I Take The Dice

By Bloodshedbaby

This is a Spike/Willow pairing. If you're looking for spuffy, please do not read!

I have never written a pairing other than spuffy, so be gentle!! Feedback would be esp. welcome!!
a/n- I apologize in advance if this plot is similar to another fic already written, it is not intentional, I swear!!! *points to first note*

 this is seriously unbeta'd 

I Take The Dice

Part 1

Blind terror.

Willow finally got it, what exactly that meant. Or to be more precise, what it felt like. She was practically a human dictionary definition here.

These random thoughts kept popping into her brain as she rushed down the dorm hall, her mind in such the major panic mode that the world just seemed to melt away until the only thing she had left was fear - more fear- and then a whole lot more fear.

Well, that and the dawning knowledge that death was right on her heels.

Literally.

It made her sloppy and weak; her fight or flight response hampered in a major way.

Willow risked a quick look behind her and seriously wished she hadn’t. She was still being pursued by one of the fairy tale freaks, all with the flesh covered skeletal look and the floating at a suave, misleading pace behind her; the same creepy, genteel smile frozen in place….

Not to mention the bloody scalpel poised and at the ready.

Giles’ pictures hadn’t done these guys justice, that was for sure.

A mental image of that scalpel entering her flesh while she was helpless to stop it - her heart plucked from her chest cavity as her life irreversibly ended suddenly entered her mind. It served to send a fresh deluge of panic coursing through her and she wasted precious seconds trying a door along the corridor in her desperate need to share this with someone else, not wanting to be alone.

Locked. She banged helplessly; her mouth open and vocal cords strained in her futile effort to scream

Another quick look behind her and she was off again, praying that Buffy would once again manage to save the day, like she always had before.

She made it to the stairwell and threw herself down, her legs refusing to work in proper order, causing her to stumble down the last flight. Wrenching open the door to the student recreation floor, she ran through it, almost crying at the pain that shot through her leg.

Fairy tale creatures, her Aunt Fanny. More like Fairy Hell creatures.

The floor was empty, an oddity in itself, knowing that it was typically occupied in one form or another.

Not tonight, however. No students doing laundry or wandering down to the vending machines with the late night munchies. The whole losing the voice thing had actually managed to freak the town out, leaving them unable to do their typical turning-a-blind-eye-to-evil routine.

Willow could see the door up ahead that would take her outside. Buffy was out there somewhere and finding Buffy was of the good because she usually made the bad stuff go away. There had been lots of times when Willow had been freaked since knowing Buffy, with the whole vampire slaying aspect of the friendship.

But what was behind her at this moment was beyond the bad, and had everything to do with the helplessness of not being able to call for help, or try to talk her way out it.

And turning around again to see how much of a lead she had?

Not helpful, she realized, when she found the floating freak even closer and felt even more hysteria taking root

Add picturing her heart in a jar and she was back to blind terror again. In a last ditch effort, Willow took the corridor to the right, hoping to lose her deadly pursuer. Immediately she realized the stupidity of her move when her quickest route to the outdoors and finding Buffy and the others was taken way from her.

Then she learned that blind terror also made her clumsy when she tripped over her own feet and fell hard to the ground, her head bouncing off the floor. Momentarily stunned with the breath knocked out of her, she lay motionless on the dingy blue industrial carpet as she frantically fought to regain her senses.

It was only a span of mere seconds, yet she was left with the knowledge that it had managed to make all the difference. Her senses regained, she could just make out the sinister shadow of her deadly pursuer reaching the point where she had taken her abrupt turn in an attempt at evasive tactics. She could practically feel the evil just about to turn the corner.

Any head start she may have had was now forfeit as she struggled to regain her footing, her lungs burning with the need to draw oxygen into her body, and she made one last attempt to avoid the inevitable. But she knew it was futile when she saw the scalpel come into view, the monster wielding it only a mere second behind, ready to turn the corner and here she was with the serious incapacitation.

She was going to die.

Tbc….


 
In an ineffective effort to regain her footing, Willow wound up mimicking the female lead in every bad horror movie she had ever seen; desperately scooting across the floor on her ass in a vital attempt to put even the smallest amount of distance between herself and the mannerly mockery of the grim reaper that would soon have her in its disturbing sight once more.

‘Run! Don’t be that girl!’ she screeched at herself, hating herself for her weakness and her ineffectiveness. This wasn‘t her. This used to be her, this babbling coward, but time and Buffy had put an end to that. If she learned that these creepy things had the ability to slow down the clock, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing she had ever learned. Each second gone by only escalated her dread and she didn’t dare blink in case she missed something significant. It was slow to dawn on her that her tormentor had paused in his pursuit.

