' That's almost as weird."
He looked up, and saw Buffy standing at the pay phone. She called Giles' apartment three times, but no one answered.
*****
Spike shut off the VCR and finished off his glass of vodka. Willow was slumped over, sleeping on the sofa. He looked at her for a minute, and then unzipped her backpack. Opening her wallet, he slid out the cash, stuffing it into his pocket.
Willow stirred, sighing quietly as she rolled off the couch. Spike dropped the wallet back into the backpack and caught her before she hit the floor. She looked up at him with surprise. "Hey, it's Spike!" she said with a smile. "You in the evil wanna eat me mode or the fun buddy mode?"
"Time for beddy bye," he said, carrying her up the stairs. "I think you had one Junior Mint too many, plum."
"I've got to brush my teeth," she said somberly. "It's important, to avoid cavities, and yucky tartar buildup."
"You'll survive," he assured her. "Your pearly whites will be just as sparkly come morning."
Spike set her down on the floor in the bedroom. She wobbled, and he grabbed her shoulders. "You're nice," she said. "You even cried when Ash chopped up his girlfriend."
"I did not," he protested. "I had something in my eye."
She fumbled at her jeans, trying to unfasten them. "These button fly's, they're too tricky."
He helped her unbutton them, and she flopped down on the bed. He grabbed her ankles and pulled, and the jeans slid off. He tossed them aside. She rose up her arms expectantly, and he pulled off her fluffy white cardigan, leaving her in a camisole. She leaned back, and rested her head on the pillow. "I'm in Giles' bed," she said. "I used to have a whole fantasy about being here."
Spike smirked. "You had a schoolgirl crush on the Watcher? Guess there's no accounting for taste."
"It's the accent," she said, closing her eyes. "Plus, he has really big hands."
Spike pulled the covers over her and closed the door. He walked downstairs and stood still for a moment, thinking, then gently raised Willow's sweater to his nose, and breathed deeply. He took off his shirt and jeans and grabbed a pillow and throw from an armchair, tossing them on the couch for a makeshift bed. In the mood for a nightcap, he poured himself a glass of vodka.
The door crashed open with a bang, and Spike whirled around. "What the hell is going on?" said Buffy, Riley following behind.
He backed away, covering his exposed parts with the pillow. "I was getting a drink," he explained.
"Buffy! What are you doing?" asked Riley.
"Where's Willow?" Buffy said angrily, as she advanced on Spike.
"I'm right here," said Willow, as she ran down the stairs. She slid across the floor, and Spike grabbed her, putting her between himself and the Slayer.
"You're the guy," Riley said, pointing at Spike. "I saw you two together earlier." He turned to Buffy. "I told you I saw Willow with a skinny blond guy."
Spike and Willow exchanged a look, and he nodded. "That's right," Willow said brightly. "Spike's my- new boyfriend." She put her arm around his waist, and realized that he was naked. "I mean, obviously, because you know, I'm in my panties and he's-"
"Not wearing any?" Buffy supplied.
"I'm sorry that we just barged in here," Riley said earnestly, blushing as he looked away from Willow. "You weren't answering the phone, and it's pretty obvious why. So we'll just get going."
"We're not leaving," Buffy said grimly.
"Of course we are. We're obviously intruding," Riley laughed nervously, pulling on her hand.
"Everything is just fine," Willow said, looking at Buffy seriously.
"I can't see how," Buffy said, staring at Spike. He met her gaze, his chin held high.
"It's all good," Willow said reassuringly. "We'll compare notes in the morning, I promise. All the dirty details." She flushed, her cheeks flooding with color.
"I can't apologize enough," Riley said. "Really. Why don't we all go out to dinner tomorrow night? My treat."
"That's not necessary," Willow said.
"I insist," he said. "We'll meet up here at seven tomorrow. I won't take no for an answer." He tugged Buffy by the elbow, closing the front door firmly behind them.
Willow turned and looked up at Spike. "Riley's the guy you saw, the commando?"
He nodded seriously. "He's the one."
"Riley doesn't seem like the oppressive type," Willow said thoughtfully. "Are you sure?"
Spike gave her an exasperated look. "Yes."
"Okay, well, that's fine," Willow said. "He thinks you're my boyfriend, so he won't hurt you."
He laughed harshly. "Soon as Buffy can rid herself of GI Joe, she'll be back to finish me off."
"If she does come back, I'll be here to talk her down," Willow reassured him. She put her hand to her eyes. "My head is a little twirly."
Spike guided her up the stairs and back into bed. "Get in," Willow said sleepily. "The bed is big enough for a few more people. You can have at least one night of comfort before Giles puts you back in the tub." She reached out for his hand, pulling him down onto the bed.
"I can't sleep," Spike protested. "I nod off, and next thing I know I'll have a stake in my chest."
"I'll take care of you," Willow said, yawning. She flipped the covers over him and closed her eyes.
"I don't need a little girl to look after me," he said angrily. "Few days ago, you would have been my breakfast."
"Things change," Willow said, as she drifted into slumber.
Spike rolled onto his side and moved a stray wisp of hair out of her face. He propped his head on his hand and watched her sleep, his brow furrowed with confusion.
Willow woke up to a familiar throbbing in her lower back and a warm trickle between her legs. She tried to sit up, but there was something holding her down. Spike was fast asleep, his face resting against her thigh.
"Spike," Willow whispered. She leaned down and tapped his shoulder.
He opened his eyes and looked up at her blearily. "Willow?"
"I need you to get off me," she explained. "I have to get up."
He rolled onto his side. "What’s the matter?"
"Nothing," she said hurriedly. She crossed her legs and sat up slowly, hoping that she hadn’t leaked blood on Giles’ sheets. Her head throbbed, the world tilting. "Oh, God." She cupped her head in her hands, trying to make it stop. "I think- I think I’m still drunk."
"Want me to fetch you something for your head?" he offered.
She took shallow breaths, trying not to puke from spinning and the throbbing onslaught of her cramps. "Can you get me my backpack and some aspirin, please?"
Spike got out of bed quickly, rushing downstairs and locking the bathroom door. "Too close," he whispered, as he brought two bloody fingers to his mouth. He sucked voraciously, and the taste burst across his tongue. Not just blood, witch’s blood, musky with the taste of sex and magick. His body surged with arousal, his cock hardening in seconds. After licking every trace of her blood from his hand, his body hummed with hunger.
