The Charms of Dancing
By: Anastasia

Part One 

The Bronze was, as usual, crowded. Bodies writhing against each other under the cover of dancing,
touching, blood coursing through the young laden with lust and youthful hormones. Amongst this
throng of foreplay the most seductive and noticeable couple were the slight blonde girl with her older
dark companion, closer and more frantic than those surrounding them. A desperate desire burned
through their movements as they danced on oblivious to the fact that what they both so strongly
desired, the actual act of love, could never be realized. 

From her spot on one of the many couches scattered around the Bronze Willow watched her friends.
She watched as Buffy movements set Angel on fire with desire, watched as Angel pulled her
impossibly closer to his writhing body and how they locked together in their need, swaying together
knowing that they could do no more than this. So engrossed was she that Willow missed the lean
body settle next to her on the couch, the feet resting on the low coffee table in front of her and the
arm slung casually along the back of the couch nearly touching her shoulders. Effectively Willow was 
now trapped in the corner of the couch. 

"Hello, little girl," the North London accent and smirking attitude of the voice distracted Willow from
her preoccupation. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she turned her head to see Spike calmly smirking
at her. Anticipating her reaction to jump up and run screaming in horror to the slayer, he placed a
light restraining hand on her arm. "Don’t fret pet, I’ve already eaten, just thought I’d pop in for some
entertainment." 

With that he let her go and began searching through his pockets for his cigarettes. All she could do
was stare at him dubiously, mouth agape at his arrogance. 

"D..d..don’t you think you could have picked a..a..a better spot?" she stuttered. "I mean Buffy is just
over there." She said, indicating Angel and Buffy who were totally oblivious to all that was going on
around them. 

Spike looked toward the couple and let out a muffled snort as he lit his cigarette. " She’s too
wrapped up in that great poof to notice poor little me." He stuck his bottom lip out in a mock pout.
"So that just leaves you witch!" He turned to grin wickedly at Willow. 

"Me? For what?" she gulped, thinking that was not the question to ask a vampire who was so blasé
about the slayer being only a few feet away. She could feel her whole body tense as Spikes blue
eye’s pierced her, a burning sensation rushed through her. <Oh, this is not good. In fact that is such
an understatement. Change topic before he can answer!> 

"So, where’s Drusilla?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling with worry while her mouth twisted into
what she hoped was a ‘I really care’ smile. Again Spike smirked at her, loving the very fear she gave
off. It was such a joy. 

"She’s out and about, stumbling around the countryside trying to find me." He said with a flick of his
wrist toward the door. 

"Oh. Here in Sunnydale?" <Polite conversation, that’s good. Buffy? Why are you not here? Can you
be completely blind?> She turned her head back to the dance floor at the still oblivious couple. <This
song can’t go on much longer! Hurry up!> 

"God no," he practically roared with laughter at that. "I left her in Brazil. After a small amount of
torture she was quite happy to follow me around – got a bit boring after a while. She wants me now
she can come and get me! Last I heard she wasn’t doing to bad – she should be here within the
week." He glanced up at the dance floor and shook his head. "Look at that bloody pathetic excuse
for dance." He wriggled around on the couch, creeping even closer to Willow. 

<Great, I’m desert. BUFFY, get your hands of Angel for once and help me! Okay don’t panic. He’s
eaten – that doesn’t mean he’s not hungry or at least looking for a snack! Oh, what did he say about
dancing?> She turned her head again only nearly to collide her own forehead with Spike’s. He was
intently staring at the dance floor and the couples on it. Willow hadn’t realized he was so close.
Thankfully he was quite content to carry on the conversation. 

"I mean what is the challenge, eh? Lock bodies together and squirm? It’s disgusting." He spat the last
word out and looked at Willow. "So how come you’re not out there rubbing against a body?" 

"Well, Oz … he’s um, well he’s not, you know, here." She didn’t even try to smile this time, he was
too close for comfort. 

"Oz?" he questioned not taking his eyes off Willow. Willow broke his gaze and let her eyes wander
down to the pale hand that held his cigarette. 

"Yeah, you know. Oz … my boyfriend. What is wrong with the dancing? I think it’s, kinda, well,
kinda, sexy." <Don’t mention sex to vampires – oh no, major rule broken. Buffy, anytime now.>
Willow could feel Spikes gaze on her still, the comment plus the stare made her skin flush. <Thank
goodness for bad lighting. How pale is his hand?> 

"Well, Willow," he let her name rumble in his throat as he spoke softly into her ear. "This is no
challenge. It may be ‘sexy’ but it isn’t exactly seduction, is it?" Willow glanced up to his cold blue
eye’s for a moment before turning to look at the dance floor. "I mean, bodies pressed tightly to
another isn’t seduction – it’s nothing more than a mutual agreement of sexual satisfaction. Give me the
tango or good old jive, one person in complete control, the other yielding to your every whim.
Chance meeting of flesh, power, control and domination. Building a trust in the other person to let
you do what will give immense pleasure to both. Teasing touches of flesh, constant eye contact,
bodies telling each other what they want, not this bloody bury your body in mine crap. You only
dance with your boyfriend? That’s new!" 

"What?" Willow’s head snapped around to stare at Spike. She had been captivated by his voice and
the allusion he was creating. Then he said something about her boyfriend? 

"Got to go, little girl. The sensual petting zoo is about to come to an end." Before she could even ask
what he meant, he was lost in the crowd of the Bronze and the music stopped. 

"What?" Willow said, more to herself than anyone else, still contemplating Spike’s comment on her
boyfriend. 

"What, what?" asked Buffy as she flopped next to Willow, flushed and frustrated. Angel stood,
looking equally frustrated – flushed didn’t really work for him. 

"Nothing! Thought I heard someone call me. You know, um, Bronze, people call out names all the
time – might have meant me, could have, easily, I’m sure." She suddenly realised she was rambling.
"So I was just saying what, for the person who called me." She offered, brow wrinkling, knowing she
should tell Buffy of the conversation with Spike or at least Spike’s presence. But no, she couldn’t do
it. Again the reminent of a reasurring smile came to her lips. "Must have been some other Willow,
though. No one answered." 

"Lot’s of other Willow’s? Sure. You had more coffee, didn’t you Willow?" Buffy looked at her friend
an eyebrow raised in question. Thankfully she turned her attention to the still agitated Angel. "Are you
going to stand for the rest of the night, ‘cause if you are I’d rather do it on the dance floor!" She
grinned wickedly at him, causing him almost to wince. 

"No, I’ve really got to get going." He raised his hands to show surrender. 

"Well, I should patrol. I could walk with you if you like?" Buffy suggested, smiling at him seductively. 

"What about Willow?" he querried. <Thank you, Angel. I so don’t want to go home alone with Spike
lurking about.> Willow grinned at him with thanks, knowing Buffy would have left without giving her
friend a second thought since lust was the only thing she seemed to have on her mind. 

"Hey guys." Xander broke the silence that had been impregnating the little group. 

"Xander, I thought you weren’t coming back until Sunday," cried Willow joyful of the distraction he
caused. 

"Well I knew you guys couldn’t spend a Friday night without me." He joked sitting down in a chair. 

"Joyous family occasion was cancelled then?" asked Buffy. 

"In a word. Yes. So here I am. What say we party on?" he grinned at the two girls on the couch. 

"Well, I was thinking of going home. I have a heap of work to do – you know, Hacker stuff."
Shrugged Willow. 

"And I was just about to go and patrol." Buffy added. 

"Okay, patrolling sounds good. Scary, but better than a lonely Bronze," Xander didn’t even wait for
Angel to say anything. "Let’s go Buffy. Hey Dead Boy, you’ll see Willow gets home okay?" 

Xander didn’t even wait for an answer before he jumped up and started pulling Buffy towards the
door. 

"Um, bye guys!" was the last thing they heard from Buffy before she and Xander disappeared into the
crowd. 
  

Part Two 

"Angel?" Willow shot a glance at the vampire by her side. He was in serious brood mode, eyes
downcast and hands thrust deeply in the pockets of his jacket. 

"Mmm?" He replied. 

"Do you like dancing?" she looked forward and into the dimness of the night. She didn’t see his head
swing to look at her. 

"Well, I suppose so." His brow furrowed as he looked at her, surprised by the question. 

"I guess you’ve seen a lot of dancing in your time. Which did you like best?" she kept her eyes
forward, eager for the answer. 

"Um, I don’t know Willow. They all have their merits. I haven’t really thought about which I prefer.
Why the sudden interest?" he turned his attention back to the night. 

"Someone made a comment tonight…about today’s style of dance and how it didn’t, well, um, didn’t
present much of a, well, a challenge..." Willow could feel herself blushing and just let her stuttering
statement hang in the air. <Quiet time right now would be a good idea.> 

"I’ve never really thought of it…that way." He cleared his throat and glanced at Willow again. <I am
going to have to find out who she was talking to!>. His thoughts were interrupted as he placed a
restraining arm across Willows stomach to halt her movements and bought a finger to his lips to
indicate his need for silence. Angel turned his head and listened. Nothing, but the unmistakable aroma
of vampire drifted through the night air. "Come on, let’s get you home Willow." 

"What is it Angel?" she received no answer except a guiding hand on her arm hurrying her along. 

The rest of the walk home was in silence. Angel lost his need to brood and Willow favored the need
to take it up. Her mind kept wondering back to the conversation with Spike. She hated to admit it
but he was right. If you liked a guy and wanted to let him know it was easy to wait for a slow song
and then ask him to dance. No challenge. Not that she had actually ever done that, but it was a
known trick of the "Do You Like Me" game. Then again there were the comments Spike had made
about the other types of dancing. This sent Willow into a kaleidoscope of thoughts concerning the
type of dancing she had seen in her life. Xanders dances did nothing for her, apart from amusement.
Buffy and Angel, well their style of dance was exactly what Spike thought of as unchallenging. Other
occasions when she had seen people, other than her immediate peers, dancing had been affairs
where everyone had consumed copious amounts of alcohol and their main objectives had been
staying upright and trying, unsuccessfully for the most part, to dance in time to the music. <Not a lot 
to go on!> 

"Willow…Willow…Willow" it was a case of third time lucky for Angel to break through the barrier
of thoughts that had surrounded Willow. 

"What?!" she jumped back startled. Looking up her eyes widened with surprise as she realised they
were standing at her front door. 

"Are you okay Willow. You seem distracted." Fumbling with keys she barely heard Angels question. 

"Oh. Oh. I’m fine, just …" she couldn’t think of anything to justify her current frame of mind. She
looked up to see Angel studying her intently. "Tired! Really tired. Long day and night. So I’ll go
inside now and you can go. Unless you want to come in or not…?" 

Willow stepped inside her door and gave him a reassuring smile. 

"No, if your tired I’ll let you go." He stood looking at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he
watched her. <Maybe she is tired.> "Goodnight Willow." 

"Okay. Bye" she said as he turned and walked away. She shut the door checking the bolts and
leaned against it for a while. She hadn't lied, she was tired. All right so she hadn’t told the complete
truth, but she hadn’t lied! <What should have I said? By the way Spike is back and you two were to
involved in each other to even notice that I could have been desert!! No couldn’t have said that!>
With that thought, she moved up the stairs and drew a deep hot bath with the intention of having a
nice long soak. <Hope I don’t fall asleep in it!> 

She walked back to her room and turned on the radio picked up some clothes and went back to the
bathroom. Leaving the door open so she could listen to the music, she stripped off and slowly sank
into the water. <Bliss.> It was the only thing that came to mind as she let the heat of the water work
away the aches and stresses of the day. Willow allowed a soft smile to form as she heard Tal
Bachman’s "She’s So High" come on the radio. Without realizing it she began to tap her foot in time
to the music. The verse came and she couldn’t help but sing at the top of her voice. She giggled as
she allowed herself to sink back into the water. All thoughts floated away as she let the warmth of the
water engulf her body, leaving it weightless. <I’ll just rest my eyes for a moment, then I’ll get out.> 

Willow’s peace was shattered, some ten minutes later, by the piercing shrill of the ‘phone.
<Answering the ‘phone be damned! I’ll never make it before the machine gets it anyway.> She
waited, listening for the machine to pick up the call. 

"Hi, you’ve reached the Rosenberg residence. Unfortunately we can’t take your call at the moment,
but if you leave your name and number we’ll get back to you as soon as possible." 

BEEP 

"Hey Wills, it’s Buffy. Just ringing to see if your okay, Angel said you seemed a bit wigged. We’re
just going out for another patrol. Guess your sleeping. Well, call me tomorrow and we’ll do
something. Yeah. Okay. Bye." 

"Okay. Bye Buffy!" Willow yelled, and giggled to herself. <Poor Angel. It was nice that he was
concerned though. I have to get out of this bath before I turn into prune girl.> With that she reach
over and pulled the plug and reluctantly got out. She lathered herself with Freemans Raspberry body
lotion and pulled on a pair of midnight blue silk shorts and a white tank top and sauntered back to her
room. 

<Time to check my messages.> Willow grabbed her laptop and took it to her bed and started
checking her e-mail. Not too much was going on, well wishes from friends, queries from
acquaintances and various junk mail. She hated those. A tap at the French doors of her room roused
her from her uncharitable thoughts of what she should do to the junkees. She glanced at the clock,
barely one in the morning – who could it be? 

"Willow, quick! I need you to let me in!" she heard a faint strangled cry come from the doors with
another gentle rap. Without hesitating she ran to the doors and flung them open stepping out to help
her…friend? She felt cold fingers encircle her wrist and firmly tug her from the room and onto her
patio. 

"Lord, that was just too easy!" too late she heard Spikes comment and accompanying laughter.   
  

Part 3 

<I am going to die!> Those were the first thoughts that ran through Willows mind when she heard
Spikes comment. Suddenly the world spun literally and for the briefest moment the only thing Willow
was completely aware of was Spikes cool hard grip on her wrist. 

"Well, fancy seeing you here pet." The world stopped spinning to leave Willow standing on the lawn
of her backyard with Spike smiling at her. 

<I am going to die, in my backyard…without underwear! I am going to die at the hands of a blood
sucking fiend and my only concern is underwear…> Her thoughts began to express her blind panic
and would have continued to do so if Spikes voice had not interrupted them. 

"You know, love" he gave a small snort of laughter as he moved his body close to hers and looked
deep into her eyes. "We are really going to have to stop meeting like this…people will start to talk!"
He reached up and gently pushed her hair back from her face, letting his thumb trace her cheekbone. 

Snapping out of her panic induced stupor, Willow jerked back from his touch. Stepping away from
him, she completely forgot about his hold on her wrist. <Ow, bad ow.> Willow looked up into
Spikes face. He was no longer grinning, in fact his face showed no emotion at all as his eyes took on
a cold and steely stare. For all purposes he appeared to be studying Willow intently, trying to work
out the next move in this little game. Once again Spike stepped in close to her side. 

"Why don’t you scream?" he rumbled slowly into her ear. Willow wasn’t sure if it was a 
suggestion or a question. She darted her eyes up to glance at him, but seeing his face devoid of
emotion she returned to looking straight ahead. "Go on – scream!" 

Spike accentuated his words with an almost crushing pressure on Willows wrist. The pain from her
wrist and the increasing certainty of her impending death enticed an ear splitting, glass shattering
scream of desperation to leave Willow. As the scream died on her lips, Willow became aware of
Spikes low laughter. 

"Slayer," he called out in a singsong voice, while leading Willow deeper into the shadows of her
backyard. "I’ve got one of your friends to play with…Oh that’s right, she and the big poof are on the
other side of town. Your neighbors don’t seem too concerned, so I guess that leaves you all to me!" 

Spike stopped his movements and swung to face Willow, a huge grin breaking through the previous
mask of stoicism. 

"What do you want?" Willow hesitantly whispered. <He’s going to kill me and I ask what he wants!>

"Mmm. Well," Spike grabbed her free hand and released his grip on her other wrist to slide his hand
around to the small of her back. "I want to waltz." 

"Waltz?" Willow stared into his piercing blue eyes trying to gain some insight. <Waltz, then death?> 

"Waltz." He stated, gaining amusement from the sheer fear he could see in her eyes, feel it causing her
body to tremble. Suddenly something else creeped into Willows expression, he could see her brow
furrow with anger. 

"I’m not going to waltz with you…you’re a blood sucking fiend." Willow tried to step back only to
be stopped by the pressure of his hand on her back. <Great, call him names, get him angry!> Spike
didn’t look angry, if anything he looked amused. 

"’Blood sucking fiend’ what sort of label is that? I prefer…" he seemed lost in thought for a moment,
trying to come up with something more appropriate. "Homicidal maniac. Much more manly." 

With that Spike grinned down at Willow, stepping back he pulled her forward. The movement
caused Willow to almost stumble, putting out her free hand to grasp Spikes shoulder to steady
herself. 

"And now we have assumed the position." Spike lowered his head and voice slightly. "Shall we
waltz?" 

"I can’t!" Willow said, as Spike arched an eyebrow in question. "I don’t have shoes on, we have no
music and, and, well…I don’t know how to." 

The last part of her argument was little more than a whisper. 

"You don’t need shoes, I won’t step on you. Music is irrelevant. Follow my lead and you will be
waltzing in no time at all…trust me." He snickered the last part again pulling her forward while
stepping back. 

"Trust you?! You’re a blood suck…er…you’re a self-confessed homicidal maniac. No offence
meant, but they are not the most sincerest of …" Willow lost herself for a moment, she was going to
say ‘people’ but Spike wasn’t. She searched desperately for a suitable phrase only to be cut off by
Spike. 

"There you go again sticking labels all over the place. If he’s a homicidal maniac he must be
untrustworthy." Again he stepped out, urging Willow to follow his lead. "I mean, just because an
individual enjoys a good blood letting now and then doesn’t mean he can’t be trusted…Although,
you are right, I can’t be trusted. Just a flaw in my personality I guess. You know it hurts, really it
does." 

Sarcasm was dripping from his voice as he stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. All the time Willow had
been listening to him, she hadn’t even realized that he was manipulating their bodies around her back
yard in the perfect waltz. The cool breeze caused by the momentum of the waltz caught her attention
and she broke her gaze with Spikes to look down at the ground. 

"Oh, oh my!" Willow gasped as she tried to follow him and suddenly stumbled in his arms. 

"Close your eyes love and just feel, don’t even think about what you’re doing." Spike murmured as
he continued to twirl Willow around. 

<Close your eyes. Yeah, sure. Then I won’t be able to see when you go in for the kill! Maybe that
isn’t such a bad idea…> Her thoughts were again interrupted by Spike repeating his request. She
looked up into his eyes. Frowning, she considered her position, agreeing with her previous thought
that she really didn’t want to see him go in for the kill, and with a resigned sigh closed her eyes. 

<I’m floating.> It was the only way Willow could describe the sensations she was feeling. Spike, by
means of the light pressure on the small of her back and his guiding hand wrapped in hers, was
spiraling her into a world of sensational pleasure. She reasoned they must have been moving with
some force, her hair was swinging and she could feel the air as they twirled round and round. She
could sense the strength Spike possessed in his body as he maneuvered their bodies twisting and
twirling about the yard. She could feel the coolness of his skin under her hands, feel his muscles flex 
as he moved. 

Willow sighed. <I feel like Scarlett O’Hara dancing with Rhett Butler.> She smiled to herself at this
thought, but it slipped from her as soon as it surfaced. <Only I’m not Scarlett and my potential Rhett
is going to drain my blood at any moment now…but I still feel like I’m floating.> 

Willow felt lost. She was only just aware of the grass beneath her bare feet, the coolness of the night
air, the potential danger of her situation. And at this point in time, she didn’t care. Her only concern
was the power she felt as she was held in Spikes cool strong arms, as he maneuvered her around the
yard. A yard, which in her minds eye, was nothing less than an old-world ballroom somewhere in
Vienna. She could almost hear the string quartet playing an accompaniment to their dance. She didn’t
want to stop, to stop would be nothing less than death. 

Willow felt Spikes cool hand in the small of her back pull her closer to him. She could feel him slow
their movements, until they were moving in a gentle rocking motion. Willow was instantly aware that
their bodies were touching. Spike was firmly pressed against Willow, his hand urging them even
closer, without even opening her eyes she was intensely aware of his head being lowered to her neck.
She felt moist cool lips pressed against the base of her neck as their movements came to a complete
halt. 
  
  

Part Four 

"You smell like raspberries, love." Spikes voice vibrated through his lips on her neck. Willows knees
went weak and she felt herself falling. With a thump she landed on her bum in the middle of the yard,
her eyes shot open to carefully scan the surrounding night. There was no sign of Spike, no evidence
that he had even been there, and nothing to suggest that he had been waltzing Willow around her
backyard. 

Willow pushed herself off the ground, brushed down her clothes and, wincing at the pain in her
buttocks, turned to go back to her room. Running her fingers along her neck she could feel no bite
marks, no leaking blood, nothing. <He didn’t kill me! He waltzed me! Does that make sense? Can a
person be waltzed?> She felt confusion and relief sweep though her body which suddenly felt heavy
and weary. Craving the sanctuary of her room she made a mad dash, forcing her languid body to
respond to her needs. Apprehension surrounded her as she made sure the French windows were
firmly locked and sought the soft comfort of her bed. <I should tell Buffy. But nothing happened. He 
didn’t hurt me. Maybe it didn’t even happen.> Her mind wandered as she drifted toward an
undisturbed sleep. 

<The phone is ringing.> The thought ran through Willows sleep fogged mind. <Answer it! I would
have to get out of bed. It’s just too hard…Could be important though.> With that final thought she
dragged her hand out from under the covers to reach out a grab the phone. 

"Hello?" The bedding she was hidden under muffled her voice. 

"Wills! You want to go shopping? I really need some new clothes." A distant voice echoed through
Willows mind. 

"Buffy?" she mumbled in question. What was Buffy doing ringing so early on a Saturday. "Why are
you ringing me so early?" 

"Early?" Buffy laughed on the other end of the line. "It’s three o’clock in the afternoon Willow! Are
you still in bed? You must have been tired!" 

"Ha, ha." Willow glanced at the bedside clock, thinking Buffy was just teasing. No, she wasn’t. The
clock read 3.03 pm to be exact. "Oh God, it’s three o’clock!" 

"Now you’re stating the obvious Will! So do we shop?" Buffy waited for an answer. 

"Yes…yes. We shop." Willow couldn’t believe she’d slept so long! "I have to shower and change,
though. I shouldn’t be long." 

"Okay, well I’ll head on over to your place. Do you think Xander would want to come? He has
access to a car – could be handy." Buffy asked. 

"Sure, ask him. Who knows." Willow knew if Buffy asked him, he’d be there in a flash. "I’ll see you
in a while then." 

"Done deed!" Buffy replied and rang off. 

<God, it’s three o’clock.> Willow pulled herself up, suddenly hissing as a sharp pain stabbed through
her wrist. She bought her wrist up to inspect, and was shocked to see a large bruise encircling it, a
thumb and finger marks clearly visible. <Spike!> Willow blushed as the evenings events came back
to her. Absently she began to stroke the marks as the memory of his firm cool grasp flooded her
mind. Then there was the waltzing. She closed her eyes trying to recapture the feeling she had
experienced. Her eyes flew open. <God, I should tell Buffy!> Somehow, that didn’t seem right. <I’ll
wait and see what happens.> With that thought she reluctantly pulled herself from the bed and got
ready for the onslaught of the great shopping experience. 

*** 

"Will, this would be just perfect for you!" Buffy exclaimed as she held up a pascal pink fluffy jumper.
Willow looked at it, cocking her head. She had already bought five items, all after Buffy had picked
them and said the same catch cry. 

"I think I’ve already spent enough today Buffy. I’ll pass." Willow smiled at her friend. The one item
she had picked off the rack to admire and consider for herself, a midnight blue slip dress, was
instantly snapped up by Buffy, exclaiming that it simply wasn’t Willow’s style. Willow had reluctantly
agreed and watched quietly as Buffy stated that it did, however, suit herself to a tee! 

"Well, what do you think about this – for me?" asked Buffy, picking up a lavender top. 

"Yeah, it’s real nice Buffy." Willow looked at the top, she refrained from commenting that the color
didn’t suit. She glanced down at her watch. It was six o’clock already. "Buffy, weren’t you meant to
meet Giles at six?" 

"Yep, training. What a way to spend Saturday night!" Buffy rolled her eyes. 

"Better than being bag boy." muttered Xander under his breath. Watching Buffy trying on clothes,
although in theory sounded good, in practice it meant hours of standing around holding things,
fetching things and running for drinks, chocolate and anything else that caught her fancy. 

"Well, you are going to be fifteen minutes late." Willow stated. 

"What?" Buffy turned around to look at Willow. 

"It’s six now." 

Buffy’s eyes widened and she grabbed Willows wrist to check the time. 

"Come on, guys. I have to go. You know how cranky Giles gets when I’m late!" Buffy hurried the
other two out, all thoughts of the top forgotten. 

In reality Giles had long ago realized Buffy was always going to be late and had adjusted his thoughts
accordingly. He now always told her to meet him half an hour earlier than the intended time. It was
saving him gaining an ulcer. 

"Giles, I’m so sorry. We were held up at the mall." Buffy gushed as she walked into the library. 

"Yes, I’m sure that the entire vampire population of Sunnydale decided that the sales were an
opportunity too good to pass up." Giles looked up from the book he was reading. "But you’re here
now and we have work to do." 

Before Buffy could even open her mouth to suggest a reason why they should just forget formal
training and let her do a cardiovascular workout on the dance floor of the Bronze instead, the library
doors flew open and Angel walked in. 

"We’ve got a problem." Angel said, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. "Spikes back!" 

Part 5 

<Good, now I don’t have to say anything.> Willow thought studying Angel. 
He seemed upset. <Or should I say something, really it’s too late now. There 
will be too many questions. Why didn’t you tell us last night? Why 
didn’t you say something? Nothing happened that would be of any 
importance. So basically it’s not necessary for me to say a thing. I’ll 
remain quiet. Spike’s back, act shocked.> 

"Are you sure?" Willow asked, a frown wrinkling her forehead. Angel glanced at her 
before turning back to Giles and Buffy. 

"Damn sure. I interrupted his evening meal. Lets just say he was none to please." 
Angel grimaced, stroking his jaw where Spike had landed a heavy punch during their 
little altercation. 

"Well, this is something. Why would Spike come back to Sunnydale?" Giles asked. 

"Last time he wanted a love spell for Drusilla." Angel paused and looked at Willow. 
"Could be that his plan didn’t work and he’s returning to the previous 
idea of a spell." 

"Oh, yes. I see." Giles removed his glasses and sucked thoughtfully on the arm. "If 
that’s the case he might be focusing on Willow, but then again, surely 
he would have found it easier to go to a more experienced Wicca or source. No 
offence, Willow. I just mean someone closer to where he was. Less time consuming 
than coming all the way back here. Makes far more sense if it were a love spell he 
was after." 

<Don’t ask me if I’ve seen him, please! Maybe I should tell. I mean, 
would it help?> Willow could feel the room start to become tiny, feel the walls 
collapsing in on her. 

"Hey Will, don’t worry we won’t let him get near you." Buffy 
interpreted her friend’s expression for fear and not a reflection of the inner 
turmoil that was actually going on. 

"Well, we can’t really form any plan of action until we know why he’s 
here. There’s nothing going on that you know of Angel? No particular 
vampire activity?" Giles queried. 

"Giles, if you haven’t noticed, this is the Hellmouth. You know, freaky 
vampire episodes, regular occurrence!" Xander stated the obvious, earning a 
deadly glare from the Watcher. 

"I was referring to mass gatherings, perhaps some important event that would 
require Spikes presence." Continued Giles, not taking his withering scowl from 
Xander. 

"Nothing." Angel replied. "In fact it’s been pretty quiet, relatively speaking." 

"There is one way we could find out why he’s here." Buffy announced. 
Everyone turned to look at her. "Ask him." 

"Oh, great idea! I’m sure he would be happy to tell us exactly what big evil 
thing he has planned!" spat Xander, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the 
air. 

"Yes, well. Xander seems once again seems to have mastered the understatement. I 
don’t think Spike would be that forthcoming with information." Giles rubbed 
his temple, trying to put off the inevitable headache he could feel building up. 

"I don’t know, a bit of friendly slayer coercion might loosen his tongue." Buffy 
grinned. 

"I think Buffy’s right. But-" Angel cut off Buffy’s I-know-all 
attitude induced stance and smile. "It would be better if I went." 

Giles looked at the people gathered around him. Perhaps Angel would be able to get 
something out of the blonde vampire using his tact. Giles thought it unlikely that 
Buffy would have any success in that area, her total distaste for Spike was apparent 
and it would be of no use to them if she staked him on the spot without getting any 
information. Whatever Spike’s reason for returning to Sunnydale, Giles 
wasn’t happy. Spike had a well-earned reputation for being meticulous in his 
planning and having a devious mind, it had only been fluke chances that he 
had previously been foiled in his earlier activities. 

"I agree Angel. Buffy you can stay with us and help research. We will have to check 
for any upcoming events, prophecies, see if we can come up with any likely 
explanation." Giles put his glasses back on and headed off to his faithful books. 
Willow sighed, moving toward the computer and Xander flopped into a chair at the 
table. 

"But," Buffy began to argue. "What about safety in numbers? What if Spike tries to 
hurt you? Surely I should go with you!" 

Angel just shook his head. 

"It’s better you stay here Buffy. I’ll be back soon. I promise." With that 
he stooped to kiss her and headed out the doors. 

"Come along Buffy, these books won’t research themselves." Giles called to 
her. 

                                     *** 

Angel was getting exasperated. Apart from his initial sighting of Spike, he 
hadn’t seen or heard anything of him for the last four hours. Not a good sign. 
He had even tried getting Willie to squeal, but apparently no one, human, vampire or 
demon, even knew of Spike’s return. Which was most unlike Spike, 
he enjoyed making his presence felt. This fact alarmed Angel, what could he possibly 
be planning? He glanced around the park he was walking through. 

"Looking for someone special peaches?" Angel heard the familiar voice call. He 
swung around to face Spike who was casually smoking a cigarette, his free hand 
deeply buried in the pocket of his leather duster. "You know, I really hated having 
you interrupt my meal tonight, made me twice as hungry!" 

Spike flashed a grin as Angel winced at the thought. 

"What are you doing here Spike?" Angel growled. 

"Well, I liked the thought of visiting family!" he replied, stepping on his cigarette butt. 

"Family? I thought Drusilla was the only family you were interested 
in. Speaking of which, where is our little insane princess?" Angel hit a sore spot and 
before he could even react Spike had him pinned against a tree, forearm nearly 
crushing his throat. 

"I know exactly where Drusilla is. But what about you, peaches? Do you know where 
everything that you hold precious is?" Spike practically hissed. As quickly as he had 
pinned Angel down he let him go. Stepping back and giving a small chortle of 
laughter. 

"Is that meant to be some sort of threat Spike?" Angel glared at Spike through 
narrowed eyes, trying to find some sort of meaning to Spikes question. 

"You know me, peaches. Never a great one for threats, more for action." He began to 
step back into the darkness of the night. "Better hold on tight, peaches. It’s 
going to get rough!" 

Angel heard Spike give two barks, like that of a dog, and then a loud peal of laughter 
as he disappeared out of view. 

"Shit!" Angel muttered between his clenched teeth and headed back to the library. 

Part 6 

<Okay, Giles has found a new hiding place for his 'don't let Willow see these' books. Mmmm,
Watchers diaries. Not the books I want, but 
they'll do for now.> Willow searched through the various volumes Giles had 
hidden in his office. Oz and the band had returned from their 3-day gig late on 
Sunday evening and tonight was the first of Oz's cycle. He was firmly secured 
in the book cage with Willow keeping watch. Angel and Buffy were out patrolling 
together. Angel had hardly let Buffy out of his sight since his fruitless encounter with 
Spike some two nights earlier. Once Buffy had finished patrol and gone home, 
unbeknown to her, Angel would stay and watch her house until the promise of dawn 
drew him away. Giles had also gone home, after a myriad of reassurances from 
Willow that she would be perfectly fine watching Oz by herself. Willow had used the 
well founded argument that she had done it before, would do it again and there was 
no point in keeping Giles from getting some much needed rest after pointless hours 
of research which had ceded no explanation for Spikes presence. Xander was, as 
usual, happily tucked up in his own bed sound asleep. 

So, here was Willow, ten o'clock on a Tuesday night, rifling through Giles 
office trying to find something of interest to read while she kept an eye on her 
werewolf boyfriend in a deserted library, in an equally deserted school. 

<Oh, boring, boring. That one looks interesting. Oh yuck! 
that's disgusting!> Her thoughts on the volumes were interrupted by Oz 
howling and snarling from the book cage. 

"Oz," Willow sung out to the werewolf. She had discovered that little things often set 
him off and he was soothed when she used a melodic singsong voice. "It's 
okay, there's nothing there." 

Willow picked up a volume and began to flip through it as she turned to leave Giles 
office. A sudden eruption of snarling, growling and the loud crash of Oz throwing his 
body against the book cage caused Willow to drop the book and dash out toward the 
main area of the library. 

"Oz?" she questioned as the book cage came into view. Standing side on in front of 
the raging werewolf was Spike, tranquilizer gun in hand. Willow watched in horror as 
he grinned at her and raised the gun toward Oz. "NO!!" 

The cry left her lips as she stepped toward Spike. She heard the shot and Oz yelp in 
pain as he landed heavily on the floor. Willow tried to grab the gun from Spike, only 
to have him use it as a leverage to push her back, causing her to fall on the floor. 

"Now that isn't a nice way to treat your guest, pet." Spike swaggered over to 
her fallen form, gun still in hand, and squatted to look her in the eye. "Play nice and 
the puppy won't get hurt. If you don't play...well lets 
see, three darts left, enough to put the wolf down if needed." 

Spike let a wicked grin cross his face and wandered back to the cage. 

"You could have his pelt as a rug for your bedroom, you'd be able to 
walk all over him." Spike kicked the cage, looking for any response from the drugged 
werewolf. Willow remained on the floor looking around for a crucifix, holy water or 
even a stake, anything that could help protect herself and Oz from Spike. There was 
nothing, everything was packed neatly away so as not to attract attention, for 
once in her life Willow wished Giles was a slob. She resigned herself to the fact that if 
she wanted Oz to live she would have to do whatever Spike wanted. She felt her 
bottom lip tremble at the thought, tears welled up in her eyes and a lump burned its 
way into her throat. 

"What do you want me to do?" Willow quietly asked, staying as still as possible and 
taking in every detail of the vampire before her. He turned slowly from the cage, his 
duster creaking softly at the movement, his face expressionless. 

"What makes you think I want anything from you?" Spike growled at her. He could 
smell waves of fear rolling off her, could hear her heart beat pound faster and the 
adrenaline scream through her blood. 

"Well, you threaten Oz, stated it depended on me and since there is no one else here 
I assumed." Willow couldn't meet the cold glare anymore, she willed 
herself not to cry. <This is it, he's going to kill me and then he'll kill 
Oz.> The thought that she couldn't prevent Oz's death caused a pain 
to rip through her chest. <I have to do something, I don't want Oz to die.> 
With that thought Willow pushed herself up off the floor, took two steps towards 
Spike and looked him directly in the eye, resolve face firmly in place. "I'll do 
whatever you want but you can't kill Oz!" 

Spike held her gaze, expecting her to back down at any moment, smirk forming on 
his face. To his surprise she didn't break the gaze, even though her bodied 
betrayed the fear she was feeling. 

"Fair enough love. You play nice and I'll let the dog live." Spike 
stepped in close to Willow and growled. "For now." 

He slung the gun casually over one shoulder, grabbed Willows, wrist and 
walked towards the library's stereo system. Flipping it on he fiddled until he 
found a station that was playing music. 

"We have the music," Spike said, turning up the volume and then leading Willow 
back toward the large table. "We have the room and we have two players - both with 
shoes on, and so we dance!" 

He threw the tranquilizer gun onto the table and spun around to face a bewildered 
Willow. 

"You want to dance? With me? Here?" Willow could feel her voice slowly getting 
higher in pitch with each question. She was also painfully aware that her mouth was 
hanging open and her brow a mass of worried wrinkles, but all she could do was 
stare dumbfounded at Spike. 

"You know, love, this repeating and rephrasing of everything I say is starting to get 
boring. And stop bloody frowning, it looks ridiculous!" at his comment Willow 
snapped her mouth shut. "Good. Now, where shall we begin?" Spike asked. The 
question was answered when a slow three-beat song started to play. "Perfect, back to 
basics. A waltz." 

Before Willow could even register what Spike had said she felt his hands on her and 
the sensation that she was floating again. She was aware of Spikes cool fingers 
grasping her hand and in the small of her back as he stepped out and urged her to 
follow his lead. <Wow, I'm waltzing.> Willow felt a shiver of pure excitement 
run through her, a smile forming on her lips and for a moment she forgot who she 
was with. 

"I'm glad to see you remember your lessons, pet." Spike smiled down at her. 
For the first time since they began dancing Willow looked up into his face. The smile 
held no comfort and his eyes held nothing of the smile, and yet those eyes and his 
face was mesmerizing. 

"I never forget anything." Willow stated simply, still holding his gaze. 

"Nothing, pet? Not even painful memories?" he asked quietly, searching her face. 

"No. Everything, no matter how painful or trivial, has some importance and adds to 
our knowledge of life." Willow let the sentence pause, she wasn't sure 
of its relevance to Spike's question, or if he even cared to listen to it. 

"Such wisdom for one so very young," Spike sneered. "And is this wisdom based on 
experience?" 

"Some." Willow answered. 

"What experience have you had pet? Really?" Spike asked. 

"I-I've done lots of things, with Buffy and," she felt flustered, 
unsure of what Spike meant. 

"Yes, the great Buffy. Tell me Willow," he practically purred her name. "Before Buffy 
came to Sunnydale what were you like?" 

Willow searched his face for some meaning, but found none. 

"I don't understand." Willow felt herself blush, she didn't know 
what he was asking her. 

"I bet your mother did your shopping. Picked out your clothes, shoes, toys, and 
books. Decided who you played with, what you did- planned everything for 
you and you just went along with that plan, never knowing any different but what 
she told you. Then along comes Buffy, a wonderful new friend. Someone else to pick 
out your clothes, tell you what to do with your hair, what music to listen to, how to 
act, where you should go. Have you ever experienced anything for yourself? Done 
anything you wanted to?" Spike stopped the dance. He let Willow go, walked to the 
table and sat down. 

Willow didn't move, she couldn't believe what he had just said. It was 
like a slap in the face, because for the most part it was true. 

"I think we should do some good old rock and roll next. What do you think pet?" 
Spike acted like he hadn't made the previous comment. Willow turned to 
glare at him, the anger and frustration building inside of her looking for a release. 

"How dare you!" Willow spat at him. "How can you say such horrible things to me - you don't even
know me! Who are you to sit there and pass 
judgement on me?!" 

"Hit a nerve love?" Spike looked at her with cool disdain as he pulled out a cigarette 
and lit it. "Look at yourself. You can&rsquo;t possibly say you enjoy dressing like 
that, you only do it to please your friends - gain acceptance. Fear, that's 
what it comes down to love. You hide yourself beneath all that crap because your 
scared that if you showed your true colors your friends wouldn't like you and 
you'd be alone - again. I know you act like their bloody lap dog, bowing to 
their every whim - specially that tedious slayer. It's pathetic. Now, what about 
the..." 

Before Spike could even finish his sentence Willow had stormed over to him and hit 
his chest as hard as she could. Spike, surprised by her attack, fell back onto the table 
and let out a deep chuckle. Within a flash he had sat back up and grabbed Willow by 
the wrist and held the wildly writhing girl. 

"Well that's the girl I'd like to see more of!" Spike laughed out loud at 
her fight. "Now, why don&rsquo;t we put some of that fire into a dance?" 

Putting out his cigarette Spike stood up and pulled the still squirming Willow towards 
him. He looked down into her face and saw the raw pain in her eyes. However, any 
regrets that he had gone too far quickly faded as he felt her foot come down on his 
and her teeth sink into his confining hand. Instinctively Spike pushed Willow back, 
making her fall against the low bookcase near the table. Turning Willow started to 
pull the volumes out and throw them at Spike, in her blind fury she wasn&rsquo;t 
even coming close to hitting him. But Spike was finding the whole scene highly 
amusing. 

"Okay, pet. You're going to end up hurting yourself if you keep going like 
that." He laughed at her as he ducked to miss being hit by a flying encyclopedia. She 
was beginning to focus her anger toward him and the volumes were getting closer to 
their mark, making Spike back away to avoid being hit. Willow saw her chance and 
lunged for the tranquilizer gun on the table, but was too late as Spike grabbed it and 
caught Willow by the hair, tilting her face back to look him directly in the eye. "Now 
don't tell me I'm going to have to put the dog down?" 

"No-no don't do that, please." Willow suddenly remembered his earlier 
threat. She could feel tears burning in her eyes. Spike released his hold on her hair 
and gently pushed it off her pale face. 

"Fine. Let's jive then." He put the gun back down and watched her carefully. 
She was a bundle of trouble once you stirred her. 

"I can't." Willow said simply, crossing her arms on her chest. 

"What do you mean, love?" Willow rolled her eyes at his question and sighed. 

"I don't know how to." 

"What do you they teach you in school? Honestly the education system these days!" 
Spike threw his hands up in a mocking gesture. "Well pet, it looks like it's 
going to be a long night!" 

Spike took off his long leather duster and put it down on the table, moving back 
towards Willow he grabbed her and spun her around the room in the same style of 
the waltz they had previously been doing. 

"You know how to waltz, so we will go from there. Just follow me." Spike looked 
down at Willow holding her gaze as a lazy smile formed on his lips. 

For the next five and a half hours Spike coaxed Willow into becoming a very 
proficient jive dancer, executing spins and turns, manipulating their bodies to move 
together. After the first half hour Willow had actually begun to relax and enjoy 
herself. No matter what music was playing on the radio Spike managed to modify 
their movements, whether it be in the speed or intensity of the dance, to suit. Willow 
had never felt so exhilarated in her life, her body felt so light and it seemed to tingle 
all over. She had even laughed when Spike had told her she was glowing. 

<How can something that is so wrong make me feel so good? I shouldn't be 
enjoying this! I should be cowering away, cringing at the thought of Spike touching 
me and yet it feels so wonderful.> Willow was reflecting on her new found conflict 
when Spike suddenly stopped. 

"Well, pet, do you think you&rsquo;ve had enough?" he arched an eyebrow in 
question. Letting her go he walked back to the table and put the duster back on, 
found his cigarettes and lit one. Before Willow had a chance to answer a long painful 
howl came from the inert form of Oz. Turning her back on Spike she walked over to 
the cage crouching down to look at the werewolf. 

"The tranquilizer must be wearing off." Willow spoke quietly, she knew from 
experience that until the drugs wore off completely Oz would continue his howling 
spasmodically. It would probably infuriate Spike to no end. Willow hesitated for a 
moment, deciding she had better tell Spike of Oz's penchant for howling for 
the next few hours and she turned around. Spike was nowhere to be seen. The table 
was empty, except for the discarded gun, there was no sign of him - not even 
a cigarette butt!! "Spike?" 

It was barely a whisper. Willow decided it would be safe to presume that he had left, 
glancing down at her watch she was horrified to see that the sun would be up within 
the hour. <I was not dancing with Spike for that long ... was I? Oh God, I was.> 
She glanced around the library once more and decided that she had better tidy up 
before Giles came in. <I'd better put his Watchers diaries away first.> She 
thought and headed toward his office, pausing to switch off the stereo. Putting the 
diaries away, she grabbed a crucifix and small vile of holy water from Giles desk 
drawer. <Okay, just in case. Now, all I have to do is put those stupid encyclopedias 
back and I'll be fine!> 

As Willow walked back out she glanced up at the windows, noting that the sky was 
slowly getting lighter. She sat down at the table, looking at the collection of scattered 
encyclopedias, her body betrayed her and began to tremble in rebellion against the 
long hours of dancing. <I'll just rest my eyes for a little while, then I'll 
put the encyclopedias back.> With that thought Willow let her head fall 
forward onto her arms and slept. 

Part 7 

The first thing Giles saw as he walked through the library doors was Willow slumped 
on the table. 

"Dear Lord, Willow!" he dashed over touching her shoulder. Later Giles reflected this 
was his undoing. 

"AAAAAHHHHH!!!!" the scream ripped from Willows lips as she jumped up, sending 
her chair flying, and swinging both fists at her would be attacker. The crucifix, still 
tightly clutched in her hand, caught Giles on the cheek with enough force to send 
him sprawling to the ground. The commotion woke a still naked Oz from his slumber 
and caused him to start yelling for Willow. 