A small spark of hope flared.

Not one to waste an opportunity, Willow attempted to make it to her feet before dizziness once again assaulted her with the same stunning brutality. This time only making it as far as her knees before stumbling to the ground, her stomach rolling with nausea. Tears pooled up in the depths of her haunted green eyes and Willow found herself tortured with bittersweet memories of those she would be leaving behind. Buffy… Xander… Giles…

‘You wus,’ a voice from within her cried, ‘You’re just giving up! Move!’

Heeding her internal voice, Willow took a deep, calming breath and was rewarded when the room stopped spinning a tiny bit.

The emergency exit was located just down the hall… She just had to reach it and she would be ok, she told herself, trying to muster up a hint of her well patented resolve.

Keeping an eye on the corridor, Willow managed to make it all the way to her feet this time. Sparing a precious few seconds to allow the accompanying dizziness to pass, she determinedly struck out for the glowing ‘exit’ sign, knowing that there would be no one coming to her aid on the deserted campus.

She had been really stupid.

One foot in front of another and she thought she was making some progress until another glance over her shoulder showed that the creature was on the move again, albeit moving much slower than the previous chase.

She was so screwed.

And she was so going to die, she thought with mounting despair.

Focusing her effort on the neon site at the end of the hall, Willow was taken completely by surprise when something hard struck her from the side; her shriek of fright going unheard as returning dizziness made it impossible for her to think. She succumbed to the knowledge that one of the lumbering side freaks had managed to snatch her and was currently dragging her down the hall.

With her vision blurred and the room spinning, her attempts at escape were minimal, at best.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Summoning all of her energy in trying to get away, she didn’t realize that they were heading towards her initial destination, events having taken on an almost surreal edge. Willow attempted to open her eyes but when that was accompanied by a serious bout of nausea, she rethought that plan and screwed them shut. Somehow, Willow figured her death would come easier if she didn’t puke all over them. .

She was only marginally aware when the creature came to an abrupt stop, one arm wrapped around her torso, holding her up. When a door closed shut with quiet regard, Willow braved a potential puke-fest and lifted her head up from its previous defeated slump, suddenly desperate to see the final moments preceding her demise.

Only to have the breath knocked out of her once more.

Willow didn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t being slammed up into something hard and sandwiched against the wall in front of her and a firm body pressed into her back. A pair of steely arms banded around either side of her head as she desperately tried to figure out what was going on. Her brain felt seriously woozy and she didn’t even dare breathe, fearing the worst. Being smooshed made any respiratory attempts difficult, she soon discovered.

She glanced down, hoping for a clue as to what was occurring. She definitely didn’t expect the steel band of an arm to be covered in black, thinking a more strait-jacket white would be greeting her.

A spark of optimism ignited and she willed her hand to move from being smashed against the wall to finger the source of color.

Not just black, but black leather.

Braving the return of her fading dizziness, Willow dared to turn her head just a fraction, desperate for confirmation of just who was behind her, hoping fervently that she was correct. A flash of white and pair of furious, grim set lips greeted her.

Spike.

Relief like none she had ever experienced struck her suddenly, finding Spike the least likely of all heroes. It didn‘t really matter though because she wasn‘t alone anymore and the breathe she had been holding was released in one long exhalation, leaving her body limp in the aftermath.

Spike had her.
tbc...
Part 3


Spike had her.

There was a surprising lack of wig knowing that it was Spike who had come to her rescue; leaving her mind free to jump from one random point of flawed logic to another, as was typical for Willow under duress.


Somehow she knew it would be ok now - because as far as evil went? Spike rarely ventured north of the border, even with his chip - and surely there was a code of honor among the evil people that would leave him, well… exempt from the invasion of the heart-snatchers. Especially since he did have something in common with them, being dead and the guys being dead…

Oh! And the fact that the wall and Spike were making her a Willow sandwich, that probably meant she would be exempt too…

This internal babble fest could not keep up indefinitely, however. The emotional aftermath of being that close to death, only to be saved just at the last possible second brought it to a sudden end, and tears of relief began streaming down her cheeks.

Desperate to convey her gratitude, Willow attempted to twist around so at the very least, she could mouth ‘thank you‘, wanting him to know the extent of her appreciation. She even had a sudden urge for the dorky whiteboard that she’d thrown at the floating Crypt Keeper guy when he had first come after her, increasingly frustrated by her lack of voice.

Only her actions now prompted a response from the vampire that she had not anticipated. She didn’t exactly hear the growl, but she sure as tootin’ felt it. His entire chest shook with the ferocity of his snarl, and Willow’s eyes widened with baffled shock and flew to his face, suddenly aware of the fact that he may not have been doing the undead life save-age thing after all. And why hadn’t she thought of that right from the start? That he wasn’t there to help, but to aid in her death?