He had to have more. She’d never let him, willingly, but he just had to have it. Damn chip, complicating every sodding thing. He opened the medicine cabinet and rummaged through the Watcher’s pills, looking for something that would knock her out. Finding some muscle relaxers, he shook two into his hand. In the kitchen, he poured a glass of cold water, grabbed Willow’s backpack from the living room, and made his way back to the object of his desire.
Willow was lying against the pillows, her arm thrown over her face. Spike slid into bed next to her. "Here you are, pet," he said soothingly, sliding his arm under her neck and tilting her torso so she could drink the water and take the pills.
"That’s so much better," she said, as he set down the glass on the bedside table and turned back to her.
Spike put an arm around her waist and leaned his face in to the back of her neck. Need flared through him as he smelled her luscious scent, with the seductive undercurrent of her rich, pungent blood.
"I have to get up," she said sleepily. "I don’t want to stain the sheets."
"Don’t you worry a bit, Wicca," Spike whispered in her ear. "Let Spike take care of everything."
Within minutes, her breathing evened out, and Spike turned her to face him. She was deeply asleep, her head tilting back, revealing her long, pale neck. Spike leaned forward and traced his tongue across her skin, trailing down her neck to her shoulder, and she didn’t react.
Spike slid down the bed and took off her panties, then lifted her hips and slid his tongue inside her. Gently he sucked her blood, glorying in her aroma and essence. He was fiercely aroused, his body screaming to fuck her and bite her, drink the sweet arterial blood he could hear surging through her.
Willow didn’t move at all, only the beating of her heart indicating she was alive. He wanted to hear her react to him, see her rouse to passion underneath his hands. Taking her now would be so easy; she’d never know the difference. His need for her would be quenched for the moment, his raging desire appeased. But he wanted her to want him; he knew he could make her crave him, the way that he craved her.
Spike drew a hand across her stomach, captivated by her smooth skin. Her camisole twisted underneath her breasts. Pulling down one of the straps, he slid it down her arm until one small breast was revealed. He leaned forward and sucked on her nipple, stroking his cock with his hand.
"Nice," Willow said sleepily. "Don’t stop." Spike bent his head and suckled her more, and she made little gasping noises that made his arousal burn even brighter.
He felt Willow’s hand slide across his thigh, closing around his erection. She stroked him and he licked her breasts, his mouth sliding up to lick and bite her neck. She shuddered underneath him, her strokes faster and faster on his hard length. "Take me," Willow whispered. "I want you so much."
Elated, Spike slipped inside her body. He stroked in and out, and she was smooth and lush and tight around him, and soon he was coming. She bit his shoulder with sharp little teeth as she came with a shudder, and he vamped out, his demon stoked by the sensory paradise of musk, blood, and her ardor for him. He rested his forehead against hers as his release went on and on, intense as shards of glass.
He was panting hard as he realized that her eyes were open, staring straight into his. "My sweet girl," he whispered.
"Yellow eyes," she said sleepily. "Thanks for not eating me, Oz." Stunned, Spike jerked out of her body and rolled off of her.
She was fast asleep again in seconds. Spike licked her thighs clean of blood and semen and cleaned himself off as well with his rumpled t-shirt. He should have been thrilled, lulled by sex and sweet human blood. Instead, he was annoyed and aggravated. She didn’t want him; she wanted Oz. And why should he care, who this dizzy little Wicca wanted?
*****
Spike woke up alone in the large wooden bed. He helped himself to Giles’ dressing gown and went downstairs. In the kitchen, he poured himself a mug of blood and set it in the microwave to warm. He drank it, put some coffee on, and was rustling through the cabinets when the sound of the pipes rattling in the walls attracted his attention. Willow walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel, her hair wet.
He followed Willow to the living room, watching her bend over to sort through her backpack. Spike leaned forward to appreciate the view, the round globes of her ass bared as she picked up a blue zippered pouch. "Want some coffee?" Willow shrieked and dropped the pouch, the contents scattering across the floor. "Christ, you're jumpy," he remarked, bending down to help her gather up her things.
She shooed him away, waving her hands in the air. "Go away, go away!"
Spike looked at her, perplexed. "Are you daft? What the hell is the matter with you?"
"Go!" she said, looking down at the floor. Her hand was clenched to the top of her towel, holding it closed.
"What, all this fuss because I see you in a towel? You're covered from knees to neck, pet; not much to see."
She looked up, her face flushed. "Just go back to the kitchen. I'd really, really love some coffee, ok?"
"Cream? Sugar?" he asked politely.
"I don't care," she said sharply. "Just go to the kitchen, now." She pointed.
"I'm not your damn dog," he said, losing his temper. "I was being perfectly nice to you, and you snapped my head off for no reason at all."
"Spike-" she cut in.
"You wouldn't treat me this way if I could bite you," he snarled, his lip curling with anger. "You wouldn't dare talk to me in this fashion. You'd be begging, that's what you'd be doing." He advanced on her menacingly, and she backed away from him.
"Just calm down," Willow said.
"Don't you bloody well tell me to calm down," he said, backing her in a corner. "You don’t respect me, do-" He stepped down on something slippery, and it crinkled underfoot. Bending down, he picked up a maxipad, its plastic wrapper torn.
Willow snatched it out of his hand and grabbed a pair of panties from her backpack, stalking to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. "That’s what’s got you all overwrought and emotional about nothing?" He snorted. "Women."
"You are such a man," she said through the door.
"Vampire," he corrected her.
Willow came out, walking briskly past him to grab her backpack. "Blood is life," Spike said, watching the beads of water roll from her wet hair onto her shoulders. "Nothing to be ashamed of."
"Stop saying blood," she said, pulling a clean shirt and skirt from her bag. "It’s gross."
"Blood is lovely." His eyes never left her, watching as she tucked a hank of hair behind one ear.
"Will you stop talking? Please?" She turned to walk past him, but he stepped in front of her.
"You act like you’re walking around leaking a biotoxin, not blood. It’s a natural process, innit?" he said.
She flushed, but she met his eyes. "I’m not normally self-conscious about it," she said. "But I’m almost naked."
"I noticed that," he said, looking at her appreciatively.
She glared at him. "That isn’t funny."
"What’s not funny?"
"Teasing me," she said angrily. "Just because I’m not-" She cut off, looking miserable.
"Just because what?"
"Just because I’m not all big boobs and sexy singing and seductive and stuff doesn’t mean you can make fun of me," she said.