Willow screamed again, crucifix still outstretched in a trembling grasp. Giles, caught 
off guard by both Willow and Oz shrieking, screamed back. Oz looked down at his 
own nakedness, turned bright red, uttered "clothes" and proceeded to get dressed. 

"Will you stop screaming?" said Giles dubiously feeling his cheekbone and raising 
himself off the floor. 

"Only when you do." Snapped Willow, looking around the library. 

"I have." Snipped Giles, thinking he would need ice for his cheek. 

"Well....okay then." Willow put down the cross and calmly walked to the book 
cage and let Oz out. 

Giles took in the scene of the library, the mass of fallen encyclopedias, and the 
dented panel of the book cage. Quietly picking up the tranquilizer gun Giles checked 
the barrel. He turned around to look at Willow, tired but happily hugging Oz. 

"Willow, what happened here last night?" Giles asked. 

<Tell the truth. You have to tell Giles that Spike was here last night, threatened you 
and Oz and then forced you to spend the night&hellip;dancing. That 
sounds&hellip;weird> Willow couldn&rsquo;t think of any other way to describe the 
situation she was in. It was weird! <He&rsquo;s waiting, tell him.> 

"Frogs&hellip;" said Willow, she could feel a headache beginning to throb behind her 
eyes. 

"What?" both Giles and Oz asked her at once. 

"Well&hellip;I saw a&hellip;frog." She could see Giles give her one of his patented 
&lsquo;go on&rsquo; looks, and felt Oz squeeze her hand in comfort. "or rather, 
thought I did. Nighttime, dark and all, hard to tell. Yes, well. It attacked me! Came 
right at me the slimy little sucker. So I had no choice but to defend myself." 

"Defend yourself?" queried Giles. Willow had been looking at Oz, not quite sure she 
could lie directly to Giles face. She glanced at Giles and motioned toward the 
encyclopedias wildly with her free hand. 

"They were the first things that I could lay my hands on! So I threw them&hellip;at 
the frog&hellip;which may, or may not have been there&hellip;but which definitely 
attacked me!" Willow was nodding her head at Giles in affirmation of her ramblings. 
Giles still watched her. 

"So under those books we will find a dead frog?" Giles sighed at her 

"Well, I guess &ndash; if I got it, that is&hellip;" Willow looked at the pile of books. 
<He bought it. Why wouldn&rsquo;t he, it&rsquo;s not that far fetched.> She 
hadn&rsquo;t noticed Giles pick up the tranquilizer gun. 

"And you then shot this attacking amphibian with a tranquilizer?" Giles looked from 
the gun to Willow, and waited. 

"No, of course not." She laughed lightly at Giles, then she realized he was waiting for 
an explanation. <Tell him the truth now.> "When the frog attacked me&hellip;Oz got 
upset&hellip;and&hellip;and, well I thought he was going to get out 
so&hellip;I&hellip;shot him." 

The last part was barely a whisper and Willow was grateful that Oz chose that 
moment to give her a cuddle and whisper words of endearment. 

"So, briefly, in summary," Giles took off his glasses and started to clean them. "You 
were defending yourself against a frog, which may or may not have been real, with 
encyclopedias, Oz became upset and you were forced to tranquilize him?" 

Giles put his glasses back on and looked at Willow. 

"Yes." Willow mumbled her response from the comfort of Oz&rsquo;s shoulder. 

"Well," Giles glanced around the library, everything else seemed to be in order. 
"Stranger things have happened. This is the Hellmouth after all. You two had better 
go home and get ready for your classes." 

With that Giles walked into his office, and Oz urged Willow to head out. 

                                     *** 

"Wow, attack of the killer frog &ndash; that would make an interesting movie title," 
Buffy had listened to the &lsquo;accepted&rsquo; story of the nights events as she 
walked to the library with Willow, Oz and Xander after school. 

Willow didn&rsquo;t even bother to listen to the incoherent babblings of her friends. 
All day she had been fighting fatigue, a throbbing headache and an alarming notion 
that Spikes speculation about her life was true. <But,> she reasoned to herself. 
<I&rsquo;m an integral part of the group. I&rsquo;m the hacker and they need me. 
Alright, so I don&rsquo;t get to make important decisions, or go out and save the 
world from descending into hell. But I&rsquo;m there and I help!> Pleased with this 
affirmation of her life, she turned to reflect on her relationships with her friends. 

Oz, the love of her life, although not the most communicative of people lately. With 
the growing success of his band he seemed to spend more time out on the road, 
playing gigs. Generally Willow was unaware that the band was playing out of town 
until Oz came back, always with the reassurance of "I&rsquo;m sorry babe. I thought 
I&rsquo;d told you." Since the consummation of their relationship some weeks 
previously, Oz had been very attentive physically, however of the time they were 
together, very little was spent talking. 

Xander, since the previous time Spike was in Sunnydale and they were caught in a 
compromising position in the warehouse together, and she through necessity had 
grown apart. He was happy to focus his interest elsewhere. Although still close 
friends they weren&rsquo;t as intimate as they had been. Xander would spend hours 
talking to Willow about his life, his dreams and his problems, but Willow could not 
recall the last time she had actually spoken to him about herself. She hadn&rsquo;t 
even told him that she&rsquo;d slept with Oz. 

Then there was Buffy. Most of her time was spent slaying, despairing that she would 
have no life apart from slaying, lamenting the fact she was behind in her studies and 
mooning over her relationship with Angel. Willow reasoned that with all of her 
responsibilities, Buffy was just in her need to vent. However when it came to 
reciprocating those hours she spent listening to Buffy vent, she came up empty 
handed. 

Spike was right, she had allowed herself to become the doormat for her friends, 
listening to their problems, helping them when needed and doing everything they 
wanted. Never what she wanted to do. Sighing Willow sat down on a chair at the 
library table and rubbed at her temples. 

"Willow?" she heard Giles ask through the fog of her headache. 

"What?" for the first time she looked up at him, concern was evident on his face. 

"I said do you want me to stay with you and Oz tonight?" 

"No, no we&rsquo;ll be fine." All she wanted to do was scream for everyone to go 
away so she could work through her thoughts. Oz leant down and kissed her softly 
on the forehead. 

"I&rsquo;ll see you in the morning babe." With that he headed off into the cage. 

"Well, I have some research to do so I&rsquo;ll be here for a little while anyway," 
Giles turned to glance at Buffy. "Where are you planning to patrol tonight?" 

"Oh, Angel and I thought we&rsquo;d just do a tour of the 
cemeteries&hellip;nothing special and get an early night." Buffy shrugged. "Angel 
said he&rsquo;d meet me here then go out." 

"Good, you can help Willow and I with this research." Giles turned to the table only 
to see Willow in the same position he had found her in that morning. "Oh dear, looks 
like it will just be you and I Buffy." 

Carefully Giles picked up the sleeping girl and carried her to the couch in his office, 
covering her with a light blanket. 

                                     *** 

"Willow," she was vaguely aware of feeling warm, hearing her name and something 
cool brushing against her cheek. "Willow&hellip;Willow&hellip;" 

Cool fingers brushed against her sleep warmed cheek and ran through her hair. 
<Mmm, that is so nice. So cool&hellip;cool fingers. Oz&rsquo;s are warm. Those 
aren&rsquo;t Oz&rsquo;s fingers.> Willow forced her eyes open to see Angel sitting 
on the couch next to her. He pulled his hand away from her face and got up. 

"Angel?" Willow asked, still disorientated from her sleep. She sat up taking in her 
surroundings and realizing that she was in Giles office. "Oh God I fell asleep! What 
time is it? Is Oz okay? What are you doing here?" 

Pushing the blanket off her legs she stood up, ran her fingers through her hair and 
straightened her clothes. 

"Sorry to wake you, but Buffy wants to head off&hellip;I just wanted to know if 
you&rsquo;d be okay until I come back after patrol." Angel watched her 
self-conscious movements. Giles, before leaving had suggested that either Angel or 
Buffy stay with Willow, after the frog incident of the previous night. Angel had 
agreed and said that after he saw Buffy home he would return to the Library. Buffy 
herself was tired and saw no reason to argue. 

"Oh, Angel. That&rsquo;s really nice of you to offer, but you know I&rsquo;ll be 
fine. Honestly." Willow glanced at her watch seeing it was nearly midnight. The 
logical part of Willow&rsquo;s mind began to kick in screaming for her accept 
Angel&rsquo;s offer. However in the dark recesses of her mind she honestly thought 
that Spike coming to her last night had been a freak incident, which she put down to 
vampire boredom being relieved by terrifying her, and that he wouldn&rsquo;t be 
bothering her again. <In fact that was probably his plan, get me scared so Angel 
would stay with me tonight and leave Buffy defenseless. Alright so Buffy 
wouldn&rsquo;t ever be defenseless but Angel is extra protection!> With that 
thought Willow was determined that she was perfectly safe from the blonde Brit. 

"I don&rsquo;t know Willow. I kind of promised Giles." Angel followed her out of the 
office. 

"Angel, it&rsquo;s okay. I&rsquo;ll be fine. As for Giles, don&rsquo;t worry." Willow 
was interrupted by Buffy coming back from the bathroom. 

"Why would Angel be worried about Giles?" she asked. 

"Angel wants to come back here after patrol &ndash; but I don&rsquo;t need him 
too." Willow explained to Buffy and turned back to Angel. "In fact, it seems to upset 
Oz more when there are others here apart from me, so really it would just make 
things difficult. Angel&hellip;you know what I mean, don&rsquo;t you?" 

Angel looked down at Willow. What she said was true, Oz had been pretty riotous all 
night and Willow did seem to have the most calming affect on him. Perhaps it would 
just be adding to both Willow and Oz&rsquo;s stress if Angel stayed, also it would 
mean leaving Buffy unguarded against Spike for the night. But still, he had promised 
Giles. Before he could say anything to Willow Buffy grabbed his arm. 

"You know, she is right. Oz does get kinda wigged out when he&rsquo;s in wolf 
mode. Maybe it would be best if they were left alone. I only think Giles asked 
&lsquo;cause he got freaked out this morning." Buffy swung his arm lightly, smiling 
sweetly up at him. Angel looked from girl to girl, both faces plastered with 
&lsquo;it&rsquo;ll be okay&rsquo; smiles. Angel let out an unnecessary sigh and 
rolled his eyes. 

"I guess there is no point in arguing against the two of you. Willow, are you sure 
you&rsquo;ll be okay?" he asked, reluctantly knowing he was going to leave her 
alone. 

"Yes, fine. Now go!" she pointed towards the doors with an outstretched arm. 

"See ya tomorrow Will." Buffy said before dragging a reluctant Angel from the 
library. 

Willow listened to their fading footsteps and Angels protests of "But I promised 
Giles". She walked over to the cage to gaze at Oz. It always amazed her how 
different he was in wolf mode, as Buffy called it. So different and yet eerily similar to 
what he was. The eyes were the most terrifying of all, so animalistic, so wild, nothing 
of the calm and reflective eyes she was use to. Willow had been studying him for five 
minutes as he crouched quietly on the floor when without warning he rolled his lips 
back, snarling at her through a farcical grin, and launched himself at the door of the 
restraining cage. The action so shocked Willow she stumbled back - straight into a 
cool, hard body. 

"Hello pet." Spike whispered into her ear. She felt his growl, rather than heard it, as 
it made it&rsquo;s way up his chest. The sound of the growl caused Oz to become 
even more frantic in his fight. 

"Stop it!" Willow turned to face Spike. "You&rsquo;re upsetting him!" 

"Oh, I&rsquo;ll upset him pet." Spike moved toward the cage, roughly kicking the 
door causing the hysterical werewolf to throw himself harder against it. Spike swung 
around to face Willow. "You know if he keeps doing that he could get out &ndash; 
we wouldn&rsquo;t want that now." 

He smirked at Willow and gave the cage another forceful kick. Casually he walked 
over to the tranquilizer gun, raised it and fired. For the second night, Oz&rsquo;s 
inert form fell to the floor of the cage. 

<Oh no, not again.> Willow bought her hands up to cover her face. She felt 
Spike&rsquo;s cool fingers run up the length of her forearms and his fingers entwine 
with hers as he gently pried them away from her face. Lifting her head she saw him 
looking at her, a bemused expression on his face, one side of his mouth twisted into 
half a smirk. 

"Come on, pet? No fight tonight? Well, maybe that&rsquo;s just as well, I&rsquo;m 
not in the mood for ducking bloody books." He led her on the same route as the 
previous night, to the stereo and then back to the floor in front of the cage. "Now, 
lets see how well you remember your lessons pet." 

Dancing. It seemed so different tonight. Familiar. Maybe that was it. Willow was 
profoundly aware of the feel of Spikes fingers. Slowly caressing the lengths of her 
arms as he passed her out to spin, the feel of his index finger running down her 
backbone as he pulled her back into his embrace. The palm of his hand cupping the 
small of her back, the soft cool pressure as he guided her in the dance. She could 
feel the light pressure of his fingers tracing her waist as he spun her, his other 
fingers firmly grasping her hand never breaking the hold. She was aware of his legs 
brushing against hers as they moved around the floor together. A denim clad thigh 
occasionally brushing between hers as they danced. Her hands were tingling and felt 
like they were burning against his cool touch. She could feel her body betraying her 
and leaning into his hands, actively seeking out contact with him, screaming out for 
more, demanding more. It felt too familiar, too sensual and just too right. 

<Bad thoughts. Oh, very bad thoughts.> Willow stumbled as she realized what she 
had been thinking and felt the blood rush making her face flame. 

"Pet?" Spike stopped their movements and raised an eyebrow. 

"What?" Willow frowned, not looking at him and trying to drag her hands from his 
grasp. She glanced up at him, seeing nothing in his eyes. "Can you let me go 
please?" 

Spike grinned down at her and pulled her body flush up against his. He lowered his 
head, his lips barely millimeters from hers. 

"If you really want me to, pet." With that he laughed, pushed her away and 
swaggered toward the table. "I think you&rsquo;re ready for the Tango next." 

"Tango?" whispered Willow, watching as he sat on the table edge and lit a cigarette. 
"Why are you doing this? I mean, what&rsquo;s the point?" 

"What&rsquo;s the point? You see no reason to this &ndash; do you?" Spike 
questioned her. Willow shook her head. "That&rsquo;s because to you there is no 
reason. Call it a distraction." 

"Is there a reason for you?" Willow narrowed her eyes, he was twisting words, being 
illusive in his answers. 

Spike watched her. She was a clever little witch. He&rsquo;d have to be careful. 

"There are always reasons, pet. As I said, it&rsquo;s a distraction." He put out his 
cigarette and sauntered back to her. "Now, Tango" 

Spike grabbed her hands and pulled her into the tango stance, explaining as he did 
the difference in the position. Slowly he began to teach her the steps, pulling her 
forward in the basic movement of the tango. It seemed too easy to Willow, step, step 
and tango. That was it. Where was the thrill? That was until Spike started to spin her 
out, his hands tracing the length of her arm and then pulling her back flush against 
his body. Just as quickly he would step back and they would again do the basic 
steps. Willow began to dread those spins and she would fight against him. Pulling 
back as far as she could, the momentum of her fight would generally throw her off 
balance as she spun back in, causing her to end up entangled in Spikes arms and 
often knocked hard into his chest. It was after the third time she head-butted him 
that Spike stopped the dance. 

"Pet, if you keep doing that you&rsquo;ll break." He growled at her. 

"Well, you&rsquo;re the one that keeps spinning me too hard. I don&rsquo;t 
understand what you want me to do!" Willows tone was frustrated. Spike looked 
around the library and dragged her toward the table. 

"Come on, pet." He pulled her up onto the tabletop. "Now, you can&rsquo;t go any 
further than the edge &ndash; otherwise you&rsquo;ll break your bloody neck." 

Willow looked up at him in horror as she realized he was right. Taking up the stance 
again Spike smiled down at her. Santana&rsquo;s Smooth began to play on the 
radio, causing Spike to laugh. 

"This is just too perfect." He stepped out, urging Willow to follow. 

<Oh God, I&rsquo;m going to fall off!> Willow closed her eyes against the thought 
and listened to the music, blindly following Spikes lead. He kept it basic at first, 
allowing himself to get use to the size of the table. He smiled to himself as he spun 
Willow out. This time there was no fight, no resistance, her fingers entwining tightly 
with his as she held on. She was no where near the edge, but her fear that she could 
be was doing exactly what he wanted - forcing her to submit to him. Spike laughed 
out loud in his sheer delight. It was so very intoxicating. He spun her back into him, 
running his hand down the full length of her back, he could feel her body tremble. 
Fear and excitement &ndash; it was delicious. 

"Open your eye&rsquo;s, pet." Willow did as he said, holding onto his gaze. 

Spike kept them dancing. The spins and turns becoming bolder as Willow complied 
with his every whim. The song was coming to a close. Spike spun her back in. 
Allowing his hand to travel down her back, bottom and thigh Spike grabbed the arch 
of her knee, pulling her leg up to his waist. His whole body pressed into hers, forcing 
her to lean back. Releasing his hold on her leg he pulled her hips flush against his. 
One of his hands found the small of her back, while the other hand slid up along her 
stomach, snaking between her breasts and the fingers encircled her neck with a 
biting pressure forcing her to dip backwards. She felt his body bent over hers, his 
lips pressing between her breast, his fingers still firmly pressed to her neck. 

"Submit to me Willow," Spike purred. He held her there for the briefest of moments 
before pulling her back up and again moving out in the basic tango steps. Suddenly 
he stopped and swung his head toward the doors. 

"Well, pet. As much of a distraction this is, I really have to go." Spike grabbed her 
hair and bent her head back, exposing her neck to lightly kiss it. By the time she had 
registered what Spike had said and done Willow found herself standing alone on the 
library table. 

Willow felt her whole body tremble. She wasn&rsquo;t sure what it was from fear, 
loathing&hellip;excitement? <Calm down, breath.> She forced herself to take a deep 
breath and was about to let it out when the library doors opened and Angel walked 
in. 

Part 8 

Willow looked down at her feet, her eyes watching the movements whilst she 
concentrated on the soft sound. It was Friday afternoon, about an hour until the sun 
would set, and Willow was making her way home through one of the many 
shadowed streets of suburbia. She was lost in a maze of thoughts. Bronzing, that was 
the plan for tonight &ndash; according to Buffy and Xander. Oz had no say, he 
hadn&rsquo;t been in school or at home all day, apparently taking off early for a gig 
in some other town. Willow had shrugged off the suggestion feigning a headache, 
although she knew that in all probability she would end up going. 

<I can be Buffy&rsquo;s bag girl, while she and Xander dance. That is until Angel 
shows up, then I&rsquo;ll get to listen to Xander for the night. Maybe staying home 
would be better.> Willow chastised herself for her contemptuous thoughts. 

<Angel.> Willow giggled at the memory of Wednesday night when he found her 
standing on the library table. Of course he had demanded an explanation. Frogs, that 
had explained her position, it also gave a valid reason for Oz once again being 
sedated &ndash; the evidence of his hysteria had been supplied by the additional 
dents in the book cage. And the music? Willow claimed that she had tried to soothe 
Oz by playing the music and had just let it play on. Angel stayed with her for the rest 
of that night and returned the next evening just as Giles was leaving. Soon after 
Angels arrival on the Thursday night, Oz had become hysterical and for the third 
evening was tranquilized. At the time Willow had wondered if it was the smell of 
vampires in general or whether Spike was somewhere close. The rest of the evening 
was spent with general discussion between Angel and Willow, ranging from 
Oz&rsquo;s behavior as a werewolf, Buffy and school. Angel had later turned the 
discussion to Willow, with her side stepping as many questions as possible. 
Something that didn&rsquo;t go unnoticed by Angel. 

<If I go to the Bronze he might want to talk again&hellip;> Willows thoughts were 
broken by the low hum of a powerful car engine. She looked back over her shoulder 
a strangely familiar black car was at the bottom of the street. <Great. Hoons from 
school. Just what I need &ndash; drive by abuse.> Willow rolled her eyes and turned 
her attention back to her feet and waited. She could see it in her minds eye, the car 
would slowly pass her, abuse would be yelled and the car would speed off amongst 
the sounds of laughter and the squeal of tyres. It didn&rsquo;t happen like that. 

The car did slowly approach her but instead of hearing abuse yelled she heard a soft 
click, saw a door swing open in front of her and a cool arm envelop her waist. With a 
quick tug she found herself sitting on Spikes lap behind the wheel as he slammed the 
door shut and slammed the excelerator down to the floor. 

"You know, pet, you can stay there if you want." He laughed as he pushed her off his 
lap and onto the passengers&rsquo; seat. Willow pushed herself up against the door, 
her hand blindly searching for the handle. "Pet, you really don&rsquo;t want to do 
that." 

"Oh, why? I should just sit calmly in the car while you drive us to&hellip;" Willow 
suddenly realized she didn&rsquo;t have the faintest idea where they were going. 

"LA, pet. We&rsquo;re going dancing." Spike lit up a cigarette. "You won&rsquo;t 
get anywhere doing that. It doesn&rsquo;t open from the inside." 

                                     *** 

The relatively short trip, thanks to Spikes manic driving ability and total disregard for 
the speed limit, was spent with Willow presenting various arguments that Spike 
laughed off. He had assured her that she wouldn&rsquo;t be missed &ndash; until it 
was too late &ndash; and that there was nothing for her to do but sit back and enjoy 
the ride. Once in the city and free of the confines of the car Willow had decided her 
best option was to make a run for it. Not according to Spike who caught her fleeing 
arm, causing her to crash into his chest. 

"Now, now, pet. You don&rsquo;t want to upset me. I could just leave you here at 
the mercy of the city, no money, no ID, no protection&hellip;how long do you think 
you&rsquo;d last?" he sneered down at her, fingers gripping her upper arm. He 
threw his head back and let out a laugh. "I doubt you&rsquo;d even make it to a pay 
phone to call home. First stop&hellip;" he smirked at her. "Clothes." 

Willow found herself being dragged through the double doors of a very nondescript 
building and into an expensive looking store. It was deceptive. From the outside it 
had looked like nothing, but once through those doors a whole new reality was 
presented. A perfect plastic girl greeted them and in a bubbly voice loudly announced 
her name and asked how she could be of service tonight. 

"I&rsquo;d like to speak to Andrew." Spike looked at the shop assistant. 

"May I ask who&rsquo;s calling?" she said in a sugary sweet voice. 

"Tell him it&rsquo;s Spike and a little bundle of joy that needs wrapping." Spike 
released his hold on Willow and buried his hands in the pockets of his duster. 

The girl disappeared into her surrounds and soon a well-dressed man was striding 
towards them. Spike reached out and grabbed his hand in greeting and casually 
throwing an arm across his shoulder turned him to face Willow. 

"Andrew, this is my little bundle. As you can see, she isn&rsquo;t exactly dressed for 
any occasion and I need you to fix that for me." Spike cocked his head, seeing for the 
first time exactly what Willow was wearing. 

"And what occasion does she need to be dressed for?" asked Andrew also looking at 
her current outfit of baggy overalls and fluffy jumper. He almost grimaced at her. 

"Dancing mate." Spike turned away from Willow, glancing around the shop. 
"However, I want her to make the choice you are only to give her&hellip;options." 

Willow wanted the floor to swallow her. She folded her arms across her chest and 
turned to look at the room they were in. It appeared to be a large entrance area, 
various arches led off to different rooms that were filled with a variety of clothes and 
other goods. Anything you wanted seemed to be here. And Spike was quite well 
known to the staff. That was a scary thought since he really only seemed to wear the 
one outfit. 

"&hellip;then take what she is currently wearing and burn the bloody stuff." It was 
the tail end of the conversation and Willow had no idea as to what Spike was talking 
about. "So, how long do you reckon this will take?" 

"How long have you got?" Andrew looked from Willow to Spike. 

"I&rsquo;ll be back in an hour." He turned to Willow. "Pick whatever you want, pet. 
I&rsquo;ll be back soon." 

With that he turned on his heel and walked out the doors, leaving Willow to wonder 
what exactly she was in for. 

"I don&rsquo;t know, what do you think I should get. I mean, I don&rsquo;t even 
know where we&rsquo;re going. I don&rsquo;t even know&hellip;" Willow glanced 
up to see Andrew rubbing his temple. Willow had been looking at and trying on 
clothes for the last forty-five minutes, she still hadn&rsquo;t managed to decide on 
what she wanted. 

"It is entirely up to you. Whatever you want you can have. It&rsquo;s simple 
&ndash; take what you want &ndash; whatever you want!" exasperation was clearly 
evident in his voice. 

"Don&rsquo;t tell me the little witch can&rsquo;t make up her own mind." Willow 
spun around at the sound of Spike&rsquo;s voice. He was leaning against the 
archway watching her. "Come on pet. It isn&rsquo;t that hard &ndash; know what 
you want and take it. You do know what you like, don&rsquo;t you?" 

Willow knew that last part was a challenge. She straightened her shoulders and 
tucked her hair off her face to look directly at Spike. 

"Of course I know what I like." She almost spat at him. He laughed at her, pushed 
himself away from the archway and over to a couch to sit down. 

"Well then, pet. Show me what you like so far&hellip;" he fumbled around to grab a 
cigarette. 

"Well, there are a couple of things I like&hellip;that dress there and," she was cut off 
by Spike. 

"Don&rsquo;t tell me. Show me." There was no mistaking what he wanted her to do. 
Show the clothes to him while she was wearing them. She picked up an outfit and 
went into the change room. 

When she came out Spike and Andrew were fervently discussing something. Willow 
had to cough to get their attention. 

"Bloody hell, pet. I said something you liked not what that prat of a slayer would 
have you wear." Spike growled. Before Willow could even say anything Spike jumped 
up from the couch and grabbed her by the back of the neck dragging her to a mirror, 
holding her, forcing her to look at her own reflection. "Look at yourself, pet. Do you 
really like that? Shapeless, fluffy and angelic? Is that you? Is that what you are?" 

The force of the act had scared Willow. It left no space for her to wonder what Spike 
was, just reinforced the idea that he was a demon. His fingers were biting into her 
neck, forcing her to do what he wanted and he wanted an answer. For the first time 
Willow looked at herself. She had chosen an outfit that represented what her friends 
expected her to be, fluffy, sweet and innocent. 

"Well, pet. I&rsquo;m waiting for an answer." Spike growled into her ear. 

"No." it was barely a whisper. Spike let her go and started to walk back to the couch. 

"Pick something you like. There is no one here who knows you. No one to judge. 
You have a clean slate to reinvent yourself." 

Willow was still staring at her reflection. She was unsure what she wanted, she had 
only vaguely heard what Spike had said. What did she want? She glanced over her 
shoulder to where Spike and Andrew were sitting on the couch deep in conversation, 
ignoring her. She looked around the room at the scattered outfits and her eyes fell 
on a dress &ndash; her first choice of the evening. After trying it on she had decided 
was too daring and would earn Buffy&rsquo;s "Oh that is so not you" comment. She 
walked over and picked it up with a few other outfits that would also fall under the 
same category and went back to the change room. 

It was a simple dress, basic black, form fitting, the skirt falling a few inches above 
the knee with a split on the front right thigh. It was also sleeveless and the front, 
while not overly low cut, was pleasantly tantalizing. Perhaps the most appealing thing 
about the dress was that it&rsquo;s simplicity intensified Willows natural beauty, her 
pale skin, green eyes and fiery red hair. 

Willow walked out and found the couch empty. Moving over to the full-length mirror 
this time she liked what she saw. 

"Much better, pet. Elegant and sexy. Unequivocally Willow." Spike murmured into her 
ear. Willow hadn&rsquo;t even realized he was near her. "Go try on some others." 

"I&rsquo;ll only need the one." Willow bit her lip. This dress was comfortable, made 
her feel comfortable. 

"Amuse me, pet." Spike let his fingers run down her arm before breaking contact. 
"Andrew has gone to get you some&hellip;essentials." 

Willow had no idea what he meant but headed back into the change room. The next 
outfit she chose was a black leather skirt with a split either side teemed with a tight 
long sleeve, forest green, v-neck top. She had no idea why she had picked that outfit 
&ndash; it had simply appealed to her and that was what Spike was urging her to do. 

"Oh, pet. The skirt is just to die for." He almost purred at her. "And the top, well it 
certainly draws attention to your&hellip;eyes." 

Willow looked over to where Spike was sprawled on the couch and rolled her eyes, a 
smile playing across her lips. She headed back into the change room to put on the 
final outfit. It was definitely not what she would generally wear. It consisted of a 
bright cherry red mini skirt, matching slip top and a fitting filmy long sleeve top. 
Walking out of the room she was immediately arrested by Spikes comment. 

"And here she is &ndash; the siren that called all men to their deaths through her 
song of beauty and promises." Spike grabbed her hand and urged her back to the 
mirror. "There, pet. Can you see everything you promise to be?" 

Willow looked at her reflection closely. The red caused her skin to glow, she looked 
almost ethereal. But there was something wrong, something was missing. 

"I don&rsquo;t have any shoes." Willow barely whispered, looking at Spike. Spike 
threw back his head and roared. 

"Shoes! Andrew the bundle needs shoes. What sort of shoes do you want pet?" Spike 
turned her around and pushed her back into the change room that Andrew had just 
walked out of, holding something behind his back. "Go get changed into whatever 
you want to wear for tonight &ndash; Andrew has left some things in there for you 
&ndash; and then we&rsquo;ll get you some bloody shoes!" 

The "things" were underwear. Seven pairs to be exact. All a mixture of lace and silk 
delicately created with a mixture of colors from basic black and white through to two 
sets of rich burgundy. 

<Oh my.> She had never actually owned underwear like that and it seemed to be 
something of a deviant act to even imagine what they would be like and now 
&ndash; well now she would actually wear some! <Oh my.> She chose a black set of 
underwear and the little black dress. She glanced at her reflection one more time, 
giving a small smile of satisfaction, and walked back out to where Andrew and Spike 
were waiting. 

"Nice choice, pet. Now shoes." Andrew led the way through the various archways 
until Willow was surrounded by a selection of shoes that would have had Cordelia 
fainting in ecstasy. Again Spike insisted that she pick for herself and she decided on 
three items, a pair of low strappy black dress shoes, knee high black boots that Buffy 
would seriously say "Oh so not you!" and another pair of strappy dress shoes in red. 
Spike wasn't there to see the final choice, he&rsquo;d left saying he&rsquo;d be back 
in half an hour and that Willow was to pick enough shoes to go with the outfits. The 
shoes were less time consuming than the clothes and Willow found herself wandering 
through the store with Andrew as a companion, waiting for Spike. 

"Wow, you guys have everything here!" Willow looked into an area that was done up 
in an "American West" theme. The sight of a signed "Young Guns" poster mounted 
over a holster and pearl handled guns arrested her eyes. "Those aren&rsquo;t Billy 
the Kid&rsquo;s guns &ndash; are they?" 

Willow found herself closely scrutinizing the guns in their glass case. This was one of 
her dark and dirty secrets &ndash; the idea of Billy the Kid (especially the one 
portrayed by Emilio Estevez) appealed to her. If Xander or Buffy ever found out she 
felt she would never be able to live it down. Andrew laughing distracted her. 

"No, they&rsquo;re replicas." He had laughed because for the first time that night she 
had shown a genuine interest &ndash; and in something he would never have 
guessed. "So you like Billy the Kid?" 

"Uh ha. I mean Emilio Estevez &ndash; wicked. And he just looked so cute in that 
outfit!" she smiled up Andrew. 

"Well, we can put you in that outfit &ndash; see how cute you&rsquo;d look." He 
turned from Willow and started to say something to one of the assistants who 
scurried off. 

"Oh, no, I didn&rsquo;t mean that. Well I couldn&rsquo;t, I mean I&rsquo;m a girl 
and it just wouldn&rsquo;t be right&hellip;" she paused looking at Andrew and 
giggled. "Oh why not?" 

Within five minutes she was dressed in a similar outfit, well fitting brown suede pants 
with a white grandpa shirt. Andrew was fixing on some old fashioned braces and the 
assistant was holding the replicas of the guns and holster as well as a hat. 

"This is so silly." Giggled Willow, in fact she loved it. She flicked out the braces, 
wincing as they snapped back against her. Andrew was tying her hair back and 
putting on the hat. The only thing left was the guns. "If only they could see me now!" 

Andrew nimbly fixed the holster around her hips, letting it hang low, tying the 
fixtures onto her thighs, and slipped the guns into place. Turning Andrew said 
something to the assistant who was sent scurrying away again. Soon the music from 
the second movie could be heard playing, causing Willow to giggle wildly as Andrew 
led her to a full-length mirror. 

"Wow!" it was all she could manage. She looked wicked. At Andrew&rsquo;s urging 
she picked up the guns and tried twirling them around, almost dropping them 
several times before she got the hang of it. She pulled the gun on her own reflection 
and said those infamous words in a lilting voice. "You hoo, I can make you famous!" 

"I bet you could, pet." 

"Spike!" Willow caught her breath for a moment, wondering the implications of this 
scene. He merely stood there looking at her from top to toe and grinned. 

"Go get changed &ndash; we&rsquo;re going dancing." He turned from her to once 
again engage Andrew in conversation. Willow hurried away to change back into her 
black dress. Once she came back out Andrew was no where to be seen but Spike was 
standing there with a black jewelry box in his hand. 

"Here you are, pet." He held out the box to her and Willow glanced inside. There was 
a black choker with an elaborate design of various black gems. 

"Oh Spike, it&rsquo;s beautiful but I&hellip;" she was cut off by Spike picking up the 
necklace and clasping it to her neck. 

"Protection, pet. Have to let people at the club know your not dinner." Spike purred 
to her. 

"Club? You mean we are going to a club with other vampires?" this was not good. 
One vampire she could handle but a whole brood? Spike could feel her tremble, even 
though he stood some distance from her, he&rsquo;d have to do something about 
that otherwise she would be dead by the time she walked through the doors. 

"Come on, pet. Can&rsquo;t keep everyone waiting." Spike grabbed her hand and 
led her toward the doors. 

                                     *** 

The Club was like the store. On the outside there was nothing of any great 
significance, nothing to suggest that there was even a club housed in the building, no 
signs or lights, just a huge black door. Inside it was decadent. The lighting was soft, 
the floors were polished wood and there were tables spread about, all packed to 
maximum. The bar was huge and ran the full length of one wall, mirrored panels 
reflecting the names of the bottle of alcohol that lined the shelves as well as the 
patrons of the bar that carried a reflection. As Willow sat next to Spike she noted that 
there were very few patrons who had a reflection. 

Spike glanced at her. Since entering the club her body temperature and heartbeat 
had increased as well as the trembling. Spike smirked and motioned to the 
bartender. 

"I&rsquo;ll have an ale and the little girl will have a&hellip;" he looked at her 
quizzically. "Slippery Nipple thanks mate." 

"A what?" Willow turned to look him in disgust. "I am not having body parts thank 
you!" 

"Sambucca and Baileys, pet. You&rsquo;ll like it." Spike said as the drinks were laid 
in front of them. Willow looked at her small shot glass compared to Spikes huge 
glass of beer. Hesitatingly she bought the glass up to her nose to smell, wrinkling her 
forehead in thought. "It won&rsquo;t bite you, pet." 

Willow took a final look at the drink before closing her eyes and gulping it down in 
one go. Her eyes watered as the liquid burnt its way down her throat. Opening her 
mouth she let out an extended sigh. She put the glass back down on the bar and 
found another waiting for her. Glancing sideways at Spike she picked up the drink 
and again drank it in one gulp. It was easier this time. 

"It tastes like liquorice." Willow said, blinking away the alcohol induced tears. She 
could feel the fiery liquid working its way into her system - like warm fingers 
massaging from the inside. 

"That&rsquo;s the Sambucca." Spike raised an eyebrow at her. He had expected her 
to sip the first drink, making it last all night. It was probably just as well she had a 
couple of quick shots, it was already affecting her, lowering her heartbeat and 
lessening her anxiety. He called the bar tender back, instructing him to get her 
another shot, this time straight Sambucca. Again she threw it back. 

"That is so nice &ndash; like aniseed. You know Bulls Eyes." Willow smiled at him. 
"Can I have another one?" 

"If you like, pet." She was going to be smashed if she kept this up. Spike smiled to 
himself as he indicated to the bartender for another. Before Willow had a chance to 
bring the glass to her lips Spike gripped her arm. "Just sip this one." 

"Okay." She put the glass back down on the bar. "I thought you wanted to come here 
to dance, not drink." 

"Oh we&rsquo;ll dance, pet. Don&rsquo;t worry about that." He smiled as he sipped 
his beer. 

"Where? I mean it&rsquo;s packed in here &ndash; worst than the Bronze. If you 
really wanted to go dancing we could have done it just as well in Sunnydale. Sure 
not at the Bronze because that would be bad &ndash; don&rsquo;t you think? But 
there are other places we could have gone. LA though, isn&rsquo;t that just taking 
things a little too far?" Willow babbled, her alcohol loosen tongue quite happy to run 
on and on. 

"Willow." Spike cut through her incoherent ramblings. 

"Yes?" 

"Drink your drink." Spike watched as she carelessly threw back the drink and called to 
the bartender. 

"Hi, can I have another one of these please?" she asked. The tender looked to Spike 
who nodded and poured out another shot. Spike reached out and took the bottle 
from him, placing it in front of Willow. Leaving their drinks on the bar Spike took 
Willows hand and led her to the dance floor. 

"Yay, we&rsquo;re going to dance." Willow giggled as Spike pulled her into his arms. 

"Yes, pet. We are." Spike laughed down at the sight of Willow looking up at him 
grinning like a Cheshire cat. Four drinks in ten minutes &ndash; she was quite the 
little spitfire. At least she wasn&rsquo;t as tense as she had been. She was more 
flexible, not fighting against him, keeping eye contact and allowing her body to bend 
to his. 

They spent the night alternately dancing and drinking, well Willow drank. Spike was 
amazed it didn&rsquo;t seem to affect her co-ordination, she was dancing well and 
as for walking she was fine - except for drifting to the left occasionally. It suited her, 
she smiled and laughed, danced with others (only after Spike had made it known that 
she was his and off limits apart from dancing) and flirted outrageously with the bar 
tender, who unbeknown to Spike slipped her his phone number! She resembled 
nothing of the timid little teenager of Sunnydale. 

Spike really didn&rsquo;t know why he was so surprised when she accepted an offer 
to dance with another girl, close to her own age, in order to get her boyfriend hot 
and bothered. When he&rsquo;d heard the proposition he had taken a sip of his 
beer, waiting for Willow to refuse. He nearly choked when he heard her giggle and 
watched her wave as she headed off to the dance floor hand in hand with the girl. 

"Well this could be interesting." He murmured to no one in particular as he put down 
his drink and leant back against the bar to watch. 

The dance wasn&rsquo;t anything highly sexual, but considering that the two 
dancers were drunk and so were most of the patriots of the bar, it was enough. The 
two girls, although both of similar height and weight, were the reverse of each other. 
Willow, pale skin, green eyes and fiery hair dressed in black. The other tan skin, deep 
chocolate brown eyes and dark hair dressed in red. They complimented each other, 
as did their movements to the slow beat of the song they were dancing to. They 
played off each other as they mirrored their movements, hands tracing the contours 
of their bodies, hips and shoulders moving slowly in time to the music, leaning 
toward each other getting closer. 

It worked. The girls&rsquo; boyfriend came and grabbed her from the dance floor 
and whisked her off into the darker confines of the club. Willow giggled until she felt 
an arm encircle her waist and pull her back against a hot smelly body while another 
hand entangled in her hair forcing her head back. 

"Spike!" she yelled as she bought her heel down on the cretins&rsquo; foot and her 
elbow roughly back into his gut. She could hear the air hiss out of his lungs. A white 
blur buzzed pass the side of her face and she heard the sickening crack of bone being 
broken. 

"Well, pet. I think you&rsquo;ve gotten enough attention for tonight." Spikes other 
hand grasped her arm as the cretin who had grabbed her fell to the floor, clutching 
his shattered jaw in pain. Willow could only stare at Spike in shock. 

<How the hell does he move so fast? And why is he swaying?> Willows alcohol 
laden mind struggled with the important questions of life. 

"Why are you swaying?" Willow asked. Her only reply was him disappearing from 
view, the feel of a shoulder in her stomach, arms wrapped around her legs and the 
floor suddenly being the ceiling. "Spike, your feet are walking on the ceiling." 

Spike didn&rsquo;t even bother to reply as he carried her from the club and out to 
the car. He estimated there was about an hour until sunrise and he needed to get her 
out of there. First stop was a gas station to refuel the car. As he was walking toward 
the shop front Willow called out to put in an order for candy corn. Spike rolled his 
eyes and quietly cursed the effects of alcohol but none the less picked up two bags of 
candy covered popcorn. Once back in the car Willow dived for the popcorn, only to 
have Spike pull it out of her grasp. 

"You can wait until we get to the house." Spike didn&rsquo;t want any of the candy 
treats getting spilt in his car. 

"The house?" Willow questioned. Spike didn&rsquo;t answer, he just concentrated on 
his driving and for the next twenty minutes the trip was spent in silence. 

"Wow." Was all Willow could manage as they drove up to an isolated beach house. 
Spike maneuvered the car into the garage, and once the roller-door had closed he 
got out and headed to the door leading into the house. 

"Come on, pet. Unless you want to sit in the car all day." Spike turned back to look at 
a bemused Willow. She slid over the seat and followed Spike through the door. 

They walked down a dark passage and into an equally dark room, until Spike turned 
on the light, once again causing Willow to go "Wow". It was a large room with soft 
carpet and three large midnight blue sofa&rsquo;s, with matching drapes covering 
the windows from ceiling to floor. One wall was an entertainment unit fitted with 
state of the art audio and visual system. Spike casually picked up a remote control 
and flicked on the widescreen television to MTV, the sound playing from hidden 
speakers around the room. He threw the popcorn at Willow. 

"Wow." Said Willow again. She watched as Spike crossed over to a cabinet and pulled 
out a bottle and two glasses. "Wow, Sambucca!" 

"Last drink before you go to bed, love." Spike said, causing Willow to pout. 

"I don&rsquo;t want to go to bed &ndash; it&rsquo;s too early." Willow said, taking 
the drink from Spike. "I haven&rsquo;t even had my dinner yet." 

Spike turned to look at her laughing lightly. She had been drinking all night on an 
empty stomach, he was amazed she hadn&rsquo;t passed out yet. 

"What&rsquo;s so funny?" Willow asked, pouring herself another shot. 

"You pet. You&rsquo;re completely smashed!" Spike watched as she sipped her drink 
and narrowed her eyes at him. 

"Are you, sir, suggesting that I am inebriated? Because I can assure you that 
although I may have indulged in one or two libations I am by no means intoxicated." 
The speech although very pretty would have sounded better if Willow had not been 
slurring slightly. Spike just shook his head and watched as she poured herself 
another drink. 

Willow continued to drink until the bottle was empty &ndash; some two hours later. 
That was when she had discovered that she was hungry, spotted the popcorn and 
started to shove handfuls into her mouth. 

"Pet, I really don&rsquo;t think you should do that." Spike quietly said, taking the 
second bag of corn and the empty bottle back over to the cabinet. 

"Why not?" Willow asked through a mouthful of popcorn. 

"You have been drinking straight Sambucca for hours on an empty stomach &ndash; 
the last thing you want to do is eat that crap." Spike leaned back on the cabinet to 
look at her. She stood up and faced him. 

"Well, you know, I&rsquo;m really sick of you and everyone else telling me what I 
should or should not do. It&rsquo;s my choice and if I want to stuff my face with 
popcorn I will." She nodded in agreement with herself and defiantly stuffed another 
handful of corn in her mouth. Spike let his mask of stoicism fall into place and 
walked over to her. 

"Fine Willow, be like that." He came in close and started to slowly circle her. "But just 
consider this. You have copious amounts of alcohol running through your blood, 
something your not use to, its like a poison. Any moment now your body is going to 
rebel against that poison, close in on itself. Your stomach will jettison anything that it 
contains, your blood will struggle to move, and your bodies self-defense system will 
kick in trying to eliminate what you have consumed. So imagine how you&rsquo;ll 
feel bringing all that popcorn back up, the sugar coating mixing together, perhaps 
some distinct colors will still be noticeable, the feel of the undigested corn scraping 
along your throat. Then of course there will be that delicious taste of stomach 
acid&hellip;" 

"Bastard!" spat Willow as she felt her stomach lurch, bringing her hand up to cover 
her mouth. Spike grabbed her arm and hurried her to the bathroom. 

"That was just too easy." Spike laughed as he walked back to the living room. He 
could hear Willow throw up &ndash; again and again and again. He sat down on a 
sofa and took off his boots, then stood up to take off the rest of his clothes until he 
was only in his jeans and headed back to the bathroom. Walking into the room he 
looked at her forlorn form sitting next to the toilet, head resting on the lid. He 
crouched down next to her, brushing her hair from her face. "I did warn you pet." 