Because she didn’t want it to be true, is why.

Willow didn’t know why he held her pinned against the wall, but somehow was feeling more than just a little betrayed. For some dumb reason, she’d been under the impression that Spike was over the wanting her dead thing. The others? Ok, maybe not so much.

Since Spike had come to them for help, Willow had gone over and over this in her mind, and had finally came to the conclusion that she was sure he had helped her that time at her dorm when the commando guys stormed the place to recapture him. Ok, so he had tried to kill her that night - more than once, even - but he’d also made her feel better about herself with a few sentences and one big wowie-packed look than anybody else had managed to.

They’d had a moment that night, Willow was sure of it. When he had tucked his tongue behind his teeth and leered at her in memory of her fluffy sweater, that had been definite moment material, darn it. Just when she’d sunk to the lowest point in her life, he had made her feel worthy. Sexy, even.

So much so, she had forgotten that he was a bad guy - even offering him another chance to try biting her. Luckily, she had regrettably seen the bad with that and had promptly smashed him over the head with a lamp and escaped out her dorm room…

Right into the Commando guys, who had seriously failed to act like the good guys they were supposed to be. Instead of feeling safe by their proximity, Willow deemed Spike the lesser of two evils as she listened to the Commandos argue amongst themselves whether to take her in the off chance she had been contaminated with demon cooties. But then Spike had ran through her door and knocked them away, taking the focus off of her.

Yeah, it had been Buffy who had saved the day, but Spike could just as easily jumped out her window and gotten to safety rather than running straight into well-armed guys that were trying to capture him.

Had she been fooling herself into believing that he had done that for her?

But with the aftermath of his silent snarl reverberating through her body, Willow had to admit this wasn’t looking good. Her fight or flight kicked back in and she mentally prepared herself for trying to break free from his deadly hold. Again.


Using the element of surprise, Willow struggled violently against his unyielding grip to free herself, the air pushed from her lungs when his arms quickly banded around her ribcage, capturing her own arms tightly against her chest. Trying to gain purchase against the wall with her feet, she threw herself backwards, wincing when he retaliated by squashing her even more into the unforgiving wall. So smoosh-worthy, in fact, her ribs were creaking in protest.

Being denied oxygen caused a world of panic, and her movements became frantic. Desperate to get some weight off her so she could take a breath, she couldn’t help but wonder why he was suffocating her and not using his fangs, before remembering the chip. Maybe it was just fang related?

Just as that random thought passed through her head, Willow felt a bolt of something zap him, getting a second-hand zapping herself. But it served to create lull in the crushing vise that was his body, allowing her to suck in a lungful of oxygen. She felt another jolt go through him and warily looked behind her, unsure of what she would find.

Even in the barely lit laundry room, the look of pain and anger on his face was undeniable. But the entirety of her focus was on the set of bared fangs that greeted her.

She sighed heavily and allowed the fight to go out of her body, that voice in her head giving her a seeing to once more. Given the choice of Spike’s fangs or having her heart cut out… well, she’d go for bachelor #1, thank you very much.

Defeated and not just a little tired, she heaved another soundless sigh and waited, resting her cheek against the coolness of the wall that she was becoming well-acquainted with. She just hoped the chip gave him hell and that her blood tasted really icky.

Seconds ticked away. Willow could feel a series of harsh breaths against her neck and wondering why he was even bothering, with oxygen not required to sustain his unlife. What was he waiting for?

But instead of being sliced open with fangs, all the vampire did was flick her roughly in the fleshy part of her earlobe with his index finger, startling her with the unexpectedness of it. She’d anticipated pain and lots of it, followed by a hopefully blessed ending, not this irritating sting. Whipping her head around, she saw the grimace of pain and felt marginally better that this method of getting her attention most likely hurt him more than it had her

It still didn’t explain what he was doing here.
Part 4
It still didn’t explain what he was doing here though.

Willow found Spike light on the fangs, but heavy with the scowling and definitely experiencing some serious impatience. When he arched his eyebrow in that sardonic, but kinda sexy way he did, Willow realized that she must have missed something. A vital something that Spike obviously thought she shouldn’t have missed. But then again, this was Spike and he seemed to irritate easily.



“What?” she mouthed defensively, again wishing for the whiteboard. Not that she could write or anything, with her hands smooshed like they were, but still.