He looked at her oddly, confused, as she pulled her towel higher up her chest. "You think you’re not attractive," he realized. "Where do you get that from?"
She looked away. "Well, there’s the fact that the guy I spent most of life loving ignored me for years, or the fact that for most of high school I couldn’t get a date to save my life. Or, most importantly, the fact that the only guy I’ve ever been with cheated on me, and then couldn’t get out of town fast enough," she said lightly.
"Dru cheated more than once when we were together," Spike said. "Do you think it had to do with her, her problems, the mess in her own head? Or was it me?"
"You loved her so much," she said softly, remembering him crying on her shoulder after Drusilla had left him. "I’m sure it wasn’t anything you did wrong."
"And you really loved the werewolf," he said. "So why do you blame yourself, for him leaving?"
Willow’s face crumpled, and she tried not to cry. "If I’d done things differently, if I’d been more to him, more what he needed-"
Spike put his hand on hers, and she looked up at him, her eyes wet. Gently, he wiped a lone tear from her cheek. "What Dru did hurt, but I didn’t let it break me. No one should have that kind of power over you."
The front door banged open, and Spike blanched. "It’s the Slayer!" He moved to run, and Willow grabbed his hand.
Buffy strode in, stake in hand. She took in Willow in a towel and Spike in the robe. "Do you people ever wear clothes? Did we become the Sunnydale extension of the Playboy Mansion and no one bothered to tell me?"
"No one invited you to the Grotto, Slayer," Spike said.
"Spike, you’re not helping," Willow said. "Go upstairs while I talk to Buffy." She went into the bathroom and slammed the door. "I’ll be out in a minute, Buffy," she called out.
The vampire and the Slayer exchanged glances, and Buffy’s hand tightened around her stake. Spike quickly darted up the stairs.
Buffy sat down on the couch, and looked at the empty decanter of vodka and boxes of candy on the coffee table. She picked up the video and looked at the title, frowning. Willow came out, dressed in a long skirt and a flowing top.
"Is this about me?" Buffy asked. "Is this because I’ve been spending time with Riley and not you?"
"What?" said Willow, genuinely flummoxed.
"This weird thing, with Spike," Buffy elaborated. "How could you?"
"I feel sorry for him," Willow began.
"Sorry for what?" Buffy snapped. "That he can’t get all psycho killer any more?"
"Sorry because he’s totally adrift," Willow said. "He can’t be evil, and he doesn’t know how to be good, and he’s so afraid, Buffy. It’s so sad."
"So you’re going to adopt him, like a stray puppy?" Buffy asked. "You can’t even take care of yourself. Ever since Oz left, you’ve been a total mess. This is just another way for you to fall apart."
"I’m not falling apart," Willow said hotly.
"Casting spells that go all wrong, blowing off your classes to watch TV and eat chocolate, wearing minimal clothing with the undead. Does that sound normal to you?"
"I’m coping," Willow said. "Pardon me for not bouncing back in a blink when my heart gets broken."
"Grievy rebounding with Spike is insane," Buffy said.
"I’m not getting it on with Spike!" Willow exclaimed.
"Then why did you tell Riley he was your boyfriend?" Buffy countered.
"I was protecting him," Willow explained. "Riley is one of those commando guys that invaded our dorm. Spike’s terrified that Riley will recognize him and take him back to the lab."
"Riley’s not a commando guy," said Buffy, laughing. "Upstanding young graduate student, not part of some secret military organization."
"Spike’s positive," Willow explained. "He recognized his voice."
"Spike’s an idiot," Buffy said. "He’s trying to pull one over on you, and it’s working."
"What does he have to gain by lying to me?" Willow asked.
"Well, so far looks like he got out of his chains, out and about in town, some candy and alcohol, and a night in bed with you." Buffy said. "Am I wrong?"
"No," Willow said, coloring. "But it’s not like that."
"Look, Willow," her friend said. "You don’t have to lie to me. If there’s one thing that is important to me, it’s the truth."
"So are you going to ask Riley about the commandos?" Willow asked seriously.
"Of course not," Buffy replied. "How am I going to work that into a conversation?" She sighed. "Plus, he was pretty upset about me barging in here last night. He’s totally serious about taking you and Spike out to dinner to apologize."
"Fine with me," Willow said. "It’ll give me a chance to feel him out, find out if he does have something to do with the evil Boy Scouts."
"I’m not going to let you interrogate my boyfriend," Buffy said intently.
"And I’m not dropping it," Willow snapped. "You can let this dinner go ahead tonight, or I can tell him exactly why I know about the commandos in the first place. "
Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise. "That would be outing Spike as a vampire, and me as the Slayer!"
"Which would be okay, because the truth is so important to you," Willow retorted.
Buffy looked away. "Well, fine. We go through this phony date, and I’ll trust you to get Spike looking and acting quasi-normal."
"Riley’s already seen Spike-" Willow broke off, thinking that when the Initiative had tried to capture him, he’d been wearing exactly the same clothes he had on now. "Well, maybe getting him into some different clothes would be a good idea. Although, I have no idea how I’ll get him to act normal. He’s- Spike." She smiled. "What’s he going to talk about? School, sports, computers? He doesn’t know anything normal."
Buffy furrowed her brow. "I wish you would act normal too, Will. You are so totally lying to me about what’s going on with you and Spike. Look at you all- crushing on him, and you’re lying to me, to my face! I feel like I can’t trust you any more." Buffy stalked away, closing the door behind her.
Willow stood in the center of the living room, stunned. She headed upstairs to the bedroom. Spike lay in Giles’ bed, reading a thick book on magic. "Slayer’s in a snit. She didn’t mean anything by it," Spike said, his eyes understanding.
"Oh, she meant it," Willow said, her voice wobbling. "Every word."
"Why are you protecting me, when it’s causing you so much hurt?" he asked intently.
"Because it’s the right thing to do," she said, pressing on her eyes. "It’s wrong to bully people who can’t defend themselves. And it’s really, really wrong, to think that because you believe someone is inferior to you, that gives you permission to hurt them."
"She’s the Slayer," he reminded her. "It’s her job to kill all the beasties that go bump in the night."
"And the commandos?" she said. "Are they all Chosen too?"
"This is not your fight," he said. "Something hunting demons, that’s not your concern." He put down the book and looked at her seriously.
"You’re more than a demon," she said. "You’re a person. You didn’t ask to be turned, did you?"
His face impassive, Spike said, "No, I did not."
"Then this is something that happened to you, not something you asked for. Why should you be punished for that?"