"You are such a bastard." Willow said softly. Spike pulled her to her feet and shoved 
her towards the shower. He reached in and turned the shower on full force. Willow 
looked at him suspiciously. "Are you naked?" 

"Not quite. I will be soon and so will you." He started to undo the zip on her dress 
and Willow tried to slap away his hands. 

"What are you doing? I don&rsquo;t want to get naked with you!" her struggles were 
in vain as Spike caught her hands and held them still while he undressed her, then 
shoved her under the shower. Willow shut her eyes as she let the hot water run over 
her, vaguely aware that Spike had joined her in the shower. She was vague about his 
presence until she felt his cool hands running over her body. 

<Wow, he&rsquo;s got soft hands for a blood sucking fiend.> Willows alcohol 
muddled thoughts ran on. She looked down at the floor, her head feeling too heavy 
to hold up, and caught sight of Spikes hands snaking around to her stomach and 
breasts. <Oh, they&rsquo;re soft because they&rsquo;re covered in soap. Maybe 
they&rsquo;re made of soap. No just flesh. Dead flesh, though. Vampire flesh. Flesh 
on flesh. Oh no that tickles.> Willow let out a giggle and leaned back against Spike, 
her head falling against his shoulder. 

"Don&rsquo;t pass out yet, pet." He murmured into her ear. 

"Okay." Said Willow as she felt her eyes become heavy and blackness envelop her. 

Part 9 

"Willow" the voice was calling her from beyond the darkness. 

"Mmmm?" Willow struggled to open her eyes, she couldn’t - it was just too 
hard. 

"Come on pet, we have to get back." It was Spikes voice. As the realization 
hit Willow she forced her eyes open to slowly focus on Spike. 

"Okay." She said, squirming around, trying to sit up. Spike raised an 
eyebrow as he studied her. She must have still been drunk; not a surprise 
really considering how much alcohol she had consumed. He helped her up off 
the bed. She stood swaying unsteadily, keeping a tight hold on his arm as 
she looked down at herself. "I’ve changed." 

Willow was dressed in a pair of soft black linen trousers with a rich claret 
colored long sleeve T-shirt and her hair was still damp. She had a sudden 
flash of being in the shower with Spike and blushed. 

"You saw me naked!" she hissed at Spike, pulling her hand away from him 
causing her to collapse back onto the bed. Bringing her hands up she covered 
her face. "Oh God." 

Spike looked at her fallen form and rolled his eyes in exasperation. She was 
definitely on the tail end of the effects of the alcohol. He had let her 
sleep most of the day after she had passed out in the shower and expected 
her to be suffering from a hangover when she woke up – not still bloody 
drunk! He wanted to leave now so they could be back in Sunnydale before 
sunset. Sighing, he leaned across and gathered her up in his arms and took 
her out to the car. He climbed in behind the wheel and hit the roller-door 
control, wincing as it opened to reveal the late afternoon sun. Willow let 
out a groan as Spike turned the engine over. 

"Does it have to be so loud?" Spike grinned, drunk but starting to sober up. 
He pulled her limp body to his, pressing her head to his shoulder and felt 
her forehead. It was starting to warm up, she was going to be as sick as a 
dog. 

"Go back to sleep, love." He held her as the car moved out of the garage. 

*** 

"Willow." This time there was no mistaking the voice. Willows eyes flew 
open – big mistake her head screamed in protest. 

"Oh God." Willow groaned as she struggled to move. Her body felt like a 
truck had hit her. Spike smirked to himself knowing she was only going to 
get worse. 

"Go inside, have a shower and go to bed." She could hear Spikes voice softly 
breaking through the horrendous screaming of her mind and body. 

"Okay." Willow answered, struggling to get out of the car. Finally managing 
to stand she was about to shut the door when she heard Spike call to her and 
jingle her keys. She snatched them from him and staggered to her front door. 
She fumbled with the keys for about a minute before she was able to 
disappear into her house. Leaning back against the closed door she listened 
as Spike pulled away. 

<If I survive this,> Willow thought, grimacing as she practically crawled up 
the stairs. <I am never, ever going to drink again. Oh God I’m going to 
die.> Picking up her silk shorts and tank top she made her way to the 
bathroom, stopping twice to lean against the wall so she wouldn’t pass out. 
As soon as she saw the toilet a wave of nausea and the phantom taste of 
candy corn hit her. She spent the next fifteen minutes sitting in front of 
the toilet debating whether she would feel better if she just threw up. 
Giving it up as a lost cause she crawled into the shower and lay down as the 
water poured over her. At least that help ease the ache of her body. Finally 
she forced herself out of the shower, dried off and got dressed. 

Willow entered her room when she heard knocking from the French doors. 
Cautiously she peered out of the doors and into the darkness. It was 
Angel.<No, no, no.> She thought to herself. She could feel the tears of pain 
and frustration start to fall. Hesitating for a moment she walked over, 
opened the doors and invited him in."Hey, I just came by to make sure you 
were okay. You weren’t around last night." He stopped short, taking in her 
appearance, her tears and her trembling body. "Willow, what is it? What’s 
wrong?""Nothing. I just don’t feel…" her mind flashed back to candy corn, 
making her sway on her feet and everything went black.***From the dark 
recesses of the backyard Spike watched the whole scene. He saw Angel being 
invited in and then Willow faint. Of course Angel had done the only thing 
possible - caught her and carried her to the bed. He continued to watch as 
Angel shut the doors and went back to Willow. Spike knew that he wouldn’t 
leave Willow by herself until she was better. By the way she was burning up 
in the car that probably wouldn’t be until sometime tomorrow. This was just 
too perfect. Spike stubbed out his cigarette, watched for a little longer 
and then turned to leave."Think I’ll go find myself a slayer."***Willow was 
first aware of a burning pain in her head, then a throbbing ache that seem 
to work its way from her stomach all the way out to her fingers and toes. 
Subsequently she became aware that she was lying against something firm and 
cool, a cool hand was resting on her forehead with the thumb stroking her 
hair, and another hand was softly rubbing her stomach in a comforting 
action. She shifted her position trying to make out what was going on."Ssshh 
Willow. It’s okay. You fainted." She felt Angels voice rumble under her 
shoulder."I fainted?" Willow asked quietly, keeping her eyes closed against 
the pain. "Where am I?"Angel winced, she must have been sick if she didn’t 
know where she was. He had known something wasn’t right with her on Thursday 
night. 

"You’re at home Willow. Where are your parents?" asked Angel. They were 
never home. He sometimes thought that they didn’t even exist. 

"Angel my head hurts so much." He looked down at her, eyes held tightly 
close, she was speaking so quietly. Angel silently wondered if it was 
anything serious, fooling with the idea of calling a doctor. She was warm, 
not overly feverish. Probably it was nothing more than one of those pesky 
24-hour bugs that plagued mankind. Nothing to do but give her aspirin and 
keep her fluids up. Gently he lifted her back onto the pillows and went in 
search of aspirins. 

The logical place would be the bathroom. Walking into the room he saw a 
complete mess. Clothes and a towel were scattered over the floor, the shower 
was still gently running and soggy footprints marked the floor. Angel sighed 
as he stepped toward the bathroom cabinet. He halted his movements as he 
picked up a faint but unmistakable aroma. He glanced around the room, once 
more taking in the disorder. He couldn’t place the smell, but he knew it 
wasn’t what he associated with Willow. Pulling open the cabinet he searched 
for aspirin and found none. Cursing silently he stepped over to the shower 
turning the faucet off and picked up the towel, tossing it back on the towel 
rack. Next he bent down and picked up the clothes. The smell was stronger on 
the clothes. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying unsuccessfully to place 
the scent. He carried them back to Willows bedroom, folding them neatly over 
the back of a chair. For the first time he looked at the clothes and 
frowned. They weren’t what Willow would normally wear, perhaps she had 
borrowed them from someone, although they certainly weren’t Buffy’s style 
either. 

Kitchen, that would be the next place to keep aspirin. Angel searched the 
cupboards for ten minutes before finally coming across some dissolvable 
aspirin. He took the box, a glass and a bottle of water back to the room. 
Willow was still on the bed but had curled into a fetal position, knees 
drawn up to her chest. Reaching out he placed a cool hand against her 
forehead, causing her to jerk back, eyes flying open only to be filled with 
tears of pain as she bought her hands up to her head. 

"Willow, I want you try and drink this, okay?" he held the glass out to her. 
She just shook her head. 

"I can’t, Angel." She felt terrible and quite sure that if she even tried to 
drink it she would throw up. She could feel tears burning behind her eyes. 

"Willow, you’re sick and dehydrated. I need you to at least have a drink. 
Come on, just one glass." Angel urged and held the glass to her lips, 
watching as she slowly drank. He could see tears welling in her eyes and 
putting the glass down he pulled her back against his chest, rocking her and 
stroking her hair. "It’s alright Willow, I’m here. Go to sleep now." 

Willow hiccuped into his shoulder, allowing his gentle rocking to lull her 
back to sleep. Angel rested his chin on the sleeping girls’ head, wondering 
how something like this could happen. Last night at the Bronze both Buffy 
and Xander seem nonplussed at her absence, dismissing it with a wave of the 
hand and mumbling something about a headache. He knew exactly where Buffy 
and Xander would be tonight, at their usual table at the Bronze, probably 
not even noticing the non-appearance of their friend for another night. He 
wondered if Buffy had even bothered to call to find out if Willow was okay. 
Perturbed, Angel thought she would have only rung if she needed something. 
Angel didn’t think that Buffy was intentionally selfish, it was nonetheless 
one of her traits. He had often wondered at the differences between the two 
girls. Although Buffy had physical strength and was a striking girl, Willow 
had other qualities not so immediately arresting. Physically Angel had 
always thought her to be pretty, but she had a strength of character that 
Buffy seemed to lack, maybe it was her intelligence, her unusual sense of 
humor or the fact that she was always genuine in her concern unlike the 
façade Buffy often presented. 

A shudder from Willow brought Angel out of his reverie of thoughts. He 
rested the back of his hand against Willows cheek, she wasn’t as warm as 
before and her hands were cold against his chest. Holding her carefully he 
reached down and pulled the comforter up over both of them, making sure it 
was securely tucked around Willow. Leaning back against the pillows Angel 
allowed himself enjoy the sensation of Willows warm body pressed against his 
own. Closing his eyes he drifted to sleep. 

*** 

Angel awoke at the slight movement in his arms. 

"Willow?" he questioned. 

"I’m going to be sick." Quickly he sat her up and grabbed the waist bin. 
Willow leaned over it and dry heaved a few times before shaking her head. 
"Nope, I was wrong." 

Angel removed the waist bin and looked at the clock, 4am. He looked back to 
Willow, and pushed her hair back from her face, his palm cupping her pale 
cheek, once more it was warm. 

"How you feeling?" he moved to the side of the bed and poured her a glass of 
water, dropping two aspirin in. 

"Better." Willow said, she could feel herself shaking, a dull ache behind 
her eyes and had to fight back the urge to gag. But at least her head wasn’t 
pounding and she had stopped aching. She could feel Angels hand on her 
shoulder urging her to lean back against him. His hand pressed against her 
forehead, feeling delightfully cool against her clammy skin. 

"Good, drink this." Angel knew she was lying, he could see her hand tremble 
as she took the glass from him. She slowly sipped the contents. Angel 
reached down to take the empty glass from her hands, he could feel her relax 
against him again. 

"You don’t have to stay Angel. I’ll be fine." She barely whispered, but 
Angel heard easily enough. Before he could even say he was staying she was 
sound asleep. Laying her back against the pillows Angel bought the comforter 
back up. He took a final look before heading off to find something he could 
use to cover the windows. 

*** 

Across town in the mansion Buffy sat in front of the fireplace. Waiting. Her 
impatience growing with every second that past. 
  

Part 10 

Angel made his way through the garden of the mansion. He had stayed with 
Willow until he was satisfied she was all right â “ once she was able to keep 
down toast, water and had been more herself. Although when he left she was 
still quiet, but he put that down to her being ill. His plan for this 
evening was simple. Go home, grab a bite to eat, shower and head out to see 
Buffy. He got home and saw Buffy. She turned to glare at him with anger 
filled blue eyes. 

"Where the hell have you been?" she spat. 

"Buffy, what are you doing here? Have you been waiting long?" Angel walked 
over to her, but Buffy stepped away from him. She was furious. 

"How long? Long enough to know that you havenâ &trade;t been here since last night! 
So does my boyfriend want to tell me where the hell heâ &trade;s been for the last 
24 hours?" Buffy yelled. Angel watched her silently; he was getting tired of 
her selfish temper tantrums. 

"Buffy, this routine is getting old." Angel passed a hand over his eyes and 
turned away from the irate slayer. 

"Donâ &trade;t you dare turn your back on me!" she hissed, grabbing his arm and 
spinning him back to face her. "Donâ &trade;t try and walk away from me, from this â “ 
I have a right to know!" 

For the next eight hours the mansion halls echoed with the hysterical 
screaming demands of a jealous slayer. Never once did Angel furnish her with 
an answer to his whereabouts. 

A little seed of doubt planted by a devious and cunning vampire can go a 
long way. 

*** 

Willow felt bad. She had been touched by Angelâ &trade;s concern. She hadnâ &trade;t 
enlightened him to the real cause of her illness, preferring to agree that 
she had caught a bug. <Yes, alcoholious scullious!> She shook her head in 
disbelief. <I know one thing for sure â “ I am never drinking again.> 

Here she was Monday morning dressed in her regulation fluffy stuff ready for 
school, with hours to go before she even had to make her way there. Deciding 
she needed some fresh air to clear her thoughts she opened the French 
windows. Sitting directly in front of the doors were two shop boxes, with 
her black strappy shoes on top. <Oh no, this is not good.> Willow felt her 
stomach drop as she bought the boxes into her room. Carefully she removed 
the lid of the first box to reveal a layer of tissue paper, underneath 
Willow was shocked to see the soft white silk and lace knickers and bra set 
that had been in the dressing room in LA. As she delved deeper into the box 
through the layers of tissue paper she counted the full 7 sets. Pushing that 
box aside she opened the second. Sitting on top of the layer of paper was 
the black jewelry box, inside was the choker. Under the paper was the dress. 
<Oh no.> 

There were no notes, no indication as to who the boxes were from, but of 
course there was no doubt that it was Spike. 

*** 

Willow walked into the library and was startled by the sight of Buffy 
crying, with Giles sitting besides her doing his best to be of comfort. 

"Buffy, what is it? Whatâ &trade;s happened?" Willow rushed to the side of her 
friend. 

"Aâ |Aâ |Angel." She hiccuped. Willows eyes flew open in horror. 

"Oh, oh Buffy what happened? Is heâ |" she was unable to even ask the 
question. 

"He wonâ &trade;t tell me where he was Saturday night. I mean, Giles, you know what 
vampires are like â “ they have huge appetites for all types of things. You 
know sexual. And if there was nothing going on then why wouldnâ &trade;t he just 
tell me? Oh god, what if itâ &trade;s Drusilla? What ifâ |" Buffy continued her 
hysterical ravings as Willow comprehended what she had said. 

"Buffy, Angel was with me on Saturday." Buffy turned, wide-eyed to look at 
her friend. 

"You? He spent the whole night with you? Why on earth would he do that?" 
Buffy stared at Willow, her mouth hanging open. 

"I was sick and he stayed to look after me." Willow hesitatingly offered. 

"Oh thank god, I have nothing to worry about. He was only with Willow! Are 
you sure he was with you the whole night?" Buffy words unintentionally stung 
Willow to the core. 

"Yes, the whole night and Sunday until the sun went down. In fact, you know 
Iâ &trade;m not feeling that great still. I might cut this afternoons classes and go 
home early." Willow picked up her bag and left the library to the sound of 
Buffy ranting about how terrible she felt. She had broken up with Angel and 
he was only with Willow. How silly could she be? Of course she would have to 
go over there right away, tell him he was forgiven and then engage in a 
couple of hours of tears and soothing kisses. Willow just wanted to get the 
hell out of there. 

*** 

Willow woke up the next morning and groaned as she saw another two boxes 
sitting at the doors. <Why is he doing this?> She thought to herself as she 
struggled out of bed and grabbed the boxes. She hesitatingly opened the 
first box. It was the long black boots. Willow already knew that the second 
box held the leather skirt and green top. Opening it she saw a note. 

Dancing tonight, 7pm Bronze. 

It wasnâ &trade;t signed and although she didnâ &trade;t recognize the writing she knew it 
was from Spike. Sitting down on the edge of her bed she looked over the note 
again. <Itâ &trade;s Tuesday night, the Bronze will be deserted, especially at 
seven. If I donâ &trade;t goâ |> Willow wondered what the consequences would be if she 
didnâ &trade;t go. He hadnâ &trade;t hurt her, so far. There was no threat attached to the 
note, but the instructions were clear and just the knowledge of who had sent 
it was threat enough. <Who am I kidding? Iâ &trade;ll go.> Sighing at the finality 
of that thought, Willow got ready for school. 

*** 

"Hey Willow." Willow felt Ozâ &trade;s arm encircle her waist softly pulling her 
back into his warm embrace. "How you feeling today?" 

Willow was starting to dread that question. 

"Good, how about you?" she asked automatically. 

"Not bad. I missed you on the weekend though. Weâ &trade;re having a jam session 
tonight at Devonâ &trade;s â “ you should come." He kissed the back of her shoulder. 

"Oh, tonight? Iâ |I canâ &trade;t. I have a paper I really need to do some research 
for." She looked down at her feet. <Great, lie to him. Thatâ &trade;s going to look 
great. When? When will it look great? When youâ &trade;re lying dead in a gutter, 
the life force drained from your body? Oh god.> 

"Okay, perhaps tomorrow we could do something?" he let go of her waist as he 
came to his classroom. 

"Yeah, tomorrow." Willow said, smiling. <Thatâ &trade;s if there will be a 
tomorrow.> Willow kept walking until she found herself in the library. 

"Hey Will, what you doing?" Buffy greeted her as she walked through the 
doors. Buffy continued without even pausing to let her answer. "Can you 
believe Giles wants me to train tonight? I mean just â ?cause I miss a few 
nights here and there he suddenly demands that I do a session tonight. What 
is it with these English? Are they all Naziâ &trade;s?" 

"Naziâ &trade;s were German based Buffy." Willow answered quietly. 

"Oh, well, I knew that." Buffy smiled. "So you want to keep me company?" 

"Hey I thought I was the Buffsters companion for the evening?!" Xander 
exclaimed from where he was sitting at the table. Willow smiled, where ever 
Buffy was Xander wasnâ &trade;t far behind. 

"No Buffy, I think Iâ &trade;ll skip it tonight. You know what they say twoâ &trade;s 
company, threeâ &trade;s a crowd. Iâ &trade;m going to do some research at home for a paper 
anyway." Buffy raised her eyebrows at Willow and started on at how Giles was 
such a slave driver and how she didnâ &trade;t have a life worth living. 

After two hours of that, Willow was happy to finally get away and head home. 
To the boots. To the clothes. To her appointment at 7pm. 

*** 

Willow was sitting at a table in one of the dark corners of the Bronze, 
watching people. Tuesday was not the most popular night for Bronzing, so 
there were very few people â “ mainly the sort who were more interested in 
flashing their fake IDâ &trade;s and getting smashed rather than in what was going 
on or who was there. It wasnâ &trade;t the cream of Sunnydale youth â “ especially not 
the sort who would know her. She thanked a god she didnâ &trade;t believe in for 
small mercies. She studied the few people carefully, failing jocks, girls 
who were just too slutty to be cool, morons who thought they were cool 
because they could get the sluts â “ it was just a viscous circle that would 
continue to turn. So lost was Willow in her observations that she didnâ &trade;t 
even realize that Spike had arrived. 

"You came, pet." Spike spoke softly as he sat down on the stool next to 
hers. The duster creaked in protest. Willow glanced at him. 

"I didnâ &trade;t really have much of a choice." 

"There are always choices. That outfit looks even better than it did in LA. 
Such a exquisite color â “ on you." He ran his fingers lightly up the sleeve 
of the top, making Willow shiver. 

"So I had a choice? And if I hadnâ &trade;t come?" she asked him. He stared at her 
for a moment, face devoid of expression. 

"Doesnâ &trade;t matter â “ youâ &trade;re here. Come on." He grabbed her hand and led her to 
the deserted dance floor. 

The first dance was a disaster. Willow was self-conscious. She stumbled 
twice against Spike. She was distinctly aware that every set of eyes were on 
them. Her nervous glances at the occupied tables confirmed her fears, making 
her miss many of the turns that Spike tried to maneuver her to do. As the 
music stopped she heard Spike sigh, causing her to look at him for the first 
time since they had begun dancing. He was staring at her, an eyebrow raised 
in question while the rest of his face was set in a snarl. Willow broke the 
eye contact as Spike pushed her away from him. 

"Stay." The one word told Willow exactly what he meant. She watched through 
lowered lashes as Spike strode over to the DJ, grabbed his shirt and pulled 
him across the console and right into his face. Not wanting to watch the 
incensed vampire anymore, Willow turned her attention back to the few 
occupants of the Bronze. Most of the guys were leering at her, whilst the 
sluts giggled into their ears. 

Spikeâ &trade;s arm encircled her waist, reaching around to take her hand, ready to 
spin her. He felt the hand tremble. 

"I donâ &trade;t want to be here. I want to go." Willow spoke decidedly, her eyes 
still fixed on the few occupants of the Bronze. Spike spun her around to 
face him, her back to the patrons. 

"Why?" he growled, lowering his head just inches from Willows. She couldnâ &trade;t 
answer him, couldnâ &trade;t think of a justifiable reason apart from the fact she 
felt self-conscious. Spike turned her back to face the kids at the bar. 
Whispering into her ear. "Are you worried about those wankers? Hmm? Donâ &trade;t 
be. Theyâ &trade;ll be dead soon, to stupid to look after themselves. All of them 
will be nothing more than a pile of dust. They arenâ &trade;t even worthy of the 
time you waste thinking about them." 

Willow could feel him move in close behind her, his arms snaking around her 
waist to hold both her hands, fingers entwining with her own. With a sudden 
jerk he pulled her hard up against his body, and changed ears. 

"Tonight they donâ &trade;t exist. There are only three things that you need to 
acknowledge tonight. You, me and the music. You will look only at me, will 
concentrate only on me. Do you understand?" he growled into her ear, his 
fingers pressing tightly against her captured ones. She nodded her 
agreement. 

Suddenly he stepped back from her and spun her around to face him, drawing 
her gaze to his. Pulling her into the familiar stance he smirked as he led 
her off. Willow allowed herself to become lost in the music, in their 
movements, the feel of his fingers against hers, his hand cupping the small 
of her back, his unwavering gaze. The steps they made became blurred 
together in a strange mixture of pleasure and obedience. She forgot all 
about the others in the Bronze as she surrendered herself to Spike, loosing 
herself in the sensations of pleasure that coursed through her as they 
danced. When Spikes stare became too much she closed her eyes against it, 
concentrating on the feel of his hands against her body. 

The music, like them, never stopped. As soon as one song would end another 
would immediately start â “ the DJ obviously living in fear that if the music 
stopped even for the briefest of moments he would be dead. It was a peculiar 
mixture of music, songs that were rarely played in the Bronze. Slow songs of 
a waltz, through to good old fashioned rock and roll. To Willow the night 
started to become a blur of music, swings, spins and the feel of Spikes arms 
enveloping her, his body pressed against hers. 

"My god, is that not tacky? Hiring professional dancers for quiet nights! 
What is management thinking?" Cordelia asked her friends as they walked 
toward their usual table for after movie drinks and chitchat. "I mean, as if 
thatâ &trade;s going to encourage anyone else to get up there and make a foolâ |" 

Her voice ran off as she looked closer at the couple on the dance floor. 
They were familiar. Red hair and peroxide blonde. Wearing leather?! She got 
up and headed to the payphone, leaving her friends to moan incessantly about 
managementâ &trade;s stupidity. Quickly she dialed the number of the library, not 
even waiting for Giles to say a word. 

"Okay, you all have to get down to the Bronze, like ten minutes ago!" 
without even waiting for an answer she hung up and moved to the door to 
wait. Xander was the first of the foursome to enter. 

"What is it Cordy?" he asked as she dragged him forward and pointed to the 
oblivious couple currently waltzing on the floor. "So, dancers. What heâ &trade;s 
yours and you want Buffy toâ |Oh my god." 

He stopped dead in tracks as he realized it was Willow, in a leather skirt, 
with matching boots. Dancing intimately with Spike. Giles, Angel and Buffy 
dashed over to Xander and Cordy, frantically looking around the Bronze in 
search of some massive vampire attack. 

"Well, whatâ &trade;s the big emergency? Donâ &trade;t tell me youâ &trade;ve broken a nail,
because 
I didnâ &trade;t bring an emery board!" Buffy sniped at Cordelia, while Giles and 
Angel joined Xander in dropping their jaws to the ground in shock. The soft 
opening bars of Fastballâ &trade;s The Way reverberated around the Bronze. Buffy, 
grimacing in disgust at the lack of emergency, turned her attention to the 
dancers. "Thatâ &trade;s Willow. Who is sheâ |someone please tell me sheâ &trade;s not dancing 
with Spike!" 

"What are they doing?" asked Xander as he watched Willow and Spike move to 
the music in a dance that he had never seen before. 

"Urm, well, apparently it would seem to be some bastardization of the 
Tango." Giles offered, flustered not only by the knowledge of the dancers 
identities but by the highly sensual performance of the dance. 

"Tango?" asked Xander, still at a lost. 

"Tango?" questioned Buffy, vaguely aware of the idea. 

"Tango." Growled Angel, low and menacing. 

"Well, I thought you guys might find it interesting." Cordelia piped up. 
"Now what are you going to do about it?" 

"Well, yes. Thatâ &trade;s a good question." Stated Giles. He could see that Willow 
was in no immediate danger, well thatâ &trade;s what he hoped. The Bronze being a 
very public place presented a problem. "I suppose someone could cut in?" 

The little group surrounding him all turned and rolled their eyes at his 
suggestion, flustering him even more. 

"That outfit is just so not Willow." Stated Buffy, as she watched the splits 
in the skirt move to reveal Willows long legs even more. 

"Well, I donâ &trade;t know, I think she looks kind of hot." Xander stated, earning 
a slap across his arm from Cordelia. "Ow, what? We donâ &trade;t date anymore! I can 
form opinions!" 

They all turned back to watch the couple tango. Spike had just bought Willow 
back in from a spin and was running his hand down her thigh to her knee to 
bring it up to his waist and pull her in flush against his body. Angel 
growled low in the back of his throat. Letting her leg drop, Spike snaked 
one arm low around her back. Slowly Spike traced a path from Willows navel 
up between her breasts and wrapped his hand tightly around her throat, 
forcing her head and upper body to lean back. It looked like he was 
strangling her. Then he leant over her and placed a kiss in between her 
breasts, just below the v of her shirt. 

Before the group had time to register that Spike had kissed Willow, Angel 
had grabbed him and pulled him away. Sending Willow sprawling to the ground. 
Angel landed two sound punches to Spikes face. Spike blocked the third punch 
and let fly with a couple of his own, throwing them both off balance and 
separating them. 

Giles rushed across to Willow as Buffy moved forward to help Angel. They 
were moving too fast for even Buffy to contemplate how she could help. 

"Oh dear, Buffy! Public place - no staking." Giles hissed as he helped 
Willow to a safe distance from the brawling vampires. 

Angel lunged for Spike again, but Spike quickly ducked out of the way and 
swung a leg out to kick at Angels knee, causing him to fall. As he hit the 
floor he heard Spikes laughter echo around the Bronze, then felt his hands 
pull him off the floor and shove him backwards. Angel gathered himself 
together and turned to face Spike, anger clearly visible on his face. Buffy 
rushed over to his side in preparation to take on Spike again. 

"What the hell are you doing with Willow?" he growled. Spike smirked at him 
and swung his eyes in the direction of where Willow was now standing with 
Giles and Xander, pale and shaken, tears falling down her face. 

"What did it look like? We were dancing you great poof!" Spikeâ &trade;s laughter 
rumbled from his chest. 

"You stay away from her or I swear Iâ &trade;ll stake you myself." Angel warned. 

"Yeah. Just like you, isnâ &trade;t it peaches? Want to protect whatâ &trade;s yours." Spike 
laughed. "But of course after you spent the night in her bedâ |" 

"You what?" Angel heard Buffy ask from beside him. He turned his head 
slightly, to look at Buffy, and felt Spikes fist crash into his temple, 
knocking him to the ground. As he tried to get up Buffy landed heavily on 
top of him, sending him sprawling back down. Looking up he caught sight of 
Spike disappearing out the door. 

"Shit." He mumbled to himself. He felt Buffy struggle to get off his back. 

"What the hell did he mean â ?slept in her bedâ &trade;? You are such a bastard. Sheâ &trade;s 
my best friend â “ how could you? In fact how could she? How could either of 
you?" Buffy questioned as Angel slowly pulled himself off the floor. 

"We will discuss this later, Buffy." He said sternly. "I think at the moment 
we need to find out exactly what happened tonight." 

Angel turned back to look at Willow who was being comforted by Giles, while 
Xander seemed more interested in raising his eyebrows everytime she moved 
her legs and the splits opened a little further. Sighing he walked over to 
them with Buffy sulkily following. Giles glanced up and shook his head. He 
hadnâ &trade;t been able to get anything out of her. 

"Maybe we should get her back to the library?" said Giles, already guiding 
the red head toward the door with Xander and Buffy following. Angel watched 
as they left. 

"Cordy, what do you know about this?" Angel asked. 

"Nothing. Came in. There they were." Angel rubbed his eyebrow. Glancing 
around the near empty Bronze he took in the bartender and decided he was 
probably was the best source of information. 

Ten minutes later he was back in the library. Willow had calmed down and was 
sitting at the table with Giles next to her. Buffy was pacing. Xander was 
still staring at the splits in her skirt. As soon as Angel strode through 
the doors, Giles stood up and motioned him toward his office, closing the 
door after them. 

"Well?" asked Giles. 

"The bartender said Willow was there, Spike came and that theyâ &trade;d been 
dancing for a couple of hours. What about you?" Angel said. Giles shook his 
head. 

"She seems confused, could be shock. As far as I can tell she was by herself 
at the Bronze and as you said Spike showed up. But.." Giles took his glasses 
off. 

"But what?" asked Angel. 

"Well she said he didnâ &trade;t hurt her, that he had made no threat. Then there 
are otherâ |peculiarities. Sheâ &trade;s been so very quiet for the last few days. She 
seems reflective, rather downcast at timesâ |and then there were the incidents 
last week with the frogs." Said Giles, cleaning his glasses. "I mean you 
yourself have said she seemed odd." 

"Are you suggesting that something has been going on? Something that she isn 
â &trade;t telling us?" Angel asked. 

"I donâ &trade;t know Angel. But I donâ &trade;t like the idea that Spike seems to be 
focusing on her. As you know it isnâ &trade;t his style." Angel looked at Giles. 

"Heâ &trade;s been watching her house â “ he knew that I was there on Saturday night." 
Angel searched for some meaning for the actions, but could find none. "Iâ &trade;ll 
take her home, see if I can find out something." 

*** 

They had walked all the way back to Willows house in silence. Angel unsure 
what to say. She had invited him in and they were now standing in her room, 
Willow saying she wanted nothing more than to have a bath and go to bed. 

"Probably a good idea. Do you want me to stay for a while?" he asked. She 
shook her head. Angel thought there was no way he was going to let Spike get 
near her. He gathered her into his arms for a farewell hug when he smelt it. 
The smell that had been on the clothes in her bathroom on Saturday. It was 
Spike. He held her close for a moment, thinking. Without letting her go, he 
asked. "Are you going to tell me whatâ &trade;s going on Willow?" 

He could feel her heartbeat increase slightly and her body tense. 

"What do you mean, Angel?" she mumbled against his chest. Holding her 
shoulders he pushed her away to look her in the eye. 

"You and your clothes reek of Spike. Just like the clothes in your bathroom 
on Saturday. So, why donâ &trade;t you tell me whatâ &trade;s going on?" he watched her eyes 
fill with tears. 

"I donâ &trade;t know, Angel. I donâ &trade;t know whatâ &trade;s going on." He looked at her, 
knowing she wasnâ &trade;t lying, she was genuinely confused. If he was going to get 
anything out of her he was going to have to ask specific questions. 

"Was Spike with you before? On Saturday?" he asked her, he could feel a 
burning pain working itâ &trade;s way up from his gut, he didnâ &trade;t like this. She 
nodded mutely. She had been sick, headache and nausea â “ could it have been 
from blood loss or a claiming ritual. He scanned her neck and wrists but 
could see no bites. "Did he bite you? Did you invite him in?" 

Something flashed in her green eyes, too late he realized that it was anger. 

"Do you honestly think I would be stupid enough to invite him into my home? 
Sure, Iâ &trade;m just going to say â ?Great to see you Spike â “ why donâ &trade;t you just 
come right on in and make yourself at home!â &trade; Donâ &trade;t you think I would tell 
you if he bit me? Do you want to know something? The night you walked me 
home from the Bronze â “ he was there. You and Buffy were too wrapped up in 
each other to even notice. I donâ &trade;t know what he wants. I donâ &trade;t know why heâ
&trade;s 
here. I just donâ &trade;t know Angel." She wrenched her arms out of Angels grasp 
and turned away from him, tears of frustration running down her face. 

"Willow if you donâ &trade;t tell me what is going on I canâ &trade;t help you." He growled. 

"Donâ &trade;t you understand?" she turned to face him. "I donâ &trade;t know what is going 
on and I donâ &trade;t need your help! He hasnâ &trade;t hurt me, he hasnâ &trade;t done anything
to 
meâ |" 

Willow was cut off as Angel rushed her, pushing her back into the wall, his 
demon visage coming to the fore. 

"Do you see this Willow? This is what Spike is! He will hurt you, he will 
kill you. He isnâ &trade;t human heâ &trade;s a demon. A demon that feeds on innocence and 
you are like a beacon to him. You would be so tempting to him, to destroy 
your very essence, consume your innocence and then thereâ &trade;s the pain your 
death would cause. Donâ &trade;t you dare be fooled into believing heâ &trade;s something he 
â &trade;s not. This is what he is. A blood thirsty demon." He thrust her hard back 
against the wall before letting her fall into a sobbing heap on the floor. 
Cursing himself, he turned from her, trying to regain some control. He felt 
the demon settle and his human face emerge as he turned back to her. 
Squatting down next to her, he reached out to stroke her hair. "Iâ &trade;m sorry, 
Willow. I just, I donâ &trade;t want anything to happen to you. I donâ &trade;t want you to 
get hurt." 

Sighing, he gathered her struggling form up into his arms and rocked her to 
sleep. 

Outside Spike smiled happily to himself. 

*** 

Willow felt like she was being alternately suffocated and abandoned. Oz had 
been sleeping over every night, Buffy was doing regular patrols to include 
her house and Angel would spend every moment he could trying to see into her 
soul. However tonight was Friday and she was back to being totally alone. 
Angel and Buffy after a week of misunderstandings were making nice while Oz 
was going to LA for a gig. Willow had meant to be going with him, but Oz at 
the last moment said it wouldnâ &trade;t be fair on her since the band was going to 
be sharing a hotel room for the night. Willow had protested, saying that she 
would even pay for a room of their own, but Oz stood firm that she shouldnâ &trade;t 
come. She hadnâ &trade;t bothered to tell Giles. Ever since Tuesday night she had 
felt totally alone. Although she was aware that Angel would have repeated 
what she had said â “ she knew that she had left out too many details. She 
wanted to tell them what had been happening but found that she couldnâ &trade;t. 
They wouldnâ &trade;t let her talk, assuming things that were totally incorrect. 

A knocking at the French windows broke her thoughts. She walked over and 
opened them, thinking was Angel. It was Spike. White shop box in hand. 

"Hello, love. Going to invite me in?" he smirked at her. Willow looked at 
him and shook her head. "Oh, well pity you already did it on Tuesday night." 

He walked straight into her room, casually throwing the box on her bed and 
grabbed her wrist to stop her falling over from the shock. 

"Youâ |how didâ |Why are you here?" Willow asked, frowning. 

"Since our last little rendezvous was so rudely interrupted I thought we 
might go dancing." Spike let her go and looked around her room in disgust. 
"You have one last outfit Iâ &trade;d like to see you in, pet." 

"Why on earth do you think Iâ &trade;d go with you? Iâ &trade;m making a choice, Spike. Iâ
&trade;m 
not going anywhere with you." Willow boldly said and instantly regretted it. 

"Wrong choice, pet." He growled. "Now, why donâ &trade;t we reassess the options. 
You can get dressed and come to LA, weâ &trade;ll go to club â “ your choice even â “ 
and have a good time dancing. You can say no and die." 

Willow looked at him, knowing that she would go. 

"I get to choose the club?" she asked. A plan quickly forming. 

"Wherever you want to go, pet." He raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to 
give in so easily. 

"Fine, Iâ &trade;ll get changed." Willow looked at Spike expectantly. "I said I was 
going to get changed." 

"So? Iâ &trade;ve seen you naked before â “ go ahead." Spike laughed as she rolled her 
eyes at him. He turned his back for her privacy and watched her reflection 
in the glass of the windows. 

Part 11 

The trip to LA was made in silence. Willow sitting as far away from Spike as 
possible, defiantly staring at the blacked out window. The only conversation 
they had was when the car finally reached LA and Spike had asked where 
Willow wanted to go. She chose the club that the Dingoes were playing at, 
some trendy club full of would-be intellectuals from nearby universities, 
students who spent the nights wearing black and declaring that everything 
was so cathartic. They were the types of student who incited most people to 
joyfully dream of ripping their throats out so they could truly appreciate 
the meaning of cathartic. The club was packed and with Willow wearing the 
only color in the whole place she stuck out like a sore thumb. They had 
barely walked though the doors when Devon rushed up to greet her, saying how 
wonderful it was that she had been able to make it but she had just missed 
their set. He also told her that Oz was back in the dressing rooms, just to 
tell the bouncer she was with the band. 

"Well done, pet." Spike growled at her. "You can have your ten minutes with 
the wolf and then we’ll head out." 

Willows plan was coming undone. She had an idea that once they got in the 
club she would be fine. That obviously wasn’t going to happen. Turning away 
from Spike she headed in the general direction that Devon had pointed. Spike 
followed a few steps behind her, weaving between the patrons as they headed 
toward a corridor that was roped off and manned by a burly bouncer. Who wasn 
’t going to let Willow go any further. Walking up behind her Spike casually 
flung his arm over her shoulder. 

"We’re with the band mate." Spike could feel Willow tense under his arm. 
Spike dropped his arm from her shoulders and fell back two steps behind her. 
He chuckled to himself as he heard the sounds similar to that of a sleazy 
porn film coming from many of the rooms leading off the corridor. Willow, 
concerned only with finding Oz, was unaware of the sounds that were subdued 
by the techno music blaring through the club. The room she wanted came into 
view and as she reached out to turn the knob she felt Spikes hand encircle 
her upper arm and heard him say her name. As the door opened she turned back 
to glance at him, and found him to be virulently staring over her head into 
the room, his fingers gripping her arm painfully. 

It all seemed like one of those dreadful dreams where everything slows down 
and every miniscule detail is magnified. As she turned her head away from 
Spike, she heard Oz. 

"Fuck baby. YES!" Oz hissed the last word out in his ascendancy. Her eyes 
fell on Oz, sitting in a chair with his trousers around his ankles, blonde 
hair gripped firmly between his fingers as he thrust into the mouth of a 
girl kneeling between his legs. His eyes were open but glazed over in lust 
and his face twisted in pure ecstasy. 

"Oz?" Willow questioned. The girls’ head twisted in his hold, a trickle of 
semen leaking from the side of her mouth. 

Then the door slammed shut and Willow was suddenly facing away from it. Her 
body pulled back against Spikes, his fingers still biting into her arm. 

"Go back to the bar, get a drink and I’ll be there soon." Without 
questioning him she walked steadily toward the bar area, the image of her 
boyfriend seemed to be burnt into her retina. Spike watched as she walked 
away and then heard the door open. 

Oz struggling to get his jeans back up around his waist, practically fell 
out the door. Spike grabbed his throat and threw him back into the room, 
then walked in and slammed the door. Standing in front of the door Spike 
looked from the blonde to Oz, jeans still falling about his ankles, 
struggling to his feet on the other side of the room. He looked back at the 
girl and smiled. 

"Have a good time, love?" she glanced at Oz then back to Spike and nodded 
mutely. "Let’s make it a night to never forget." 

He grabbed her hair, yanking her to her feet, bought his teeth down to 
roughly rip her throat and drained her dry. She didn’t even have time to 
realize what had happened. 

"Holy shit," whimpered Oz trying to disappear into the wall he was against. 

"Unfortunately, you won’t remember it." Spike snarled as he let her body 
drop to the floor. Demon visage still in place, he stalked over to Oz, 
grabbed him by the throat and lifted him high off the floor. "Now you have 
really spoilt my night. I hope it was worth it mate, because I 
need…atonement." 

With that Spike used his free hand to grab Oz’s testicles and twisted them, 
he could feel the skin rip and the flesh tear. Oz screamed in agony. Spike 
dropped him, looking down at his writhing form in disgust. 

"Guess you’ll remember this for a while." That was the last thing Oz heard 
before he passed out. 

Making his way back out to the bar, Spike fully expected to see a 
hysterically weeping Willow. Instead she was sitting quietly at the bar, 
studying the mass of students. Spike walked over, sat down next to her, lit 
a cigarette and waited for her to say something. He was nearly finished the 
cigarette when she finally spoke. 

"You know, the music here is crap. Let’s go somewhere else." Willow said, 
finally looking at him. 

"Back to the Club?" Spike suggested. Willow nodded unhesitatingly. Grabbing 
her hand he led her through the crowd and out into the night. 

*** 

The Club was exactly as Willow remembered it. It seemed soothing to her, 
familiar. They walked over to the bar, dropping down into the same stools as 
the previous week. The bartender came over, broadly grinning hello to Willow 
and turning to Spike for their order. Soon drinks were sitting in front of 
them, Willow dipped her finger in the Sambucca and traced the rim of her 
glass, bought her finger up to her mouth and sucked the residual alcohol 
off. She looked up into the bar mirror, glancing at the reflections, knowing 
that there were far more people then reflections. She would rather look at 
the reflections than close her eyes. Every time she blinked she could see 
flashes of Oz and the girl. His voice still echoed in her ears. At least 
here she could listen to the music, engage in silly chitchat with the 
bartender and dance. She would dance until she dropped. 

"Are we going to dance then?" she asked Spike. Spike glanced down at the 
still full shot glass and the pale fingers carelessly wrapped around it. He 
reached out and caught one of her hands in his and walked out to the dance 
floor with her. 

He had expected her to be tense, like those first few dances at the Bronze, 
since she was totally sober. But she wasn’t. If anything she moved better 
than she had the first night they had come to the Club. She was submissive 
to his every whim, even reading his movements, moving smoothly with him. 
They danced for a few songs, then went back to the bar for their drinks. 
Willow merely dipped her finger into hers again and didn’t have a chance to 
sip it before someone came up and asked her to dance. Without even looking 
to Spike she accepted, happily moving out to the dance floor. 

Spike watched her. He watched her move with casual elegance and wondered if 
he should tell her that every time she raised her arms the slip top would 
work up, leaving her midriff bare except for the transparent red of the 
gauze top. He watched as the idiot who had asked her to dance tried to 
imitate their previous dance. He was failing miserably – and Willow was 
obviously becoming irritated by his fumblings. Spike laughed as she broke 
away from him and started to walk back to the bar. He stood up and greeted 
her halfway across the floor. 

"Come on pet, let’s show him how do it proper!" Spike laughed as he grabbed 
Willows hand. He heard her giggle as she followed him back onto the dance 
floor. He pulled her into his arms and danced. Soon they were both lost in 
the exhilaration of their actions. They fooled around to the music, trying 
new steps, reinventing old ones. Dancing, doing strange things that most 
people wouldn’t even think about. Moving together without touching, 
mirroring their movements, their eyes guiding them. Changing to a different 
style, their feet entangled as they moved, hands resting on each others 
hips. For the rest of the time they spent dancing there was no method, no 
restraints, they did whatever they wanted. Ignoring everyone else in the 
Club. 

It was 2am when Spike pulled away and headed back to his abandoned drink on 
the bar. Willow followed him. As she was resuming her seat, Spike watched as 
she again dipped her finger in her drink, traced the rim and gently sucked 
her finger. 