When his nostrils flared in response and his eyes narrowed, Willow figured he was battling some issues because she’d seen him do that nose flaring thing before. The other time he had not killed her and had stuck a broken bottle in her face, when she had told him she didn‘t have the book to do the spell. Yep, he’d definitely been battling some issues that time.

Willow didn’t know what to expect next, but anticipated something along the lines of more ear-flicking or squashing. She was actually surprised when he warily released one of her arms, almost as if he expected her to use the slight independence to attempt another escape.

Not wanting him to use his super strength to pin her against the wall again, Willow merely regarded him with an inquisitive tempered look, blinking innocently.

If possible, his impatience seemed to increase at her insincere attempt at appeasing him- if the tightly clenched jaw and heavy rise and fall of his chest against her back was anything to go by. When he abruptly pointed towards the door, her eyes followed his gesture obediently, trying to figure out what in the world he was trying to tell her. She nodded to alert him that she understood that part because hello, she was scared, not stupid. But when his arm swung around and gestured towards her chest… well, that was a different story altogether

Major self-confidence issues in the cleavage department had Willow immediately assuming that the vampire was making some sort of statement about her obvious lack of boobage. Of course it didn’t help that she was being smashed against a wall, so what chest she did have? Way beyond flattened.

She glared at him with all the intensity of her suppressed insecurity. To think that she’d actually been pretty impressed by his sensitivity that night he’d come to kill Buffy and settled. Ok, so he was a vampire, but he was also a guy and usually guys weren‘t that good at doing the whole insightful thing. Next thing he’d be telling her she was fat.

++

Spike’s eyes rolled with increasing ire, once more asking himself what the bloody fuck he was doing here. Stupid bint. Finally losing all patience, he flung his body off of her slight form, grabbed her hand and stuffed it down the front of her shirt; patting the area above her heart in hope that she figured it out.

Seeing the look of outraged shock on her face, Spike knew the girl hadn’t gotten past the fact that his hand was now down her top. Her skin felt welcoming beneath his fingers - too welcoming, in fact - and he ripped his hand away before he did something stupid like fondle her tit… or worse.

Cupping his hand around his ear, he tried to demonstrate the concept of sound and hearing before placing his palm against the left side of her chest, trying to indicate he was referring to her heart and not her sweet titties like she apparently thought

It was obvious when she finally connected the dots and understood what he was attempting to tell her. Spike watched as her expressive green eyes grew wide, her mouth forming a perfect little ’O’ as she stared at him in dawning comprehension.

Damned if she didn’t look good enough to eat.

A muted bang outside the door caused her to jerk back against him, and those eyes that had been filled with comprehension now flooded with undeniable fear.

God, it smelled good.

With a heavy sigh, Spike pushed her back against the wall, one arm slung heavily across her chest and over her heart, the other banded around her torso to keep her firmly against him; the epitome of an undead muffler

He could sense the creatures right outside the room, probably trying to suss out what happened to their nice, fresh heartbeat. Well, he wasn’t letting them getting a piece of this girl. He’d keep her heartbeat nice and muted all day if he had to, those sods could find themselves some other heart to rip out. They weren’t getting this one.

Spike visibly jerked at the direction his thoughts had just taken him, not wanting to admit that there was more going on here than merely him wanting to be the one who did her in.

It had become personal.

Jaw clenched, Spike shook his head in disgust. He was fucked. He should have figured the night would only get worse, considering the piss-poor beginning.

Spike cringed when he thought back to earlier that evening, when he’d escaped the basement squalor he’d been tied up in. He’d almost felt… cheated by their lack of proper measures in confining him. It rankled because they had obviously forgotten who they were dealing with, chip or no chip.

Chained to the wanker’s bathtub? Yeah, they had showed him the proper respect there. Uncomfortable, but they had been wary, afraid even- not wanting to take any chances with the Big Bad.

But tied with a couple of girly scout knots to an orange vinyl lounger in the dank basement of a schmuck who wasn‘t even bite worthy? They’d better believe that payback was going to be a bitch for that one.

Once freed, he’d quickly found himself bored, deciding to look up the evil in town. At the very least, he could hope to score some blood of the just recently deceased variety, rather than the pig swill he had been forced to endure.

Denying that he found the town’s unnatural silence unnerving, Spike had followed his nose to the campus, and finally to the very dormitory where he’d practically had his manhood ripped to shreds and stomped on just days earlier. It had been yet another fucked situation in a long line of fucked situations, having gone to kill the slayer bitch once and for all only to be faced with the knowledge that he found the slayer’s absence preferable. But when his attempt at biting this girl that he’d always found very biteable had resulted in blinding pain, it had taken on an even more surreal kind of fucked.

tbc

This wasn't beta'd so excuse the mistakes!
tbc..