"Because I kill people," he said baldly.
"I could kill people too," she said, her face stark. "I’m powerful enough."
"But you wouldn’t because you’re good," he said. "I’m a creature of darkness-"
"I can harness the powers of darkness!" she said vehemently. "Should they put a chip in my head to stop me?"
He sighed and walked over to her. "You’re such an innocent, petal. You don’t have a clue what evil really is. If you had any sense, you would stake me yourself." He leaned in close to her. "If you knew the things I’ve done, the things I want to do, you wouldn’t hesitate," he whispered, his mouth inches from hers.
The phone rang, and Willow startled. She walked to the bedside and grabbed the phone. "Hi," she answered. "Hi Giles!" She lay back on the bed, her damp head resting on a pillow. "How’s L.A.? Oh? That sucks. Well, I know the car was kind of on its last legs. No, things are fine here, no reason to rush back. Yes, Buffy was here earlier." Spike lay down on the bed behind her as she listened to the phone. "Okay. Bye." She hung up and turned to Spike. "Giles won’t be back until Monday."
"Gee, I’m crushed," he replied.
"You like me better as a babysitter, huh?" she asked him.
He looked at her, his unblinking stare disconcerting. "I like you a lot better, love." He reached out his hand and traced along her collarbone.
She startled. "What is with you, with the looking and the touching?"
"I think you can figure it out," he said huskily. "You’re a very smart little girl." She stared at him in disbelief as he took her hand in his and closed his mouth over her middle finger. He stared up at her with his penetrating eyes as he sucked at her skin, his mouth cold and slick and smooth.
Willow snatched her hand away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest and she stared into his eyes. ‘You know you want him’, a voice said in her mind. ‘You know you want to feel that mouth on your breast, between your legs…’
She scrambled off the bed as if it had burst into flames. "I’m going out for a while," she babbled. "You don’t have to worry about Buffy coming back."
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I’m going to take my bike to the mall," she explained. "Pick out a new shirt and pants for you."
"What’s wrong with my clothes?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "You don’t think I look good?" He looked down at his black on black ensemble.
"You look great," she said. " I mean you, always look really sexy." He looked at her with eyebrows raised. "I mean- you have that bad boy thing going. That’s really- " He smiled and licked his lips, looking very pleased with himself. "Anyway, I was just thinking something a little more blendy. More J. Crew, less- leather."
Spike frowned and crossed his arms. "Too bad. I’m not letting you dress me."
"The more normal you look and act, the more smoothly things will go," she explained.
"You really think that commando boy will kill me if I don’t pass the dress code?" Spike said. He looked at her distraught face.
"Please," she said. "Just do it for me."
"I do a favor for you, you do a favor for me," he negotiated.
"You’re not doing me a favor by wearing new clothes," she said. "You’re saving yourself."
"I don’t do things I don’t want to do," he said. "So you need to make it worth my while."
"What kind of favor?" Willow asked.
"That would ruin the surprise of it." Spike looked at her predatorily, and she shivered.
"Nothing sexual, and no blood," she said, the words tumbling from her lips.
He smiled. "Done." He stood up and waved at the door. "Let’s go. I’ve got a car down the block."
"It’s daylight," Willow pointed out. "You can’t leave."
"Have blanket, will travel," he said, grabbing the comforter from the bed and pulling her out the door.
******
Willow stood in front of a mannequin at the Gap, pointing out its blue rugby shirt and khaki pants.
"No," Spike said flatly.
"What’s wrong with it?" asked Willow.
"It’s hideous," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.
"I think it would look pretty on you." He gave her a scathing look. "Okay, how about this?" she said, holding up a blue polo shirt.
"Please," he said, scoffing.
"Okay, let me remind you what the goal is here," Willow said seriously. "You need to like a regular guy." She held up a madras plaid shirt and a pair of pleated chinos.
"I see plenty of guys walking around, and they don’t all look like they’re heading to a sodding sock hop," Spike said, gesturing at the other customers in the store.
Willow looked at him thoughtfully. "Fine. Let’s go." She took his elbow and led him from the store. They walked down the concourse of the shopping mall and Willow pulled him into a novelty shop. They passed racks of bumper stickers and shelves of gag gifts. Willow stopped at a display and started pulling things off of it.
"What is all this crap?" Spike asked, fingering a leather collar with small metal studs.
Willow smiled at the vampire. "You’re going to pretend to be what you really are." She held up a t-shirt. "I’m So Gothic, I’m Dead," it declared.
****
Willow finished her preparations in Giles’ bedroom and walked downstairs. Immediately, she was struck by a powerful smell. Spike appeared to have pulled the cushions off the sofa and the armchairs, making a cozy nest on the floor. He was wearing his new shirt and leather collar, his hair streaked with blue tufts that had taken her an hour of careful application. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Getting good and stoned," he replied, his voice smooth and mellow. He looked up at her and smiled. "God, you’re lovely." She was wearing a fuzzy pink sweater and a long black skirt, her mouth shining with some sparkling gloss.
She noticed the small brass pipe in his hand, the baggie full of green buds lying next to him. "You’re doing drugs?" she said, shocked.
"Gladly," he said, as he sat up and lit the pipe, sucking the smoke into his lungs.
Willow stomped over to his side and tried to take the pipe away from Spike. He moved it away in a flash. "Where did you get this from?"
"I found it with the spell components," he said with a lazy smile. "Between the lamprey root and marshmallow."
"Giles wouldn’t keep marijuana," Willow said, horrified. "It kills brains cells."
"It’s his stash, love," Spike pointed out. "He doesn’t seem intellectually deficient to you, does he?"
"I can’t believe he would do something like this," she said.
"It’s just a little pot," Spike said with a chuckle. "Not like he’s mainlining heroin, pet."
"It’s a gateway drug," she said earnestly. "One little puff, and you know, you want the harder stuff."
"Do you believe everything you’re told?" he asked her.
"Of course not," she said defensively.
"I assure you, just getting a little bit of a buzz will not make you one step away from the crackhouse." He held out the pipe and lighter. "Calling in that favor, Wicca. Toke up."
She looked at the pipe as if it were a viper. "Not a chance."
"Nothing bad will happen," he assured her.
She looked at Spike distrustfully. "I don’t really want to do this. I’m a good girl." He smirked at her, and she blushed with embarrassment. He must think she was a total dork.