"Pet, are you going to drink that or poke it to death?" Spike queried. She 
glanced up at him and then back to her drink. 

"Probably poke it to death." She replied, repeating the action. Spike threw 
his head back and roared. "So…are we going to dance some more?" 

Spike looked down at her. She was hot from the dancing, her previously pale 
skin slightly flushed. They’d been dancing for hours and he didn’t think she 
’d be up for more, maybe he had underestimated her. He knew the reason 
behind her sudden desire to dance non-stop. The same reason she was dancing 
so well. The numbness that takes over an individual in reaction to emotional 
pain. The need to loose yourself in something other than the pain. 

"No, pet. We’re going. So stop poking and drink." He growled as he downed 
the rest of his shot. 

*** 

As they drove back to the beach house a storm was building, lightning 
blazing across the night sky. The car was safely in the garage and Spike had 
led Willow into the lounge room. It was vaguely familiar to her. She walked 
over to the heavy drapes and opened them slightly to reveal shutters – there 
was no way any sunlight was getting into this room. She could hear thunder 
roll around outside. Suddenly the drapes were pulled out of her grasp and 
thrown open. She watched as Spike pushed the shutters back to reveal a 
number of French windows, which led out onto a porch. Beyond the porch she 
could see the ocean, angry waves crashing against the beach as lightning 
shattered the sky above. She had never seen anything so wildly beautiful in 
all her life. It was savage and uncontrollable. She jumped as the thunder 
roared once more. 

Willow wasn’t sure how long she had been watching the storm play across the 
ocean. She had been aware of Spike standing behind her for some time before 
leaving her at the doors; she could hear the sound of the shower running. 
She turned her attention back to the storm. After the flashes of lightning 
there were moments of darkness for her. The image of Oz was fading, 
softening around the edges, they had become a blur with the images of the 
stormy ocean. 

"Willow." She jumped at the sound of Spikes voice, he was standing behind 
her and had bought his arms around to trap her between him and the doors, 
his hands were pressed against the glass. "Go have a shower." 

Willow nodded and turned to move away. Spike dropped one arm to let her go. 
He listened as she padded away. He stood where she had previously been 
watching the mayhem of the storm while smoking a cigarette. As he finished 
he frowned and turned away from the windows and headed toward the silent 
bathroom. Willow had been in there for ages. 

Spike opened the door and saw Willow sitting fully dressed on the toilet, 
elbows resting on her knee’s, the palms of her hands pressed into her eyes, 
shoulders shaking as stifled sobs broke from her. Spike picked her up and 
carried her back to the sofa, holding her as she cried. He murmured no 
soothing or loving words – just told her to cry. He stoked her hair with one 
hand, the arm cradling her back. His other arm was laying across her thighs 
the hand resting against her hip. Wrapping her arms around him and burying 
her face in his neck Willow cried until she was asleep. 

*** 

The storm was building again. Lightning burnt patterns in the sky above the 
ocean. It was the thunder that woke Willow. She was still in the same 
position as she had fallen asleep. She could feel Spikes arms wrapped about 
her, but they were still. A flash of lightning caused her to lift her head 
off his shoulder. The shutters and drapes were still open and the storm was 
playing out behind the couch they were on. 

Moving slightly Willow turned to look at Spike. His eyes were shut and his 
face was blank. Hesitatingly she broke her hold on his neck and bought her 
hand to his face, her fingers tracing a path along his eyebrows, down his 
cheek, along the jaw and back up to his mouth. She ran her thumb along the 
soft contours of his mouth. Spike opened his eyes to look at her. Willows 
fingers left his mouth and traveled over his chin and neck. She leant 
forward and lowered her mouth, hovering just above his, her eyes searching 
his. Seeing no response from him she licked his lips, her tongue the only 
contact. His lips parted and Willow bought her lips against his, her tongue 
delving into his mouth, seeking his. Together their tongues played in a 
teasing dance while Willow pressed herself closer to him, her fingers still 
tracing the outline of his face. Finally Willow drew her head back and 
looked at him, her fingers running down his neck. 

"Dance with me?" she whispered. Spike rose, standing her on the carpet. It 
was then that Willow realized that he was only wearing his jeans and the red 
silk shirt, unbuttoned to reveal his pale chest. She let her eyes consume 
his body. He drew her to him and started to slowly dance, even though there 
was no music except for the sound of the storm and ocean. 

As they danced Spike let her hands go, his finding their way to her hips. 
Willow mirrored him, letting her hands sit on his flesh, just above the 
waistband of his jeans. As they kept moving Willow let her hands trace his 
body, sliding to his back, his muscle flexing as he moved. She bought one 
hand back to his stomach, then traced a path up to his chest. She could feel 
his nipples harden under her fingers as she traced circles around them. 
Leaning forward she placed a butterfly kiss on each harden bud. She 
entangled her other hand in his hair and pulled his head forward to kiss him 
again. He opened his mouth for her and she soon found his tongue. That was 
when the thought struck her. 

<He’s not doing anything to me. He’s not even kissing me back, really.> 
Willow pulled her head back. His hands were still on her hips and hadn’t 
moved the whole time. His face was devoid of any emotion. <Oh god, what am I 
doing?> She pushed herself away from him, taking a step back. 

Spike stood there, watching her. Waiting. She was pale and unsure. Suddenly 
she turned her back on him and started to move away. Spike grabbed her arm 
and spun her back to him, grabbing her hips he pulled her flush against him, 
making sure she would be able to feel his erection. She bought her hands up 
against his chest to steady herself, her eyes were wide as she looked at 
him. Lowering his head he kissed her neck. 

"It’s your choice. Dance with me Willow." He purred against her neck, his 
hands tracing her spine and coming to rest on her hips. He started the dance 
again, pulling Willow so that their legs were entwined. She was straddling 
one of his thighs. He could feel her start to move again, her hips setting 
the rhythm. Her hot breath was brushing against his chest, her fingers were 
once more tracing the muscles in his back, the heat of her searing his own 
flesh. 

Willow was confused. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. All that 
seemed to matter at the moment was this. The movement, the sensations, the 
control. She was the one in control, she was the one making the choices, and 
she wanted his shirt off. 

Willow bought her hands between them, one hand rested on his stomach above 
his jeans while the other hand stroked his growing erection. Spike leant 
into her hand and groaned against her neck. Willow smiled lightly and pulled 
her hand away bringing both of them up to his shoulders, pushing the silk 
down his arms. It fell to the floor. Tilting her head, she urged Spikes head 
away from her neck and caught his lips with her own. She felt his mouth open 
and his tongue snake along her lips. She pulled back slightly and caught his 
lower lip between hers and sucked it into her mouth so she could bite it 
before releasing it. 

Suddenly Spike dipped her back, and with his tongue traced a path from her 
navel to between her breasts, finishing with a hungry kiss. His hands had 
moved to the gauze top and as they straightened up he pulled both tops off, 
revealing her swollen breasts. He bent to kiss first one and then the other. 
His hand was splayed across her back and the other cupped her bottom, 
pressing her closer to him. 

Spike moaned again as he felt Willows tongue working on his nipple, one hand 
tracing his spine, while her other hand was rubbing his erection again. She 
was grinding herself against his thigh pushing herself back into his hand. 
He found the catch on her skirt and pulled at it. She had managed to undo 
his jeans and was now stroking his flesh, her warm fingers wrapped firmly 
around his shaft working up and down. Her lips had moved and were making 
their way up his neck toward his mouth. They were hungry and demanded 
attention. 

"Willow," he moaned against her lips before surrendering to them, their 
tongues battling each other for dominance. He grabbed her hand away from his 
now painful erection. 

Willow pulled herself away from him, her chest heaving for much needed 
breathe, her skin flushed. She looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but 
need. She slipped her hands into the back of his jeans cupping his arse and 
pulling him up against her. She broke his gaze and tugged his jeans down, 
urging him to step out of them, she kicked them aside. She could feel his 
hands pulling at her skirt, removing her knickers at the same time. She 
grabbed his hair, pulling his mouth to hers claiming it. She let her legs 
collapse beneath her, pulling them both down to the soft carpet. 

Willow pushed him back and straddled his stomach, she could feel his 
erection throbbing against her arse. She leant forward to lick the contours 
of his chest, leaving a wet trail of saliva, sitting back up she let a smile 
cross her face as she leant back down and blew on his chest. She could feel 
him wriggle beneath her, causing friction against her clit. Spike bought his 
hands up to touch her but Willow caught them and entwined her fingers with 
his, the hint of a smile still on her face. Raising herself up on her knees 
she moved backwards, until the head of his penis was directly below her. She 
slowly started to move her hips, lowering herself slightly so that she was 
rubbing herself against him, teasing herself and giving the stimulation she 
wanted. She rubbed him the full length of her slit, throwing her head back 
she abandoned herself to the sensations, her eyes partially closed as she 
moved her hips rhythmically, her breath coming faster, her need growing. 

"Willow!" Spike growled in his frustration, his hips thrusting upwards 
involuntarily. 

Willow rolled her head forward, a lascivious smile on her face. She squeezed 
his hands as she moved herself down to his legs. 

"Willow?" the questioned died on his lips as she bought one of their 
entangled hands to her mouth, sucking on two of their fingers and then 
moving them down between her legs. Spike rolled his head back and groaned. 
She was wet and he struggled to try and touch her, but her fingers were 
guiding his only letting him do what she wanted. He watched her as she moved 
on their hands. Suddenly she plunged their index fingers into herself, 
thrusting them in and out. She was leaning forward, her breath coming 
faster. Spike freed his thumb and started to work it in circles against her 
clitoris. She was close but pulled their hands away with a sharp intake of 
breath. She smiled at him as she pulled their hands up to her mouth, sucking 
her juices off their fingers. Spike let out a growl. 

Willow let his other hand go and grasped his penis, giving it a couple of 
quick strokes. Spike tried to move his hand to between her legs, but she 
grabbed it again raising it to her mouth to kiss the palm. She moved forward 
over his penis and impaled herself on him. Spike rolled his head back and 
groaned, thrusting up into her, feeling her muscles clamp around his 
throbbing shaft. She set the rhythm using deep hard thrusts. Raising herself 
up until he was in danger of slipping out and then thrusting back down, 
pressing herself hard against his flesh. Spike hips bucked against her, 
trying to bury himself even deeper. As her needs grew so did the speed of 
her actions. Spike knew she was close and he could feel his own body 
screaming for the release that he was holding back. Her whole body was 
moving with each of her thrusts, her breath quickened and a fine sheen of 
sweat covered her. She came down, thrusting hard against him, her breath was 
a sharp gasp and it seemed that every muscle in her body clenched. Her 
finger nails dug deep into Spikes hands and she bit her lip to stop herself 
crying out. 

It was the smell of the blood from her lip that broke Spike, with a growl he 
ripped his hands out of her grasp and flipped them over. His arms wrapping 
around her body brutally crushing her to him as he thrust hard and deep into 
her. Each thrust was accompanied by a guttural moan. His mouth claimed hers 
as he sucked her bleeding lip into his mouth. With the taste of the blood he 
could feel himself surge, hips roughly jerking as he came. Tearing his mouth 
away from hers, he howled her name. 

As they lay together on the floor, spent, Willow turned her head slightly to 
watch the lightning play across the sky. Her arms were still around Spike, 
drawing comforting circles on his back, her legs still entangled with his. 
Spike kept his face buried in her neck, his tongue licking the salty sweat 
from her flesh. He could feel her heartbeat lessen its frantic pace. He 
pushed himself up about to pull out of her when she turned her head to look 
at him. 

"Don’t." she whispered, tightening her legs and arms around him, pulling him 
back to her. He looked into her eyes. 

"The sun will be coming up soon pet." Spike watched her as she broke the 
gaze and turned back to the storm. It was the first sound, apart from her 
breathing, she had made since she asked him to dance. He pushed her hair 
away from her face and lowered his lips to her collarbone, covering it with 
kisses. He pulled back out of her, gathered her up into his arms and carried 
her into the bedroom. 

Part 12 

Willow was aware that she was lying on her back in soft sheets, her head 
sinking into a pillow and the sound of rain pattering on the roof. Moving 
slightly she felt her legs entangled with Spikes. His arm was slung across 
her stomach, the hand resting in the curve of her waist. Turning her head 
she met his piercing blue stare, closing her eyes against the stare she 
concentrated on the sound of the rain. 

She felt weird. Her body was languid and heavy, but she felt more satisfied 
than she ever had. As the memories of the evening events came flooding back 
to her – Oz, the Club, dancing, the storm and Spike – she felt her body 
respond, demanding more. Was it just her body that wanted more? She didn’t 
know. 

Fleeting images flashed through her mind, Angel warning her not to be 
fooled, Oz’s betrayal, Spike telling her it was her choice. But had she 
chosen? Was she in control? Memories of them together flashed through her 
mind. Spike had been subservient to her every whim, even though physically 
he was far stronger, he had given her complete control. She had made him 
growl. She had made him beg, in a way. She had used him for her own sexual 
gratification. Idly she wondered if she could do it again. There was one way 
to find out. 

Willows hand wandered down to Spikes arm, her fingertips running across it. 
His hand twitched. Turning on her side she faced him, opening her eyes to 
look at him, her hand continued tracing a path along his arm and up to his 
shoulder. His eyes were darkening, but that was the only response she was 
getting from him. Or so she thought, until she shifted bringing her leg up 
over his hip, pushing her stomach against him. There was no mistaking the 
growing erection that was rubbing against her. She smiled to herself before 
claiming his lips for her own, pulling his head to her. She wrapped her foot 
around his calf, urging his leg forward between hers. She tore her mouth 
away and gasped as she felt his knee rub up against her. His eyes burned 
into hers, urging her to go on. 

Willow bought her hand around to his back, indulging in the feel of his 
muscles flexing beneath it. Trying to move down lower she was encumbered by 
the sheet snagging. Frustrated she grabbed the edge and threw it off them. 
The force of her action caused her to move hard against Spikes knee making 
her shudder. She pushed her whole body forward against him, reveling in the 
feel of their skin pressing together, hot against cold. She bought her mouth 
down to his chest, delicately laving the area, stopping at each nipple to 
bite and suck. She could hear Spike moan softly at her ministrations. 
Breaking away she fastened her lips hungrily against his, tongue delving 
into his mouth, demanding a response. He didn’t disappoint. She lost herself 
for a moment in the play of their tongues, the taste of him, the coolness of 
his mouth. Her hands were busy, one tangled in his short hair holding him to 
her, the thumb stroking his cheek, the other working on his back her nails 
dragging down his spine. As she found the small of his back she pressed her 
nails in hard, causing him to jerk forward, his knee creating an almost 
painful friction against her clit. She felt his hand against her breast; his 
thumb tracing circles on her erect nipple as the other fingers traced the 
swollen flesh. Pulling away from his mouth she arched her back pushing 
herself into him. Gasping she felt his lips replace his thumb. Bringing her 
hands down between them she massaged his erection while rubbing herself hard 
against his knee, keeping time with her strokes. 

"Willow," he moaned against her breast. He was moving his knee against her, 
pushing hard as she ground against him. Her fingers slipped from his shaft, 
causing him to growl in protest, until he felt the fingers entangle in his 
hair again and her lips claim his. 

Willow moved her hands to Spikes shoulders, pulling herself up while pushing 
him onto his back. Once more she was straddling him, in control. Trapping 
his hips between her knees she lowered herself onto his erection, her head 
rolling back as she felt him penetrate. Suddenly she felt Spikes hands grab 
her hips, trying to pull her down flush against him. Grabbing his hands she 
pulled them away, Spike growled his protest but nonetheless let her. 

Holding his gaze she began to build a rhythm, rotating her hips with every 
thrust. Smiling, she watched as he clenched and unclenched his jaw with 
every thrust. She ran her hands along his chest, playing with his nipples 
making them even harder. His hands lay on top of hers, moving with them. 
Rolling his head back he moaned his frustration at not being allowed to 
touch her. Reaching out to his shoulders she urged him to sit up. Bringing 
her lips down hard on his, her tongue demanded entrance, imitating the 
movements of her thrusting hips. She could feel Spikes moan vibrate through 
her mouth, felt his arms wrap around her back, hands resting on her 
shoulders. Tearing her mouth from his she pulled his head back, bearing his 
neck so she could trace the muscles with her tongue. A moan rumbled from him 
as his body started to tense. With her free hand she reached around and 
grabbed his scrotum, pulling the tense sack gently. 

"Willow," he shouted as he thrust hard into her. His hands digging into her 
shoulders, dragging her down into his thrust. He felt her teeth against his 
Adam’s apple, harshly biting him. He could feel her working herself against 
his thrusts, grinding against him. Her arms were mirroring his, her hands 
resting on his shoulders. She leant forward and claimed his lips brutally 
demanding his attention. 

As her nails dug sharply into his shoulders, he felt her body become taut 
and still, her muscles clamping down on him, urging him to follow. Again her 
bottom lip was held between her teeth, her orgasm reached in silence. Spike 
bought her down hard against his thrusts, claiming her mouth letting her 
name be smothered by their mouths as exploded inside her in his own climax. 
He remained still, holding her trembling body, leaning his head down to rest 
on her breast, listening to her frantic heartbeat and gasping breaths. He 
felt her head tumble on to his, her hot breath rushing across his neck, 
almost burning. Spike waited, listening as Willows heartbeat slowed and she 
regained her breath. He could feel her warm fingers against his back, 
lightly tracing his spine. 

Willow lifted her head, wondering what time it was. Glancing out the door of 
the bedroom she could see a grayish light creeping down the hallway. 

"The shutters." She murmured. She felt Spike raise his head, his hands 
dropping from her shoulders to the small of her back, his fingers brushing 
against her warm flesh making her arch into him. She was spent. Holding her 
head up was too hard so she let it drop against Spikes shoulder. Suddenly 
she was falling and opened her eyes to actualize that Spike was merely lying 
back down, pulling her with him. Closing her eyes she reveled in the feel of 
Spike and rhythmic sound of the still falling rain. 

"What was that pet?" Spike asked. He received no answer, only the soft sound 
of Willow breathing and the patter of the rain. 

*** 

The rain was still falling when Willow woke. The sheet lay crumpled at the 
end of the bed and Spike was partially covering her body with his. Willow 
was on her back with Spike on his stomach, his shoulder covering hers, an 
arm resting just under her breasts and a leg thrown across her. 

<Uh oh. I want to get up. Can I do this without waking him?> Slowly she 
began inching away, carefully watching him for any sign of movement. She was 
watching him so closely she fell off the bed, landing on the floor with a 
thud. Sitting up quickly she fully expected to have woken him. But he was 
still looking dead. <Okay, that’s good.> 

Pushing herself off the floor Willow tiptoed out the door and into the 
lounge room without glancing back. 

Spike waited until she was out of the room, then opened his eyes and 
listened to her movements. 

*** 

The first thing Willow noticed was the dark overcast sky outside and the 
rain sheeting down. Glancing about she saw the scattered clothing, it made 
the whole room look like a mess. She looked at her skirt and tops, not 
really wanting to wear them again but feeling the need to cover her nudity. 
As she made her way across to them her eye was caught by Spikes silk shirt, 
without hesitating she picked it up and buttoned herself into it. It was too 
big but served its purpose. Picking up the rest of the scattered clothes she 
laid them on one of the sofas. She sat down on the sofa that they had been 
on last night and instantly regretted it. Jumping up as the memory hit her 
she moved to another one. 

<What have I done?> She thought quietly to herself. She’d had sex with 
Spike, a vampire. Well Oz was a werewolf. Okay so he was only a werewolf for 
three nights a month, 36 hours. Whereas Spike was a blood sucking homicidal 
maniac 24 hours a day. <Oh shit.> 

She was flustered and disconcerted - she didn’t know what to do. The more 
she thought about her actions for the past few weeks the more panicked she 
felt. She could barely breathe, she felt like her chest was being crushed. 
Glancing around the room she felt trapped. Better here then at…Sunnydale? 
Sunnydale! Giles, Buffy and Angel. Her mind went back to the fight with 
Angel, Angel screaming that Spike was a demon and she wasn't to be fooled by 
him. Oh God, she couldn’t go back there. Not yet anyway, not until she had 
thought about it. The logical part of her brain kicked through the 
panicking. <It’s not your fault, you were distraught, but he did give you a 
choice, you could have stopped>. But then did she want to stop? 

She got up and paced. Her mind scattered. She knew two things at this point 
in time, she didn’t want to be in this house and she certainly didn’t want 
to go back to Sunnydale. Walking over to the doors she leant against them to 
watch the rain. She wanted to be somewhere where no one knew her, where 
nothing reminded her of home and friends. Somewhere different, where she 
could do what ever she wanted without being judged. Rolling her head against 
the glass she closed her eyes and silently wished she could be on the other 
side of the country. 

Her eyes flew open. What was stopping her? Money? There were ways around 
that, she knew both her parents company credit card numbers, it would be 
easy enough to book a flight over the phone – the same with a hotel room if 
she wanted. She stared out of the windows – did she want to? It was her 
choice. Fine she could do that, but where would she go? New York? Her father 
was there on business, knowing her luck she’d run into him. She wanted to go 
somewhere totally different to LA and Sunnydale. Somewhere carefree. Turning 
away from the windows she scanned the room for a phone. There was a cordless 
sitting on the entertainment unit. Picking it up she dialed information and 
was put through to the booking office at the airport. 

"Hello? Yes, I’d like to book a flight to New Orleans for this 
afternoon…Three-thirty? That would be fine. How many? Make it…make it for 
two and no window seats…I’ll be charging them…Yes we’ll pick them up from 
the desk." she gave the details of her fathers company credit card and rang 
off. Shaking she put the phone down and took a deep breath. She looked out 
to the rain, sick of it she got up and closed the shutters and pulled the 
drapes, plunging the room into semi darkness. 

Picking up the phone she called information again. This time she was put 
through to a hotel in New Orleans, engaging a room, explaining that the 
people staying were guest of the company and that all expenses should be 
charged to the credit card details. The receptionist happily bought the 
story and said that would be no problem. 

She winced at the thought of the next few calls to be made. If she just 
disappeared from Sunnydale for a few days with no explanation she would 
never hear the end of it and there would be too many questions when she got 
back. Three people needed to be told, Giles, Buffy and…Oz. The first call 
was to the library, the answering machine, she left a brief message. Knowing 
that Oz was still in LA (what she didn’t know was that he was in hospital, 
whacked out on painkillers, happily babbling about being assulted by a 
vampire – the staff putting it down to the drugs), she left a message the 
same as the library. Buffy would be the hardest. She knew she had no hope in 
getting a machine and was relieved when Mrs Summers answered. 

"Oh Willow, you just missed her. Can I take a message?" 

"Um, yes. I was just calling to let her know I’ll be gone for a couple of 
days. I’m going up to New York to spend some time with Dad…" Mrs Summers cut 
her off, saying how wonderful it was that her parents traveled so much, how 
lucky she was to be visiting and that she would be sure to pass on the 
message. "Okay, thanks." 

Willow rang off and dropped the phone next to her on the sofa and fixed her 
eyes on the carpet. Two very pale feet came into view. She glanced up to see 
Spike standing above her, a pair of jeans casually hanging low on his hips. 
His eyes burning into hers, his face expressionless. 

"What are you doing?" he growled. 

"I’m going to New Orleans…want to come?" she asked. She had meant for her 
voice to convey some confidence, but it came out little more than a whisper. 
Watching him, she could read no expression in his face. Suddenly he lunged 
forward his hands grabbing the back of the sofa, trapping her between his 
arms, his face hovering above hers. 

"New Orleans? That’d be…neat." 
  
  

Part 13 

Willow sat in her plane seat, wondering what she had done. She was dressed 
in her red outfit, having no other clothes to change into, sitting next to 
Spike. On her way to New Orleans. Interesting. Insane, probably. Spikes 
answer to her invitation was unusual. He hadn’t been eager, over the top or 
blissfully happy, he had basically snarled at her before searching his 
discarded jeans for cigarettes. That was when Willow started to dread her 
actions, beginning to babble and pace. Telling him that she had organized a 
car from the airport to pick them up, tinted windows but she didn’t think he 
’d have to worry because it was so overcast, and that when they got to New 
Orleans it would be after sunset. He had cut through her babbling with a 
comment. 

"Fine pet. The car will be here soon; it’s later than you think. Go have a 
shower." Spike stood in front of her, to stop the pacing, while smoking a 
cigarette. 

So she had and three hours later here she was. In the plane. With Spike. 
Going to New Orleans. With a throbbing headache and feeling cold. What was 
it about airplanes? They were either too hot or too cold and this one was 
definitely too cold. She shut her eyes and wondered if it was all a bad 
dream. Opening them, she realized it wasn’t. Sighing she hit the button to 
call a stewardess and asked if they had any aspirin. She was presented with 
two travel sickness pills and told they would help the headache. They put 
her to sleep. 

"Willow," she felt warm, but uncomfortable. Something was digging into her 
hip and waist. Opening her eyes she saw black leather, a hint of red silk 
was in the corner of the black. Sitting up she realized it was Spikes duster 
covering her, her head had been resting on his shoulder and it was the arm 
of her seat that had been digging into her. Glancing around she saw the 
other passengers getting up, collecting their hand luggage and heading out 
the door, the stewardess could be heard farewelling them. "Are we just going 
to sit on the plane, pet?" 

"What? No, no. Of course not." She shrugged the duster off and tried to 
stand up, forgetting about her seat belt. Muttering she undid it. "Unless of 
course the plane doesn’t let me off!" 

They made their way through the airport and getting a cab to the hotel was 
easy enough. As they drove through the city Willow watched the people, being 
Saturday night it was already quite busy. The cab pulled up in front of the 
Bourbon Orleans Hotel, a grand looking building located in that infamous 
good time area of the French Quarter. 

"Wow." Willow managed to say, staring up at the building. She felt Spike 
guiding her elbow, leading her into the reception area. All Willow had to do 
was sign for the room. A quick story that their luggage had been lost by the 
airline was accepted and a suggestion was made for them to make use of the 
facilities offered by the hotel, a number of small boutique shops were 
housed there. After a few moments of introduction to both the hotel and the 
city, cut short by a sanguinary look from Spike, they were ushered up to 
their room. 

It was situated on the corner of the hotel and was quite a large room. It 
had white walls, thick white carpet and period furniture, all to suit the 
tone of the hotel. There were French windows that led out to a large 
overhung balcony. The balcony in addition to the thick drapes, which were 
pulled to the side of the doors, would ensure that direct sunlight would 
never enter the room while they were guests – something Willow had been very 
specific about in her booking. Leading off the room was a large bathroom, 
the focal point being huge raised bath with steps climbing up to it. 

"Wow," stated Willow spying the bathtub. 

"If there’s anything else you require simply dial zero and you’ll be put 
through to reception." The porter said, standing at the door. 

"Yeah. Thanks mate." Spike walked over to the bed and sat down bouncing on 
it. Luckily he missed the porter rolling his eyes in disgust at not getting 
a tip – otherwise Spike probably would have ripped his throat out. "Well, 
pet. What now?" 

She looked at him bouncing on the bed; all sorts of lascivious thoughts ran 
through her mind. Shaking her head she considered the question. She was in 
New Orleans – party capital of the world on a Saturday night. There was no 
way she was going to spend it in her hotel room. 

"I’m going to get a change of clothes and then go out." She said simply, 
glancing at him lying spread eagle on the bed. Then her stomach rumbled. 
"Maybe I should get something to eat first?" 

"Order something from room service, get your clothes and by the time you 
come back up they’ll be knocking on the door with the food. Then we can go 
out." Spike stared at the ceiling. Willow agreed and ordered something from 
the hotel kitchen, being told it we would be taken up in an hour. She 
wandered over to the door only to have Spike follow her. 

"I’ll be back in an hour." She frowned at him. "You’re not the only one who 
needs to eat, pet." 

Willow closed her eyes against the thought and walked out the door. They 
parted at reception, Spike heading out the door and Willow heading to the 
hotel shops. 

*** 

When Spike got back to the room Willow had eaten, was dressed and ready to 
go out. 

"Well, pet. You are going to be the talk of the town!" Spike took her hand 
holding it out to look her up and down. She had chosen a beautiful deep 
green skirt and a corset like top in the same color that had two tiny 
shoestring shoulder straps pretending to hold it up. The top was so form 
fitting that every time she breathed her breasts would rise and fall, it was 
enthralling. "Shall we go?" 

They went from one club to another. At first hitting the tourist spots along 
Bourbon Street and then going deeper into the smaller lesser known clubs of 
the French Quarter. That’s where Willow fell in love – with an angels voice. 
They had gone into a small club that was hidden away from the tourists, with 
a dance floor and live music. The band playing was unusual in that their 
style wasn’t recognizable, neither blues nor jazz, pop or grunge it seemed 
they took aspects from all varieties of music and successfully combined it. 
Sweet and seductive, forceful and dark, melodies sung by an angelic voice, 
but the lyrics themselves were dark and audacious. It seemed to match 
Willows mood. It was the voice of the singer that enchanted her, she told 
Spike as they danced that his voice was sending chills down her spine. But 
she also reasoned that it could have been the strings that appealed to her, 
she didn’t know but she loved it and would have been quite happy to stay 
there forever. Spike finally pulled her away at 3.30 in the morning to head 
back to the hotel. 

They were walking along the streets, Willow happily wrapped in Spikes arms 
as they wandered, on their way back to the hotel. Compared to LA or 
Sunnydale New Orleans was alive. There were street performers in ragged 
costumes eating fire, creating illusions, doing magic tricks and juggling. 
Other revelers were spilling onto the streets, drunken tourists taking in 
the sights, locals happily seducing them with the promises held in the city 
and the street performers doing their tricks for the money thrown. 

Willow stopped walking and watched in amazement as a muscular half-naked 
performer tilted his head back and plunged a flaming baton down his throat, 
swallowing to extinguish the flame. 

"How do they do that?" Willow asked, hypnotized as he repeated the act and 
then ran the flaming batons over his body. 

"You can play with fire love. It all depends on the igniter fluids and 
skill." Spike rested his chin on her shoulder, watching the ingenue who so 
intrigued her. "Haven’t you ever run your fingers through a candle flame?" 

"Yes, but that’s different." She leant back against him, watching as the 
performer juggled the lit batons, letting them fall around his body, the 
flames casting distorted shadows over him. Spikes hands moved on her 
stomach, tracing circles, running across her navel. His moist lips pressed 
into her neck and left a trail of kisses down to her shoulder. His eyes 
mesmerized by the rise and fall of her chest, the pale roundness of her 
breast moving against the dark green of the dress. Moving a hand up her 
stomach, his thumb gently stroked the bottom of her breast. 

"It’s still fire, it can still burn, it still carries a danger. The trick is 
how it’s handled – watch him Willow." He murmured into her ear, sucking on 
the lobe, running his tongue along it. Spike left one hand pressing just 
below her breast, the other he bought behind her to the hem of the skirt. 
Mouthing her neck, he pushed his hand under the skirt, his fingers stroking 
against the side of her inner thigh. A smile crossed his face as he felt her 
flesh tremor. "Watch how he plays with the fire." 

<He wouldn’t do this, not here, not in a public place!> Willows thoughts ran 
wild as she felt Spikes hand against her thigh. She swallowed as she tried 
to focus on the fire-eater. <Oh god, he is!> 

Spike waited until she turned her attention back to the performer, then 
moved his hand further up her legs, his fingers brushing against the silk of 
her knickers. The reaction was immediate; she tensed up and bought her 
thighs together, clamping down on his hand. Catching her ear lobe he scraped 
his teeth over it before dropping his lips to her neck. He could feel her 
heartbeat start to increase under his hand. With his thumb he teased her 
hardening nipple through the material. Twisting his hand between her legs, 
he forced her thighs apart, freeing his fingers. 

"Watch him play, Willow." He whispered against her ear. Rubbing his fingers 
against the silk of her knickers he watched the street artist over her 
shoulder, covering it with kisses. Smiling he felt her wriggle against him 
slightly. Slipping them under the silk he met her hot wet lips, parting them 
his thumb found her clit, starting a slow and steady rhythm. He could feel 
her juices start to flow, drenching his fingers as he traced a path along 
her slit. Smiling he delved two fingers into her, muscles immediately 
grasping against them, causing him to moan against her shoulder. His mouth 
continued its assault, while his fingers deftly thrust into her keeping pace 
with his thumb. 

Willows hand covered his on her stomach, her fingers gripping him. Biting 
her lip she felt her muscles spasm around his fingers, her thighs clamping 
down on his hand as the rest of her body soon followed in a series of 
blissful explosions. If he hadn’t been holding her she would have collapsed. 
Gasping for breath Willow tried to regain some composure. Thankfully the 
rest of the revelers were still focused on the entertainers so no one had 
paid any attention to them. Her relief at this turned to foreboding as she 
felt Spike pulling her backwards, still pinned by his arm she had little 
choice but to follow. Suddenly he spun them around so they were facing an 
alley, Spikes hand in her back urged her forward into the shadows. Pushing 
her up against the wall, his lips crashed down on hers, his tongue forcing 
its way into her mouth. Breaking the savage kiss Willow turned her head, the 
festivities in the street were barely meters away. 

Spike had dropped his lips to her collarbone, his hand was under her skirt, 
fingers wrapped around the soft silk of the knickers. With a growl he ripped 
them from her, he could hear her gasp at the pain of the silk breaking 
against her flesh. Bringing the tattered material up to his mouth his licked 
at the moisture then threw them away. Claiming her mouth again, his tongue 
demanding a response, he roughly pulled her skirt up. Willow tried to stop 
his hands, only to have him break the kiss and growl, his eyes piercing 
hers. For a moment she hesitated, then she pulled at the button and zip on 
his jeans, freeing his erection and leant in to kiss him. He grabbed her 
hands and pulled them up to his chest. Willow turned her head look back at 
the activities still going on out in the street. 

Spike used his hands to spread her legs, a thumb brushing against her clit 
making her shudder. From the corner of her eye she saw him dip down and 
could feel the head of his penis rubbing along her, slipping against her 
wetness, she grabbed at his shirt. Digging his fingers into her he thrust 
up, sheathing himself in her burning channel. Pulling her legs around his 
waist he continued to thrust hard into her, a grunt accompanying each 
thrust. 

"Willow," he growled, causing her to turn back to him. He claimed her mouth 
for his own his thrusts getting more frantic as he felt her tongue dance 
with his. Letting go of her legs as he felt them clamp around his waist, 
pulling him deeper with every thrust, his arm encircled the small of her 
back to support her while the other arm rested on the wall next to her head. 
Pulling away from the kiss he caught her gaze and watched her. He saw the 
muscles clench in her jaw as her other muscles clamped around him. He 
watched her eyes widen, the pupils dilate, as she pushed her shoulders hard 
against the wall, forcing her hips to slam into his, her legs gripping his 
waist. Spike smirked and slammed into her even harder. Capturing her mouth 
he buried his howl in its depths as he came, shooting his seed deep inside 
her. 

Dropping his mouth to the top of her breasts he licked the salty sweat that 
had formed. He could feel her trembling against him and smiled. 

"We should get back to the hotel, pet." Spike murmured against her breast. 
He could feel her nod as she dropped her legs from his waist and unfurled 
her fingers from his shirt. He pushed himself away, letting her smooth down 
her skirt and hair, while he did his jeans up. He watched her for a moment 
and then led her away from the alley. 

Willow could feel their secretions mix with the sweat on her thighs. Part of 
her was exhilarated, another part was disgusted, but for the most part she 
was confused. As he led her through the dying crowds of the night and back 
to the hotel he kept a firm hold on her hand using it to pull her to him as 
they entered the lift. Pushing back her hair he leant down to kiss her lips, 
softly caressing them with his tongue, gently seeking entrance to her mouth. 
Willow bought her free hand up to his neck as she opened her mouth to him. 
He guided her other hand to his groin and released it. Without breaking the 
kiss she worked on him, her fingers stroking him through the denim of his 
jeans, feeling his erection grow hard under her ministrations. He was 
pushing against her hand, moaning lightly into her mouth causing his lips to 
vibrate against hers. 

Leaving the elevator they staggered along the hallway, Spike content to be 
devouring Willows neck while she pressed her buttocks back against his 
erection. As they entered the room Willow looked toward the bathroom with 
longing. 

"I need to have a shower." She tried to untangle herself from Spikes arms 
unsuccessfully. 

"You can have one later," he walked her toward the bed, his fingers deftly 
working on the laces at the back of her top. Pulling the top aside he turned 
her around to face him and dropping his head to suckle each breast while he 
removed her skirt. Willows hands found his shoulders, desperately pulling at 
him to take of his clothes. Straightening up he helped her shrug off his 
clothes until they lay in an abandoned mess with hers. Spike kissed her, his 
lips and tongue teasing a response from her until she felt a hunger and need 
for the taste of his mouth, her fingers entwining in his hair trying to pull 
him closer to her. He broke away from the kiss and turned Willow to face the 
bed, urging her to crawl onto it. Kneeling on the bed Willow shivered as 
Spike ran his hand along her backbone, she could feel his erection throbbing 
against her buttocks. He leant over to place a single kiss in the small of 
her back as he penetrated her. Moving together, one hand snaked around to 
caress her breast while his other was stroking her back in time to their 
thrusts. Willow was moving hard against him, indulging in the sensations of 
their actions. Spike began to tease her with his tongue and lips caressing 
her back and neck. Suddenly he lifted up off her, his hands gripped her hips 
and he pulled back until just the tip of his penis remained in her. 

Willow gasped for breath and tried to thrust back against him, but he nearly 
crushed her pelvis beneath his fingers. Uncertain Willow entangled her 
fingers in the sheet, her whole body trembling in yearning almost screaming 
for ascendancy. She could feel tears of frustration burning at the back of 
her eyes. Again she tried to move against him and met with the same result, 
Spikes fingers crushing down on her, stilling her movements. The tears 
started to fall, she lowered her head in bewilderment. Spike thrust forward 
in one long hard stroke, his testicles slapping against her clit, covering 
her back with his body and driving them both forward. Such was the force of 
the movement that Willow let out a low moan her hands twisting painfully in 
the sheets. Slowly he pulled back out of her, groaning at the feel of her 
muscles desperately clamping down on him, trying to keep him in her. As she 
flung her head up he stopped all movement. She wanted to scream her 
frustration. She waited with no response. Dropping her head she was rewarded 
with Spike repeating the hard deep thrust. This time her moan erupted from 
her, louder than before. Spike repeated the action faster, resulting in 
another groan from Willow. Her body was trembling, sweat building on her 
skin. He began to move faster, inducing a serious of guttural moans to 
escape from Willow. Spike pulled her back up against him, holding her steady 
as he thrust into her, his mouth suckling her neck, while his thumb worked 
ruthlessly against her clit, pushing her into a ravenous orgasm. Her whole 
body convulsed, her head flung back against his shoulder as she screamed his 
name, her fingernails tearing at his flesh. 

Spike let them both fall forward onto the bed, Willow gasping for breath 
beneath him. She felt him withdraw from her and move away. Closing her eyes 
she tried to gain some control over her body, still shaking from the 
intensity of her climax. Spike grabbed her ankles twisting her onto her back 
and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He leaned over her, smirking, before 
kissing her mouth savagely and then letting his lips move down her body. His 
tongue teased her nipples before taking them between his teeth nipping them 
lightly, causing her to arch up into his mouth, soft moans tumbling from her 
mouth, her hands blindly caressing his neck and shoulders. Reaching her 
navel he swirled his tongue around it before sucking against it for a moment 
and moving down. Lifting her legs he casually swung them over his shoulders 
before slipping between them. 

As Willow felt Spikes cool tongue graze her throbbing clit she bucked 
against him, rolling her head back an arduous cry left her lips. She spread 
her arms out wide her fingers blindly grasping for the sheets. As he 
continued his ministrations Willow began to moan low in her throat, his 
tongue against her swollen and sensitive clit was causing her exquisite 
pain. Tormenting her toward another orgasm. She could hear a low growling 
noise coming from him. Giving into the sensations he was creating Willow 
felt herself fall into her climax, her back arched thrusting her hips into 
his face while her knees clenched his shoulders. A long painful wail left 
her lips. 

Before the cry had even died on her lips Spike was thrusting into her. He 
grabbed her shoulders and roughly pulled her up against his chest. Claiming 
her lips for his own, his tongue imitating his movements. As he thrust 
harder into her Willow could feel the tension between her legs building 
again, she wrapped her arms around his back brining her hands to rest on his 
shoulders while her legs found their way around his waist, urging him on. 
She started to play with his tongue. As his fingers reached down between 
them and touched her inflame clit she ripped her mouth away to scream his 
name, her fingers drawing blood against his shoulders. It was enough for 
Spike to come, jerking roughly into her as he roared her name. Collapsing 
back on the bed together exhausted and satisfied. He held her for a few 
moments, running his fingers through her hair, before untangling himself 
from her and walking into the bathroom. 

Willow was vaguely conscious of the bath being run. Her body was exhausted 
and aching. It hurt just to even think about moving her thighs. But 
somewhere in the dark recesses of her subconscious she wanted water, food 
and a few hours sleep so she could do it all again. <Bad thoughts, very bad 
thoughts!> 

She was nearly asleep when she felt Spike pick her up from the bed and carry 
her to the bath which was filled with hot soapy water. Holding her he 
stepped into the water, bringing her down between his legs, resting her back 
against his chest. Willow relaxed into the hot water and his embrace as he 
snaked his arm under hers, lifting it up to wash it with a sponge. 

"Willow?" he said softly into her ear. 

"Mmm?" she rolled her head against his chest, delighting in the feel of the 
water against her aching body. 

"I like your voice." he changed arms, letting the sponge run down her arm 
and across her collarbone. "I like the way you groan, the way you sound. I 
don’t want you biting your lip anymore – one day you’ll bite the bloody 
thing off." 

He felt her tense against him. He continued to caress her body with the 
sponge, brushing it across her thighs causing her to whimper. 

"Hurts?" he asked, she nodded. "All you had to do was ask me to stop." 

"I wouldn’t have been able to stop you." 

"Did you want me to?" he whispered against her ear. She considered the 
question before answering. 

"No." she barely whispered her response. 

"It was your choice Willow." Spike spoke softly as he let water from the 
sponge run over her head. Willow could feel her body shutting down, 
demanding rest. Her head lolled back against his shoulder, her eyes 
fluttering close. 

Part 14 

It was the muted sound of cars and people in the street that woke Willow. 
There was no confusion as to where she was, or whom she was with, her mind 
seemed crystal clear. She was comfortably wrapped in Spikes arms, his cool 
body a welcome relief to the already increasing heat of New Orleans. 
Dubiously she moved against his embrace, testing her limbs for aches, and 
caused him to growl. 

"Spike...I need to get up - you have to let me go!" his hold remained firm 
against her, sighing Willow blushed red at the thought of the words she 
needed to say.  "I have to go to the bathroom." 

Willow heard a muted laugh as he released her.  Rolling off the bed she 
headed to the bathroom, hearing Spike moving around on the bed.  Closing the 
door she walked across to the vanity and looked at herself in the mirror. 
Her face was flushed and her hair was tousled - if that was the word to 
describe the mess!  Light bruises were littered across her collarbone and, 
turning around, on her shoulder from Spikes nibbling.  His finger marks 
blazed across her hips, a cruel keepsake of a lesson he wanted her to 
remember.  Sighing, she did what she needed to, then dragged a brush through 
the knots in her hair and splashed some cool water on her face. 

Wandering back from the bathroom Willow took in the sight of Spike, sprawled 
on his stomach spread eagle across the bed.  <Vampires shouldn't have white 
sheets - they just disappear.  He looks like one of those marble statues, 
all hard and smooth.  Cool, always so cool to touch.>  To reinforce that 
thought, she sat down and ran her fingertips up his spine.  <Cool and 
smooth.>  Leaning across him she let her tongue follow the path her 
fingertips had traced, continuing on to the curve of his ear.  Smiling she 
heard a small moan rumble in his throat.  She traced the shape of his mouth 
first with her fingers and then her tongue, finally pressing her lips to 
his, teasing them open and enticing his tongue to dance with hers.  Pulling 
back she looked into his now open eyes, licking her lips thoughtfully. 

"Cool, soft and sweet..." Willow spoke quietly, giving him a shadow of a 
smile.  Spike smirked back at her. 

"Probably you, from our earlier activities pet." He laughed as she rolled 
her eyes at him and moved off the bed.  Spike caught her hand, bought it to 
his mouth and kissed the palm.  "Come back to bed Willow." 

Spike let her hand slip from his, pulling on her pinky, urging her to 
return.  Frowning lightly, Willow sat back down, leaning her head and 
shoulders against the headboard.  Spikes arms wrapped around her again and 
he laid his head below her breast, listening to the rhythmic beating of her 
heart.  Willow found her hands straying to him, one stroking his hair while 
the other traced patterns across his shoulders. 

