CoF - Laure Alexander - TEAOW&S - The End: The Heart

Summary: Willow and Spike head home to face the consequences and have what may be one last intimate moment.

AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lara@sunflower.com
RATING: NC-17,
PAIRINGS: Willow/Spike
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the characters on the show. Joss Whedon and the WB Network own them (for now). No copyright infringement intended, so please don't sue.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow took a sip of her pop then put the plastic bottle back in the makeshift cup holder duct taped to the dashboard. Her fingers tapped randomly on the wheel as she listened to the pop music coming from the radio, trying to let the mindless sap distract her from thinking too much.

It was a telling sign as to how deep in denial and despair Spike was that he hadn't once complained about her choice of music.

As she passed the first sign with mileage to Sunnydale--one hundred--she sighed sadly and brushed a lone tear from the corner of one eye.

Willow returned from the bathroom slightly fresher and dressed once more. It looked like they were in some abandoned warehouse, and a peek through the slats of a boarded up window had revealed that it was late at night, the street deserted and the sky midnight blue and glittering with stars. Placing the candle back on a stack of crates, she slid to a seated position next to where Spike huddled in a ball on the floor wrapped in his duster.

Hesitantly she touched his shoulder and when he didn't bolt, she began to stroke him.

Mewling softly, Spike scooted towards her and buried his face in her lap again, letting her caress his shaking shoulders. They sat like that for a long time, until Willow's leg started to cramp and she pulled it out from underneath her, dislodging Spike.

He looked up at her, and her heart broke at his ravaged, tear- streaked countenance.

Ever so gently she brushed away a fresh tear from his cheek with her thumb. "I have to."

"That's so stupid, so wrong and insane." Yanking away from her, Spike rose to his knees as frustration pushed away the pain. "Don't you understand that I don't care if you're breaking your word?"

"I know, but it doesn't matter, Spike. Everything's been..." Willow struggled to put her muddled thoughts into words. ...leading to this, ever since you were shot. My promise to Angelus, his love for Buffy. I don't know how to explain this, but I just have this feeling that there's something bigger going on."

"Not visions, but I do have dreams. Dreams of being a vampire. Dreams of not. All tied in with you and Dru and Angelus and Buffy. I've been having them since the bond."

She shrugged. "I guess I figured they were just fear-induced, but now..." Willow shook her head haplessly. "Something inside me insists that I return to Sunnydale and give myself over to Angel. Maybe it's just my conscience, I don't know."

At the hint of hope in her voice, Spike cocked his head to the side and regarded her thoughtfully, the anger temporarily under control. "You think you can hold onto your love for me?"

Spike's eyes widened and he rose gracefully to his feet, shaking his head. "You're wrong."

"He had all night. He had his fangs at my throat, William, and he didn't bite. I finally fell asleep and I was sure that when I awoke I'd be a vampire, but he didn't do it. I don't think he really wants to."

Snorting, Spike began to pace. "Oh, he wants to. You're wrong, Willow. He was probably just trying to drive you nuts or something by delaying."

That stopped the pacing as Spike swung on her. "Beyond a shadow of a doubt, though I'm still amazed at it."

"Buffy will never forgive him if he turns me. I think that may have finally sunk in with him, and that's why he hesitated."

"They're all I have to grasp at," she replied softly. "I'm sorry, William, but I have to go back. You...you don't have to come with me," she stammered.

"There's no way in hell or on earth that I'll let you face that bastard alone," he swore, then continued silently, 'and when he turns you, I pray he kills me before you rise...'

Spike had given up on trying to stop her, and they'd left for California just before dawn. He'd wrapped himself in his duster and burrowed into the backseat. For awhile Willow had tried to talk to him, but he'd retreated again into frustration, anger, and fear.

She understood that, she felt the same things, but she also believed that all this was necessary. She couldn't say when she'd started feeling that way or just why returning to face Angel was so important, but all she knew was that she had to do it. The belief had truly manifested itself while she had held Spike as he cried.

Buffy and Drusilla were the ones whose dreams meant things, who got the weird feelings, not her, and she didn't know how to process them.

She really, really wished that her conscience had kept quiet and allowed them to keep running. The brave, determined face she'd put on for Spike covered a mass of fear and anger and downright horror.

Although she felt a glimmer of hope, Spike was probably right. Buffy's love wasn't going to be enough to stop him.

Seeing the sign for a rest stop, Willow pulled off the highway and into the parking lot. She stopped the car and got out, closing her eyes as the warm winter sun hit her face. Trying not to cry, she wandered over to a picnic table and stretched out on the top, basking in the last solar rays that would feel good and not deadly on her skin.

A couple of hours later, she sat on the table watching the sun set behind a row of trees. Melancholia filled her and she hugged her knees to her chest, her eyes moving slowly back and forth over the red and pink and purple sky.

Behind her she heard the sound of a car door open and close, but didn't turn. Their's was the only car in the lot.