"Even good girls can have a speck of fun," he said. "It’ll make you feel relaxed, and mellow, and you’ll like it. Trust me." He got up, flipping the switch for the turntable. Putting the needle in the groove, he closed the cover, putting his arm around Willow and guiding her down into the heap of pillows.
"Relaxed would be good," she replied. "I’m so nervous about tonight."
"Live a little," Spike whispered, lighting the pipe and handing it to her. Willow looked at him, eyes wide, and he nodded encouragingly. Putting her lips to the pipe, she inhaled deeply. She coughed, barking, and Spike rubbed her gently between the shoulder blades.
He lit the pipe again for her and moved her hair to the side. "Once more," he said in her ear. She inhaled slowly, her eyes shut. "Just hold the smoke in your lungs for as long as you can, until they burn a bit, and then blow it out," he said.
She did as he instructed. "I don’t feel anything yet," she said.
"Just one more hit, and that’ll do you," he said. She lit the pipe and inhaled, waiting a few seconds before exhaling a thin stream of smoke.
Spike set the pipe in an ashtray and stared at her. His eyes were rimmed in black eyeliner, and they seemed so blue, like a Wedgwood candy dish her mom kept in the fancy living room. "What do we do now?" she asked him.
"Close your eyes and listen to the music," he suggested. She leaned back into the soft pillows, and did as he asked.
"Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup," the song began.
Willow started to feel panicky. What was she doing here? Lying next to Spike, on drugs? Her head filled with insistent, chastising voices: Xander, her mother, Giles, Buffy….
"Stop thinking," Spike instructed, his thumb gently skimming across her fingers. She splayed her hand across his stomach, and he breathed in deeply. He brought her hand to his mouth and licked her palm, his tongue tracing delicate swirls on her skin.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "We can’t do this," she said. "Even if there’s sparkage, there’s no point acting on it."
"Why not?" he said.
"It’s a bad idea," she replied.
"Seems to be very good so far," he said, his voice husky. "Very good." He turned his head to look at her, and his mouth descended, covering hers. She opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue inside. They explored each other, the embrace soft and lingering. Willow broke the kiss, and buried her face in his chest. He put his finger on her chin and pulled her mouth back up to his, his fingers twining in her hair as they kissed more and more deeply.
He pulled her sweater off and flicked the front clasp of her bra open, sucking her hard nipple into his mouth. "Oh," Willow squeaked in surprise. He lapped at her with the strong muscles of his mouth, licking and gently biting her delicate skin.
In a rush, Spike moved back up to her mouth, his hands twisting in her hair as he shifted between her legs. He rocked against her with his stiff cock, growing harder and harder with each thrust. "You like that?" he asked raggedly, breaking their kiss.
She blushed. "I can’t actually feel it," she said.
He frowned and slid his hand under her skirt. Pressing his hand between her legs, he felt the cotton maxi pad that was wedged between the two of them.
Spike slid down and pulled off her skirt, and then hooked his thumbs around her panties. Pulling them down her thighs, he revealed the cotton pad slightly stained with blood.
"Stop. Wait." Willow said nervously as he tugged them off and tossed them aside. He leaned down to part her thighs, and she grabbed his shoulder.
He looked up at her. "What’s the matter?"
She tugged at his shoulder. "Just come up here for a second."
He did, lying next to her on the pillow as she stared up at the ceiling. "I know this isn’t really a sex thing for you," she said quietly. "I understand that it’s a food thing, not a Willow thing. It’s not really about me."
He opened his mouth to deny it, and she turned to look at him. "And that’s okay. I’ve heard- things, from other girls I know about guys, doing- you know," she said, waving her hand at waist level.
"Going down on a girl," he supplied.
"Right," she said. "And I know it’s usually something guys only do when they really, really love a girl, because it’s, you know gross and the um… the smell. Especially at this time of the month…" she trailed off, beyond embarrassed.
"Women smell good," he said. "Specially there, love." He kissed the corner of her mouth. "Specially you."
She blushed. "Most guys won’t do- that, even if they do love a girl, and there must be some reason why, and maybe it’s because, you know, their girlfriend, she may just- not be appealing that way…"
Spike slid his hand across Willow’s abdomen, making her gasp. He dipped his fingers between her legs, sliding two digits inside her lips. Slowly, he pulled them out and raised them to his mouth. Willow looked away as he slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked. "Look at me," he said, when his fingers were clean of her blood.
She turned her head and looked at him. "It’s okay if you don’t want to," she said. "My feelings won’t be hurt."
He took her hand and pressed it against his throbbing erection. They looked into each other’s eyes. "Never wanted a girl as much as I want you," he said. "Never craved the scent, your taste, it’s so-" He shook his head, at a loss for words.
"Why me?" she asked, stunned.
"You taste like magick," he said simply, and in one swift gesture, he pulled apart her thighs and shoved his tongue inside her. She screamed, and he drove his tongue in and out, fucking her mercilessly as he made his tongue as long and hard as possible. After several minutes she began to buck and shake, and blood and her musky juices filled his mouth. As she began to peak, he kneaded her abdomen with his hands as he sucked strenuously, and a torrent of rich, dark moon blood filled his mouth. When it slowed to the barest trickle, he moved his mouth to her swollen clit, gently licking and sucking until her tiny hard bud was revealed to him. He brought her to a second orgasm, and the sounds of her screams, the scrape of her nails on his neck and the ecstasy of her blood filled him with euphoria.
Spike pulled away from her. She was a rosy pink and gasping for breath, her eyes closed. Her neck was bared, and he was drawn to the throbbing blue vein that pulsed underneath her skin. He felt his features shift as the world funneled down to this girl, this moment.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, hazy from drugs and orgasm. "Yellow eyes," she said dreamily.
He unfastened his pants, hurriedly, desperate to enter her. "Have to get inside you again," he said, thrusting inside her. "You feel so good. My sweet girl."
Time seemed to stop as the haziness faded from her eyes, replaced with awareness and fiery anger. "You jerk," she hissed furiously, pushing him off.
"Willow, let me explain," he said, scrambling backwards.
She advanced on him, her body filling with rage and a sense of violation. "You slept with me!"
"I thought you wanted me!" he said forcefully.
"Why would you think that?" she asked, her hands shaking with anger.
"Because that’s what you said!" Spike exclaimed.
"You’re a liar!" she said angrily.
"You’re the liar!" he yelled, pointing at her. "Lying to yourself! Did you think I was your beloved werewolf? Maybe last night, yeah! But who was it you were thinking of just now, while I was inside you?"