Willow smiled to herself.  Here she was in New Orleans, calmly caressing 
Spike, while she was naked, after spending a night dancing and...and...and 
what?  Making love?  No, it couldn't be called that.  Having sex?  Sex, it 
seemed more than sex to her.  Closing her eyes, she could feel tears of 
confusion prick against the lids.  <What am I doing?  I shouldn't be here - 
I should be at home.  Doing what?  Helping Buffy and Giles research answers 
to a problem that's never ending.  Or even better, listen to Oz...> 

She felt her chest constrict at the thought of Oz.  The thoughts died off as 
Spike moved his head slightly, rubbing his cheek against her stomach. 
Glancing down at him, she wondered when she had stopped fearing him so much. 
The fear was still present, but not as much as there had been.  Around him 
she could be true to herself, he appeared to have no pre-conceived notions 
about her.  He didn't expect anything of her - it was like she was free. 
The rational part of her mind screamed about the insanity of her situation, 
but part of her was saying to enjoy this, the attention and the freedom. 
Physically she was satisfied, more so than she had ever been with Oz.  Oz 
was sweet and tender, and the sex, although fulfilling, was nowhere near the 
way she felt with Spike.  Oz was toe curling, Spike was earth shattering! 
But there again was confusion - one moment Spike was gentle, tender and 
submissive, then the next he was brutal, animalistic and dominating. 
Willows head throbbed as she tried to sort through her feelings, her 
confusion, and her misgivings. 

"You must be hungry pet." Stated Spike, his fingers tracing the bruises he'd 
left on her.  "Order something from room service." 

Willow didn't move or answer, still lost in thought.  Sitting up Spike 
reached over to the phone and dialing room service ordered a fruit platter 
with yogurt.  Hanging up he looked down at Willow, and ran his fingers 
across the light bruise on her collarbone.  She looked up at him, smiling 
softly and pulled his head down to kiss him. 

"Willow, breakfast will be here soon." Spike broke the kiss, his lips 
hovering just above hers.  She looked into his eyes, narrowing her own. 

"Yours or mine?" she asked suspiciously.  Spike laughed as he rolled onto 
his back.  Willow leant on an elbow to look at him and smiled to herself as 
his body started responding to her stare.  Stretching out an arm her fingers 
moved along his chest, marveling at how hard his nipples were.  Scooting 
closer her tongue found one of the hard tips and circled it, her lips 
sucking gently against his skin.  Biting it on release she kissed her way 
back up to his mouth, savoring his sweet taste.  She could feel his fingers 
entangle in her hair, holding her to him, causing her to smile.  His free 
hand moved down her back and on reaching her thigh, urged it over him. 
Breaking the kiss Willow pulled back to look at Spike, she rubbed her thigh 
against his growing erection and could feel his hand creeping back up her 
leg, he was smiling lasciviously.  Dipping her head back down she caught his 
lips again, tormenting his tongue, as his fingers found her clitoris and 
mimicked the movements of their tongues. Spike caught her bottom lip between 
his as she pushed herself away from him, her hand gripping his bicep, as she 
moved instinctively against his fingers her breath become shallow gasps. 
Willow looked down at Spike, her eyes wide, smiling he shifted to nuzzle her 
neck and ear as his fingers ruthlessly pushed her into a climax.  Throwing 
her head back Willow let a small cry escape from her lips as she felt 
herself surge, her fingers biting into the flesh of Spikes arm. 

Sitting up Willow straddled his hips, moaning as she felt the tip of his 
penis rub against her.  Brushing her feet against his legs, she leant down 
and kissed him roughly, aware that his hand was between her legs guiding his 
penis into her as he thrust up.  Tearing her lips away from his, she used 
her hands on his shoulders as leverage to push back against his thrust.  As 
they developed a steady rhythm of thrusts and rotations Willow held his 
hands and bought them up to rest against his head, leaning forward at the 
same time to kiss him.  She could feel herself drowning in that kiss when 
Spike suddenly yanked their hands up against the headboard and pushed 
against it moving them down the bed.  Their hands still entwined remained at 
the headboard, forcing Willow to stretch along him.  Lowering his head he 
licked her nipples, biting them, teasing with his tongue.  He growled 
against her flesh, causing her to shudder and moan. 

Willow began to thrust hard, grinding roughly against him, pulling her hands 
from his grasp she pushed against his shoulders, her whole body starting to 
tense.  Spike cupped her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. 
Holding his gaze Willow felt her muscles spasm and cried out his name as her 
body trembled as waves of pleasure continued to erupt.  Spike dragged her 
down to kiss her hungrily, flipping them over so he could thrust deeply into 
her, her muscles tightly grasping and pulling him in.  Breaking the kiss he 
watched her, his hands tangled in her hair. Loosing himself in her green 
eyes he roared her name as he came.  Collapsing Spike untangled his hands 
from her hair, brushing it gently away from her face and placed a soft kiss 
on her temple.  He could feel her labored breathing and eased himself off, 
pulling her with him as he rolled onto his side.  She was still trembling as 
he wrapped her securely to him. 

Spike growled five minutes later when a knocking at the door forced him to 
untangle himself from Willow.  Pulling the abandoned sheet up over Willow he 
picked up his jeans from the floor and put them on.  Opening the door he 
took the platter from the attendant and sent him hurrying away.  Willow sat 
up in the bed, pulling the sheet around her. 

"What's that?" she asked as Spike walked toward the bed with the platter. 

"Your breakfast pet." 

"Oh, I was going to get something when I went out." She blurted out. 

"You're going out?"  Spike asked quietly. 

"Well, I need to get some clothes and I want to have a look around." She 
said hesitatingly, unsure of what he expected.  The food started to look 
like a wonderful diversion.  Picking up a strawberry she dipped it into the 
yogurt. 

"Do you have money?" Spike raised an eyebrow as she stuffed the strawberry 
into her mouth. 

"I have some."  Willow answered, chewing. 

"Take my wallet and buy whatever you want - but be back before dark."  Spike 
moved away from the bed and started to pick up their abandoned clothes, 
throwing them on a chair. 

"Okay."  Willow stuffed another strawberry in her mouth. 

*** 

The streets were swarming with people.  A street market was going on and 
Willow happily wandered from store to store looking at the goods and people. 
She was wearing a navy linen dress that she had bought the previous night 
from the hotel store - already planning to go out today.  Relief had flooded 
her when she realized that Spike was quite happy for her to go out - he 
probably wanted sometime to himself as well. 

She had left the hotel room some five hours earlier and now, as she wandered 
through the street market carrying her purchases, fatigue seemed to sweep 
over her.  Sighing she turned away from the market and headed back toward 
the hotel, idly gazing at the shops she passed.  One presently caught her 
attention - a massage and perfumery shop that promised to create an 
individualized perfume for their customers.  Willow had never worn perfume, 
but a personalized one might be tempting so she went in. 

"Hello dear, how are you today?" a middle aged woman greeted her, a smile 
creasing her face. 

"I'm fine thank you."  Willow smiled back.  The woman walked up to her and 
lifted her wrist to her nose, smelling inquisitively.  Willow raised her 
eyebrows as the woman led her toward a room. 

"I think I have just the right thing for you my dear.  Of course you'll have 
the full massage while we make up your perfume.  Would you like it in a balm 
or spray?  We could always do both if you want?"  The woman stopped in a 
room that smelt of various oils and fragrances. 

"Oh...I..." Willow looked at the massage table and back to the woman.  A 
massage would give her a little longer away from the hotel and Spike, and it 
certainly would help her aching muscles.  "That would be lovely.  Thank 
you." 

The next hour flew by as Willow was expertly massaged with a mixture of 
oils.  The women chatted incessantly, not expecting or waiting for Willow to 
answer any of her questions.  She teased Willow about the bruises on her 
body - knowing they were the result of carnal activities.  Willow just 
smiled to herself and listened to the chatter.  She was sorry when it was 
over and reluctantly had to leave, a bottle of massage oil, perfume and balm 
wrapped in tissue paper in a bag. 

Willow felt serene and relaxed as she made her way back to the hotel.  As 
she moved through the dying heat of the day she became aware of the sweet 
aroma of the oils they had used on her body.  Smiling she made her way back 
to the room, quietly letting herself in. Spike had hung the "Do Not Disturb" 
sign on the door and Willow presumed he was asleep.  As she snuck in she 
glanced to the bed. He was again spread across the bed the sheet pulled up 
to his waist looking dead.  Quietly closing the door she put her bags down 
next to a chair and walked slowly over to the bed.  Deciding to let him 
sleep, she thought she'd grab a bite to eat in the hotels restaurant.  As 
she turned to go Spikes hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, his fingers 
painfully crushing it. 

"What the hell have you done?"  He growled, pulling her down onto the bed, 
covering her body with his. 

Part 15 

Willow lost her breath as Spike crashed down on top of her, his fingers 
biting into her wrist.  With her free hand she tried to push him away, only 
to have him seize it and pin it above her head with the other one.  Rolling 
her head back, she could see her hands, now firmly trapped by his painful 
grasp as her body was caught beneath Spike.  Wildly she swung her head 
trying to register what was happening.  She could feel his tongue laving the 
pulse point behind her ear.  Gasping for breath she listened to what he was 
saying. 

"Pet, that smell...what is it...what have you done?" his voice was low and 
feral.  The balm, he was talking about the balm.  <At least I know it suits 
me.>  Willows thoughts were interrupted by Spike writhing against her, his 
mouth devouring her neck as his free hand moved down her dress aggressively 
rubbing the material.  The rough friction of the linen against her skin 
combined with the bruising force of his hand and the pain in her wrists 
caused Willow to whimper. 

"Spike, you're hurting me...please...stop..." Willow barely managed to 
whisper, too scared of the possible consequences of the statement, but too 
scared not to make it.  She held her breath as Spike pulled his head away, 
his eyes catching hers for a moment, flashing gold.  With a soft growl he 
pushed himself off her and the bed, taking two steps away.  Willow watched 
in amazement, he had stopped.  He was trembling from restraint, hands 
clenched into fists, face devoid of emotion, except for his eyes which were 
filled with hunger and fixed on her. Watching her. Waiting. 

Willow broke his gaze, sitting up on the bed and rubbed her wrists that were 
already starting to bruise.  She looked back at him, he hadn't moved and his 
stare was still fixed on her.  Studying him carefully she noted he was fully 
aroused, wanting her.  Kicking off her shoes, she got off the bed and stood 
in front of him.  Watching him intently she bought her wrist up to his face, 
as he took in the aroma the muscle in his jaw flexed. 

"It's balm and oil - I had a massage."  Her eyes didn't leave his face. 
Spike tilted his head flicking his tongue out to taste her offered wrist. 

"It tastes like you, pet.  It smells like you.  Makes me want you Willow." 
To reinforce that point he captured her lips, his tongue begging for entry. 
As her mouth opened he stepped forward into her body, one arm snaking around 
her back, the other tangling in her hair, crushing her to him.  Sighing 
Willow abandoned herself to his kiss, her arms encircling him eagerly, her 
tongue sparring with his.  She could feel his hand pulling on the zipper of 
her dress as he shuffled them back toward the bed.  Breaking the kiss Spike 
pulled the dress off, licking the oil that covered her breasts above her 
bra.  Willow closed her eyes and moaned at the sensation. 

Arching her back against him Willow felt herself fall back onto the bed, 
Spike followed, nuzzling her breast and his arms still wrapped around her. 
Spike pushed them forward on the bed so they were lying in the middle of it. 
His tongue left her breasts and wandered back to her neck as his hand 
unclasped her bra and tore it away.  Willow felt like he was trying to 
devour her - she rolled her head back and groaned, arching her back and 
thrusting her hips up, her fingers digging into his buttocks dragging him 
down.  Growling he thrust hard against her, his erection rubbing along the 
silk of her panties.  Willow wrapped her legs around his thighs, desperately 
wanting more.  Pulling his head away from her neck she kissed him, her 
tongue forcefully demanding his. 

"Spike," she pleaded grinding her hips into his, her legs pulling him down. 
Smirking at her Spike rested on his forearms and slammed his pelvis into 
hers, the force moving her further onto the bed.  Her fingers bit into his 
flesh and a groan left her lips.  Claiming her mouth again one of his hands 
found the scrap of material and tore it away, tossing it carelessly with the 
discarded dress and bra on the floor. 

Moving down Spike let his tongue trace patterns on her flesh, licking at the 
oil, savoring her taste.  Willow moaned his name again as his tongue found 
her navel, laving it, lips sucking at the oiled skin.  Then someone knocked 
on the door.  Repeatedly. 

"I'm going to fucking kill them!" Spike flew off the bed and wrenched the 
door open to find a bellboy standing there with a smile plastered on his 
face and a large envelope in his hand.  Spike grabbed his neck and pushed 
him down eye-level with the "Do Not Disturb" sign.  "Can you read mate? 
What the fuck does that say?" 

"Spike!"  Willow called sitting up and gathering the sheet around her while 
she took in the scene.  His demon was at the fore standing butt naked with a 
raging hard-on in the open doorway and had the hotel bellboy terrified. 

"Sir, sorry sir. I...I was told to give you this." The bellboy was getting a 
close look at the "Do Not Disturb" sign and Spikes erection.  He was waving 
the envelope up in the air.  Spike grabbed the envelope and pushed the 
bellboy back into the hallway. 

"See it doesn't happen again." He growled before slamming the door shut and 
striding back to the bed.  Tossing the envelope next to Willow he crouched 
down by the edge of the bed and began to slowly crawl his way back over her. 
"Now, where were we? Mmm?" 

"What is it?"  Willow asked picking up the envelope, ignoring Spikes 
predatory actions towards her.  Growling low in the back of his throat, 
Spike picked up her foot and licked the soul, enticing a giggle.  "Oh, oh, 
Spike! It's an invitation - to a Black and White Mask ball tomorrow night! 
What is a Black and White Mask ball?" 

Spike looked up from sucking her toe to her flushed face, his hand rubbed 
the arch of her foot. 

"You wear black and white clothes and a mask, pet." He returned to her foot, 
kissing her ankle and letting his hand stroke her knee, pushing the sheet 
aside. 

"A mask..." a smile crossed her lips as Spike pulled her towards him, his 
lips brushing against her bent knee as he pushed her back.  "Can we go 
Spike?" 

"If you want to pet.  It's up to you." He crawled between her legs, his 
tongue brushed against her, licking at her moisture before flicking against 
her clitoris.  Moving he kept his head buried between her thighs, his arms 
wrapping underneath them hands resting on her stomach as his lips circled 
her clit, sucking against it. 

"I want to Spike." Willow murmured, throwing the invitation over the edge of 
the bed and pushing the rest of the sheet away.  She closed her eyes against 
everything to concentrate on the sensations that Spike was creating.  His 
tongue was lapping at her entrance, drawing out her sweet elixir, becoming 
intoxicated by it.  His teeth were randomly brushing against her clit, 
making her hips jerk, while his hands snaked up her stomach to knead her 
breasts.  Groaning she rolled her head back and tilted her hips, pushing 
herself impossibly closer to his mouth.  Spike bought his eyes up to look at 
her.  Her hands were resting above her head, clasped together.  Her face was 
flushed and she was insistently moving her hips, her body begging for 
release.  Smiling to himself Spike bought his tongue back up to her clit, 
working it furiously as he watched her come, her back arching off the bed, 
her juices surging and trickling down his chin. 

A half smirk on his face, Spike untangled his arms from her legs and crawled 
over her body, his lips claiming hers, letting her taste herself.  She 
moaned softly against his mouth and reached down to stroke his hard on. 
Pulling away from the kiss she smiled at him as she wrapped her legs around 
him.  He kissed her as he penetrated in a long hard stroke.  He rocked 
against her for a while building his own pleasure, her muscles grasping 
around him.  Soft moans were coming from them both.  The smell and feel of 
her were intoxicating Spike. As his need grew he started to quicken his 
movements, thrusting harder into her trying to embed himself even deeper 
into her tight warmth.  The feel of her lips against his neck, her 
fingernails raking his flesh, drawing blood, the sound of her calling out 
his name and her body tensing against him was enough to send him over the 
edge.  Burying his face in her neck he came in rough jerks, his hips 
slamming into her as he roared her name.  Dropping his head against her 
shoulder he waited for her to recover, her breathing was ragged and her 
heart was pounding.  Gathering her in his arms Spike gently rolled them 
over, pulling down a pillow for his head to rest on, while he maneuvered 
Willow to rest against his chest, his fingers running through her hair. 

"You'll need to buy a dress, pet." Spike spoke softly, continuing to stroke 
her hair. 

"What?" Willow asked, her fingers curling around Spikes to bring them to her 
mouth for a kiss.  "Oh, for the ball.  I can do that tomorrow.  There's 
plenty of time." 

"Do you actually plan to sleep while you are in New Orleans, love?" Spike 
rumbled with laughter.  He received no answer as Willow was already asleep. 

*** 

When Willow woke up she was alone in the bed.  The first thing she noticed 
was the soft fragrance of Jasmine which was wafting through the drapes that 
had been pulled back to reveal open windows.  Night had fallen and the room 
was partially lit by the streetlights coming through the open drapes. 
Glancing around the dimly lit room Willow caught sight of the deep dark red 
dress she had bought that afternoon.  It was laid out on a chair and the 
rest of her bags had been hidden away.  Sighing she turned her head and 
caught sight of a note on the vacant pillow. It was from Spike saying he had 
gone out but would be back soon and that they would go to dinner together. 

Willow untangled herself from the sheets and went to have a shower.  By the 
time she finished and dressed Spike still hadn't returned.  Grabbing a 
bottle of water from the small wet bar she wandered out to the balcony and 
sat in one of the large wicker chairs to wait for Spike.  She didn't have to 
wait too long. 

 "Hello, pet.  Have a good sleep?"  Spike lowered himself into the 
neighboring chair. 

"You've changed!"  Willow gasped at his appearance.  He was wearing black 
tailored trousers and a black shirt with a v-neck. 

"I've bought you a pressie, love." Spike ignored her previous comment and 
gave her a velvet box.  Opening it she discovered a beautiful garnet choker 
and matching bracelet, they were the same color as her dress. 

"Oh my!  Spike, I don't know what to say!  They're exquisite...but you 
shouldn't..." he cut her off by picking up the choker and putting in on her. 

"I don't want you to say anything, pet.  Just wear them." Spike reached down 
and clasped the bracelet on her wrist.  "Shall we go to dinner then?" 

Willow nodded. Still looking in awe at the intricate bracelet. 

*** 

Three hours later and they were back in the little club they had found the 
previous night. Much to Willows delight the same band was playing and Spike 
had conceded to dance to every song with her.  Willow bounced happily around 
the club speaking to most of the patrons and being favored with an 
introduction to the singer.  She gushed at him saying how much she loved his 
voice and asking if they had a CD out.  Spike watched her patiently, curling 
an arm around her waist while she spoke with the singer, casting him death 
stares while kissing Willows exposed shoulder.  In the small hours of the 
morning, Spike led her into one of the darker corners of the club to a huge 
overstuffed leather sofa, pulling her down on his lap.  She still babbled as 
she casually flung her arms about his neck. 

"They're here for the whole week!  It's a pity tomorrow's our last night - 
do you think we could come back tomorrow?  I mean I like this place, its 
cool.  Great ambience about..." Spike broke through her babbling. 

"I thought you wanted to go to the ball, pet?" he pushed her hair off her 
face, tracing the outline of her ear. 

"Oh, I forgot.  Well, I guess we could come here after the ball?  Couldn't 
we?"  she looked at him in question. 

"Whatever you want Willow." Spike brushed his lips against hers, his tongue 
teasing her.  Sighing she deepened the kiss bringing her hand up to stroke 
his face. Willow pulled away from the kiss as his hand slipped between her 
legs. Jamming her thighs together she tried to stop his movements, 
unfortunately his fingers were already brushing against the silk of her 
panties. 

"Spike." She hissed at him. 

"Yes pet?" he smirked as his fingers kept fondling her. 

"What are you doing?" she looked wildly around the club, desperately hoping 
no one saw them. 

"Well, I would like to think you know exactly what I'm doing." Shifting her 
slightly on his lap, Spike continued his ministrations.  "What are you 
worried about Willow?  There are fifteen people left, all happily over at 
the bar - pissed as farts.  So what are you worried about Willow?" 

"There is no way we can have...that we can do this here without getting 
caught!  It's just not possible."  Willow tightened her grip on his shirt as 
began to nibble on her ear, his fingers had worked their way under the silk. 

"Let me show you Willow." He murmured against her ear, his fingers curled 
against the silk about to rip it when Willow grasped his forearm. 

"No!" she hissed angrily.  "You are ruining all my underwear!" 

Spike chuckled at her, urging her to stand up he quickly pulled her knickers 
off intact and stuffed them in his pocket. 

"Better pet?" he asked as he pulled her back down to straddle his lap. She 
nodded at him, smiling as he kissed her. Willows hand moved down between 
them to rub against Spikes erection.  It seemed strange to encounter the 
soft loose material of his pants instead of the usual tight denim, it wasn't 
as restraining and Willow could almost wrap her fingers around him. 
Frowning, that still wasn't enough for her, she bought her other hand down 
and undid his pants freeing his throbbing erection.  Sighing happily against 
his lips she tried to encircle him as best she could, using firm strokes. 
Breaking the kiss, she looked down at his pale penis as she continued to 
play with it. 

"No wonder you're so blasé about my underwear when you don't even wear any." 
She whispered. 

"Just gets in the way pet." A noise at the bar distracted Willow and 
watching the patrons closely she realized one of them had just passed out. 
Spike pulled her hand away and lifted her slightly, his hard shaft sliding 
easily into her.  Willow gasped as she felt him enter her using his hands on 
her hips to start a lazy rhythm.  Still her eyes remained on the other 
occupants of the bar, waiting for them to turn around.  Spike smirked at her 
distraction and decided to cause a bigger one by thrusting hard into her - 
setting her off balance and making her fall against his chest. 

"Spike." She moaned as she moved her arms to grab the back of the sofa.  He 
lowered his head to her breast sucking the nipples through the thin material 
of her dress while one hand kneaded her arse the other fondled her clit, 
causing her to jerk against his hand. 

"Quietly pet, otherwise we will get caught."  Willow nodded as she lowered 
her head to nip at his neck, tongue running over his Adams apple.  She 
worked her way down to his shoulder, pulling at the shirt to expose flesh. 
She could feel herself start to surge against him, a feral scream building 
in her. Desperate to stop it escaping she bit down on his shoulder. Hard. 
She drew blood.  She drew the demon. 

Spike felt her bite, could smell his own blood, could feel her sucking 
against the wound as the rest of her body tensed about him.  Suddenly her 
hand was in his hair, pulling his demon visage away from her breasts, her 
green eyes seeking his gold ones.  Leaning down she kissed each hooded eye 
and the ridges on his forehead before claiming his mouth.  As Spike tasted 
the tang of his own blood he came, her mouth smothered his cry.  Pulling 
back Willow bought her hand up to caress Spikes face, the demon countenance 
withdrew to be replaced by his human features. 

"I told you we wouldn't get caught pet." Spike murmured as he licked at the 
sweat forming on her skin.  Willow didn't answer, just stroked his hair. 
"Maybe we should head back Willow?" 

Pushing her back onto his knees, Spike did up his pants and stood them both 
up.  Holding her arm as she swayed a little unsteadily. 

"Shall we pet?"  Willow nodded as she let Spike lead her from the club and 
out into the streets of New Orleans. 

Part 16 

"Dance with me?"  The singsong voice called softly through the darkness of 
the park.  Angel knew as soon as he heard the lilting English accent that 
it was Drusilla. Turning slowly he faced his once beloved childe. She stood in 
the moonlight in all her beauty arms outstretched in a loving embrace 
waiting for him.  Her skin was like alabaster, pale and smooth, while her 
dark hair cascaded over her shoulders - an ethereal mistress of the night. 
"My Angel, dance with me..." 

Angel took a step back from her approaching figure, causing her to stop and 
pout at him, eyes wide in disbelief.  Dropping her arms, she grasped at the 
red material of her skirt twisting it in her fingers as she whimpered. 

"Angel...you've gone all shy..." she ran a hand up the bodice of her dress 
to caress her neck.  "You've no need to be shy...the things we've done..." 

Rolling her head back she giggled low in her throat, eyes unseeing as jaded 
memories flooded her mind.  Her head fell forward and she fixed her eyes on 
Angel, slowly starting to sway towards him. The hand that had been 
caressing her throat was outstretched, the fingers trembling to touch his cold flesh. 
Her eyes mesmerized Angel; they were dull and full of desperation, a need, 
a longing.  Before those eyes had been cold and cruel, now they were 
unfocused, a reflection of the confusion of her mind filled with the 
illusions of madness.  Angel had been so lost in those haunted eyes that he 
hadn't realised that she was in front of him, her body pressing against 
his, one hand resting on his hip while the other stroked his cheek tenderly.  He 
took in her smell - like that of rose petals that had fallen from the 
flower into the vase and were slowly rotting in stagnant water. Roses and death. 
That was Drusilla.  Shoving her hands away he looked down at her. 

"What are you doing here Drusilla?  I wonder that Spike would let you out 
of his sight..." Angels' eyes narrowed as he took in the shadows of the night, 
scanning the area for the familiar figure, thinking that Drusilla being 
alone was just another of his games.  "Where's Spike?" 

"Spike?  Spike's playing...gathering roses for a crown...he's lighting a 
fire..." she whispered, looking up at Angel and smiling.  Her hands delved 
beneath his jacket, caressing his flesh, the fingers tearing at the fabric 
of his shirt.  Grabbing her hands once again Angel crushed the wrists 
beneath his fingers hoping to still her movements.  She only gasped in 
pleasure, her whole face reflecting her arousal at the pain.  "He's burning 
...like you are..." 

"Like you're going to burn if you don't get your sluttish hands off my 
boyfriend."  Buffy hissed as she stepped out from the nearby shadows. 
Drusilla snarled and turned her head. 

"Yours?  My Angel belongs to no one.  He owns us...always...always hungry." 
Drusilla yanked her hands free of Angels hold and turned to face the 
slayer. Smiling she rubbed herself back against Angel, rolling her eyes in 
pleasure. "So very hungry for flesh.  Too late he realizes what he wants...he burns 
but can't..." 

"Oh yay," Buffy cut off Drusilla's gibberish.  "Just what I don't have time 
for tonight - the incoherent babblings of a mentally challenged ho.  Last 
warning - get the hell away from him or you are dust." 

Drusilla tilted her head and looked at Buffy, eyebrows raised in thought. 
Slowly she walked away from Angel and towards the pissed off slayer. 
Raising one hand Drusilla stroked the blonde hair, twisting the ends in her 
fingertips. 

"I'm away...but tonight, when you sleep, he will be with me," she smiled 
down at the slayer, yanking her hair before releasing it. "Making me scream 
his name..." 

Buffy lashed out at Drusilla landing a savage blow on the temple.  Before 
she had time to even raise her arm for another blow Drusilla had grabbed 
her arm and was lifting her up by the neck, twirling around she threw Buffy at 
Angel, who staggered back pulling them both down to the ground in a tangle 
mes of limbs. By the time Buffy and Angel had disentangled themselves Drusilla was gone. Buffy
turned to look at Angel, brushing off her clothes. 

"Well, at least you still have your number one fan," she glanced around the 
darkened park, searching for any movements in the shadows.  "I don't think 
I have to ask what she wanted?  You are going to tell me that I'd be foolish 
to believe her, aren't you?" 

Buffy glanced back at Angel, desperately seeking confirmation that his 
childe was of no importance to him.  He was still watching the shadows. 
Buffy closed her eyes briefly trying to ignore the comment that Drusilla 
had made about later tonight as it echoed through her mind. 

"Angel?"  Buffy whispered hesitantly, causing Angel to glance down at the 
tiny blonde by his side. 

"She was, as always, talking nonsense, Buffy.  But I think she may have 
helped us - she said that Spike was lighting a fire."  Angel said as he 
began to lead Buffy from the park and toward the school and Giles. 

"Since when have we ever listened to anything she has to say?"  Buffy 
questioned, striding quickly to keep up with Angel.  "I mean it isn't like 
she makes any sense...to us anyway!" 

"Exactly.  To us, but to her - it's hard to explain Buffy.  It's like the 
expression 'method behind the madness', there is a sliver of truth to 
everything she says - we just have to find it." Angel continued striding 
through the corridors of the school, his mind focused only on the 
conversation with Drusilla. 

"A sliver of truth..."  Buffy repeated quietly to herself as they pushed 
open the doors to the library. 

After a brief explanation to Giles of the nights occurrences he was soon 
agreeing that Drusilla's ramblings should not be brushed aside and started 
to research fire.  Sighing Giles chewed on the end of his glasses. 

"This would be so much easier if Willow were here."  He said as he put his 
glasses back on and opened yet another volume.  Buffy flicked through the 
book in front of her, absently scanning the pages for any mention of fire. 

"Cheer up Giles, your favourite research assistant will be back tomorrow." 
She continued flicking at the pages. 

"Probably good for her to have a few days away from this..." Angel said 
quietly, so quietly that the others didn't hear him. He still felt bad 
about his treatment of her the previous week. His dreams had been filled of her, 
of the scene, repeating itself over and over again.  He glanced up at the 
double doors leading into the library.  "I just hope she's okay..." 

**** 

Spike glanced up at the double doors leading into the ballroom and sighed. 
He'd been waiting for Willow to walk through those doors for exactly 25 
minutes and there was still no sign of her. 

"Women!" he muttered to himself as he turned to stare at the fat 
politicians jugular, wondering if anyone would notice a brutal blood letting.  Spike 
had long ago tuned out of the conversation and was observing the other people 
who were in attendance of the ball.  Probably New Orleans cream of society, 
politicians, lawyers, old money, new money, doctors and other notables 
deemed worthy of an invitation.  Most were middle aged to elderly, toppling 
around the room, air kissing and then bitching about everyone else.  Spike 
sighed again.  "So much for a bloody black and white ball - should have 
been black." 

Black, being flattering to all body shapes and sizes, dominated the room. 
White was spent on accessories, the men's dress shirts and a number of the 
masks.  Spike himself was dressed in a stylish suit the jacket of which was 
long and fell barely above his knees, it was matched with a white silk 
shirt, white silk cravat, a heavily embroidered white waistcoat and black 
satin mask.  Needless to say he cut quite a handsome figure and all of the 
women and some of the men in the room were ogling.  And he was ignoring all 
of them. 

Tilting his head, he again wondered if he could do the world a favour and 
rip the bores throat out.  However he thought better of it - deciding that 
the old fart probably had so much fat running through his veins that he was 
a walking stroke and it would be better to let the bastard suffer.  Spike 
stared at the oaf, silently wishing that he would hurry up and have the 
stroke so that he'd at least shut up when he actually said something of 
interest. 

"Well, well, well, what a pretty piece of flesh.  I might be in with a 
chance there."  Spike turned to the doors to see Willow.  She was wearing a 
beautiful sleeveless white gown; a black chiffon scarf encircled her neck, 
the ends falling over her bare back to the ground, with long black satin 
gloves and a matching black mask.  Her red hair was twisted up, a few kiss 
curls falling about her mask and neck, moving gently as she nervously 
glanced around the crowded ballroom. 

"I doubt that very much mate," Spike practically spat the word out.  "My 
wife doesn't whore herself out to anyone and she certainly wouldn't give 
you the time of day." 

Smiling he walked away from the spluttering bright red politician (whose 
stroke was imminent as his blood pressure had just sky rocketed) and 
sauntered over to Willow, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. 

"Willow, darling, you look exquisite." He stepped up next to her, lacing 
her arm through his and began to lead her through the throng toward the dance 
floor.  "Dance with me?" 

"Why, thank you kind sir.  That would be heavenly." Answered Willow in her 
best Southern Belle accent, causing Spike to chuckle as he led her into a 
waltz.  The evening passed quickly for Willow.  Strange men were seeking 
her as a dance partner, Spike claiming her for every second dance. Soon the 
evening became nothing more than a blur of masks hiding the faces of her 
various partners, leaving only their voices identifiable as they made at 
first flattering comments later developing into lewd remarks with the 
increasing alcohol in their blood.  Relief was found in Spikes arms as he 
effortlessly danced her around the floor, intoxicating her with their 
movements, making her want more.  Just before midnight, when the official 
unmasking was meant to begin, Spike drew her aside. 

"Well pet, what say we go before you actually have to put an ugly face to 
those ugly voices?"  Spike looked down at Willow. 

"Go?  No more dancing?  Oh..." she thought for a moment her eyes 
brightening as an idea struck her.  "Can we go to the club?" 

Spike chuckled as he kissed her gloved palm. 

"Wherever you want to go Willow."  He held out his arm for her, bowing 
slightly.  "Shall we my dear?" 

**** 

The club was incredibly quiet.  There could have been no more than ten or 
twelve people, but the band was playing and the angel was singing - much to 
Willows delight.  They had come directly from the ball, still in their 
masks and costumes, looking most regal.  Wandering over to the singer Willow 
chatted to him briefly while they were taking a break.  Spike walked over 
to the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne and took it and two glasses back 
to a small table near the dance floor.  Pouring himself a glass he leaned 
back and took in the view of Willow, giggling and talking to the singer. 
He wondered where she had found the dress; she had only left the room for 
barely an hour that afternoon.  Smirking to himself, he remembered how they 
had spent the day, alternately talking and shagging, well she talked and he 
listened, asking subtle questions here and there.  It was basically 
nonsense talk - likes and dislikes, silly games that children play to get to know 
one another.  Enough for him to be know that he had been correct in the 
assumptions that he had made of Willow.  Who she was, her tastes, her 
loves, her hates and her fears.  It was enough.  As she walked back to him he 
noticed she was happily waving something in her hand. 

"Paul gave me their CD!  Don't you think that was sweet of him?" she sat 
down and took the glass that he was offering, sipping it.  "They are going 
to be back in about five minutes.  Then we can dance and dance!" 

Which they did - for hours.  Perhaps it was the mood they gave off or 
perhaps the barkeeper was just too scared to ask Spike to leave, but they 
stayed for hours.  Dancing and drinking champagne.  During the last dance 
Spike leant down to whisper the lyrics of the song in Willows ear making 
her giggle. 

"I want you, I need you. I want your happiness and tears.  I want to 
possess you.  I want to know where the hell you've been."  Willow listened as he 
continued to repeat those words in her ear, a shiver coursing through her 
at the depth and emotion of his voice.  Finally he pulled away and looked 
around the nearly deserted club.  "Well pet, I think its time to leave." 

"But I want to waltz still Spike."  Willow giggled under the influence of 
the champagne.  Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. 

"I'll waltz you to eternity Willow." 

It wasn't eternity - just to their hotel room.  Stopping only once they 
were behind their door.  Willow watched as he removed his jacket, throwing it 
carelessly over the back of an armchair.  Sighing she stepped in close and 
started to undo the buttons on his waistcoat. 

"Where did you get this?" she asked offhandedly.  It fitted too well to be 
a random kill and take.  She ran her gloved hands along the material of the 
waistcoat, a finger tracing the embroidered patterns in awe.  It was a 
truly beautiful suit. 

"Tailor in the French Quarter...I didn't think leather and jeans would be 
acceptable, pet." He pulled at the cravat, loosening the knot and 
untangling it, as he watched her gloved fingers fumble with the buttons on the shirt. 
Lifting one of the hands to his mouth he kissed it lightly before turning 
away from her to remove the shirt and place it with the rest of the items 
on the chair.  He heard her giggle lightly and so turned back to face her. 
She was running her hands over the lines of her dress. 

"I can't believe I spent so much money on this dress and I won't ever be 
able to wear it again..." she twirled around, causing the skirt of the 
dress to twist about her legs.  Spike moved forward and took hold of her hand, 
his eyes running appreciatively over the dress and Willow.  Smiling he knelt 
before her, a hand caressing her ankle before lifting her foot and removing 
the shoe. 

"Why won't you be able to wear it again?" he looked up at her as he 
repeated the movement with her other foot.  He remained on his knees waiting for an 
answer, his hands caressing her ankles and calves.  Willow looked down at 
his masked face and smiled her hands holding onto his bare shoulders for 
support. 

"I doubt that I would ever have the occasion to wear it in Sunnydale..." 
she absently stroked the material of the gown with one gloved hand her face 
loosing her smile.  "Anyway I wouldn't want to..." 

Willow gasped as she felt Spikes hands move higher up her legs and his 
mouth kiss the material of her dress above her pubic bone. She closed her eyes to 
concentrate on the feel of his cool hands as they stroked her thighs, the 
sensation of his mouth moving along the dress, pausing at the navel his 
tongue swirling around the material teasing her through it.  Sighing she 
let her hands caress his back, marvelling at the feel of his muscles flexing as 
he moved. 

"So," his voice reverberated against her as his mouth moved up to suckle 
her breast through the dress and she whimpered at the lost of his hands on her 
thighs as he dragged down her knickers and then bought his hands up to hold 
her waist.  "The dress has served its purpose and is now...useless? 
Nothing more than a rag." 

The question hung in the air as Willow looked at him.  She nodded.  Smiling 
lasciviously he wrapped his fists in the material of the neckline. 

"Useless," he stated as he tore the gown away.  Willow gasped in shock as 
the gown fell to the floor and then giggled. 

"Oh my, just useless!" she said, as Spike lowered his head to lave at her 
nipple, hungrily sucking on it like a starved child as his hands roamed her 
body.  Moaning his name Willow entangled her fingers in his short hair, 
holding him closer as she pushed her body into him.  If he hadn't been 
holding on to her she would have fallen to the floor.  She could hear him 
chuckling against her flesh, making her shiver.  His hands tightened on her 
flesh and he swung her into his arms to twirl around before carrying her to 
the bed.  Placing her gently on the bed he took off his trousers and shoes 
before lying down beside her, one hand idly stroking her thigh. 

Willow sighed contently and ran her gloved hand across his back.  Glancing 
at the clock on the bedside table she grimaced to herself.  It read 4.48am. 

"Twelve hours," she spoke quietly. 

"What pet?" Spike asked as his hands continued to explore her body. 

"Less than twelve hours before we leave," she bought a hand up to caress 
the satin mask he still wore, her fingertips barely brushing against his face. 
Sighing she bought her other hand up to her own mask.  "Twelve hours before 
we end this charade." 

Spikes hand shot out and his fingers encircled Willows wrist before she 
could remove her mask. 

"Leave it on, pet."  He leant forward and captured her lips with his own, 
his tongue teasing them open before delving into the warmth of her mouth, 
taking her breath away.  Continuing his assault on her mouth he pushed her 
back onto the bed, one hand delving between her legs and teasing at her 
already wet slit.  Willow moaned and lifted a leg, slinging it casually 
across his ass and thigh, urging him down to her. "Twelve hours pet.  I 
think we can entertain ourselves until ..." 

Spike forgot his sentence and moaned as Willows satin covered fingers 
encircled his cock, making it throb as she stroked it before guiding him 
into her. 

"Make me forget Spike." She murmured as she nibbled on his ear and thrust 
up against him, her breasts pushing into his chest. 

"I'll do anything for you Willow," he said as he rolled over her and began 
a steady rhythm of thrusts while his mouth caressed her breasts and neck. 

"Anything?"  Willow asked as she met his thrusts, delighting in the 
sensations he was creating with his talented mouth.  He pulled his head 
away from her breasts to look her in the eye. 

"Anything you want from me Willow." He growled at her, his voice low. 
Staring at him in wonder, she realised he was serious. 

"Would you kill for me?" she asked, moving against him, a low groan 
escaping as he thrust deep into her, his flesh rubbing hard against her clitoris. 

"Yes," he hissed thrusting harder against her.  "I would kill.  Anyone, 
anywhere without a moments hesitation.  Anything you ask of me Willow, it 
is yours." 

Rolling her head back she moaned in sheer pleasure as he continued to build 
the tension in her body, her mind concentrating only on his words and the 
sensations of his body.  With every thrust she moaned and writhed against 
him.  Closing her eyes she lost herself to him, surrendered all thoughts 
but him. 

"Would you die for me Willow?" he questioned softly.  Willows eyes shot 
open, her whole body tensed in fear.  Was this it?  Was this what he wanted 
from her?  He continued to thrust into her, long hard thrusts that were 
painstakingly slow, a torture almost.  His eyes never left hers as he 
waited for an answer.  She searched those eyes desperately for some sign; she 
could read nothing in them except for the question.  Would she die for him? 
Briefly her mind flashed with images, of her friends, of her life, and of 
Spike.  Closing her eyes against his intense stare she swallowed back the 
lump that was forming in her throat.  Opening her eyes she looked deep into 
his blue gaze and answered honestly. 

"Yes Spike.  I would."  His lips crushed down on hers and she felt one of 
his arms wrap tightly around her waist while the other hand buried itself 
in her hair. Lifting her body closer to his he began to move faster within 
her, causing her to moan loudly as she wrapped her arms and legs tightly about 
him.  Willow arched back into his arms as she felt her body start to 
tremble, her muscles clenching around his shaft urging him impossibly 
deeper into her.  As she came she screamed his name her hands digging into his 
flesh. 

While her muscles were still contracting and trembling around him Spike 
lowered his head. His mouth and lips caressed her throat.  She could feel 
tears begin to burn at the back of her eyes as she rolled her head back to 
expose her neck to him.  As she felt his lips pressing against her pulse 
point, his tongue laving at it in the same rhythm of his thrusts, she felt 
her body begin to tense again.  Her breath was coming in ragged gasps as 
his thrusts became harder and faster, his hips slamming into her and his 
fingers biting at her flesh drawing her to him.  As she felt his blunt teeth scrape 
across the flesh of her neck her body jerked up against his, muscles 
tightening and clenching around him and she wailed his name. Pulling his 
mouth away from her neck Spike howled as he came with her. 

Still holding her close as he licked at the tears, Spike rolled carefully 
pulling Willow on top of him, gently tugging at her mask and throwing it 
carelessly aside before doing the same with his own mask. 

"There is no masquerade between us Willow." He murmured softly into her 
ear, kissing the lobe.  "Remember that." 

Willow could feel his arms tighten around her, his hands soothing her still 
trembling body, urging it to sleep. 

Part 17 

Willow's sense of despondency had been growing ever since they had left the hotel and now, some 
seven hours later as Spike's manic driving ability had them speeding back to Sunnydale, it seemed to 
engulf her.  The closer they got the more she retreated into her thoughts.  Sighing she closed her eyes 
against the scratched black window she had been staring at for the last hour.  She knew no matter
what 
there would be questions - her sudden disappearance, Spike would have been notably missed as
well 
and the connection was Oz.  She wondered exactly what Spike had done during the time she left the 
dressing room and when he joined her at the bar - there had been no mention of it in their time
together. 
In all possibility Oz could be dead.  Although curious, there was a part of her that was too frightened
to 
ask, she didn't really want to know.  But there was the problem, Oz would have told everyone of
Spike 
accompanying her to LA and it wouldn't take them long to put the two's disappearances together.  It
was 
going to be one hell of mess when she got back. 

Wriggling around on the leather seat, her body tired and aching, she glanced across at Spike her
brow 
wrinkling in confusion. They had spent the whole day in bed together, their sexual acts had become a 
reflection of Willow's growing apprehension, she lost herself in the physical release and Spike, 
desperately clinging to something which could soon be over.  She had been amazed by her own 
stamina.  Through the course of the day he had been attentive and gentle - giving her a massage with
her 
personalised oil and then another with his tongue as he proceeded to lick it off.  When she woke late
in 
the afternoon their things were packed in two cases and Spike was running a bath.  On the plane trip 
back his hand never left her thigh, and now, although she was sitting some distance from him, he had 
stretched his arm across the back of the seats so that his fingers were lightly touching her shoulder. 

Sighing Willow looked back at the window.  Conversation had been the only thing lacking that day. 
Nothing had been said about what had passed between them.  There was no talk of the future or
even 
their return to Sunnydale.  It just happened, everything just happened.  She was lost.  Every fibre of
her 
being was screaming out "what happens now" but she couldn't bring herself to ask Spike that 
question...she was too frightened of the answer, of the consequences.  Rolling her eyes up she stared
at 
the ceiling of the car.  Consequences.  Where was that thought when she had jumped Spike in LA? 
Consequences.  Why didn't she think of those when she went to New Orleans?  Consequences. 
Why 
didn't she consider those before telling a demon she would die for him?  The screaming questions of 
Willow's thoughts were interrupted by Spike brushing his fingers along her jaw as he pulled the car
up at 
her house.  She watched as he got out of the car and listened to the sound of the boot opening and 
closing.  Running her fingers along the slim column of her neck she eased herself off the seat and out
of 
the car, taking Spike's offered hand to stand up. 