"Yeah, something stirs deep inside," he replied slowly. "Something primal." There was a long silence, then he added, his voice empty, "You'll feel it when you awaken for the first time."

Willow turned on the table and saw that Spike was staring past her at the dying sun, his face a desolate mask.

"You don't have to," she protested as she slipped from the table and hurried after him.

Willow nibbled at her lower lip in worry, than hurried around the car, barely getting in before he peeled out of the parking lot.

They drove in silence for an hour. Spike had turned off the radio and drove with one hand on the wheel, the other one clenched around his knee. Willow curled against the door and watched him as evening dark filled the car. She was startled when he pulled the car off the highway, and glanced out the window to see the road to Sunnydale.

Fear nearly choked her, but she kept it inside, not wanting to give him a reason to turn the car around.

Just on the outskirts of town, Spike pulled the car into the parking lot of a deserted youth baseball field and turned off the engine.

"One last time," he whispered hoarsely, "to wipe out what I did to you last night, to feel your heart pounding against my chest and the heat of your body surrounding mine...one last time..."

Desire flared in the pit of her stomach and she nodded wordlessly before crawling over to him and pressing herself against him, her arms going around his neck as he turned on the seat and clutched her close. They kissed, at first lightly, almost reverently, but their mutual need quickly found them mewling and groaning as they devoured each others mouths.

Spike feverishly yanked the buttons of her shirt open, baring her breasts for his eager hands. Willow tugged his duster down his arms, then broke the kiss only long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head. At the first touch of her pebbled nipples to his smooth, cool chest, they both groaned and resumed the hungry kiss.

Trying to pull her onto his lap, Spike growled at the steering wheel, then fumbled for the seat release and shoved the bench back as far as it would go. Willow scrambled across him and kicked off her shoes, her hands and lips all over his chest as he peeled her jeans and panties down her legs.

Naked, she straddled his lap and undulated against the hard bulge in his jeans. Spike bucked helplessly and her back hit the horn in the middle of the steering wheel. At the loud noise, they both started, then stared at each other, before laughing helplessly.

"Oh god, I love you," he swore before fastening his eager mouth to one of her nipples.

Careful not to set off the horn again, Willow arched into his touch and whimpered as his tongue lapped at her hot flesh. Her hands found his belt and she fumbled with it, finally freeing it and the fly of his jeans. His cock sprang into her hands and she caressed him until he roared with lust.

"Inside...now..." he demanded, lifting her hips. Mindless with need, Willow guided his cock inside her wet, swollen channel and sank down. Her mouth found his in a deep kiss and her breasts pressed against his chest as she began to move. His hands remained on her bottom, kneading her soft flesh, guiding her as his own hips pumped upwards.

"Love...you..." she mumbled against his mouth, her fingers sliding into his hair and massaging his scalp as they moved together at a quick, hard pace. Willow began to pant shallowly and she rocked her hips forward, rubbing her hard little clit against his pubic bone with each thrust. Spike broke their kiss and buried his mouth in her neck, sucking hungrily on her sweaty flesh as he pounded his cock up into her.

Keening loudly, Willow felt her orgasm approach on a hot, wet rush, and she clenched her inner muscles around his cock, locking him inside her.

"Willow," Spike howled, flinging his head back as his balls churned with need. Her hands slipped down to his shoulders and her short fingernails bit into his skin as she squeezed and squeezed and finally gave a short scream as release flooded her.

As her muscles relaxed then fluttered wildly around his cock, Spike braced his feet and lifted his hips off the seat, stabbing deeply into her as his climax poured from him. Willow gasped and sobbed and squirmed on his lap, finally collapsing back and setting off the horn again.

Laughing with tears streaming down her cheeks, she flung herself forward and held him tightly as he lazily pumped into her, sending quivers of delight through her.

"Love you, too," Spike murmured, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head as she buried her face in his shoulder.

Hand in hand they walked up the path to the massive front door of the mansion, both somber and silent, yet having reached some kind of peace. As they stepped up to the door, Spike looked down at Willow and she squeezed his hand.

"Well, well," a deep and nasty voice drawled from a few feet inside, "Look who's come home."

"The prince and the princess have come to the castle to pay homage to the king," Drusilla murmured sadly. "Naughty, naughty, they shall have no tea. Pain will be their only sustenance." Sobbing, she collapsed in a heap of blue velvet.

And Angel stepped over her and slammed his fist into Spike's mouth. The younger vampire reeled back, his hand pulling away from Willow's. Angel grabbed her, yanking her squirming body over his shoulder, before turning his back on his favorite childe and striding down the hallway.

"She came back willingly, sire," Spike cried, his voice thick and garbled as blood filled his mouth.

"Please..." he begged as a group of minions came out of the shadows and a baseball bat sent him unconscious.

These authors spend lots of time to write these stories. If you took the time to read this PLEASE take the time to give them some feedback. Happy writers write more ;-)

Laure Alexander - lara@sunflower.com

Back to TEAOW&S

Continue - Next Story