"Stop!"
"Me!" Spike yelled. "You knew damn well it was me! I’m the one that can give you what you want. I’m not the one that hurt you and fucked around on you and deserted you-"
"Shut up!" she shrieked. A bolt of scarlet exploded from her hands, hitting him in the chest.
Spike stared at her in surprise as bolts of red energy flared across his body. "Willow?" he said questioningly, and then he crumpled to the floor.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is not a redemptionist story, folks. Season 4 Spike is evil and cruel. Squicky bloodplay is featured in this story. Yes, again. No one ever accused me of being creative.
DEDICATION: To the ever patient Claudia, who is willing to go along for the ride, and for the Voice of Reason, who keeps me true.
“Spike!” Willow slid to her knees next to the fallen vampire. Red currents of energy trailed over his body, and Spike twitched, his body jerking as if he had been electrocuted. “No, no,” she muttered, unable to understand how she had done this to him, or how to make it stop.
A wave of nausea and pain overwhelmed her as a torrent of blood ran out of her nose. She tilted her head back, pinching her nostrils shut. Blood poured into her mouth, choking her, and she coughed.
Spike groaned and stirred next to her. “What the hell did you do to me?” he asked, cradling his head as he sat up.
“I dun know,” she said, her voice all congested.
“Why did you-” he ranted, and then looked at her, taking in the situation. “Bloody hell!” He pulled her into his lap and leaned her backwards, cradling her in his arms. “It’s alright, Wicca,” he assured her. “No worries.” Blood had run down her chin and neck, and it was still flowing.
“It’s nod sdopping,” Willow said, her eyes welling with tears.
“Rest easy.” Spike brushed her bangs off her forehead and took her bloodstained hand off her nose.
“Whad’s happening to me?” she whispered, looking up at him with wide, scared eyes.
“There’s a reason for ritual, baby,” he said, concerned. “You can’t just let the magick take you over. Get yourself killed that way.”
“I didn’t even mean to do it. It just happened!” Willow began to panic, weirded out by the magick and him and the entire situation.
“Hush, now,” he said quietly, and bent down and closed his mouth over her nose. She tried to push him away but he was holding her tightly.
“Dop it!” Willow said, but Spike didn’t. His mouth, oddly, felt soothing and nice, and the pain began slipping away. Willow felt herself falling back into the easy lassitude she’d felt before their fight; before she zapped him.
She looked up at him, and blood was smudged on his lip and chin, his eyes dark. “The bleeding’s stopped. Thank you.” She felt odd. The world seemed hazy and slow, and her head felt light.
“My pleasure,” he said huskily. His head descended slowly, and she knew he was going to kiss her. Willow could feel his erection pressing against the back of her thigh, and he had that look in his eyes again. The look of “I’m going to pin you down and screw you.”
“I didn’t mean to turn you on again,” Willow explained, trying to defuse the situation. She tried to wriggle away, but she just wound up grinding against him. He closed his eyes, his mouth opening in a silent hiss. “I’m not a tease. I’m not doing this to you on purpose.”
“You can’t help it, any more than I can help responding to it.” He was infatuated with her, craving the magick that sizzled within her blood. He’d tie her to him, and then he’d have the extra firepower he needed to rid the world of the Slayer once and for all.
“Sorry about hurting you,” she said apologetically. “You made me really angry, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t even know how I did it.”
“I do,” he replied. “You’ve come into your power. It’s in you now, running through your veins.” He smiled at her, looking pleased. “I told you I could taste it.”
“I don’t understand,” Willow said. “Magick’s something you summon, not something you are.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn. There’s so much darkness inside you.” Spike’s face shifted, his eyes glowing yellow. “Just like me.”
Willow screamed and struggled to get away from him as he flipped her on her back, pinning her to the ground with the weight of his body. Spike grabbed her chin and moved his mouth to cover hers, and she encountered the sharp feel of his fangs. She held her eyes tightly shut, pretending he was Xander, or Oz. Someone safe. He moved his mouth away and shook her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “See me.” She did, and he locked her in with a forceful gaze. Willow was drawn into the alien amber of his eyes, the onyx pupils. ”‘What do you see, Willow?” he asked softly.
Images flashed through her mind. Spike in vamp face, snarling as he cracked the neck of a man in fatigues. Buffy on her knees, crying. A dark haired woman tossing a skinny black box at the retreating back of a tall, blonde man.
“Deeper,” he said seductively. “Go deeper inside me, Willow.” Inside the yellow of his eyes were tiny bubbles, roiling across the surface like water at a brisk boil. She stared inside the bubbles, and found herself. Bucking in a pair of handcuffs, her hair sliding across a pillowcase as her mouth opened in a silent scream. Sitting cross-legged in a circle, her body glowing with a steady yellow light. Spike smiling down at her as he fastened a ruby necklace around her throat, the heavy chain cold against her skin. A wrist pressing to her lips, scarlet drops cascading down pale skin.
“Kiss me,” Spike whispered, and she moved her mouth to his, her hands clenching in his soft hair. “That’s it, my witch. “ Her tongue slid across the slick surface of his fangs, and she loved the way it felt.
Willow whimpered with need and Spike slid his cock between her legs. He didn’t feel the same inside her; he felt larger and harder and rougher then he had before. The muscles of his shoulders were different, too, and the feel of his legs against hers. The knowledge of his monstrous features against her, within her, produced the rush of a bungee jump times infinity.
It was hard to catch her breath. She felt like she was drowning, being swept away by an undertow much stronger and faster than she was. “So tight,” he growled. He nipped her neck, and it felt good, another layer of sensation. It was surreal, having Spike, sliding in and out of her, his big hands clenching her hips. It didn't seem real.
Willow whimpered as a wave of pleasure rolled through her, a strong tug from belly to breasts. She cried out, thin, high noises that she didn’t even recognize.
“I love fucking you,” Spike muttered, his voice strained. “How slick and soft and warm you are. How your skin feels against mine. Those irresistible noises that you make.”
He kissed her as he moved in and out of her smoothly, their movements slow and fluid. A feeling of bliss overtook her, the melty feeling she used to get when Oz rubbed her back for her. But she didn’t want to think about him; she wanted to think about Spike. Just Spike. The fear of him receded, replaced by something tender.
His arms tightened around her as they kissed deeply. “You like my demon,” he said, whispering in her ear. “Turns you on.”
“It’s so strong and powerful,” she said. “I can feel it in you.” She pressed her hand to his chest, and he shuddered.