"Thank you," she said glancing into his eyes. Something flickered momentarily in their blue depths 
before returning to the cold glassy stare.  She flinched as he bought a hand up to caress her face, 
smiling he leant in and kissed her softly.  Pulling her gaze away from his face Willow took the large 
leather case from his hand before turning on her heel and walking into the safety of her house, aware
of 
his eyes following her.  Leaning against the closed door she waited, listening as she heard him drive 
away.  Biting her bottom lip she looked around the darkened house.  She knew why she hadn't 
considered the consequences of her actions.  Because they didn't matter.  She didn't regret anything 
that she had done. 

Entering her room the flashing of the answering machine was the first thing she noticed.  Without
turning 
on the light she played the messages -messages from Buffy, Xander, her parents and Oz.  Buffy and 
Xander were just general chitchat, call me when you get in type messages, nothing of great
importance. 
Her parents were calling to say that yet again they would be away for the next month or so.  Oz
needed 
to talk and could she please call him when she got back.  Sighing Willow picked up the phone, her 
fingers hovering above the number pad, she glanced quickly at the alarm clock on her bedside table it

was just before midnight.  She put the phone back down and began unpacking her bag - they could
all 
wait until tomorrow. 

*** 

From the shadows of Willow's balcony he watched her.  Watched as she moved about her room,
her 
hesitation to contact her friends.  Watched as she unpacked the bag, as she stripped off and 
disappeared through the door.  Watched as she came back, dropped her towel and crawled naked
into 
her bed to sleep.  Then and only then did he move forward to rest his forehead against the glass of
the 
doors, keeping a solitary sentry until the threat of sunrise forced a retreat. 

*** 

It was close to sunrise when Drusilla heard the door to the bedroom being opened.  Sighing softly,
she 
let out a giggle.  She was lying on the bed her feet bare, one arm thrown carelessly above her head
while 
the other traced the soft contours of her dress. 

"Drusilla," a soft male voice purred as the bed shifted and a cool body spooned in behind her. 
Drusilla 
closed her eyes and concentrated on the tactile sensations created as she rubbed back against him. 
Opening her mouth she gasped before giggling again as a hand joined hers to caress her body. 

"You're here," she sighed moving their hands down to her thighs.  "I thought you'd never come
home." 

Dull teeth nuzzled at her neck before moving up to nip at her earlobe. The dark haired vampire leant
back 
and moaned, her body pushing back against the other.  Long delicate fingers danced across her body

before deftly finding their way beneath the layers of skirts she was wearing.  She was already wet,
her 
clit swollen and begging to be touched.  She couldn't help but moan in delight as the fingers gently 
touched her and she began to thrust down against them seeking more contact.  She was rewarded as

two fingers caught her clit, alternately rubbing and twisting until she was begging for more.  Her face 
reflected the pure ecstasy those fingers were creating, her eyes were closed while her lips were moist

and parted. Three fingers pushed deep inside her, the thumb rhythmically teasing her clit as the fingers

began to thrust in and out.  With a final thrust she came, soaking the hand and squeezing the fingers 
trapping them inside her. 

"Angel!" she cried out, her voice full of passion. 

*** 

<I can do this.> thought Willow as she walked towards her locker.  She looked up and saw Buffy
and 
Giles determinedly walking towards her.  <No, I was wrong.  I can't do this.> 

Turning she hoped to walk away unnoticed, unfortunately Xander was standing right in front of her. 

"What's this?" he asked, a frown marring his face. 

"What's what?" asked Willow.  <Oh my god, they know.> 

"You go away for four days and you can't be bothered to call your best friend when you get back?"
he 
gave her a lopsided grin.  "That will definitely cost you in the souvenir department...or at least those 
miniature helpings of goodness they give you on the airplane.  So where is it?  What did you bring
me?" 

"Really Xander, I think we have far more important things to discuss with Willow than...presents."
Spoke 
Giles as he turned his attention to a still startled Willow.  "I need you to do some research after 
classes." 

"Well, I was..." Willow struggled to think of some excuse to get out of it. 

"Drusilla gave us a hot tip, according to Angel!" Buffy exclaimed, giving an exasperated look to her
friend. 

"Drusilla?" Willow asked quietly, searching Buffy's face. 

"Yep she's back, raving like a lunatic...which is what she has always done..." Buffy looked at Giles
and 
shrugged. "Well she is, and was and always will be." 

"Yes, well. After classes - I'll see you all then." Said Giles as he walked off to the library. 

Willow stood in stunned silence.  Drusilla was back.  She shouldn't be that shocked - Spike had said 
she was coming.  Before her mind could form any logical discussion with itself Buffy poked her in the 
shoulder, a lascivious smile crossing her face. 

"So Miss I've-Been-Gone-For-Days want to tell me what you really got up too?" she waggled her 
eyebrows at Willow. 

"What?" Willow asked open mouthed, still reeling from the news of Drusilla's reappearance. 

"Well, lets see..." Buffy turned to wink at Xander. "You go to LA to see your boyfriends band and
just 
suddenly disappear for a few days..." 

"Definitely sounds like a naughty naked romp was had by Willow to me," added Xander, joining in
Buffy's 
taunts. 

"I...how...what do you mean?" stuttered Willow. <Oh god, they do know.> 

"Come on Will, you and Oz both go missing at the same time?  We aren't stupid you know!" Buffy 
exclaimed shaking her head. 

"I have to go to class." Said Willow grabbing her books and walking away as fast as possible. 

"Well, guess we won't be getting any juicy details. Then again, do I really want to know the naked
details 
of my best friend?" muttered Xander, pondering the idea.  Tucking his hands into his jean pockets he 
watched Willows retreating figure.  "Big NO on that one." 

*** 

Seven o'clock found Willow settled in front of the computer in the library researching fire.  Pausing
she 
looked around the library, relieved to be back in familiar surroundings where everything appeared
normal. 
The day had been little more than a blur of classes, books and research.  Oz, although at school, had 
been easily avoided.  It had become obvious, after her initial panic, that he had said nothing.  They
had 
spoken briefly at lunchtime, both unsure as to what to say, before making excuses to leave.  Deciding

she would have to talk to him later she returned her attention to the computer. 

Fire, she had no idea what she was looking for.  Of course do a general search on the word "fire" on
the 
net and you come across millions of sites.  Mind you pairing it down with a few other choice
demonology 
phrases and words didn't help much either.  Nearly every prophecy, demon, or "end of the world" 
catastrophe related directly or indirectly to fire.  <Hopeless, like looking for a needle in a haystack.> 

One of the doors of the library swung open, causing Willow to look up from her computer - she was 
expecting to see Buffy and Angel returning from patrol.  Unfortunately Oz slowly walked in. 

"Hey guys," he offered to Xander and Giles who were researching books at the large table.  He
walked up 
to Willow.  "We need to talk." 

Willow swallowed as she took in his calm demeanour.  Slowly rising out of the chair she nodded and 
turned to Giles.  "Giles, do you mind if we use your office?" 

"Not at all, go ahead," Giles said with a flick of his wrist, his nose still buried in the volume he was 
reading. 

"Talking after the dirty weekend...this is not good." mumbled Xander pushing his chair back on two
legs 
as Giles office door closed behind the couple. 

"Xander," Giles said quietly, still not looking up from his book. 

"Mmm?" Xander asked. 

"Do shut up." 

*** 

Part 17 cont'd 

Willow waited.  Oz wanted to talk so he could start the conversation.  The silence was deafening. 

"Willow, I'm sorry.  I don't know what to say...all I know is that I miss you.  I miss talking to you.  I
miss 
holding you in my arms.  I miss the way you make me feel."  Oz paused, uncertain of what to say
next. 

Willow stood there, listening to the words he spoke.  To her they didn't really make sense.  She
knew he 
wanted forgiveness.  He had forgiven her for the indiscretion with Xander.  Was this really any
different? 
She rationalised that the groupie sex probably meant less to him than what she had with Xander.  In
that 
case yes, she could forgive him.  But it wasn't as simple as that. 

"Oz, I think it best that we both take a break.  We need time to think about our relationship...I mean 
obviously there is something wrong with it...or it lacks something...or there is something wrong with 
us...as an us..." She looked at him for the first time since entering the office and realised she was 
babbling.  She studied him intently for a moment and suddenly felt certain of one thing.  "I don't want
to 
do this anymore." 

"What?" Oz asked in disbelief.  "That's it?  We hit a rough spot that you don't want to deal with so
it's 
over?  I was stupid, I admit that, but what we have Willow, it's good, it's what I want.  That girl...she
was 
nothing...it meant nothing.  This...us, it's right." 

"How can you say it's right? It can't be if we both have to find satisfaction with other people..." she 
stopped for a moment to look at him, his demeanour still outwardly calm, his eyes fixed on her.  He 
wanted her, he wanted to keep what they had.  "This isn't about what you want Oz. We've both
made 
mistakes.  We need to take a break and consider what we really want." 

"I know what I want...I want you Willow.  I want it the way it was before.  I am sorry it happened, it
was a 
stupid, stupid mistake and I would do anything to change it, to make it better.  Tell me what I have to
do 
and I'll do it." He begged. 

The sound of Buffy's voice penetrated the office.  Willow sighed Angel and Buffy were back.  Buffy
was 
telling Giles about patrol and how vamp activity was definitely on the up.  Willow looked around the
office 
she was beginning to feel trapped, like she was suffocating.  Oz wanted her, was willing to do
anything 
for her. 

"I don't want to do this anymore Oz."  It was the only thing Willow was certain off.  Before Oz had a 
chance to say anything Willow opened the door and began to walk out of the office, she knew he 
wouldn't make a scene, it wasn't his style.  Unfortunately she was wrong. 

"Why were you in LA with Spike?" Willow closed her eyes for the briefest of moments as Oz's
question 
seem to reverberate around the whole library, she didn't think she had ever heard him speak so
loudly. 

"What?" asked Giles, startled out of his research. 

Willow turned to glance quickly at Oz before turning her attention back to the occupants of the
library, 
Giles, Xander, Angel and Buffy, everyone was staring at her, shock clearly visible on their faces. 

"I wasn't in LA with Spike," Willow blatantly lied, taking a deep breath before continuing.  "He was 
already at the club when I showed up and after..." she turned for a moment to look at Oz, tears
pricking 
at her eyes, the frustration and anger of his betrayal finally surging forth.  "Afterwards I lost him and
went 
straight to the airport and on to New York." 

She waited, hoping that they would buy the story.  In the faces before her she saw relief, except for 
Angel who was flexing his jaw and clenching his fists.  Curiosity was aroused and barrages of
questions 
were fired at her. 

"What do you mean 'lost him'?" Buffy queried, it was the only question Willow heard that she felt 
comfortable with. 

"He followed me to the dressing room," Willow paused as Oz ducked his head down.  "And I don't
know 
what happened, but I left and he stayed...well at least I think he stayed, I'm not sure." 

"He stayed," Oz offered, gazing down at the floor before looking back at Willow.  "He killed
her...ripped 
her throat out..." 

"Killed who? What 'her'?"  Buffy asked frowning at Oz and Willow. 

"What girl?" asked Angel, echoing Buffy's question eyes fixed on Oz. 

Oz stared back at Angel, almost wincing at the intensity of his gaze.  He had always gotten on well
with 
Angel, they were of similar natures and had their own demons to fight, but now he saw the same look
in 
Angel's eye as he had seen in Spike's just before he...Oz winced visibly. 

"I had...I was with a girl." Oz offered uncertainly.  "In the dressing rooms, she was a...groupie." 

Willow turned her head away, willing herself not to cry. 

"You what?" cried Xander incredulously standing up and sending his chair flying.  "You should..." 

"Xander that's enough!"  Willows voice cut through the air like a knife.  She stared at them all her
resolve 
face firmly in place.  "What happened in LA is our business - it has nothing to do with any of you." 

"But Spike..." Buffy started only to be cut down by a withering scowl from Willow. 

"I told you he was at the club when I got there - I didn't even know he was there until I was at the 
dressing room.  I left straight away and went to New York - I can show you my airline ticket if you
don't 
believe me," Willow waited, the ticket was a bluff but it might be all she needed to get out of the
mess. 

"There's no need for that Willow, we would never doubt what you say," said Giles softly.  "I think it
best 
we get back to our research, that is if you feel up to it Willow?" 

Willow nodded and walked back to the computer.  As she sat down she glanced in the general
direction 
of Angel and Buffy.  She saw a look of shock and pity on Buffy's face as the understanding that
Willow 
had caught Oz in a compromising position with a groupie finally dawned on her. Angel was still
glaring at 
Oz his dark eyes practically smouldering while the rest of his face was set in a mask of indifference. 

"Oz, I think it would be best if you leave." Giles quietly stated.  Oz nodded and walked out the door. 
As 
Giles continued to talk about the specifics of what needed to be researched no one noticed Angel 
silently follow Oz. 

*** 

"Want to tell me what really went on?" growled Angel.  Oz fiddled with his van keys, before
unlocking the 
drivers' door. 

"I was getting blown by some little groupie.  I didn't even know her name.  Door opened, there was
Willow 
and Spike.  Door shut and the next thing I knew the girl was dead, and I was pinned against a wall 
thinking I was going to be next," he paused for a moment before partially turning his head.  "I know
she 
was there with Spike.  Something's changed...I can't smell her anymore." 

"What do you mean?" he felt Angel closing the space between them, the hairs on the back of his neck

were rising as the air about him cooled. 

"I can smell her essence, but not her.  She smells like she's aroused, but I can't smell anything else. 
Before I could smell her fear, her pain...now there's just her, nothing else."  Oz paused considering
his 
words.  "It's like she's masked by her own smell." 

Suddenly Oz felt himself grabbed by the scruff of the neck and his head slammed forcefully into the
side 
of the van.  Angel's fingers dug cruelly into the flesh, nails breaking through the skin with a mind
numbing 
pressure.  Oz froze, terrified of what was going to happen, he felt a cool breath of air run across his
ear. 

"She didn't deserve to be treated like that.  Stay away from her.  Don't talk to her. Don't even look at
her. 
Hurt her again and you will pay." Angels voice was dangerously low.  Pulling Oz's head back he
again 
slammed it into the side of the van.  "Do you understand?" 

"Yes," Oz gulped, tears of pain and fear leaking from his eyes.  Suddenly he was alone.  Fumbling he 
got in the van, locked the doors and headed home. 

*** 

Angel breathed deeply, inhaling her smell.  "You're wearing a new perfume?" 

"What?"  Willow looked up at him and smiled.  "Oh, no, no - it's a balm I got it in New...New
York." 

She offered him her wrist, silently scolding herself for almost saying New Orleans. 

"Suits you," Angel stated.  They were barely a block from her house.  He had offered to walk her
home 
after Giles decided to call it a night "Sorry about Oz." 

Willow remained quiet for a moment, an uneasy feeling sweeping through her.  "I...I really don't want
to 
talk about it - it's nobodies business.  What happens between Oz and I should just concern us, no
one 
else." 

"Alright, let's talk about Spike then," Angel offered. 

"You don't believe me, do you?" she knew it was a stupid question because she was certain that
Angel 
didn't. 

"Should I?" Angel asked. 

"Please Angel, we've done this before.  We don't need to do it again." 

"Don't we?  You're probably right there, what with Dru back I doubt it if he would even notice
anyone else, 
unless he wanted to use them."  Angel chose his words carefully, they were packed with malice and 
cruel intent to play on her weaknesses.  He hated himself for what he was saying but he was hoped
that 
it would keep her from harm.  "I mean he worships her, loves her unconditionally - it's always been
like 
that and nothing will ever change the way he feels about her.  I would even hesitate to say he loves
her 
more than I love Buffy.  Why would he want you, Willow?" 

They were walking up her pathway when Angel said that, it was a question he hoped would gall her
into 
answering.  Glancing down he took in her glassy eyes and trembling bottom lip and at that moment he

knew he had gone too far.  Pale and drawn, he knew that the confrontation with Oz had taken it's toll
and 
that he had just added to her despair by declaring that she was a poor alternative or nothing more
than a 
pawn in game that Spike would play.  Silently he vowed he would do whatever he could to keep her,

protect her, and stop her from being hurt.  "Goodnight Willow, sleep well." 

He leant forward and brushed his lips across her forehead before turning away and leaving her on the

doorstep. 

*** 

Willow sat on the floor by her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly
around 
her legs.  She had been like that for hours, ever since Angel had left her, she had just been sitting
there 
staring into the darkness.  She knew that Angel was right about Spike and his feelings for Drusilla.  If 
anyone knew Spike it was Angel.  Angel had made him, shaped him into the vampire he was today. 
If 
Angel was right about his childes love for Dru he was probably right in his assumptions about Spike 
using her - after all he had said as much in the library that time. 

"Call it a distraction love," Spike had said. 

Was it that?  Willow wasn't sure but she remembered the jest of it.  That she was a distraction until
Dru 
came back and now Dru was here in Sunnydale.  Burying her head in her knees she rocked silently
for a 
moment.  Part of her was screaming that she wasn't a distraction, couldn't be a distraction not after 
everything that had passed between them.  But then her rational side would kick in...if she was
important 
to him, if he did care for her why wasn't he there?  Lifting her head she glanced at the clock, just past

three in the morning.  There was still time, he could still come.  With that thought in mind she waited, 
rocking herself until the sun made it's daily appearance. 

He hadn't come. 

*** 

"Hey Willow," said Buffy sitting down next to her friend in the warm sunshine.  "How you doing?" 

"Okay," Willow replied taking an interest in her shoe. 

"I've missed you...Willow I'm so sorry about you and Oz. I really thought that you two were meant
for 
each other," Buffy said looking at Willow's pale face and dark ringed eyes, she knew that it must
have 
been difficult for the redhead.  To find your boyfriend having cheap flings, worse still to actually walk
in 
while he was having the cheap fling, it made Buffy shudder in disgust.  "If there's anything I can do,
you 
know, I am here for you." 

"Thanks Buffy.  I'm okay, really," she shifted slightly.  "So how's things been here?  Did I miss
anything 
exciting?" 

"I don't know, I think something's going on with Angel.  He seems really distant lately." Buffy
shrugged. 

"Well he is the original brood guy," Willow glanced at her friend whose face was twisted into a huge 
pout.  "Oh Buffy, Angel loves you - you know that." 

"Do I?  He's been so strange since Drusilla came back.  She wants him you know, she said that he 
would be with her.  Do you think he would?  I mean she seemed pretty certain that they were going 
to...well you know." 

"Drusilla," Willow sighed.  "I mean what is so fantastic about her?  What would he see in her?  Okay
her 
figure...if you go in for that emancipated consumption type.  She has beautiful hair...and her skins like 
porcelain and not to forget her really awesome cheekbones.  Yeah, so those things are good.  But I 
mean she's insane!  What kind of relationship could you have?  I guess though there is the sex.  I
mean 
what is a few months experience compared to over a centuries?" 

"I don't think this is really helping Will," Buffy hiccupped almost in tears. 

"Oh, oh, OH! Buffy I'm sorry I didn't mean...well I was just you know, being me and rambling...kind
of got 
lost in a list of good and bad.  Angel doesn't love Drusilla, he loves you Buffy." 

"But that's the thing - he could have sex with her and nothing, no big happy but at least he'd be 
satisfied." 

"No Buffy, Angel wouldn't do that.  Not ever."  Willow looked at her friend.  How had the
conversation 
gone from her pain into yet another 'look at me, poor Buffy' exchange.  <Things never change.> 
"You 
know what we need to do Buffy?" 

Buffy looked at Willow and forlornly shook her head. 

"We need to go shopping. Right now."  Willow stood up and grabbed her bag and headed toward
the 
school gates.  Buffy opened her mouth and shut it before grabbing her own bag and following her. 

"Don't you think a chocolate binge and sad movies would be better...and actually Will probably even 
waiting until after class?" Buffy asked falling into step next to Willow. 

"No, I don't want to cry anymore and I want to buy some clothes.  We can get class notes off
Xander." 
Willow rationalised. 

"Wow, we have a plan of action." Buffy stated. 

Hours and hundreds of dollars later found Willow sitting in the waiting area of Sunnydales' most
exclusive 
hairdressers.  Buffy had a previous appointment but unfortunately there wasn't a spare one for
Willow, so 
she was stuck waiting for Buffy to have her "usual". 

"Well are you finally gaining some class and getting a proper hairstyle instead of that pathetic bowl cut

your mother gives you?" Cordelia scowled at Willow. 

<Oh great.  Cordelia Chase, just what I don't need.>  Willow thought.  "I tried but they don't have
any 
appointments free." 

"So you just decided to hang out in the waiting room trying to get some credentials?  Because believe

me it won't work." 

"No, I am waiting for Buffy to get her hair..." 

"You'll be here for hours," sniped Cordelia.  "Takes a lot of bleach to get that natural bottle blonde
look 
she sports.  You really should do something with your hair while she's here - no use wasting time
sitting 
when they could be cutting." 

"I told you they don't have any appointments." 

"ALEX!" screamed Cordelia, causing Willow to jump.  A perfectly groomed, stunning and
undoubtedly 
gay hairdresser was at her side in moments, air kissing her to death. 

"Cordelia, darling," he smiled at her.  "Gorgeous as always." 

"Oh please enough with the flattery, you are paid to keep my hair not my ego.  This is..." Cordelia 
paused for a moment to look at Willow, she wasn't about to call her friend.  "This is Willow.  She's in

desperate need of a haircut - other than...that." 

Willow scowled at Cordelia and her rudely pointing finger.  Smoothing down her hair she was about
to 
protest but found she couldn't get a word in edgewise as Cordelia continued. 

"Now of course I know you are the best person to help her...I mean that is your job and it is why I
come 
to you and only you.  So you can work on her upstairs while I have my usual treatment." Said
Cordelia 
grabbing Willow's arm and dragging her up the stairs to the "VIP" department of the exclusive 
hairdressers - somewhere Buffy had only dreamed of going. 

"But my shopping," Willow wailed in protest. 

"Someone will bring it up."  Cordelia said shoving her into a chair and dropping a handful of hairstyle 
magazines in her lap.  "Pick something...actually let me pick something..." 

"No thank you - I am perfectly capable of choosing a suitable hairstyle," Willow huffed as she started
to 
flick through the magazine.  Moments later she found herself in deep discussion with Cordelia on the 
merits of the various hairstyles and colours. 

A colour bath, cut and deep conditioning treatment later Willow was starting at her own reflection. 
"Wow." 

"Wow," repeated Cordelia.  Turning to Alex she smiled.  "Good job!  I would never have recognised
her." 

It wasn't true.  The usual bob had been layered, the back still held it's length but the front had been
cut 
into soft short layers to frame her face, the first layer fell just below her eyes.  The colour was the
biggest 
difference the once coppery red locks were now a deep rich red which emphasised her pale skin and

green eyes. 

"It suits you," Cordelia said truthfully.  While Willow had been held prisoner in the hairdressers chair 
Cordelia had gleefully gone through the bags of clothes Willow had bought.  To say she was
surprised 
was an understatement.  It was obvious that Buffy had no say in the clothes that had been bought -
they 
were classically stylish, not the sluttish style that Buffy was so fond of or the usual fluffy outfits that
were 
associated with the redhead.  When she questioned Willow about them she had shrugged and said
she 
had needed new clothes and that she wanted something she liked.  Cordelia couldn't believe that she 
was finally showing some spunk.  "Unfortunately it doesn't suit those." 

Cordelia pointed at the baggy overalls and sneakers Willow was wearing. Standing up Willow
looked at 
her reflection and nodded. 

"Definitely doesn't suit.  Is there somewhere I could change?" she asked Alex, who directed her to a 
small change room in the corner.  She grabbed a few of her bags and disappeared from view. 
Cordelia 
smiled to herself. 

"Alex, make sure that whenever Willow comes in that you give her your full attention."  Cordelia
twirled 
around and collected her things before moving back downstairs.  At the reception desk she paid not
only 
for her haircut but also for Willow's.  "Tell her it's a coming out gift." 

As she turned to go she caught a glimpse of Buffy waiting on the lounge flicking through a magazine. 
"Better watch out slayer I think your meekly little friend is about to steal your thunder in the looks 
department...she certainly has better taste." 

Without waiting for a reply Cordelia Chase walked out of the hairdressers thinking that her actually 
enjoying Willow's company was merely a hairdressing fluke.  As she approached her car a hand shot
out 
and grabbed her arm. 

"HEL," she began to scream turning to face her attacker.  Rolling her eyes in disgust she pulled her
arm 
away.  "Do you always have to be so stealthy Angel?  A simple 'hello' would have been sufficient
rather 
than trying to scare me to death." 

"Have you seen Buffy or Willow?" Angel asked.  "They're missing." 

"No they're not."  She said angrily getting into her car.  "They are in the hairdressers, actually they are

probably wandering around the mall spending more money right now." 

Without a word Angel slammed the car door shut and walked towards the mall. 

"You're welcome!  Men!  Honestly who needs them?" Cordelia muttered to herself as she drove off. 

Angel wandered through the mall, there were a scattering of people but it was relatively quiet.  He
caught 
a glimpse of Buffy trying on shoes and started to head towards her bumping into someone on the
way. 
Gently grabbing the girl by the shoulders to keep her upright he muttered an apology before
continuing 
toward Buffy.  He stopped.   Turning back around he looked at the girl he had just bumped, took a
step 
toward her and inhaled deeply.  The smell of hair spray and other hair products were dominant but 
beneath it was the unique smell of Willow.  Angel looked at the girl who was directly in front of him. 
It 
couldn't be Willow.  The hair was darker, she was wearing tailored black linen pants with a form
fitting 
shirt and black suede loafers. 

"Willow?" Angel drew his body back slightly when the girl turned around and the familiar face
confronted 
him, soft layers framing her green eyes. 

"Hi Angel," she said, struggling to control the bags of shopping she was holding.  "Buffy's over there."

"Where have you two been?  Giles was worried sick!" Angel said, still shocked from the change in
her 
appearance. 

"We just wanted to go shopping..." Willow stated frowning at Angel's glowering form. 

"Shopping?  You just left without telling anyone where you were going," Angel sounded like a parent 
scolding a child who had run off. "Giles has been frantic." 

"Doesn't matter, Giles will get over it," said Buffy walking up to them. 

"That's not the point Buffy, anything could have happened to you two." 

"We live on a Hellmouth, 'anything' is an everyday occurrence.  Don't expect us to put our lives on
hold 
for that," Willow stated calmly to Angel before turning her attention to Buffy. "So are you going to get
the 
shoes?" 

"No, they don't have them in my size.  Guess I better call the keeper," Buffy shrugged and started to 
walk towards a payphone to call Giles. 

Willow sat down on a bench to wait.  She shifted slightly as Angel sat next to her.  Sighing she 
rearranged her shopping bags to rest against her legs as Buffy chatted on the phone rolling her eyes at

whatever Giles was saying.  Turning her head she glanced up at Angel, only to find him staring at her. 

"What?" she asked. 

"What what?" Angel asked breaking his gaze. 

"You were staring," she stated. 

"Uh, no I wasn't," he denied. 

"Yes you were.  Or would you perhaps prefer to call it gazing, gaping, gawking, ogling or watching? 
Take your pick - because you were definitely doing it." Willow said with a hint of laughter in her
voice and 
a small smile on her lips.  "It's rude to stare and you should know that, especially at your advanced 
years." 

"You changed your hair," Angel said. 

"Oh my god," Willow's face crumpled, one hand reached up to tug at the dark red locks. "Nobody
told 
me that!" 

Angel watched as she laughed at her own dramatics and couldn't help but laugh with her. 

"You are becoming a master at stating the obvious.  I wanted a change. So," she shook her head, 
causing her hair to fly about her face.  "Do you like it?" 

"It's..." Angel looked at her flushed face, smiling lips and sparkling eyes.  She was happy with it, with 
herself, it was the first time in weeks that she actually looked comfortable.  "It's really nice, very you."

"Well flattery will get you everywhere," she laughed again as Buffy came over. 

"What's so funny?" she asked. 

"Angel likes my hair," Willow giggled. 

"Well he'll like what I bought much better," said Buffy smiling wickedly.  "Giles said there's no point 
researching tonight - he's with someone, or something, or whatever, he doesn't want us there.  But
we 
have to go tomorrow, straight after classes! So...now what do we do?" 

"I have no idea," said Willow as Buffy sat down next to Angel on the bench. 

"I could model what I bought?" suggested Buffy, smiling at Angel, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 
"My clothes, if you like, back at the mansion." 

"Great idea and Willow can show me what she bought," said Angel looking at the redhead whose
eyes 
widened in horror at the thought. 

"Oh no, you two go - let Buffy model, she's much better suited to it.  I think I might just head on
home, 
you know catch up on those classes I missed," Willow stood up and started to gather her bags. 
Angel 
reached out and took several of them from her. 

"Nonsense we'd love your company.  Buffy can model what she bought...it'll be fun," Angel said,
unaware 
that Buffy was shaking her head behind him and mouthing 'no'. 

"Oh, that's really nice of you to offer, but I can't - like I said I have homework to do," Willow smiled
trying 
to take back the bags.  He firmly held on to them. 

"What are you going to do?  Go home to an empty house?  Come with us, Buffy has to patrol later
and I 
can walk you home then," Angel turned and began walking towards the exit.  Willow pulled a 'what
now?' 
face at Buffy as they followed the departing vampire. 

"I'm sorry Buffy," Willow whispered as they walked behind Angel.  Buffy just smiled and shrugged. 

"It's okay, I have to patrol so we can spend some time together then," she looped her arm through 
Willow's as they walked along.  "Anyway, like he said we love your company."  Buffy looked at the 
vampire walking in front of them.  "And this way I get to watch his ass." 

The girls broke into a fit of giggles. 

"I heard that," growled Angel as he moved through the door of the mansion. 

"Outfit number one coming up." Giggled Buffy taking her bags into Angel's bedroom to change. 

Willow sat down on the huge leather couch and picked up one of the many books that were
scattered 
about.  It was Nietzsche's "Thus Spoke Zarathustra".  Glancing at the other books scattered about
she 
noted a few novels by Camus and Sartre.  <Trust Angel to be into the whole existentialist
movement!  No 
wonder he is so good at the brood thing.> 

"Thanks for inviting me," Willow said as she flicked through the Nietzsche. 

"Not a problem. You shouldn't be by yourself, especially with your parents gone," Angel said leaning 
back against the fireplace to watch her. 

Willow looked up at him.  She hadn't mentioned that her parents were absent  Although it wasn't
unusual 
for them to be away and Angel would have noticed the lack of lights in the house the previous
evening 
when he'd walked her home.  Willow gave him a half smile.  "He was mad you know?" 

Angel gave her a puzzled look. "What?" 

"Nietzsche.  Syphilis," Willow said holding up the book.  "Scary thought - one of the great genius of
our 
times, the father of existential philosophy, was in fact quite insane.  Maybe it's the madness we find 
inspiring and not the intelligence?" 

Willow suddenly found herself staring into Angel's dark eyes, into the soul of the complex man who 
stood before her.  Everything that he was could be found there and Willow could see it all.  Guilt, 
innocence, anger, serenity, hatred, love, fear, loathing, wanting, obsession, madness - all the states of 
mind and emotion you could imagine were visible in the deep pools of colour.  The intensity of the
gaze 
was hypnotic and she felt truly frightened by what she saw but the arrival of Buffy in a micro mini
allowed 
her to pull away, to pull back from him. 

"Outfit number one!"  announced Buffy, holding her hands up so that the skirt rose even higher and
her 
knickers were clearly visible. 

The next hour was spent with the girls "modelling" their various purchases, giggling at each other, 
teasing Angel and doing typical things that most normal teenagers take for granted.  With the need to 
patrol, Buffy reluctantly changed and started out.  Angel walked Willow home, bidding her goodnight

before disappearing into the night. 

On her arrival home Willow spent the rest of the evening fooling around on the net, checking emails, 
sending emails and waiting.  Waiting for someone who never showed up. 

*** 

"I don't believe this," Buffy stated slamming her book shut.  "Hours and hours of research and what
for? 
Nothing, a big fat zero." 

"Yes, I have to agree with you Buffy," Giles said, pushing away his volume and glancing at the group 
gathered around the table.  "There are no prophecies, legends or anything vis-à-vis fire that could 
possibly concern Spike.  I believe we may have been too eager in our assumptions regarding
Drusilla's 
knowledge." 

"Great, so she was just doing the usual 'I'm a raving ho' hear me roar bit.  What now?"  Buffy sniped.

"Well, I don't think we can do anymore tonight.  You might as well go home." Giles stated, picking
up 
the scattered books from the table. 

"Home?" Buffy frowned. "Nine o'clock on Friday night and you are suggesting we go home?  I am
putting 
forward another proposal - The Bronze?" 

"Oh, I don't know Buffy.  I think I might just go home." Stated Willow, pushing back the layers of
hair that 
framed her face, only to have them fall back again. 

"I'm sorry Willow," Buffy said, a look of concern crossing her face as she realised that Oz and the
band 
would be playing.  "I didn't even think about...well we could go somewhere else.  What about ice
cream?" 

"No, honestly Buffy it's okay.  Go to The Bronze and have a good time.  I'm tired and I just want to
go 
home."  Willow insisted smiling at Buffy.  It was true, she hadn't really slept since that first night she
had 
gotten back. 

"Well we'll walk you home then," said Angel. 

"No, no, I'll be fine, you two should go and enjoy yourselves."  Willow said, gathering up her things. 
Angel took her backpack from her. 

"We'll walk you home and then we can go out after," Angel glanced at Buffy.  "Right Buffy?" 

"Yeah," Buffy said quietly, Angel seemed so protective of Willow lately; it tore at her.  He had spent 
more time with Willow in the past three nights than he had with her.  Last night he didn't even help out

with her patrol, saying that there was something he needed to do.  But at least tonight they would be 
spending some time together.  "We'll walk you home." 

Bidding Giles goodnight after Buffy asked him to tell Xander of their plans when he got back from the
now 
useless donut run, the threesome headed out into the dark night, Angel walking between the two girls,

making their conversation somewhat difficult so the walk was made in silence.  That was until
vampires 
attacked them. 

"Willow," Buffy said quietly as she took up her fighting stance warily eying the 6 vampires starting to 
circle them. "Run now!" 

Willow didn't have to be told; she was already backing away when the fighting started.  Her eyes
widened 
in horror as a vampire dashed towards her. Biting her bottom lip she stood her ground her hands
bawled 
into fists before her.  She scrunched her face up and waited for the vamp to attack. All of a sudden
he 
stopped, looked at her closely, raised his hands in the air and turned back to the main fight. 

<Well I must just look like a person not to be fooled with.> thought Willow in surprise.  <Must be
the 
hair.  Gee Cordelia was right maybe I should listen to her more oft...> 

Her thoughts were shattered as an arm wrapped around her waist, firmly trapping her arms to her
sides, 
and another hand covered her mouth.  She was pulled back into a hard body before being dragged 
backwards, away from the brawling vampires and the turned backs of her friends. 

Struggling violently she kicked out against her kidnapper, tears of rage and fear welling in her eyes. 
The 
strangle hold on her body tightened making it impossible for her to move.  With all the strength she
could 
muster she flung her head back colliding with her attackers with an almighty crack.  It achieved
nothing 
other than leaving her with a throbbing ache. 

"Come on pet you are going to damage us both if you keep this up." 

Part 18 a 
  

<Spike?> Willow knew the voice, knew the body, knew the scent - but why the hell was he dragging
her 
off in the middle of the night? "Shmphycke?" 

"What?" he spun her around before releasing his hold. 

"Spike?" she repeated the question in dazed confusion. 

"You've forgotten me already?" he pouted at her.  "And here I am thinking I was special." 

His laugh rumbled through his chest as he grabbed her hand and started to lead her away into the
night. 

"What are you doing?" Willow pulled away from him.  Spike stopped and turned to look at her. 
"What 
Friday night rolls around and your bored so you need a distraction?" 

"I wanted to see you pet," he stated simply. 

"See me? So you arrange a little kidnapping?  You know you have an invitation to my house," she
said, 
irritation creeping into her voice.  She didn't know whether to throw herself at him or slap him.  "I
mean 
this, although a brilliant way to literally sweep a girl off her feet, isn't necessary." 

"It was the only way I could get to you." 

"I'm not here at your beck and call you know.  I have a life.  You have no business coming and
dragging 
me away just because you're bored." 

"Life?  And what exactly were you going to do tonight Willow?" he purred at her, tilting his head to
the 
side.  "Going out with your friends? Hmm?  Come on, they were walking you home where they
would 
leave you by yourself.  Alone.  If that's what you want...fine." 

He turned and started to walk away. 

"Two nights and nothing," she said quietly to herself.  He stopped.  "Not a word, nothing.  Do you
know 
how I felt?" 

Slowly he turned to face her once more.  "I like your hair." 

Looking at him she shook her head slightly and dropped her eyes to the pavement.  He moved in
front of 
her and cupped her chin with his finger to make her look at him. 

"Brings out your eyes," he said thoughtfully as he ran his thumb across her lips.  "Come with me?" 

She nodded her acceptance and entwined her fingers in his. 

*** 

Willow looked at the quiet alleyway Spike was leading her into.  They were in the heart of
Sunnydale, in 
an area that had been the "good" part of town a few decades back.  Now the older style buildings
that 
were once offices and apartments were largely vacant.  A few were still used for their original
purposes 
some had been changed into recording studios and storage areas while others were just abandoned
after 
their owners had passed on. 

"What are we doing here?"  Willow asked as Spike pulled her into a dark doorway illuminated only
by an 
electronic keypad that was next to a huge door. 

"Enter the year you were born then the hash key," he whispered in her ear.  Once the number was 
entered the sound of a bolt moving backwards rang through the quiet night air. Spike leant forward, 
twisted the doorknob and walked Willow into a small entrance area that was dimly lit.  He stopped
them 
in front of elevator doors and another keypad.  "Do it again pet." 

The doors silently opened and Spike pushed Willow in before pressing the up arrow.  Leaning back 
against the wall he watched as she fiddled quietly while the lift made the short journey.  The doors
once 
more opened and he smiled at the sound of Willow's gasp. Taking her hand he led her out onto the
polish 
wooden floor of the apartment.  He turned her captured hand over letting his thumb caress the palm
and 
he couldn't help but smile as her fingers curled around his thumb. 

"Fancy it love?" he asked, carefully watching her.  It was priceless.  Her eyes were wide in shock,
her 
mouth was open and her cheeks were flushed.  She was staring directly ahead of her and hadn't even

taken in anything else. 

It was a piano.  A baby grand piano with its top open.  It wasn't one of the new black woods so
shiny it 
hurts kind - it was a golden brown wood, it could have been walnut, but that wasn't important.  It
was a 
piano that had been crafted by skills that had been lost a good century ago.  Beyond the piano was
an 
archway, framed by a myriad of stained glass, which opened into a dining room with a long table, the 
chairs of which rested in the corners of the room a few scattering about the table.  At the end of the 
table, furtherest from Willow, was a laptop computer sitting on a bed of felt.  As her eyes drew away
from 
that first view she started to take in other details of her surroundings.  The floors were polished
wood, 
dark timbers with lighter golds and reds working patterns.  Huge bay windows were to her left, deep 
burgundy and purple curtains were pulled away leaving the windows bare as they stretched from
floor to 
ceiling.  Turning away from the windows Willow glanced about the room they were in.  It was huge,
not 
just in width and length but also in height.  Three sofas littered the floor, although they were large they

looked tiny in relation to the room, two wing chairs and footrests kept them company.  Again they
were 
made from similar colours as the curtains, deep rich burgundy and purples.  Nestled amongst the
semi 
circle they made was a low wooden chest on castors masquerading as a coffee table. 

Willow walked away from Spike, her hand slowly breaking free from his caress, as she moved
deeper 
into the room.  The change of position let her take in a large entertainment unit set into the wall, made
of 
similar wood to the floor, it held a large screen TV, video and top of the range stereo system.  A
number 
of CDs were arranged on some of the shelves.  She ran her hands along the soft material of the wing 
chair she was clinging to. 

"Fancy it love?" Spike stepped in behind her as he repeated the question. 

"What is this place?  Is this where you live?"  Willow didn't look at him; she was too busy scanning
the 
area.  Another archway the same as the one separating the dining room was at the other end of this 
massive room.  Idly she wondered what was beyond that stain glass archway.  The soft rumble of his

voice distracted her thoughts. 

"It's yours Willow," he purred her name. 

"What?!" she asked astonished.  Lifting her hand to his lips he kissed it gently before leading her into
the 
semi circle of furniture.  He walked away from her for a moment to turn the stereo on so music softly 
played. 

"Do you like it?  It has everything you ever wanted," he said quietly, walking back to her and
capturing 
her hand.  She looked around the room again, this time noticing huge wrought iron candlestick
holders in 
each of the four corners of the room.  They were fully stocked with candles but not lit.  The room,
the 
furniture, everything was as she had described to Spike in New Orleans.  But there were things, such
as 
the older style piano and the wooden floors, which she had really never thought of until now.  "It's
yours, 
a place to come when you need to be alone.  When you want to escape.  Somewhere to be you." 

Willow stood in stunned silence. Her eyes searching his face, trying to gain some understanding of
what 
he had said. 

"Why?" she asked softly. 

Spike looked at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips.  "Why what pet?" 

"Why are you doing this?" she asked outright.  Biting her bottom lip in frustration she wrenched her
hand 
out of his grasp and took a few steps away from him.  "What do you want from me?" 

"I don't want anything from you, pet.  Nothing that you haven't already given to me." He stated calmly

holding out his hand to her.  "Come on, don't you want to see the rest?" 

Spike grinned and cockily raised an eyebrow.  Sighing Willow took his offered hand.  She was sick
of 
him answering her questions with replies that told her nothing.  As they walked through the second 
archway she scowled and practiced shooting imaginary stakes at his back. She didn't see the room
they 
were heading for until they stopped at the base of a few stairs and he stepped aside. 

"Oh my," she exclaimed.  Before her was a bedroom, a bedroom her wildest fantasies couldn't have 
provided.  A huge wrought iron four poster bed was set up in the middle of the room, a deep green
and 
gold silk organza canopy framed the bed and continued to wrap loosely around each of the posts to
form 
a pool of colour about the base, a deep green damask quilt covered the bed and a horde of pillows
were 
built up at the bed head which was wrought iron worked into a design of entwined roses. Either side
of 
the bed was a small table with the same design as the bed. 

Walking up the three steps Willow took in the rest of the room.  In each corner there were wrought
iron 
candlestick holders each framed by mirrors worked in the same fashion of the stained glass
archways. 
Two squat lounge chairs sat either side of the stairs.  As she moved into the room she caught sight of
an 
open doorway leading into a huge bathroom worked with deep green marble and gold trimmings. 
Another 
door led off the room but was closed.  Walking over she opened it to reveal a huge walk in closet
that 
was full of clothes.  The type of clothes she had recently bought.  She turned back to look at Spike
who 
was still standing at the base of the steps.  Smiling he turned and started to walk away. 

"Spike?" Willow questioned, shutting the closet door and moving to follow him.  By the time she
caught 
up with him he was back at the elevator. 

"There's a security system, the codes are written down for you.  You'll be perfectly safe here." He 
handed her a piece of paper before reaching out to the button for the lift.  Willow grabbed his arm to
stop 
him. 

"Where are you going?" she asked 

"It's yours, you are free to come and go.  I'll only come here if you want me to." 

"But why are you leaving?" she asked. 

His only answer was to reach out towards the button again.  She grabbed his hand. 

"Please Spike, don't leave me alone," she begged him.  "Stay with me?" 

"Do you really want me to Willow?" he asked softly his blue eyes piercing hers. 

Anger flashed through her.  Releasing his hand she turned away from him confused and frustrated. 

"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't." she stated walking away.  She stopped in front of the
entertainment 
unit pretending to be interested in the CD's stacked there.  Glancing at Spike she rationalised it was 
early for him; he probably had things to do and just wanted to leave.  "Go, it doesn't matter what I
want." 

She closed her eyes and listened to the music that was softly playing, she could feel the tears welling 
up behind those closed eyes. Silently she vowed that she would wait until after he left, then she would

leave and never come back again.  No matter how much she liked the apartment.  Or the idea of her
own 
sanctuary.  Or the freedom it offered.  Or the mere fact that Spike had done it all for her.  She was 
kidding herself.  Even if she never saw him again she would value this gift forever and at that moment
she 
hated him for it. 