“Like calls to like,” he said, and bit down on her neck, two tiny pinpricks sliding into her skin. A surge of adrenaline filled her, the fear of death combining with the rush of sex to produce a keen sharp euphoric high. She came with a shudder, swept away by a wave of pleasure mixed with pain.
Spike pulled his fangs from her neck and gasped, and a flood of wetness surged inside her. They lay together, gently kissing, hands trailing along each other’s backs. “Did I hurt you?”
“It felt so good,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But how did you do it?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Could be it stopped working, could be because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You don’t want to hurt me?” she asked, running her hand across the back of his neck.
“Not unless you like it,” he said, smiling widely.
“I don’t know yet,” she whispered. “Let’s find out.” She bit down hard on his neck and he gasped. She sucked hard and bit him, and he put her hand on his cock.
“I wanted to take you under with me, make you feel the way I do,” he whispered. “You crave me now, don’t you?”
“I want to be yours,” she whispered, kissing his chin and nuzzling his neck. “I want to feel you inside me again.”
Spike hissed with pleasure. “You make me so hot. All I want is to take you and drink you. You’re so sweet, with all those shadows underneath.” He pulled her face away from his neck and kissed her passionately. Willow dug her nails into his back as she jabbed her tongue against his fang, filling their mouths with the taste of her blood.
Someone knocked on the front door, and they both looked towards it. “Sod the dream date with Ken and Barbie,” Spike said, his voice low and sultry. “I’m not done with you yet, not nearly.”
“We have to go,” said Willow, pulling away. “We have to find out about the commandos, to keep you safe.”
“I’ve got a massive cockstand here,” Spike griped. “I can’t just-”
She slid down between his legs and closed her mouth around the head of his cock. “Willow,” he hissed, as she opened her throat and took him in, sucking hard around nearly his entire length.
She sucked hard as she massaged his balls with her hand, and Spike began to thrust in her mouth. “That’s it, baby,” he hissed. “So close now.”
The rapping at the door persisted. “Just a sodding minute!” Spike screamed out.
Willow slid her finger into his anus as she skimmed his length with her teeth. He came into her mouth with a loud moan, his hands twisted tightly in her hair.
Willow pulled away, wiping her mouth. “Coming!” she called out. She put on her panties and tights, and stepped into her skirt. “Get dressed!” she whispered at Spike. He lay on his back on the pillows, his eyes closed. “Come on!” she said quietly, fastening her bra. He blinked and got to his feet, walking towards the door. She picked her sweater and looked at the deep vee neck with dismay. “Hurry up!” she hissed, rushing up the stairs.
Spike pulled on his pants and buttoned them. Still tasting Willow’s blood on his lips, he licked it away. He put on his shirt and opened the door, revealing Riley and Buffy. “Evening,” he said smoothly.
“You guys ready to go?” asked Riley. “We’re running late.”
“I’ll just grab Willow,” Spike said, and closed the door in their faces. He grabbed his duster from the back of the couch and put it on. “Oi! Everyone’s waiting on you, Red,” he called up the stairs. He pulled on his boots, leaning over to tie the laces. Waiting for a minute, he charged up the stairs.
Willow was rummaging through Giles’ closet. She yanked a black turtleneck off a hanger and pulled it on over her bra. It was huge, the sleeves dangling inches below her fingertips and the hem above her knees.
“What’s wrong with your pink sweater?” Spike asked. “That shirt looks blooming ridiculous.”
She frowned. “I need to cover the bite mark.” She pulled up the neck of the shirt as far as it could go.
“Shame to cover up my brand,” he said. “Going to make a lovely scar.” His very own witch, powerful as hell and bound to him by thrall. He smiled, just thinking of the mayhem they would create.
“Come on, before she breaks the door down,” Willow said. She walked past him, rushing down the stairs. He followed her, watching as she grabbed a hideous knitted poncho from the coat rack and stepped outside.
She was waiting outside the door, and she locked it behind them. They turned and Buffy and Riley were sitting on the fountain in the courtyard, chatting.
“Sorry we kept you guys waiting,” Willow said brightly, taking Spike’s hand in hers. “Where are we going for dinner?”
“I made a reservation at Good Fortune,” explained Riley. “It’s just a few blocks away.”
“Sounds great,” chirped Willow.
“One of the finest establishments in this hustling metropolis, I’m sure,” commented Spike. The quartet headed down the street.
“I hope you guys are hungry,” Riley said. “This place has the best all-you can-eat Chinese buffet in Sunnydale.”
Spike looked at the large, muscled man next to him. “I’m starving,” he said with a big smile.
Willow looked at him nervously. “Well, you can just pig out at the buffet, and then if you’re still hungry, you can have a bite at home later.” She grinned at Spike as he turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. Buffy turned and stared at Willow, her brow furrowing.
They stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn green. “So, we haven’t officially met yet,” said Riley, turning to Spike.
“I’m Spike,” the vampire said agreeably.
“Spike?” Riley said with a frown. “As in, the guy Buffy was going to marry, Spike?”
“You know about that?” Spike asked, confused.
“Sort of,” Riley said. “Buffy said it was a joke.”
“It was,” Buffy explained. “Just a really- bad joke.”
“And now you’re dating Willow,” Riley said. “Or is that some kind of joke, too?”
“No,” Spike replied. “Nothing funny about that.”
The light turned green and they continued on. “How did you two meet?” asked Riley.
There was a long, awkward moment. “Spike’s in a band,” Buffy supplied.
“Right,” Spike said. “Drums.” He did an imaginary drum roll.
“So you’re a musician like Oz,” Riley said. “Did you two know each other?”
“Only by reputation,” Spike elaborated. “Hard act to follow, there.” His grip tightened on Willow’s hand and she squeaked. “Sorry, petal,” he murmured.
“No big,” she said, and he lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it.
“So you’re here with your band?” Riley asked.
“My band kind of- broke up,” Spike said. “Guess you could say I’m between gigs at the moment.”
“He’s staying with Giles until he gets his next move figured out,” Willow offered.
“I wouldn’t think Sunnydale would be a big draw for musicians,” Riley commented. “There are only a handful of venues here.”
“Oh, for my kind, this is Mecca,” Spike said. “You take your stand in Sunnydale, you’re a headliner.” He smiled at Buffy and licked his lips, and she glared at him.
“And you have family here, I guess?” Riley asked. Spike looked at him blankly. “How is Giles related to you?”