"Dance with me?"  It was quiet, a mere echo of a whisper and Willow wasn't even sure she heard it. 
But 
there was no doubting the feel of his hands making their way down her arms to take her hands. 
Opening 
her eyes she swallowed back her tears as he pulled her into his arms and led her out in a waltz. 
Revelling in the movement and feel of the dance, Willow forgot everything for the moment.  She let
her 
fingers trace small circles on the leather of his duster and he pulled her closer and slowed their 
movements to a rocking motion.  Laying her head against his shoulder she rocked with him, enjoying
the 
feel of his body, of his hand caressing her back, his cheek resting against her head.  It was nice, it
was 
comfortable but she wanted more. 

Slowly she tilted her head back to capture his lips.  It was a hesitant kiss, she didn't know if it was
what 
he wanted, but it was what she needed.  She let the tip of her tongue trace the lines of his lips. 
Smiling 
she felt him open his mouth for her, his own tongue darting out to meet hers.  She pulled back from
him, 
the smile still playing on her lips.  She bought her hand up to caress his face, her fingers running
across 
his mouth.  Leaning forward she let her mouth hover a few millimetres from his again she darted out
her 
tongue and then pulled back as he tried to claim her mouth. 

She giggled.  He growled lightly and she raised her eyebrows as she ran her hands along his chest. 
Pushing at his duster she forced it back off his shoulders and down his arms as he released her for a 
moment.  As the duster fell to the floor his arms wrapped back around her and she sighed.  Leaning 
forward she caught his lips, no teasing flicks of her tongue, just a demand that he willing responded
to. 
His hand tangled in her hair as their tongues danced together, his other hand pressed in the small of
her 
back urging her impossibly closer.  Willow finally pulled back from the kiss and rested her head
against 
his shoulder again as they continued to slowly move together. 

"Spike, stay with me?" she whispered, almost frightened that he would say no. 

"For eternity, Willow." 

She smiled against his shoulder.  Running her hand along his back she delighted in the feel of his 
muscles moving.  Lifting her head up she again sought his lips, the sweet taste of his tongue and 
mouth.  She let her hands wander to his chest, rubbing at the material of his shirts, before letting one 
hand drop down to his jeans.  He sighed into her mouth and pushed against her hand as her fingers 
brushed teasingly against his growing erection. 

Smiling she pulled back from him, breaking all contact and stepped out of his arms.  "Do you want
me?" 

"Always Willow." 

Grinning wickedly she slowly began to inch away from him.  Smirking he strode forward to take her
only 
to have Willow squeal and dash away from him to head toward the bedroom.  She had reached the 
archway when she felt Spikes arm encircle her waist, the other grabbed her knees and lifted her up. 
Giggling in delight she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him softly on the lips before 
feathering kisses along his jaw and neck as he carried her to the bedroom.  He tossed her onto the 
centre of the bed, his hands ripping her shoes off before sitting down on the edge to take off his own.

Watching him carefully Willow began to move back on the bed.  She gasped when she felt one of his

hands grab her ankle.  He turned around and smiled at her before standing up and taking off his
shirts. 
Willow sighed as his chest was bared to her; she loved the paleness of it, the pink hard nipples. 

With his smile still in place Spike began to crawl up the bed. Willow giggled again and moved back
to 
prop herself up on the vast mountain of pillows. Pushing her knees apart he crawled between them
and 
up over her body before he claimed her mouth in a hard and demanding kiss, his tongue seeking hers
to 
dance.  Willow's hands held him to her she wanted to loose herself in him.  He broke the kiss and
pulled 
her top off, dropping his head to suckle first one nipple then the other, thoroughly saturating the silk
of 
her bra.  Moaning lightly she pushed herself into his mouth, one hand holding his head to her while the

other was kneading his back.  She wrapped a leg around him, their hips had started moving against
each 
other, thrusting gently, hinting at what was to come.  She was loosing sense of time and everything, all

she cared about were the sensations he was creating.  Rolling her head back she groaned loudly as
her 
bra was tossed aside and fingers delved into the wet material of her knickers.  Fumbling blindly her 
hands found the zipper and button of his jeans and easily freed his hard erection.  She began to
stroke 
him firmly in imitation of the rhythm his fingers were teasing her with. 

"Willow," he rumbled as he buried his face in her neck.  Suddenly he pulled back off her causing her
to 
whimper in protest.  Freeing himself of his jeans he ripped off Willow's skirt and nickers in one swift 
movement.  Pausing for a moment he drank in her naked body, his eyes taking in every detail. 
Willow 
began to tremble under that gaze, she felt like she was on fire.  "Do you want me?" 

Spike repeated her earlier question. 

"Always Spike." Willow said. 

Grinning he made his way up her body, tracing a path with his tongue before taking her mouth with a 
bruising kiss.  Willow shifted beneath him impatiently, wrapping her legs about him and writhed
against 
him, frustrated.  Just as she was about to beg he thrust deep inside her making her gasp.  There was 
nothing tender about this.  It was hard and animalistic and Willow loved it.  Over and over again he
would 
thrust deep and hard into her.  She was clinging to him, her own hips undulating to meet the thrusts,
her 
pale body soon became slick with sweat and her nails dug deeply into his back leaving deep
scratches 
and welts.  Screaming his name Willow came. 

Gasping for breath she was still riding the high of her orgasm.  Everything seemed strange and numb. 
Something was calling to her.  Her mind seemed to be in a stupor.  She could feel Spike fucking her
and 
was aware from his erratic movements that he was close.  She was wrapped tightly about him, her
legs 
and arms.  Dragging her fingers down his back she turned her head, lowered her mouth and bit into
his 
shoulder, hard and deep. 

"Fuck!" he hissed, as he slammed them into the bed head.  His arm around Willow's waist protected
her 
from the force of the blow and she continued to draw his blood, unaware of the effect it was having
on 
him.  With a final thrust he came, moaning her name.  His free hand stroked her hair as he eased them

lower on the bed. 

Willow began to feel light headed, her legs fell away from him and her arms, although still wrapped 
around him, loosened their hold.  She could hear him growling softly.  The taste of his blood flooded
her 
mouth and she realised that she had bitten him, realised that she was still biting him, realised that she 
couldn't let go. Through the haze of confusion she heard him calling to her. 

"Willow, that's enough." Spike murmured pulling her hair lightly.  Shifting lightly Spike continued to 
stroke her hair, his fingers brushing across her face and her closing eyes.  "Go to sleep love." 

Part 18b 

Drusilla watched from the shadows as Angel dusted yet another bloodied and beaten vampire.  Long
ago 
he had left Buffy at her house and was now going on a personal crusade. 

"Why Angel," Drusilla whispered stepping in front of the dark vampire.  "Such passion...such 
destruction...you really don't know your own strength...or weakness." 

"Drusilla," Angel hissed through clenched teeth, his anger and frustration rising. 

"Lost something love?" she sung at him.  "Of course you can't loose something you never had..." 

"What do you want?" he growled. 

"You use to promise me the world," Drusilla smiled at him before dropping her gaze to his chest, one 
pale hand reaching out to stroke him.  "You were always so full of promises..." 

"Dru I..." Angel words died as Drusilla bought a dagger across his face, cutting deep along his 
cheekbone before continuing it's downward journey, dragging across his chest shoved in to the hilt, 
thankfully it wasn't a large blade.  He gasped in shock, clutching at his chest and forcefully pushing
her 
away. "Dru!" 

She dropped the dagger and lunged at him, knocking him flat on his back before straddling him, her
hand 
and dainty fingers clutching at the blood pouring from the wound.  Fascinated by the dark flow of rich

blood that was soiling his shirt, she rocked on top of him, her mouth open practically drooling at the 
smell of his blood. 

"Oh Angel," she sighed, bringing her fingers up to examine the blood staining them.  She twisted her 
hand, flexing the fingers, hypnotised by the sight of her sire's blood.  "So beautiful...you promised me 
your heart...can I collect now?" 

Angel struggled beneath her, his strength seeping away with his blood.  She giggled, wriggling around 
and licked the tip of a bloodied finger. 

"Too late...you never had one to give," she ran her hand back along the bloodied cut, covering her
hand 
with the cold blood.  "Remember Angel?  When you first gave me this?" she licked her palm
savouring 
the taste.  "You'd taken me then, marked me, claimed me...you wanted me..." 

"Dru what are you doing? I'm sorry..." 

"Shush...can't you hear it?" she asked frantically twisting her head away from her sire's face, listening
to 
the surrounding night.  Taking the opportunity of the distraction Angel rolled from beneath her,
throwing 
her aside before unsteadily standing, his hands clutching at the gaping wound in his chest. 

"Hear what?" he whispered, trying to gather his wits. 

"Everything's echoing...repeating..." Drusilla drew herself up on her knees, rocking back and forth
holding 
her bloodied hands in front of her face. 

"What's repeating?" 

"Everything, the words, the motions..." she let out a strangled cry and twisted her bloodied fingers.
The 
cry turned into laughter as she looked at Angel.  "You're too late, my love. Claims been made.  What

was never yours never will be...blood you can't break, bonds too strong." 

Angel's eyes widened in horror at what she was saying, for once he wished he had Spike's 
understanding of the madwoman kneeling at his feet, the woman he had created. Dropping to his
knees 
he tangled his fist in her dark locks, harshly pulling her head back. 

"What are you talking about?  Where's Spike?" he demanded. 

"Spike...Spike...Spike?"  She began to giggle low in her throat.  "The fires been lit, burning..." she 
bought her hands to hover above his chest, her face crumpling into a frown.  "Oh...oh, you...burn
too...not 
for me though, not like you use to...no slayer either...not for you this time..." 

Frustration built up and he cracked his fisted hand against her temple, sending her crashing to the 
ground, she let out a muffled cry before the soft laughter returned. 

"You've lost what you never had," she giggled crawling to her feet.  Twisting her fingers in her gown,
she 
started to whimper.  "You've no heart, Angel." 

Cursing under his breath he watched her retreating figure.  Forcing himself to stand he staggered
away 
into the night. 

*** 

Willow stretched her arm across the coolness of silk.  Sighing she opened her eyes to find herself 
wrapped up in light gold silk sheets that rippled across the vast emptiness of the bed.  Rolling onto
her 
back she twisted her head to look in the opposite direction, that side of the bed was also empty, and
her 
eyes wandered to the canopy. Spreading her arms out she smiled a half smile at her inability to touch 
either side of the bed. Loosing herself in the gold twirls scattered through the green of the canopy of
her 
bed she wondered where Spike was.  Since he wasn't in the bed she assumed he had left.  The last 
thing she remembered was Spike telling her to sleep, he must have put her to bed and turned off the 
lights - the room was in semi darkness, a soft light was creeping up from the lounge room.  Curling
her 
legs she bought her hands up to rest near her head as she continued her study of the canopy. 

The faint smell of cigarette smoke wafted into the room causing Willow to sit up, pulling the sheet
about 
her.  She could see light flickering beyond the archway, casting coloured and distorted shadows into
the 
alcove and bedroom.  Crawling to the end of the bed she picked up Spike's abandoned shirt and
pulled it 
on as she quietly walked to the archway.  The candles had been lit and the lounge area was bathed in

soft multi-coloured light, the yellow flames of the candles were reflected on various coloured mirrors 
casting soft colours about the room. Hiding behind the archway she snuck a peak around the corner
to 
see Spike at the end of the room, resting an arm against the window and smoking a cigarette. 

Taking the opportunity Willow watched him.  He was naked except for his snug fitting jeans, which 
cupped his ass and upper thighs, and his forehead was resting against his arm.  The cigarette was
held 
between long pale fingers and was regularly being lifted to his mouth then dropped back down,
causing 
the muscles in his back and shoulders to flex, rippling the faint colours that fell across his pale flesh. 
His shoulder held her bite mark, slight bruising, punctured flesh but it was already healing.  Bringing
her 
fingers up to her lips she felt them tingle at the memory of that bite, of his taste.  Smiling lightly she 
continued to watch, wishing he hadn't put on his jeans, she liked to see him naked, liked to see his
pale 
muscular flesh.  She wondered at him still being there, he must have things to do, people to drain and
of 
course...Drusilla.  There was an interesting concept.  Why was he here when the love of his life was
in 
Sunnydale? 

"What are you thinking about love?"  Willow jumped at the sound of his voice. 

"How did you..." 

Spike turned and smirked at her.  "I always know where you are." 

Willow blushed and walked over to him, encircling his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. 

"I'd thought you'd left," said Willow, she ran her fingers softly over his stomach loving the way his 
muscles tightened under her touch. 

"Nah, just having a smoke," he moved slightly, his arm snaking around her shoulders. 

"Have I been asleep long?" 

"About an hour," he ran his thumb across the dark shadows under her eye and traced the line of her 
cheek.  "You're tired, you need to get some sleep." 

Willow shrugged.  It was true, she hadn't really slept since that first night when they got back, but it 
didn't seem important. 

"You don't have to stay, you know...I mean if you have things to do..." she faltered under his gaze. 
"If 
you are expected somewhere else..." 

He kissed her forehead.  "I have nowhere to be Willow.  No one is waiting on me except you." 

"What about Drusilla?" Willow felt him tense in her arms; he raised his cigarette and took a drag
before 
breaking the embrace.  He walked a few steps away to an ashtray and stubbed out his butt. 

"What about her?" he asked quietly. 

Willow stood for a moment.  She wasn't really sure of what she was expecting - certainly not a
question. 
Nor such a nonchalant attitude, perhaps anger, perhaps bitterness, but not this. 

"What about the wolf?" he asked leaning back against the pillar that separated the windows.  His
voice 
was flat and unemotional as was his face. 

"We broke up," Willow crossed her arms and looked out the window to the city lit night sky.  "I'm
not 
seeing him anymore." 

"Well," Spike drawled, moving behind her, his arms circling her waist his chin resting on her head. 
"Drusilla isn't seeing me anymore...she hasn't for the longest time..." 

Willow frowned, his voice had dropped to a whisper at those words and his fingers moved to
entwine with 
hers.  She leant back against him, enjoying the cool firmness of his body, and let her thumbs trace 
patterns on his wrists. 

"I think you look better in my shirt than I do," he murmured against her ear as he licked it and nibbled
on 
the lobe.  She giggled lightly. His mouth moved from her ear to her neck, savouring the warm flesh
before 
nuzzling the material away to bare her shoulder. 

Closing her eyes Willow concentrated on the cool softness of his mouth grazing her skin, she sighed 
contentedly.  All was right with the world, she was here with Spike and Buffy... 

"Oh my God!  Buffy!" screeched Willow, twisting out of Spike's embrace. 

"Erm, actually Spike...but if you want to scream her name," Spike smirked at her before frowning. 
"Actually it would really put me off my stroke." 

Willow rolled her eyes in disgust.  "No, she's fighting vampires." 

"She's a slayer that's what she does," he shrugged. 

"She'll be worried about me.  Oh god I have to go."  Willow said starting to walk back toward the 
bedroom.  Spike grabbed her arm. 

"Willow, you don't have to go," 

"Yes I do, what if she's been trying to contact me?  Hmm?  What then?  I just say 'oh sorry I was off 
having fantastic sex with my lover - who just happens to be your enemy'?" Willow asked raising her 
eyebrows in question. 

"Your lover? So you are going to keep me then?" Spike smirked, burying his head in her neck and 
kissing her pulse point. 

"Oh, yes...yes, no question there..." Willow said relaxing back into his embrace before pushing him 
away again.  "But not lover now - I have to go, they'll be worried." 

"They'll be hours Willow," he said pulling her struggling form back against him.  "At least have a bath 
before we go." 

"A bath?"  Willow repeated.  What was a bath?  Just a little longer, wasn't going to make that much 
difference. 

"A bath pet," Spike grinned as he picked her up and carried her off to the bathroom. 

Some two hours later they were walking toward Willow's house.  She felt like she could crawl into
bed 
and sleep for hours, which was exactly what she was planning to do.  The bathroom was like the rest
of 
the apartment.  Deep green marble with gold trimming the soft lighting of the room had the effect of 
making her feel she was underwater.  The bathroom held everything a normal one would, a bath (to
huge 
to believe), a shower (with surround spray), toilet and a bidet (something she was sure she would
never 
use, mainly because she didn't have the faintest idea how to).  She was surprised by the little extra's 
scattered about the place - bottles of shampoos and conditioners, hairdryer, brushes, toothbrushes, 
toothpaste, a bottle of the massage oil she had obtained in New Orleans as well as a large jar of the 
balm.  The bath had been a strange mixture of foreplay, sex and talking.  Willow almost forgot why
she 
wanted to leave.  Almost. 

"I'll let you go love," Spike stopped a few houses down from hers.  He captured her lips in a
goodbye 
kiss. 

"Aren't you going to walk me to the door?" Willow asked bemused. 

"Nah, I want to watch your ass as you walk away," he joked, searching through his pockets for his 
cigarettes, before sobering up.  "Not a good idea - don't want to upset your guardian angel." 

"What?" Willow frowned at him.  Spike smiled as he lit a smoke. 

"Go get some sleep Willow," he took a long drag.  "I'll see you tonight, about 10." 

Willow nodded and walked away from him, smiling as she felt his gaze on her.  Once inside her
house 
she made her way through the darkness to her room.  The answering machine showed no messages
and 
she picked up the phone to call Buffy. 

"Where have you been?" 

Willow jumped, dropping the phone.  "Angel?" 

"Where have you been?" he repeated the question, his voice low.  Willow squinted in the darkness, 
trying to make out his figure.  She could see his shape, sitting near the open French doors.  Turning 
slightly she reached out to flick on the light. 

"Angel what are you doing here?" She asked turning back to him.  She stopped dead in her tracks. 
He 
was sitting on her computer chair, his face bloodied.  Rushing over she knelt down in front of him. 
"Oh 
my God, Angel, what happened? Are you okay?  Is Buffy okay?" 

"Where have you been Willow?" Angel repeated the question as he grasped her wrist with enough
force 
to cause her to cringe. 

"Angel, you're hurting me," she whimpered, trying to pull her wrist away from him.  "I went to a
friends, it 
was closer than coming here." 

His eyes searched her face for a moment and she thought he was going to denounce her for the liar
she 
was.  Why wouldn't he?  He had smelt Spike before, so he would do it again, she was just waiting
for 
him to fly into a fit of rage.  His temper, his outbursts were beginning to scare her - they were too
intense 
and she didn't understand the meaning of them. 

"Willow I'm sorry," he seemed dazed, his usually steady voice was trembling and faint. "It's just
after...I 
couldn't find you, I didn't know what had happened.  I thought I'd lost you." 

"It's alright Angel, I'm fine.  What about Buffy?" 

"She's at home, she's okay," he lied, she had taken a beating but with slayer healing by the morning 
only a few bruises and stiff muscles would remain. 

"What happened to you Angel?" Willow asked, looking at the long deep cut on his face, wondering if
this 
was a result of the run in with the vampires. 

"I came to check on you and you weren't here," he grimaced as she bought her hand up to his face. 
"I 
tried to find you...guess you could say I ran into some trouble." 

Willow felt guilty, she shouldn't have gone with Spike, or she should have rung and left a message to
say 
she was okay.  Angel wouldn't have been hurt, wouldn't have gone looking for her.  She dropped her

eyes, no longer able to stand looking at what she had caused, only to see his hand held against his 
chest covered in blood.  Her eyes flew open in horror. 

"Oh God, Angel.  You're hurt," she pulled his hand away to reveal his shredded shirt and bleeding
chest. 
Standing up she pulled on his arm.  "We have to get you fixed up." 

He stood up, swaying slightly and worked his arm around her shoulder.  Willow supported him as
best 
she could with her arm about his waist and led him over to sit on her bed.  Silently she tugged off his 
jacket and shirt, wincing at the large bloody gash on his chest.  Bruises littered his chest and
abdomen, 
a brief glance at his back showed similar injuries. 

"Are you cut anywhere else?" she asked quietly.  Her only answer was a shake of his head. She
urged 
him to lie back on her bed.  "Stay here, I need to get a few things and I'll be back." 

Before leaving her room she shut the French doors and locked them, pulling her heavy curtains
across. 
By the time she had retrieved the first aid kit from the bathroom, a bowl of warm water, towels and 
washers Angel was unconscious.  Sighing she set down her supplies and started to clean away the 
congealed and dried blood from his wounds.  They were deep, although they had stop bleeding; she
had 
put an antiseptic wash in the water even though she knew he couldn't pick up an infection.  Once the 
wounds were cleaned she set about using the small butterfly plasters to close them up.  During the 
whole time she only thought about what she was doing - she didn't want to think of anything else,
didn't 
want to think about what could have happened to Angel.  Finishing, she admired her handiwork
before 
removing his shoes and covering him with a quilt.  Picking up her silk shorts and top she gathered 
everything else up and took it to the bathroom.  Moments later she returned, having changed into her 
sleepwear, checked her curtains once more and turned off the light. 

"Well, you don't breathe so I guess there is no possibility of you snoring at least," muttered Willow as

she crawled into bed next to Angel. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness of her room she 
studied him.  She could understand what Buffy saw in him, he was a truly handsome man...poor
Buffy 
what would she have done had Angel been killed?  Guilt overwhelmed her.  Angel could have died 
because of her, because he was looking for her.  She reached out and ran her fingers lightly through
his 
hair.  "I'm so sorry Angel." 

She smiled as he leant into her touch, his face turning towards her.  Weariness swept over her and
she 
closed her eyes, her hand still cradling his head, her thumb brushing back and forth.  Eventually her 
hand stopped moving as sleep overtook her. 

Angel rolled onto his side and opened his eyes to watch her sleep. 

Part 19 

The doors silently slid open revealing the apartment.  It was different to when they had left in the early

hours of this morning.  Willow stepped out and glanced about.  The curtains had been pulled shut 
blocking out every possibility of the mid morning sunlight entering, but the apartment was dimly lit by
tiny 
slivers of soft light that were set into the edge of the floor.  Frowning Willow thought that maybe
Spike 
had come back here but a quick look about showed the place to be empty, although the bed had
been 
made and their abandoned towels had been put on the racks in the bathroom.  Perfectly content that
she 
was alone in the apartment she began a thorough inspection.  It was better than she had ever
dreamed 
possible - everything was so beautiful and what she wanted down to the last detail. A crystal bowl
sat on 
the coffee table full of Hershey kisses, in the fridge there was Diet Coke and the freezer had a
number of 
crystal wine goblets cooling.  She felt so spoilt drinking her coke out of a chilled crystal glass - but
she 
was more than willing to get use to it. 
  
Coke in hand she made her way back to the bedroom and the closet full of clothes.  As she worked
her 
way through the clothes her thoughts drifted back to this morning.  She had woken a little past six,
her 
curtains were open but the French windows were shut and sunlight bathed the room, alarming her at 
first.  Obviously Angel had left before dawn, otherwise there would be a pile of dust on the floor.  As
she 
was struck by that thought she had sat up on her knees for a better view - just checking that there
wasn't 
any lying near the door - relief flooded her when she saw the clean carpet.  Although still desperately 
tired she couldn't go back to sleep so she had decided to come to the apartment.  The apartment. 
Her 
apartment.  Hers.  She grinned madly as she opened a drawer in the closet to reveal copious pairs of
the 
soft silk and lace lingerie she had taken to wearing lately.  Everything was so soft and delicate - 
beautiful.  The clothes Spike had worn in New Orleans were also there - a subtle blend of leather, 
cigarettes and purely animalistic male aroma impregnated them and made Willow shiver in delight. 
  
Wandering out of the closet she worked her way back out to the kitchen, noting that the apartment, 
although beautiful, had been designed with a vampire in mind.  The only windows in the whole place
were 
those in the living room and dining room and the heavy drapes ensured that no sunlight would
penetrate 
the rooms.  Small lights had been set into the floor, running along each of the walls, so there was soft 
light illuminating the place.  After searching the whole apartment Willow had become acquainted with 
every nook and cranny, she knew where every single light switch and power point was, she knew
what 
each closet, cabinet and cupboard held.  The more she knew about the apartment the more she
loved it. 
  
Refilling her glass with coke she grabbed the laptop and took it out to the lounge area.  She changed
the 
CD in the stereo and sat down crossed legged on a sofa to have a look at the programs.  It had 
everything she had ever used and a few she had always wanted.  Shaking her head in amazement she

opened up the file manager to scroll through the various programs.  That's when she noticed it.  The 
expression of sheer ecstasy fell from her face.  Every program had been installed almost a month ago.

She caught her breath in a sharp gasp.  A month ago.  Slowly she pulled her gaze away from the
small 
screen, scanning the area she was sitting in. There was still the aroma of fresh paint, but it was only 
faint.  She remembered when her parents had repainted the house - it had taken weeks for the smell
of 
paint to fade.  A feeling of dread engulfed her.  Everything in the apartment was new...but not
everything 
could have been purchased in Sunnydale.  The piano, the hand crafted wrought iron, all of it, it would

have taken weeks. Weeks, if not months.  Spike would have been planning this for months, had
people 
working on it for months.  Willow felt her mouth go dry.  With shaking hands she shut down the 
computer and put it on the coffee table.  Again she glanced about the room as a desperate fear
overtook 
her, a feeling of panic, a feeling that she had walked into a carefully planned trap.  Forcing herself to 
move she got up and left. 
  
Willow didn't know how long she had been wandering around in dazed confusion when she found
herself 
on Angel's doorstep.  At first she had gone to Buffy's, only to find the place empty, so it was natural
for 
her to come here.  But now, as she stood there with her hand raised to knock, she hesitated.  What 
would she say to him - hi I've kind of gotten myself in some trouble, it's been going on for weeks and
I 
guess I should have mentioned it before - yes, that would go down well.  She lowered her hand and 
stared at the door.  Her thoughts didn't make sense.  The great debate was waging war within her
mind. 
On one hand Spike was her lover, her demon lover, who had done nothing more than give her a
beautiful 
apartment filled with gifts that were unique to her.  But he had only recently taken on the role of her
lover 
and the details of the apartment meant that he had been watching her getting to know her longer the
time 
he had been with her.  That alone led her to think that he could have been manipulating her the whole 
time, playing with her to get to Buffy and Angel. 
  
"Willow?" her thoughts were interrupted as Buffy opened the door. 
  
"Oh, um hi Buffy." 
  
"What...what are you doing here?" 
  
"Well...I...I...think I'm in trouble.  So, what about you?" Willow gave her a half smile and twisted her 
fingers.  <Great Willow, just ask Buffy what she is doing at her boyfriends place.> 
  
"Are you okay?  What sort of trouble?" asked Buffy still standing in the doorway. 
  
"Just...it's kind of silly really...you know pretty simple stuff...I hope," Willow didn't realise that she
was 
close to hyperventilating. 
  
"I...Angel was attacked last night, I was just going to get him some more blood.  Why don't you
come in 
and wait and we'll talk when I get back.  Okay?" Buffy stepped aside to let Willow in.  She
continued to 
stand on the doorstep. 
  
"Is he okay?" 
  
"Yeah, managed to get himself home and patched up.  He hasn't healed yet, needs more blood thus
the 
mad dash.  Come in, you can keep him company, maybe even change the dressings...silly thing won't

let me near him." Buffy rolled her eyes in exclamation of the general silliness and stubbornness of sick 
males before calling out over her shoulder into the darkness of the mansion.  "Angel, Will's here.  I 
shouldn't be more than half an hour." 
  
Without further ado Buffy caught Willow's wrist and pulled her into the cool confines of the mansion
and 
closed the door with a bang behind her.  Willow waited a moment, her eyes adjusting to the gloom of
the 
interior of Angel's home. 
  
"Willow," Angel spoke softly, standing up and moving a few paces in front of her.  She glanced at
him, 
the wound on his face had partially healed but the deep wound on his chest was still gaping and
weeping 
blood, a couple of the butterfly tapes had broken away. 
  
"Angel you really should..." she caught his gaze and quickly broke it, her eyes falling on the first aid
kit 
that Buffy had previously discarded as Angel protested the need for his wounds to be seen to.  She 
caught his arm and urged him back to the couch.  "Come on, I might as well make myself useful." 
  
"It's fine...honestly," he started to protest only to be cut off by Willow looking at him with her
patented 
resolve face.  She moved forward and slipped her thumbs under the silk of his shirt, pushing it back
and 
off his shoulders before tossing it aside on the couch.  Turning back to the first aid supplies she
picked 
up a towel and squeezed out the wet sponge.  "I never thanked you for what you did this morning." 
  
Willow turned back to him and smiled, handing him the towel to drape across his lap.  "That's
okay...I 
mean that's what friends are for - aren't they?" 
  
"You're more than a friend to me Willow," he said softly and then gasped as she began to sponge
away 
the dried blood from his wound. 
  
"Sorry," whispered Willow, kneeling down before him to get more comfortable as she continued to
clean 
the wound and remove the old tape that was holding it together.  She glanced up at him and let a
smile 
tremble on her lips, unsure of what to say.  She was certain of one thing - she wanted Buffy there
when 
she told her tale of woe.  General conversation would be the best tack for now, although Angel was
never 
really one for conversation.  "So, you never told me what happened?  Who attacked you?" 
  
Angel glanced down at her, he had heard the conversation between the two girls and he wanted
nothing 
more than to know what was going on with her.  Last night she had been evasive, although he hadn't 
been in the best condition to be tactful in his questioning, but there was definitely something she
wasn't 
telling him and now she had turned up on his doorstep, wanting help.  Help with what?  He didn't
know 
exactly, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with Spike and that angered him, infuriated
him. 
He grunted and moved away from her fingers as they pressed down on a particularly deep section of
his 
wound.  Lightning quick his hand shot out and caught her wrist, stilling her hand. She whimpered in
pain 
as his fingers pressed against the bruises that he had left from his similar treatment in the early hours
of 
that morning. 
  
"Angel?" she questioned watching as he bought her captured hand close to his face and inhaled
deeply. 
His eyes took in the bruising and he released his grip, letting his cool fingers soothe the dark marks. 
  
"I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispered and brushed his moist lips over the bruises. 
  
Willow snatched her wrist back and stood up, turning back to the basin of water to rinse out the
sponge. 
Had she just imagined that Angel did that rather intimate act? 
  
"It's okay, I know you didn't mean to..." she squeezed out the sponge, watching as his blood tainted
the 
water.  "You were hurt and not in the best state of mind what with blood loss and all..." 
  
<Blood loss! That could explain his behaviour.  Hey Buffy's gone to get some more, once he gets a
few 
pints into him he'll be fine.> thought Willow, giving the sponge a final squeeze.  Turning around she
held 
back a gasp as she came face to face with Angel, or rather his chest.  She exhaled, sending a soft
wave 
of warmth across his chest, causing his nipples to harden.  Bringing a hand up he pushed her hair
back 
from her face, his thumb running across the cheekbone.  Willow shook her head and winced at his 
touch, frowning at the act. 
  
"You should sit back down Angel, so I can finish this," she stated not looking at him. 
  
"Sorry," he murmured, pulling his hand away and moving back down to the couch.  Willow stared at
the 
sponge she was twisting in her hands, he was really starting to freak her out. 
  
"So..." she returned to her kneeling position as she sponged at the wound, struggling to find anything 
that would break the awkward mood that had settled about the room.  "Who did this to you?" 
  
"Spike," he lied, watching to gauge her reaction.  She stopped her administrations and stared at him,
her 
mouth wide open, the colour draining from her face. 
  
"Spike?  But he..." she watched as his eyes narrowed.  "Why wouldn't he just kill you and be done
with 
it?" 
  
Willow dropped her head as she grabbed the towel and dried off the wound.  This was just getting
too 
confusing for her, she knew that it couldn't have been Spike and she couldn't understand why Angel 
would lie.  But then there was the time that she had been sleeping, an hour - more than enough time
for 
him to slip out...Willow shook her head, it wouldn't have been possible his clothes had still been 
scattered about the bedroom when she woke up and considering it had taken them half an hour to
find 
one of his boots, which had ended up under the bed, she doubted very much that he had left while
she 
was asleep.  Which meant that Angel was lying. 
  
"You know Spike - always playing games.  He enjoys hurting people, Willow.  It's his life," Angel
said 
nonchalantly.  "No pain, no pleasure.  He's a demon, a vampire, it's what he does." 
  
Willow began to close up the wound with fresh butterfly tapes, placing them close together ensuring
the 
wound would heal properly.  She didn't like where this conversation was going.  Certainly she had
come 
here for help, but now Angel was blatantly lying to her and his behaviour toward her was bizarre to
say 
the least.  As she fixed the last piece of tape to his chest he again caught her hand in his and raised it 
to his face, closing his eyes he inhaled deeply. 
  
"That balm, it's sweet.  You were wearing it this morning as well," he stated, his thumb rubbing circles

on the soft flesh beneath her palm. He opened his eyes and caught her gaze, his brown eyes trying to 
see into her very soul.  "When you wear it I can't smell anything else..." 
  
Willow wrenched her wrist free and stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. 
  
"Well, I think I've done everything I can here.  I should go..." she moved toward the door only to
have 
Angel grip her arm. 
  
"I thought you needed help Willow?  Isn't that what you said to Buffy?" 
  
"No, no...it was just a trivial thing...it doesn't matter," she bit her lip, waiting for him to let her go.  He 
didn't. 
  
"You know Willow, if you ever need anything," he moved in closer to her, his fingers brushing across
her 
face.  "You can always come to me, no matter what." 
  
"Angel," she whispered, her face marred by a worried frown.  "I really have to go." 
  
"Why don't you stay, Willow?" he breathed across her ear, his lips brushing casually against it. 
Willow 
wrenched her arm out of his grasp and stepped away from him, inching closer to the door. 
  
"What are you doing?" she hissed, slowly moving away from him.  Angel took a step toward her, 
reaching out but she twisted away from him.  Feeling her panic he halted his movement and fixed his 
eyes on her. 
  
"I just want you to stay here, Willow.  Where your safe...with me," he offered.  Willow glanced at
him 
warily before shaking her head. 
  
"No, I have to go. Tell Buffy I'll call her later," and with that she left the mansion and headed out into
rays 
of the setting sun. 
  
*** 
  
Somehow Willow found herself back at the apartment.  She had no understanding of why she had
come 
back.  It was only going to play up to Spike - doing what he wanted.  Her head throbbed and her
body felt 
heavy.  As she walked into the bedroom a wave of nausea hit her, only last night they had been
together 
in the bed.  Feeling her stomach lurch she dashed to the toilet, barely reaching it as her body heaved. 
As she knelt in front of the toilet, still heaving, her mind filled with images from the night - it only made

her feel more hopeless.  As she spat the remaining vomit into the bowl her eyes widened in terror as
she 
saw remnants of blood.  She'd bitten him, consumed his blood, more than what she had just thrown
up. 
Standing on trembling legs she made her way over to the vanity, to splash her face with cool water
and 
rinse out her mouth.  She couldn't bring herself to look at her reflection - she didn't want to see the
fear 
and hopelessness that was consuming her.  Numbly she made her way to the bed, crawled into a ball

and cried herself to sleep. 
  
"Willow," a soft kiss was placed on her temple as cool fingers caressed her fevered flesh, urging her
to 
wake up.  Her eyes flew open and she struck out against Spike's hand.  Sitting up she inched her
way 
back from him. 
  
Spike straightened up unsure of what had happened.  "Willow?" 
  
"Stay away from me!" she hissed. 
  
Spike clenched his jaw as his face hardened into the unemotional facade that Willow had seen so
many 
times when they were together.  As he sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving her, he leant

back against the bedpost and let an agitated sigh escape his lips. 
  
"What's going on?" he asked offhandedly. 
  
"How long have you been planning this?" she whispered. 
  
"Planning what love?" 
  
"This...everything!  This place it didn't just happen...there is no way you could have done it within a
few 
days - it would have taken weeks." 
  
Spike smiled and leant his head back against the post, his eyes seemingly focusing on the canopy. 
"Actually months pet." 
  
"Months..." Willow whispered, her breath coming in harsh gasps, her brow furrowed in fear and 
confusion.  She glanced up taking in the sight of him leaning against the post, staring at the canopy, his

legs up on the bed, crossed at the ankles.  He had abandoned his duster and silk shirt and the muscle

in his jaw was flexing, his lips twisted into a half smirk.  Slowly she inched off the bed and he lowered
his 
head to watch her.  Backing away she kept an eye on him while he remained still and held her gaze. 
Unable to take the unwavering stare anymore Willow turned and ran.  She knew, even before she felt
his 
arms wrapping around her, that it was hopeless.  Screaming she threw her head back, not even trying
to 
hold back the flood of tears that escaped her, and struggled wildly in his firm grasp as he continued
their 
forward movement into the lounge room. 
  
"Willow," he growled in her ear.  "Stop it." 
  
Suddenly he released her and she fell to the floor, sprawling flat and landing hard enough to knock
the 
wind out of her.  Gasping for breath she moved onto her hands and knees only to find herself looking
at 
Spike's boots.  She snapped her head back to look up at him. 
  
"Why?" 
  
"Why what pet?" 
  
"Why are you doing this?  Why are you using me like this?  If you wanted to hurt Buffy and Angel 
wouldn't it have been better just to kill me?" 
  
His eyes flashed with anger and he squatted down so that his face was level with hers, his blue eyes 
piercing hers. 
  
"Is that what you think Willow?  Do you think that's what I'm doing?" 
  
"What other reason would there be?" 
  
Within a heartbeat his face changed and a snarl escaped from his twisted lips.  Standing up he
grabbed 
her arms, lifting her up.  With a loud thud and sharp pain radiating from the base of her skull and 
shoulders Willow found herself thrown and held against the wall. 
  
"Would I have done this if I wanted to fuck with the slayer?  Would I waste time and money merely
to 
play with the slayer or my damn sire?  Is that what you really think?" his face was level with hers,
anger 
the only emotion visible as he tilted his head to the side.  "If I wanted to use you I would've raped
you and 
left your mutilated body on their doorstep.  I haven't done this for some whim, for some fancy.  I've
done 
this for you." 
  
"Why?  Why would you do it for me?" 
  
She cried out as he released his hold on her arms, letting her slide down the wall.  As her feet hit the 
floor she was sure that she would just crumple into a heap but Spike grabbed her arm in a bruising
grip 
and bodily dragged her into the bathroom.  Although it was hopeless she struggled against him, 
whimpering the whole way.  Without releasing his hold his free hand grabbed the back of her neck
and 
held her firmly in front of the mirror. 
  
"Don't you see it?" 
  
She stared at her reflection, a face that was pale and tear streaked, green eyes glowing from tears
and 
fear.  Spike loosened his grip as she continued to stare, her sobbing breaths echoing about the 
otherwise silent bathroom. He moved in behind her gently pulling her hair off her face as he released
her 
arm and bought his up to wrap across her chest.  Continuing to stroke her hair he watched as she 
calmed down, as her chest stopped heaving, as the tears stopped falling. 
  
"Do you see it, Willow?  Do you see what I see?" 
  
She looked back at the mirror.  Her face, under his ministrations, was still pale but reflected
tranquillity, 
a sense of belonging.  She shook her head - she didn't want to see this.  Didn't want to acknowledge
the 
fact that when he held her she obtained some type of happiness or fulfilment.  She felt sick, weary
from 
the stress of the argument, if it hadn't been for Spike standing behind her she probably would have 
collapsed on the floor. 
  
"Please Spike...I don't understand," she whispered.  "What am I meant to see?" 
  
"You," Spike whispered.  "As I see you, as you are." 
  
"Why are you doing this?" she whimpered as the tears welled up in her eyes.  Lowering her head she 
began to cry again, harsh sobs that wracked her body.  She cried until darkness overtook her.  She 
wasn't sure what happened but she became aware that she was lying face down on the bed while
Spike 
was sitting in one of the chairs, watching her. 
  
"Feeling better love?" he asked coldly.  Willow remained still, unsure of what was going to happen. 
He 
stood up and she realised that he had put his red silk shirt and duster back on.  "Come on I'll walk
you 
home and you'll never see me again." 
  
"No..." she sat up on the bed, the thought of not seeing him again sent a strange tremor through her 
body. "I don't want that." 
  
"What do you want, Willow?" he asked her.  She remained silent - she didn't even know herself. 
She 
heard the duster creak as he sat down on the foot of the bed, she couldn't help but look up at him,
her 
eyes caught by his.  Reaching out he ran a cool finger along her cheek and pushed the hair back off
her 
face.  "Why did you come here, why are you here now?" 
  
"Because...I have nowhere else to go." 
  
"What do you want, Willow?" he asked again. 
  
"I want..." she broke his gaze for a moment, considering the question.  "I want you to tell me why? 
Why 
you are doing this?" 
  
Spike sighed, his eyes for the briefest of moments reflected weariness, a loneliness, a desperation. 
He 
inched closer to her, his lips a hairsbreadth away from hers. 
  
"Because I want you Willow.  Not the slayers little lap dog.  I want the Willow that I know." He
captured 
her lips in a soft questioning kiss before pulling back to continue.  "I want to possess you," he kissed
her 
cheek, brushing his own against it and lowering his mouth back to hers. "Like you have me," he
kissed 
her lips again and tangled one of his hands in her hair, the other straying to stroke her back. "I want
you, 
and I need you." He bent his head and began to shower kisses along her neck, continuing his 
explanation between the feather like strokes.  "I want everything that you are - your happiness, your 
scars.  I want you for an eternity..." 
  
"Why me?" 
  
"Because you have possessed me, claimed me, want me...you own me Willow," he raised his head
and 
caught her gaze.  "Anything I have, anything I am, is yours.  Anything you want of me Willow." 
  
"Anything?" she questioned, resting one hand on his chest, the other fell to his thigh. 
  
"Anything," he repeated.  Willow leant in and brushed her lips across his, not breaking the contact to 
ask her question. 
  
"Stay with me Spike?" 
  
"For an eternity Willow." 

Part 20a ***************************************************************

Something was growling, softly, grumbling, whining about being empty.  It was Willow's stomach, further
incensed by the aroma of hot pancakes, slathered with whipped butter and warm maple syrup.  A slave
to her body's demands Willow woke up.
 
"Maple syrup," she murmured, never remembering having a dream so vivid that it assaulted her senses
with specific fragrances.  Cracking an eye open she saw Spike sitting next to her holding a plate stacked
high with the aforementioned delectables.  Willow closed her eye and snuggled deeper into the cool
comforts of the bedding.  "Oh such sweet dreams."
 
"Come on, pet.  Wake up and smell the...maple syrup."
 
Willow groaned at his lame word play and rolled onto her back, the sheet wrapping itself around her
naked body.  Bringing her hands up she rubbed at her eyes, willing herself away from the soft comforts of
sleep, and yawned.  Spike shoved a heavily loaded forkful of pancakes into her mouth.
 
"Hmmmph!" protested Willow sitting up and chewing the food that had been so unceremoniously shoved
into her mouth.  Any thoughts of protest died when her taste buds encountered the blissful combination
of hot pancake, butter and copious amounts of maple syrup.  Like a baby bird she swallowed and
opened her mouth for more.  Spike obligingly filled her mouth with another portion of bliss, chasing away
the small amount of maple syrup that dripped on her chin with his own tongue.  Willow giggled about the
mouthful as Spike's tongue tickled her.  Swallowing, she shook her head at him.  "Did you make these?"
 
"Yeah, your bloody stomach kept me awake so I thought I would soothe the savage beast," Spike said
concentrating on loading up the fork again.  Willow looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, he was clad
in only his jeans and his hair was a bedraggled mess.  For the longest time last night he had simply held
her, whispering over and over again his declarations between soft and fevered kisses. Before he
surrendered to her every whim, which at times resulted in a multitude of giggles to escape both of them,
by the time she fell into an exhausted sated sleep she was certain that what he said was true.  He
belonged to her.  Suddenly her thoughts of last night were interrupted as another forkful of pancakes was
presented to her.  "Come on pet, don't let them go to waste after all the trouble I went to making them
from scratch."
 
Willow opened her mouth and happily consumed the delicious offering.  Worming her way under his arm
she rested her head against his bare shoulder and looked up at him suspiciously.  "From scratch?"
 
"Yes.  Placed the milk in the bottle and shook it - a lot of work.  Impressed?"  Willow giggled and opened
her mouth for another helping.  A rumble of laughter left Spike.  "What did you expect pet?  America is,
after all, the land of convenience."
 
Willow suppressed a giggle and took another offered mouthful.  Her hand traced patterns on his naked
chest and stomach while the other was tucked in the small of his back, resting against the soft pillows
that littered the bed.  Sighing she opened her mouth as Spike loaded up the fork again, the plate was
nearly empty and her stomach was practically full.
 
"Well thank you for making me breakfast," said Willow, swallowing and licking her lips clean of the
maple syrup.
 
"Brunch and it was selfish.  Your stomach makes noises that would wake the dead..." he paused and
gave her a lopsided grin.  "Which it did."
 
"What," Spike shoved the final fork load into her mouth before she got to ask her question.  Chewing
minimally she swallowed the last piece.  "What time is it?"
 
"'Bout eleven," Spike reached out for a goblet of chilled milk and handed it to her, placing the empty
syrupy plate on the bedside table.  She sipped the milk and watched him from the corner of her eye.  He
had stayed, as he said he would.  Then again so had she.  A shiver ran through her, she knew no matter
what a choice had been made by both of them.  Her thoughts were distracted as his sticky fingers
brushed back her hair.  She giggled.
 
"Your fingers are covered in maple syrup," she exclaimed, letting the empty glass fall to the bed.  Spike
shrugged and started to bring his fingers up to his mouth but Willow caught his hand in hers and guided
it to her mouth.  Running her fingers down to his wrist, she encircled it and held his hand steady as her
tongue ran along the length of his thumb.  Closing her eyes she sucked his thumb into her mouth, her
tongue circling it, licking every last trace of maple syrup off it.  Pulling her mouth away she let the clean
digit slip free.  Opening her eyes she smiled at him over his wet thumb. "Mine."
 
"Yours," he replied huskily.  She ducked her head back down and captured the finger next to his thumb,
repeating the treatment she had given his thumb.  Spike swallowed unnecessarily.  Releasing the finger
she caught his eyes again.
 
"Mine," she stated, running her tongue up the length of the cleaned finger before moving onto the next.
 
"Yours," he acknowledged, watching her intently.  She rolled slightly so that she rested on his chest, the
sheet the only barrier between their chests.  Holding his gaze she sucked on his finger, licking at the
maple syrup that coated it.  Pulling her mouth away she tilted her head forward, her lips barely
millimetres from his.
 
"Mine," she breathed.  Spike bowed his head and caught her lips, tasting the sweet syrup.
 
"Yours," he conceded, breaking the kiss.  She bought his hand back to her mouth and kissed the
remaining two fingers before taking them into her warm mouth to clean them.  
 
"Mine," she claimed, releasing his fingers.
 
"Yours," he smiled down at her, twisting his wrist free of her grasp to entwine their fingers together.  He
broke her gaze and looked at their locked hands.  "What happened to your wrist, love?"
 
"Oh, I...um, well," she stuttered unsure of what to say.  Spike shifted slightly, not freeing her arm, and
turned her back onto the bed, covering her body partially with his.
 
"These," he said, lightly kissing the darkening bruises his anger had caused.  "Are mine, left by my
fingers...but these," he lifted her wrist to his mouth and dragged his teeth against the older bruising
before capturing her gaze again.  "Are not.  So who's are they?"
 
Willow, unsure of how he would react to the mention of Angel's name, held back.  Spike sighed and
dragged his teeth across the bruising once more, before drawing back and examining it closely. 
Frowning he began to kiss a slow path from her wrist, along her arm, over the bruises he had created and
up her neck to nuzzle at her ear.  Willow moaned and tangled her free hand in his hair.  Moving he
straddled her, resting his weight on his forearms, her wrist still held in his hand.  He claimed her lips,
seeking out her mouth and tongue, his own ravenous for her taste.  Finally breaking the kiss he caught
her gaze and tilted his head to one side, his eyes hardening.
 
"Tell me, pet."
 
Beneath him Willow shifted uselessly, trapped by his body, and closed her eyes against his demanding
stare.  "It was Angel."
 
She braced herself, his anger, his hatred, his violence, whatever he was going to do she was ready for it. 
Or so she thought.  She felt him shift, lift up and off her, dragging her captured wrist with him as his other
hand snaked about her and lifted her with him.  Opening her eyes she found herself lying on Spike's
chest, her head pillowed on his shoulder.  He was still holding onto her bruised wrist, alternately kissing
the bruises and rubbing at them with his thumb almost like he was trying to erase them.  He seemed
almost reflective as he studied the bruises.  His silence unnerved her and suddenly she was purging
herself of the whole story.  Still he remained silent and pensive.  His free hand moved from her back to
stroke her hair as she rested against him, calming her fear of his silence.  She had almost fallen asleep,
soothed by the reassuring feeling of his fingers running through her hair, when he finally spoke.
 
"Be careful, love," he said quietly as he continued to stroke her hair.  "Angel...he...he can be..." he
struggled to find the appropriate words for what he wanted to say.  "Angel has more in common with
Angelus than he cares to admit."
 
Willow glanced up at him through sleep heavy eyes.  "What do you mean?"
 
"Nothing, pet," Spike drew her closer to him and kissed the top of her head.  "Go to sleep."
 
***
 
Angel watched as Buffy slept.  She had insisted on staying the night, calling her mother to say she was
staying with Willow, so that she could look after him and he hated it.  He had been worried about Willow,
wanting nothing more than to find her and make sure she was safe, to make her safe with him.  But Buffy
was insistent that had she been in serious trouble or upset about something she would have stayed and
that Angel wasn't in any fit state to be going out.  So together they had stayed in, Buffy curling up in the
agitated vampires arms talking about something he couldn't follow or understand since his thoughts were
entirely focused on Willow.  Buffy had talked well into the early hours of the morning and he'd been
grateful when she finally fell asleep after hours of her declaring her love for him, demanding a response he
was finding increasingly difficult to give.  Now, as she slept, he watched and wondered.
 
He remembered that first time he had seen her, sitting in the afternoon sun, so pretty, so naive and
innocent.  She was the embodiment of everything that Angelus had striven to destroy, one way or the
other.  Then that night, when she made her first slay, she lost some of that innocence and gained an
insight to the strength she had.  And she had gone home and wept.  It was those tears, her vulnerability
that drew Angel to her, she possessed so much strength and yet she was weak and susceptible.  She
had been everything that Angelus hadn't been, but everything that he'd wanted and destroyed. She had
been soothing to his tortured soul.  Glancing down at her Angel wondered what happened to her, where
was that naïve young innocent girl he wanted so badly?  Had she changed so much that she no longer
resembled the girl he fell for?  Or was it him?
 
He backed away from the blonde sound asleep on the bed and sat down in one of the dark corners of the
room, resting his elbows on bended knees and cradled his head in his hands.  Willow.  She was
haunting him, in his thoughts during the day and at night she inhabited his dreams, calling to him,
promising things that Buffy had long ago surrendered to him.  He shook his head.  She had been so
different lately, changing not only her hair, but also her clothes, even the way she walked and held
herself.  Little things he and Giles had noticed and discussed, although Giles was certain it was nothing
to worry about, merely that she was going through a metamorphosis and growing - something to be
expected after the betrayal from Oz.  Angel grunted at that thought, he could have happily ripped Oz's
throat out for hurting her. However he didn't have to worry about Oz anymore, he had nothing to do with
Willow.
 
Rolling his head he leant back against the wall, staring blindly at the ceiling.  Tonight he would be able to
go and check on Willow, make sure she was ok, even if he didn't speak to her he could still watch
her...like he had been since she came back from her trip.  Pushing himself off the floor he wandered out
of his bedroom without a glance towards the girl still sleeping soundly in his bed and headed to the
kitchen to feed.

Part 20b

Willow hissed lightly as she pulled her bra away from her sore breasts, the soft silk felt like sandpaper
on her oversensitive nipples.  She ached; it was the best way to describe it.  Ten o'clock on Sunday
night and she was back home, Spike having walked her to the end of her block after protesting that she
should just stay at the apartment.  Of course she couldn't, she had school in the morning and needed
books that were at her parents house, and her friends would have been worried about her
"disappearance", especially after her statement to Buffy about needing help.  However they weren't.
There were no messages on her answering machine, no notes taped to her French doors, or shoved
under the front door, there was nothing and Willow regretted being foolish enough to insist that she had
to come back here, she should have just stayed with Spike at the apartment.
 
Sighing she slipped on her boxers and top and turned her attention to packing the books she would need
for tomorrow's classes.  A knock at the French windows distracted her.  Her face lit up, maybe they were
worried or better yet maybe it was Spike.  Pulling back the curtains she saw Angel.  Hesitantly she
opened the doors and stood aside, letting him enter.
 
"Hi, Angel," she said softly, leaving the door open and folding her arms across her chest.  "Is something
wrong?"
 
"Uh, no...well I don't...are you okay?"
 
Willow gave him a half smile.  "I'm fine.  You're looking better than the last time I saw you."
 
It was true, the wound on his face had completely healed and while his shirt covered his chest the wound
there was little more than a scar that would be faded by morning.  
 
"Miracles of blood, it can do all sorts of things for a vampire," he said perching on the side of her desk
and fixing his gaze on her.  She looked tired, pale and uneasy.  Sighing unnecessarily he glanced down
at the silver Claddagh band he wore and fingered it frowning slightly.  "I'm sorry about yesterday, Willow. 
I was..."
 
"It's okay, Angel.  You don't have to explain anything."  Willow shifted her weight from one foot to the
other, biting her bottom lip and keeping her eyes steadily on his hands.
 
"No it's not Willow," he was standing in front of her in a heartbeat, his hands holding her upper arms. 
"I'm sorry if I scared you...I...it's just if ever you need anything I'm here, if you need help or just to talk."
 
"Thanks, Angel, but I'm okay.  Everything is fine," she said quietly, growing uncomfortable under his
unwavering gaze.  Sensing her discomfort he released her arms and stepped back.
 
"I'm sorry Willow, I shouldn't have come..." he turned to leave.
 
"No Angel, seriously it's okay," she reached out and took his arm.  No matter how strange he had been
acting lately he was still a friend and for all appearances the only one that cared at the moment.  So she
held onto him, keeping him close.  "I'm sorry, I'm being rude.  You know you are always welcome
wherever I am."
 
"Really?" he asked turning to face her.  She grinned and rolled her eyes.
 
"You have an open invitation at all times," she laughed and released his arm, moving back to her desk,
sorting through her books for classes.  "So are you feeling better?  You look better."
 
"I guess.  You look tired, Willow," he said taking up his perch on the edge of her desk again.  Willow
shrugged, stuffing a few of her books into her backpack.
 
"I am I didn't get much sleep last night."
 
"Why?" he crossed his arms and watched her face.
 
"I was..." she glanced up catching those dark brown eyes fixed on her.  "Studying biology."
 
She smiled to herself, it wasn't a blatant lie but it wasn't exactly the truth either.  He stayed for a little
while longer, with Willow making general chit chat before yawning excessively and giving him a not too
subtle hint to leave.  Turning off the light she crawled into bed and waited for sleep to seduce her, let her
dream.  As sleep began to weave its comfortable blanket, her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her room
and through the semi reflective glass of her French windows she could make out a figure.  As she gave
into the darkness of sleep she realised that it was Angel.
 
***
 
With a groan she woke up.  If she thought her body was sore and tender last night, this morning it was
screaming in agony.  Forcing herself she started to get ready for school.  Pulling the curtains to cover
the windows she felt a shiver run through her.  Angel.  Had he really been on her balcony last night or
was it just a dream?  It had to be a dream.  Picking up her bag she left her room and went to school.  
 
She should have stayed home.  People were brushing against her, feather like strokes that burnt her
sensitive flesh, and her back was beginning to feel like it was in a vice grip an unrelenting pressure that
was starting to twist.  At lunchtime she and Xander sat in comfortable familiarity, his fingers warming the
small of her back trying to ease her discomfort.  He also bought her comfort in the shape of chocolate,
sweet, delicious chocolate washed down with a soda that he had slipped a few analgesics into.
 
"Being a girl sucks.  You guys are so lucky you don't get...girl things," Willow muttered, embarrassed by
the idea of having this type of conversation with Xander.  He merely laughed it off.
 
By the end of the day she was in the library in tears, Giles offering her a glass of water and a handful of
tablets, and that was how Buffy found her.
 
"God, you look terrible," she proclaimed.  Willow sobbed even harder and Giles frowned at his slayers
insensitivity.
 
"Perhaps it would be best for you to go home," Giles suggested as she gulped at the water washing
down the pills he had offered her.  Hiccuping she wiped at the tears and nodded.
 
"I'm sorry," she whispered trying to control her tears. 
 
"Don't be silly.  You're hor..." he was about to say 'hormonal' but he didn't want to instigate another
flood.  "Just tired.  Buffy why don't you take her home and then come back?"
 
"Okay, not a problem," she said taking her friends hand and leading her out of the library.  As they
walked towards her house in silence Buffy shot a worried glance at Willow, she certainly didn't look too
well, pale and drawn.  "Are you okay?"
 
"It's just...I think it's just really bad period cramps.  I feel like my uterus is literally trying to cramp me to
death," she admitted blushing.  Buffy smiled sympathetically and pulled out a small bottle of pills from
her bag, handing them to the redhead.
 
"It's probably stress," Buffy stated.  She knew how stress could wreak havoc on a person's body,
especially a female body.  Glancing at her friend she considered her statement, Willow certainly had the
stress factor going, just breaking up with her cheating boyfriend and on Saturday all that talk about being
in trouble.  Buffy shrugged to herself, thinking it couldn't have been too bad since she never said anything
about it since.  "You know my first period after I slept with Angel and he went, well you know, I thought I
was going to die.  The worst cramps for at least a week.  It was a total pain fest."
 
Willow had long ago tuned out of the conversation, her physical pain was taking up her attention.  It was
starting to become a strange mixture of pain and numbness.  Her head felt light while her limbs were
heavy.  Patterns of light and darkness blurred her vision.  
 
"Here take three of these now, they'll knock you out and let you sleep," Buffy held out the tablets to
Willow as she sat down on her bed.
 
"I'm home," Willow muttered unbelievably, hadn't she just been walking with Buffy?  A spasm of pain
shot through her and she took the offered tablets hoping beyond hope that they would indeed knock her
out.   Swallowing them with water she laid back on her bed and closed her eyes.
 
"I've got to get back to the library and do a patrol, do you want me to come round afterwards?"  Buffy
asked.  Willow shook her head.
 
"No, I just need to get a decent night sleep.  I'll be fine, Buffy," muttered Willow unaware that Buffy had
already left. Pulling her knees up to her chest, hoping to ease the painful cramps, she drifted into a fitful
drug induced sleep.  Back at the library Buffy walked through the doors with a jaunty step and a
lascivious smile crossed her lips as she spied Angel.
 
"Hi you," she said sweetly, snaking her arms around his waist and turning to Giles.  "Something's up I
ran into a pack of vampires on my way back, somehow I don't think tonight's going to be a quiet one." 
She looked up at Angel.  "Patrol with me?  I could use your help."
 
Angel mutely nodded.
 
***
 
"Willow," Someone was calling her, forcing her back into the waking nightmare of pain.  Cool hands
soothed her fevered face as it contorted in pain.
 
"No," she whimpered as the sharp clawing pain consumed her body, tearing at her backbone, twisting
the muscles, millions of shards of pain shattering in her stomach.
 
"I can make it better, love."
 
"Spike?" she murmured through the pain filled and drug induced haze that surrounded her.
 
"Yes, pet."
 
"I hurt Spike," she whimpered blindly reaching out for him, she felt his leather clad arms encircle her,
cradling her pain wracked body.
 
"I can make it better, love," the whisper reached her ear as his cheek brushed against hers.
 
"Please," she begged before crying out as he pulled away from her.  Suddenly she was surrounded by
the warmth of his leather jacket and lifted up in his arms.  Pain roared through her and she buried her
face in his neck, smothering a sob.  Her body tried to curl up, only be prevented by his arms wrapped
firmly about her back and legs, so she turned and wrapped herself about him.  "Make it stop, Spike."
 
His comforting words were lost in the haze of pain, nausea and a swirling darkness that kept enveloping
her.  She had no idea how long he had been carrying her, or even when they had left the cocooned safety
of her room, she was only just aware of the feel of his arms holding her tightly.  And then they released
her, dropping her down onto the soft comfort of cool silk.  She cried out and rolled as another spasm of
pain wracked her body.  Suddenly hands were pulling at her, pulling away the duster and tearing at her
clothes.  Her drug-ladled mind fought the nightmarish qualities and her hands fought against those that
were undressing her.
 
"Willow," through the nightmare and the darkness she heard Spike call her, his hands left her body to
cup her face, pushing the sweat soaked hair back from her temple.  "Willow."
 
Forcing her eyes to open she fought her way through the swirls of darkness that blurred her vision to
focus on his blue eyes.  "Spike?"
 
"Shhh, it's ok, pet.  I'm here," he whispered stroking her face.  Willow clutched at his hand as a wave of
pain blurred her vision again.
 
"Please, make it stop," she begged.
 
"Close your eyes, love," he instructed, lightly dragging his fingers down over eyes, forcing them close,
letting her lose herself in the darkness.  Slowly his hands began to trace patterns against her fevered and
tormented flesh.  His lips caressing her, soothing her, leaving a wet trail over her sensitised skin as he
crawled down over her body urging her legs apart to move between them.
 
She arched up off the bed and cried out as his tongue delved deep into her.  His hands pressed down
unrelentingly on her abdomen, his long fingers massaging at the knots of pain that generated from deep
within her, while his face pressed between her thighs.  Crying at the increasing cramps and pain she
pressed her hips down into the mattress, her hands flying down to grip his hair trying to desperately pull
him away.  With a feral growl his fingers dug deep into the flesh of her abdomen and his tongue snaked
around inside her, his teeth elongated and grazed at the oversensitive clit.  Willow rolled her head back
and a long painful scream left her as Spike continued his assault, his tongue and mouth working to draw
out her essence and blood.  He was rhythmically moving his mouth against her, the ridges of his vampire
countenance thrusting against the flesh of her thighs, a continual hungry growl left him as he fed on her.  
 
The scream had long since died and Willow's body was shaking with sobs, but as Spike continued his
ministrations the pain dulled to be replaced by numbness.  Blindly Willow stared at the intricate gold
twirls of thread lost in a sea of green above her in the canopy of the bed.  Spike's combination of growls
and purrs from between her legs acted as succour, soothing her, releasing her from the nightmare of the
pain which had previously consumed her.  Slowly her hands released their grip on his hair, falling
uselessly to her sides, as he continued to feed from her.  The vice like grip on her stomach was removed
and his hands found hers as his hungry growls turned into satisfied purrs.  Suddenly he was beside her,
wrapping her up in his arms, his vampire visage still at the fore.
 
Willow bought a shaky hand up to caress the ridges of his demon face making him purr and rub against
her soft, warm fingers.  Slowly her fingers moved down to run over his lips, pulling them away she bought
them to her own lips, coating them with her blood.  She sucked the remnants her fingertips and tangled
them in Spike's hair, pulling him in to kiss.  As their tongues met and caressed, entangling and teasing
each other, she could taste her blood in his mouth, a sharp metallic tang.  Sighing she pulled his body
closer, so they were touching, their legs entwined.  Breaking the kiss she bit down hard on his bottom
lip, firmly trapping it between her teeth and dragging them across the soft plump flesh.  As their mouths
joined again she could taste his rich blood as it seeped from the wounds.  Soft tender kisses started to
become harder, frantic and hungry kisses.  Tongues brushed across elongated fangs, lips were caught
on sharp teeth, nicks and scratches were made, and blood mixed freely with saliva.
 
Finally Spike wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her back.  Once more she bought her hand up to
caress his face as he slipped back into his human façade.  The next thing she knew she was standing
under the shower clinging to him standing on legs that she couldn't feel one of his arms supporting her
waist.  The water cascaded over them, warming them, cleansing them.  His hands caressed her body,
soothing the aches and cramps as her head rested on his shoulder. Her body was cradled against his as
the water washed over them and she fought to remain conscious, her eyes drooping shut.  Swallowing
she could taste the blood that was still leaking from the nicks and scratches on her lips and tongue.  The
warmth of the water was turned off and she was vaguely aware of being wrapped in a large fluffy bath
towel.  Her legs were lifted up and her arms snaked around Spike's neck as he carried her from the
bathroom and out toward the lounge room.  Glancing over his shoulder she looked longingly at the bed,
shocked to see the gold sheets and pillows stained with scarlet.  Blood, not a lot of it but enough to
make it an ick factor.  Closing her eyes the bed disappeared and she let herself fall into the swirling
darkness of sleep.
 
Cool hands and Spike's soft rumbling voice pulled her back to consciousness.  Wrapped in silk he was
pulling her closer, asking if she was okay, his arms wrapping about her, locking her to him.  She bought
her hand up to stroke his cheek before claiming his lips in a soft kiss.
 
"Mine," she mumbled, snuggling against him.
 
"Mine," he growled, tightening his hold on her, his eyes flashing gold.
 
****

Part 20c

It was the soft whirring sound from the lounge room that woke Willow from her slumber and she stirred
in Spike's arms.
 
"What's that?" she murmured against his chest.
 
"Just the curtains, love," he kissed her temple and tightened his hold on her.  "Go back to sleep."
 
"What time is it?" her hot breath warmed his skin and made him sigh.
 
"Early, go back to sleep," he moved his hand up to stroke her hair softly, lulling her back to sleep.
 
"Wake me so I can go to school," she murmured snuggling deeper into his embrace.
 
"Yes, love," Spike laughed.  True to his word he woke her some four hours later, or rather tried to.
 
"I'm awake," she mumbled, rolling over onto her stomach and burying her head deep in the pillow with a
satisfied sigh.
 
"No you're not," he whispered as he tickled her spine with his lips, working his way up to her neck. She
giggled.  "Come on, love, your first class starts in twenty minutes."
 
"What?" she twisted about and sat up, running her fingers through her hair and desperately looking about
for a clock.  Panicking she inched her way over to the edge of the bed. "Oh god, I'm going to be late.  I've
got to go home and get dressed and..." she paused to look back at an amused Spike and blushed.  "Get
some...other...things..."
 
"Twenty minutes is plenty of time to have a shower and all that," Spike stated, propping himself up on
the pillows to watch her.
 
"I haven't got clothes..." she started to protest, standing up and turning to look at him.  Spike raised an
eyebrow at her.
 
"The closet is full of clothes," he all but growled.  "Pick something and have a shower.  Do you want
something to eat before you go?"
 
"I still have to get...other..." she paused, blushing furiously again.  "Girl things..."
 
Spike didn't laugh at her, like she thought he would, instead he studied her intently before holding out his
hand to her.
 
"Come back to bed for a moment, love," he asked softly.  Frowning Willow reached out and took his
hand, crawling over the bed to lie down next to him, her head resting on his shoulder.  His arm snaked
about her shoulders, his fingers dragging lightly through her hair.  His other hand hovered, momentarily,
over her flat stomach before his cool fingers touched the warm flesh, his thumb caressing her.  "You
won't bleed anymore this month Willow."
 
Willow glanced up at him for a moment, trying to read his expressionless face, before lowering her gaze
to his hand on her stomach.
 
"Why?" she almost whispered.  Beside her Spike smirked and shrugged.  She frowned lightly and shifted
against him, her own hand covering his on her stomach.  "Will it...will it be like this every time?"
 
"No, love," Spike shifted, ducking his head to claim her lips in a soft questing kiss.  Sighing he broke the
kiss and held her gaze.  "Your..." He pursed his lips and closed his eyes briefly.  "Our blood was calling to
me."
 
"Our blood?" questioned Willow tensing in his arms, her hand gripping his.  "What do you mean by that?"
 
"My blood," he purred, lifting his head and rubbing his chin against the soft hair that covered the top of
her head.  "And your blood combined...our blood."
 
Willow remained quiet for a moment, her mind working through what he had just said.  She had
consumed his blood on two occasions now, that first time in the club at New Orleans and the first night
he had bought her to the apartment, she carried their combined blood.  Frowning she shifted slightly in
his arms, it should repulse her that she was contaminated by him, that a small part of him was with her
at all times, but it didn't, in fact she revelled in it.  But still it didn't explain the extent of her pain or why it
wouldn't happen again...and then it did.  Up until last night she had carried their blood, he hadn't until he
drank from her.
 
"And now you have our blood, so I...my...our blood won't call to you next time?" she asked hesitantly, not
really understanding the full complications of that statement.  He laughed lightly against her hair.
 
"Exactly pet," Spike pulled away and looked down at her, a quirky grin plastered all over his face. 
"Although it's a neat way to relieve cramps...anytime you need..."
 
"Spike," she slapped him on the chest, blushing again.  Reluctantly she pulled away from him and got out
of the bed.  Spike rolled over onto his stomach and sprawled across the bed, watching as her slim body
walked away from him and into the bathroom.  Pursing his lips, he pulled down a pillow to cradle his
head while he watched her take a shower.
 
"Mine," he growled, his eyes possessive.
 
***
 
"I trust you're feeling better today?  You are certainly looking...well actually you look rather pale..." said
Giles.  "Perhaps you should have some iron tablets. Women are often deficient in iron during
their...oh...um...yes, well."
 
Willow ducked her head and smiled.  Poor Giles, still stuck in his frightfully British almost Victorian attitude
that women's business should not be mentioned in mixed company.  Trying to stifle back a giggle, she
wrote down a few notes from her computer screen.  Lunchtime had come and she'd wandered into the
Library, partly to apologise to Giles for her tearful performance the previous afternoon and partly to try
and gain some insight to this mornings revelations with Spike.  Instead Giles had pounced on her and
asked for her help in looking up something on the net.  
 
"Yes, Giles," she agreed and winced as the tiny abrasions on her lips ached slightly.  She had easily
explained those to Buffy - she was badly chaffed, too much lip licking.  "So what exactly were you..."
 
She paused for a moment and frowned, turning around in her chair to look at the stacks.
 
"Willow?  What is it?"  Giles asked looking up toward the stacks.
 
"I don't..." she drew back slightly as a dark form moved forward from the shadows.  
 
"Angel, for goodness sakes, it would be appreciated if you could make some sort of noise rather than just
sneaking up on people," scolded Giles, thinking that the vampire was definitely going to be the cause of a
major coronary.  "How long have you been there for?"
 
Angel frowned and looked down at the still startled Willow.  
 
"I only just came in through the tunnels," he held out a book to Giles.  "I thought I'd bring this around for
you.  It contains the full Gaelic texts you were after last night, it might help you out."
 
"Oh, well, thank you," Giles stuttered taking the book and eagerly flipping through the pages.  "Oh this
is...well exactly..."
 
Willow watched in silence as Giles spoke to Angel, excitedly discussing the possibilities of the text and
getting a translation.  She had felt Angel as soon as he'd walked into the stacks and it was a strange
feeling to try to explain.  Neither bad nor good, it was similar to hearing someone's voice and recognising
it, but she hadn't heard anything, or seen anything, merely felt him.
 
"This is just too weird," Willow muttered to herself.
 
"Sorry, what?" asked Giles looking at her over the book. She gave him a smile and shook her head.
 
"Nothing...I just...you know I think I might go," Willow got up and started to shut down the computer,
nodding her head.  "I don't have any classes this afternoon, so I might just go catch up on some...things."
 
"Oh, well if you think that's best.  Although I could use your assistance here," said Giles taking off his
glasses to watch her.
 
"Is everything okay?" Angel asked.  Willow glanced up at him, the strange feeling sweeping through her
again.
 
"Yeah, I'm just...girl stuff," Willow blushed.  
 
"Oh...oh, of course, by all means go then," Giles busied himself with the book and turned to Angel. 
"Perhaps you could help with the translation of a few other pieces I have in my office."
 
"Bye," Willow waved at them as she picked up her bag and headed out the door.  Both of them watched
as she left.
 
"She's lying," stated Angel staring at the library door as it swung closed.
 
"What?" asked Giles, shocked at Angel's statement.
 
"I can smell blood and there isn't a trace of it."
 
"But that's...impossible.  Yesterday she was...well...she was in quite a bit of pain..." Giles stared at the
frowning dark haired vampire.  "Are you sure?  I mean, why would she lie about something like that?"
 
"Something is going on.  I don't like it."  Angel stated firmly.  "I think it's time I found out."
 
***
 
Willow stood in the lift, waiting as it made the slow journey up to the apartment.  There it was again that
feeling she had in the library when Angel arrived, slightly different though.  This was more of a buzz, an
urgency, a hunger.  She jiggled her foot slightly and tapped her index finger against her thumb.
 
"Come on," she urged the lift to hurry up.  Finally the doors slid open and she stepped out, carelessly
throwing her bag aside.  Something was blaring away on the stereo and turning around she saw Spike
sitting in one of the wing chairs, his bare feet resting on the coffee table, smirking.
 
"Hello, pet," he purred.  Slowly she walked toward him, her fingers were tingling, aching to touch him. 
"What are you doing home so early?"
 
"I didn't have any afternoon classes," she murmured, standing astride his legs and slowly crawling up into
the chair, her knees either side of his thighs.  Losing the smirk he raised his hands and clasped the wings
of the chair.  She leant forward and ran her fingers across the bare flesh of his raised arms, her eyes
darkening as his muscles flexed beneath her touch.  Her mouth was barely millimetres from his, her hot
breath leaving her lips in soft pants.  Closing the slight distance between them she kissed him, her mouth
opening, her tongue delving into the cool recesses of his and moving with his.  One of her hands traced a
path down his naked chest to the fly of his jeans, the fingers twisting and pulling it apart, her fingers soon
finding his half hard cock.  As her warm fingers curled about him, he moaned into her mouth.  Capturing
his bottom lip between her teeth she pulled back from him, dragging her teeth along the soft plump flesh,
causing him to chuckle.  "So...I thought I'd come...home."
 
"Home?" Spike asked, his smirk returning.  Giving him a half smile she let her fingers stroke him until he
was throbbing.  Tilting his head he looked at her, his hips jerking slightly with every upward stroke she
made, and clenched his jaw.  She bought her other hand up to caress his jaw, her fingertips tracing his
pale lips and she leant forward, her own lips brushing against her fingers.  Spike's voice vibrated through
her fingers.  "Pet, you're killing me here."
 
"What do you want, Spike?" she murmured removing her fingers and letting her lips brush across his. 
Shifting slightly he bought his hands down, one cupping the small of her back while the other worked on
the snaps of the dress she was wearing, opening it up and pulling it from her pale shoulders.  His mouth
claimed hers, his tongue teasing and tantalizing, tasting her.  Breaking away from the kiss, she panted
slightly, her lips hovering above his.  "Tell me what you want, Spike."
 
He pulled her dress away and pushed her back from him, pulling her warm hand out of his jeans. 
Wantonly his eyes roamed over her, taking in her flushed skin, taught flesh and the soft dusky blue lace
scraps of underwear she was wearing, finally his gaze moved back to her face and he smiled at her.
 
"You, my redheaded queen as she sits on her throne of flesh," he growled, his eyes growing dark before
his mouth crashed down on hers, making her moan under the force of it.  His fingers tore at the
remaining scraps of lace that covered her body and discarded them, his fingers burning into her flesh as
they dragged across it.  She laughed into his mouth before pulling away and holding his face between her
hands, her eyes dancing with mischief.
 
"Beg," she demanded, not really thinking he would.  Suddenly she thought she may have gone too far as
his face slipped into the expressionless mask she had seen so many times before and he pushed her
away from him.  "Spike, I..."
 
She squealed as he cut her off, swinging her up and around, sitting her in the chair and kneeling at her
feet.  His head bowed, but his eyes firmly locked on hers.  Willow smiled lightly at his submissive position.
 
"I am your humble servant, milady, and as your servant I fervently beg that you let me..." he paused for a
moment, a wicked smirk gracing his lips, and then continued in the frightfully proper English accent he
had adopted.  "Entertain your majesty."
 
"And how do you propose to do that?" Willow asked quietly, keeping up the pretence that he was a
humble servant and not some powerful master vampire kneeling at her feet.
 
"Well," he murmured, his fingers caressing her ankles, still holding her gaze.  "I would like to bestow my
body for her majesties entertainment."
 
"Your body?" Willow quirked an eyebrow and let her eyes roam over his pale, masculine body, her chest
tightened and her stomach clenched.  "And is your body able to...rise to the occasion?"
 
Spike smirked, partially opening his mouth, his tongue brushing against his bottom teeth.  One of his
hands moved to his open jeans and stroked his hard cock.  "I can assure your majesty that my body is
more than able."
 
Leaning forward he kissed her knee, swirling his tongue over it and repeated the action on the other
knee.  Smiling he dragged his teeth across her knee and worked his mouth up along her thigh, his tongue
flicking out and teasing the trembling flesh.  As his mouth moved up higher, his hands began to torment
and caress her legs, starting at her ankles, swirling and twirling over sensitive flesh.  Her thighs parted
and widened, leaving her open and expose to his questing mouth, which happily kissed every part of flesh
it came across.  Soon his tongue was flicking out at her wet lips, moving between them, tasting her
bittersweet essence.  Moaning she writhed against his face, her hands clutching at his hair.  His tongue
moved up to flick across her clit, then making wide circles, closing in, closer and closer.
 
"Please Spike," she begged, her legs tensing, her feet rising up to the tips of her toes.  She tore one
hand away from his hair and reached up to grab the wing of the chair as her hips thrust forward, trying
to gain what she needed.  Suddenly his mouth was pulling back and away from her and she cried out at
the loss of it.  "No."
 
His hands gripped her legs and bought them up, slinging them over the arms of the chair, spreading her
wide open and raising her ass off the chair.  Gasping for breath her other hand flew up to grab the free
wing of the chair.  Standing up he shed his jeans, knelt on the edge of the chair and encircled the small
of her back, dragging her hips forward while he thrust up into her with a grunt of pure satisfaction.  His
mouth crashed down on hers, his tongue teasing a response from hers until it danced a tantalising dance
of carnal delight.  Breaking the kiss he lowered his head, laving each of her nipples and sucking them into
his mouth, his teeth lightly bruising them.  All the time he thrust hard and deep into her, lifting her higher
with each thrust until he was standing on his knees and her calves grabbed at the arms of the chair. 
Kissing his way back up to her mouth he kissed her possessively, his fangs elongating and slashing their
tongues, their blood mixing.
 
Suddenly Willow's whole body stiffened and one of her hands clawed at his ass as she thrust down hard
against him, her other hand digging into the material of the chair.  Her head rolled back and she
screamed out his name.  Spike hissed and slammed deeper into her, his hips roughly jerking as he joined
her in cumming, her name tumbling from his mouth.  He continued to rock them, his arms supporting
her, lifting her legs from the arms of the chair.  Slowly he wrapped her in his arms and sank back down
onto the chair, cradling her to him.
 
"So..." he whispered against her ear.  "Did I please my queen?"
***

Part 21A

Willow stretched out on the bed, her arms spreading out, fingers stretching and curling.  With a satisfied
sigh she flipped over onto her back and curled back under the soft silk sheet.  Spike had left a few hours
ago stating he'd be back no latter then 10.  They had moved from the wingchair into the bedroom and
Spike had urged her to sleep while he was gone, promising to serve his queen on his return.  Willow
giggled, she loved his show of servitude.
 
Linking her hands above her head, she sighed and lost herself in the gold swirls of the canopy for a brief
moment before pushing aside the sheet and getting out of the bed.  When Spike had left he'd turned off
the lights, leaving only the soft floor lights on, so that Willow could sleep.  Now it was just too dark for
her so she made her way out to the lounge room and lit the candles, the flames flickering and casting a
multitude of colours about the room.  Smiling she made her way over to the stereo, dragging her hand
lightly across the back of the wingchair they'd occupied earlier that day and changed the CD's before
pressing random play.  Taking a final glance at the room she sighed contentedly and made her way to
the kitchen so she could grab a glass of coke to drink while she indulged in a soaking hot bath.
 
***
 
As Spike walked down the darkened corridor the stench grew.  The smell of rotting flesh, dead flesh,
clotted and soured blood, it filled his senses, overwhelmed him, disgusted him.  He paused outside the
door, his hand enclosing about the handle, clenched his jaw and pushed the door open. It swung easily,
revealing the room and his eyes fell on the macabre display of tattered and torn corpses. Silk scarves
covered some of their eyes, the rest stared blindly, eyelids torn off, the eyeballs withered and dry.  The
mouths that weren't similarly bound by scarves had been forced open, the tongues had been torn out
leaving the mouth cavity hollow and dark.  Hands were tied together, fingers had been severed and nails
torn from the beds.  The chest of each corpse had been viciously ripped open, the flesh torn, ribs
shattered and exposed.  
 
Humming from the bed distracted him from the ghastly sight of the corpses rotting in pools of their own
stagnant and soured blood. Slowly Spike turned to face the white lace covered bed. There she was, dark
hair pulled off her face, pale skin framed brilliantly bright eyes while her lips moved, whispering the
words of the song that eased the torment of her mind.  Her hands were held above bloodied hearts, like
she was trying to be warmed by the heat the various rotting hearts once held. 
 
"Drusilla," purred Spike, trying to tempt her from the depths of madness.  She stopped rocking and
looked up at him, her face breaking into a lascivious smile.
 
"You're home," she crooned, bringing a hand up to caress her neck.
 
"Mmm," he muttered offhandedly walking over to the bed and glancing down at the hearts, noting that
one was really nothing more than putrefied muscle. Drusilla followed his gaze, her hands reaching out to
stroke her treasures.
 
"I've been collecting hearts..." she murmured, half closing her eyes in pleasure.
 
"I can see that," Spike stated, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "And smell it..."
 
"Angel hearts," she sighed, bending down to inhale the sweet aroma of the rotting organs.
 
"Bloody hell, they're not Angel hearts..." snapped Spike twisting away from her and walking over to the
corpses.
 
"Yes...yes...yes..." she whimpered her hands flying up to cradle her head.  Stopping her whimpering and
rocking she raised her head, her long index fingers dragging across the smooth cool flesh of her face and
ran her tongue along her teeth. Moving she stood up and almost glided over to stand in front of him, her
hands reaching out to him, one snaking about his neck while the other spanned across his chest.  Smiling
she stepped in closer, tilting her head back.  "Angel...hearts."
 
Spike growled and knocked her hand away from his chest, shifting slightly to put a little more distance
between them.  She pouted and whimpered lightly, her hand once more moving to his chest, the fingers
splaying across the material of his t-shirt.  Her eyes widened and she gasped, glancing up at his face.
 
"You've started the fire... consumed it and it consumes you...you burn too strong...stronger than..." she
murmured.  Spike cut her off.
 
"Why'd you leave them?" he asked, studying her face intently.
 
"Shhh," she whispered her long fingers pressed against his lips as she rolled her head back, dark hair
cascading over her shoulders.  She pressed her body against him, her lips barely millimetres from his
ear.  "You'll wake them..."
 
"I doubt that," Spike stated raising an eyebrow.  Dru leant her head against his shoulder and closed her
eyes, one hand still clasped his neck while the other moved down, brushing against his chest and
stomach.
 
"Dance with me?" she whispered her hand moving down, fingers rubbing over his groin.  Silently he
closed his eyes and swallowed.  She smiled, her head twisting on his shoulder, her lips brushed across
his neck.  "We use to dance...all the time..."
 
Planting soft kisses she moved along his neck working up to kiss his jaw, her body closing in against his,
rubbing against him.  Finally her lips caught his ear.
 
"Angel," she whispered against him as her hands caressed his body.
 
"Damn it Dru," Spike hissed pushing her away.  Whimpering she reached out to touch his chest again only
to have him grab her wrist, twisting it cruelly, making her gasp in pleasure.  She opened her mouth, a
soft moan escaping as she rolled her head forward, looking up at him through lowered lashes.
 
"I'm daddy's princess," she purred, her eyes shining and maniacal.
 
"That you bloody well are Dru," snarled Spike pushing her hand away in disgust, turning he walked out
the door, slamming it shut.  Dru laughed softly and drifted back to the bed.  Draping herself across the
bed she let her long fingers run across the hearts.
 
"I've got Angel hearts," she murmured, unaware that Spike was already gone.
 
"Marcus," hollered Spike striding away from the room.  Suddenly a fair-haired vampire was by his side. 
"Why the fuck is the room like that?  Have someone clean it out."
 
Spike hadn't even waited for a reply to his question.  He really didn't want to know.  He started to walk
away, stopped and turned back to the minion who was still standing where he'd been addressed.  Spike
stood for a moment, taking his time in lighting a cigarette.  
 
"Let her do what she pleases..." Spike murmured looking down at his feet, he had instructed the minions
to keep her safe.  He took another long drag on his cigarette and shook his head.  "She isn't my concern
anymore."
 
Without looking back he walked away from the house that had been his main residence for the past few
months and headed back up town...back to his queen.
 
***
 
Willow moved, hips swinging in time to the music, fingers running lightly across her body as it swayed
and moved.  She was being silly, dancing to loud music on the coffee table.  She was so lost in the
movement, in the music pumping through the sound system, that she didn't even hear Spike come back,
but she felt him. Still she danced on.  
 
Spike stood for a moment, watching as she moved, watching the way her simple dress clung to her,
moved with her.  Quietly he took off his duster, casually throwing it down on one of the couches as he
passed by to sit down in the chair.  She smiled down at him as he took off his boots, his feet moving to
rest on the coffee table she was dancing on.  
 
"Spike?" she questioned, frowning slightly at his darkened eyes.  She stopped dancing to watch him. 
 
"Dance for me, pet," he murmured.  Willow hesitated for a moment before closing her eyes briefly and
letting the music envelop her again, her body moving slowly, seductively.
 
Spike leant back against the chair and watched as his queen danced.  Her hips swayed, her hands
twirling in the air, arms raising above her head before dropping back down so her fingers could brush
against her soft curves.  Red hair, soft and fine, framed pale skin and her wonderfully clear eyes.  Eyes
that reflected sanity, intelligence and desire...desire for him.  He stood up and walked around the coffee
table, his eyes taking in every perfect detail of her.  Sighing he stepped up onto the table standing behind
her, his hands snaking about her body as he stepped into her.
 
She giggled.  A soft sound of amusement.  As his hands brushed across her warm body, teasing her
flesh, he rested his chin against her shoulder and his eyes focused on his hands as they worked over her
body.  Slowly, entwined in his arms, she continued to dance, with Spike moving in perfect unison with
her. Slow and sensual.  One of his hands moved to cup her breast through the thin material of her dress
while the other caressed her cheek with a gentle pressure, urging her head to turn.  Lips found lips and
his tongue flicked across her lips, a soft pressure asking permission to take her mouth, which opened. 
His tongue explored her mouth, tasting her, dancing with hers.  
 
Willow moaned lightly against his mouth, one of her hands moved to capture the back of his head,
holding him to her as he deepened the kiss. Her other hand moved to stroke his thigh as she pushed back
against him.  No matter how wonderful it was she wanted more, so she broke the kiss and turned in his
arms, her own wrapping about his waist.  Face to face they swayed together, moving slowly and
seductively, their bodies melding together.  Spike leant forward his mouth claiming hers again before she
pulled away from him and her fingers tugged at his shirt pulling it from his jeans.  He helped her remove
it, watching her flushed face as her eyes roamed over his naked chest, her fingers drawing delicate
patterns on the exposed flesh.  Growling possessively he pulled her back into him, his hands crushing her
to him, tangling in her hair and squeezing her ass as his tongue dominated her mouth.  Still they
continued to sway together in time with the music and Spike tore his mouth away from hers, lowering his
head to kiss and bite his way down her neck.  Loosening his hold he pulled down the flimsy straps of her
dress, letting it fall and expose her pert breasts to his questing tongue and mouth.  Purring he suckled
against her as his arm continued to hold her tight, the other hand pushing her dress down and delving
between her legs.  He moaned against her breast as his fingers found her wet.
 
"Spike," she moaned against his hair, her fingers clawing at his back.  His fingers were teasing her clit
while his mouth sucked at her hard nipples.  Using her weight as leverage she let herself collapse back
against the hard surface of the coffee table, dragging Spike down on top of her.  Her hands flew down to
his jeans, yanking the fly open and pushing them down.  Lifting off her briefly Spike ripped them off
tossing them eagerly aside as Willow reached for him again.  "Spike..." she murmured against his ear,
humour tainting her voice as she wrapped her legs about him.  "You're killing me here."
 
Growling his eyes flashed gold before he wrapped her in his arms and slammed into her.  Willow
whimpered in pleasure, her arms wrapping about him, holding onto him as he started to rhythmically
slam into her.  His mouth crushed hers, his tongue teasing and dominating hers.  She writhed beneath
him, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust.  One of her legs hooked over his hip, her foot arching into his
ass urging him deeper with every thrust.  Tearing his mouth away he continued to pound into her, feeling
her hips roll beneath him letting her get the pressure she needed against her clit.  He watched as her
eyes, firmly locked on his, darkened and widened.  Her hands clawed at him, nails digging into his firm
ass driving him forward into her. 
 
"Spike," she hissed out, her legs clamping down around him as her muscles shook around him, hands
digging deeper into his flesh as she came.  His name was all it took with a final thrust his hips jerked
roughly against her as he flooded her with his semen.  Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against
her chest, his lips tasting the salty sweat covered skin. 
 
"Willow," he murmured against her warm flesh, still holding her tightly in his arms even as he felt her
legs loosen their hold on him, her breathing coming in ragged pants.  He smiled against her chest.  "My
beautiful queen." 


TBC.......