“Uncle,” Willow interjected. “Spike is staying with his good old uncle Giles.” Buffy smothered a snicker, turning it into a cough.
They walked down the block and reached the restaurant, two large statues of Hunan lions guarding the door. “Three minutes to spare,” Riley said, looking at his watch. He held open the door.
“Riley really enjoys being prompt,” Buffy explained.
“He’s dating you, I imagine he needs to find his thrills where he can,” commented Spike, sotto voice.
The Slayer turned and flicked him off, and he waggled his tongue at her. “Pervert,” she mouthed.
They walked into the restaurant and waited at the hostess stand. Soon, they were escorted through the main dining area to a back room. The lighting was more dimly lit, and the room was empty. As soon as they were seated, Willow stood up and hung her poncho off the back of her chair. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, grabbing her backpack. She leaned over and pecked Spike on the lips.
“I’ll go with you,” Buffy said hurriedly. The two girls walked off in the direction of the bathroom.
“I wonder why they do that,” Riley said to Spike.
“Some bizarre herd instinct, I suppose,” Spike commented.
Riley sipped on his water. “I know this really isn’t any of my business,” he said. “And I’ve really given some thought to whether to say anything. But I really feel I need to.”
Spike looked at the other man. “Warning me off Willow, or something else?”
Riley blinked with surprise. “Willow.”
“She’s been hurt, she’s on the rebound, don’t hurt her, something like that?” Spike asked, tilting his head.
“That’s pretty much the gist,” Riley said. He toyed with a pair of chopsticks on the table. “I don’t know her very well myself. But I do know that Oz leaving really did a number on her.”
“And you don’t see why she’d pick a bloke like me to take up with, after a paragon like him?” Spike said dryly.
“It’s not that,” Riley said. “It’s just-” He paused, considering his words. “It was like something died inside her, after he left. She walked around like a zombie, her eyes blank. I mean, she walked out in front of a car-” He cut himself off.
Spike looked at him seriously. “You telling me Willow tried to off herself?”
“I don’t know that it was intentional,” Riley elaborated. “I’m just saying- be careful.”
“You’re saying she’s damaged,” Spike said. He was in her head now; he knew the cracks in her mind firsthand. He could easily push on her weaknesses and shatter them himself.
“I’m saying that she’s vulnerable,” Riley explained. “This is not a girl who is up for a fun fling.”
In the ladies room, Willow was touching up her makeup while Buffy looked on. “What is going on?” Buffy asked, furrowing her brow.
“Well, right now I’m applying lip gloss,” Willow said. “Want some?” She extended the tube to her friend.
“I’m not talking about stupid lip gloss!” snapped Buffy.
“Nothing’s going on.” Willow frowned at her reflection and reached in her bag for a hairbrush, smoothing out her hair.
“You’re the worst liar in the entire world,” Buffy replied.
Willow laughed, the sound echoing off the tile. “Right. So says Miss ‘Spike’s in a band’.” She took a glass vial of patchouli out of her cosmetic bag and unscrewed it, applying it to her wrists. She lifted her hand to her neck and dabbed the oil on under her shirt. “Ouch!” she said, dropping her hand and wincing.
“What’s the matter?” Buffy asked, her eyes fixed on Willow’s neck.
“Nothing,” her friend replied, pulling up her turtleneck.
Quick as a flash, Buffy yanked it down, revealing Spike’s bite marks in the neck of her best friend.
“The evil bastard!” Buffy hissed. She turned and grabbed the doorknob. “He is so dusted.”
“No, Buffy!” Willow said, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t!”
“He tried to kill you!” Buffy said angrily. “How can you defend him?”
“He wasn’t trying to kill me,” Willow said calmly. “It was a sexual thing, something we both wanted.”
Buffy pulled away with a jerk, looking at her friend with dismay. “Gross! And suicidal, Willow!”
“No,” Willow said. “It was wonderful, and amazing.” She smiled at the memory, her face lighting up.
Her newly found bliss did not sit well with the Slayer. “I knew you were lying to me about him!” she exclaimed. “I knew you had a crush on him.”
“I didn’t then,” Willow said. “But things are different now.”
“How could he even do it?” Buffy asked. “He’s not supposed to be able to bite anymore.”
“I’m glad he can,” Willow said. “I’ve never felt anything like it in my life.”
“That’s because it can make you dead,” Buffy snapped, her voice seething with anger. “I really hope Spike enjoys his meal, because that vamp has seen his last sunset.”
“You can’t kill him,” Willow said, looking earnestly into her friend’s eyes. “That’s just not going to happen.”
Buffy hugged the witch tightly. “Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal. I promise.”
“You can’t stake him,” Willow protested.
“Watch me,” Buffy replied.
“If you stake him, you may as well stake me too.” Willow’s face flooded with pain. “I don’t quite know how it happened- but I think I’m falling in love with him.”
Buffy looked at her in disbelief, and then snapped her fingers. “This is some kind of spell!” she exclaimed. “Like what you did to me! You did this, somehow.”
Willow clenched her hands together angrily. “It’s not a spell! We’re meant to be together, eternally. How can you- trivialize it? He is my destiny, Buffy!”
“If I have to hear any more about this, I will stake myself,” Buffy said. “This Spike love thing is so very over.” She turned and stormed out of the bathroom.
Willow ran after her through the dining room, and soon they reached their table. “Something wrong?” asked Riley, standing up.
“I’m not feeling well,” Buffy said. “Can you please go to the drugstore and get me some aspirin?”
Riley looked at her with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I have a bad headache from the MSG,” Buffy explained.
“You haven’t eaten anything,” Riley pointed out.
“Fumes,” the Slayer explained, waving a hand in the air.
“Are you going to be okay?” Riley asked, concerned.
“I’ll be fine,” Buffy said. Riley kissed her forehead and left the restaurant.
As soon as his back was turned, Buffy whipped a stake from her jacket. Spike stood up, knocking his chair backwards. “Don’t do this,” Willow said. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
The Slayer and the vampire ignored her, circling each other with deadly intent. “You never should have come back to Sunnydale, Spike,” Buffy said. “How many times do I have to smack you down before you figure out that you suck at being a bad guy?”
Spike laughed. “I am so sick of your crap, Slayer. You have got a serious kick in the ass coming.” He tilted his head and smiled at her. “After I drink you dry, I think I’ll tear out the throat of Commando Boy. Teach him that his kind messed with the wrong demon.”