Part One- Early Afternoon in May

"Are you sure you'll be okay, Wills?" Buffy asked, sitting up on her twin bed, concern written in the scrunched up lines of her smooth forehead.

"Yeah, Buffy.  I'll be okay", Willow smiled, what she hoped was a reassuring smile at her best girlfriend.  "You know I haven't really been sleeping well lately, what with all the stress these past two semesters.  I mean first Oz and I break up, then he leaves to `find himself', Tara and I don't work out, although we're still really good friends, my spells keep going awry.  Think about it; if I had tried that de-ratting spell out on Amy last week, I could've turned her into something worse.  I just really need to get some quality snooze-time before my last final tomorrow and I can't do it here in the dorm: otherwise known as `Party Central'.  I think bunking at my parents' place is the best thing for me, besides, they give me run of the house whenever they're out of town, which is most
of the time," Willow finally paused for a much-needed breath. < I couldn't even tell her the entire truth.  But how in the world was I supposed to tell my best friend that I've been having scandalous dreams about her ex?  And not the nice ensouled one, the Demon for goddess' sake! Eep!  It's a good thing I'm taking a break.>

"Well, you do look a tad bit peaked, to say the least.  Maybe a little break from the dorms is in order," Buffy conceded without anymore pressure. "Just call if you need anything".

Willow sighed with barely restrained relief and replied, "Thanks, Buffy.  I'll call if anything happens". With that, the petite redhead picked up her backpack and overnight bag and hugged Buffy on her way out of their sunlit room.
 

Part Two- late that evening

"You want me, Willow.  The scent of your desire calls to me," Angelus crooned in a low sensual lilt.  He straddled her slight form and gently blew into the delicate shell of her ear.  "Why do you deny yourself? Why do you deny me?  Your acquiescence is your release, my release.  Let me love you; let me bring you the satisfaction that the wolf and witch never could," Angelus coaxed in teasingly measured tones.

Willow breathed shallowly as she found herself in the same predicament as the nights before.  Bound naked to a four poster bed with cream colored silken scarves, she tried not to listen to Angelus, who hovered over her, whispering dark honeyed promises and forbidden caresses. <It's just a dream> she whispered to herself in her head, repeating it like a mantra or a fervent prayer.

All rational thought escaped her as Angelus dipped his masculine, artistically long hands to cover her fevered breasts.  A slow flush bloomed from the place where his hands and now mouth, ministered to her ever-hardening nipples, and spread to her face. Breathlessly, she let out a low animalistic moan.  Angelus gently laid his head against the hot silken skin that was Willow's breast, his hands spanning her slim ribs.  "Let me in, Willow, and I'll give you everything you desire.  Say yes.  Let me out of your dreams and into reality so that we can be together."  A hand danced across the flat expanse of her belly, trailing lower still, to the moist, hot apex at the heart of her.  Angelus moved up and with his other hand, and cupped the back of Willow's head gently.  As his cool mouth touched hers, his tongue entering her mouth as his fingers sought entrance into her heat.  Willow responded immediately, writhing against his teasing hand, dueling with his tongue.  Heat and chills raced up and down her spine and Angelus moved his thumb to the source of her pleasure, rubbing, pressing.  Seeking her response, the vampire tore his mouth from hers, moving to nuzzle the soft column of her neck.  "Let me, Willow.  Just say `yes'…" he growled softly, applying more pressure to her already sensitized clit. "No," she let out a ragged moan, "I can't let you out, I won't" she said, even as she moved desperately in concert against his urgent hand.  At the sound of her tortured answer, Angelus sighed, withdrew from her neck, crouched between her splayed legs, all the while, not breaking the rhythm of his teasing hand.

Looking down at his emerald-eyed obsession, he conceded for tonight, sexily arching one eyebrow.  "No? Then I want you to take something to remember me by until tomorrow night.  Come for me, Willow.  Come now!" he growled, bending over her inner thigh, planting a brief kiss.

Willow's response was immediate.  She bucked against his hand as her release hit her like a crashing warm ocean wave. "Ohh, yes, Angelus. Noo!"

*    *    *    *

It was a cool, late night as Spike sauntered down the middle of the quiet residential streets of Sunnydale, his black leather duster swinging with his slightest movement, puffed with pride over his latest demon kill.  <Cor, perhaps it's not, so bad living with this chip inside me bleedin' head.  At least I still get to kill the big bad that goes bump in the night> The bleach-blond smiled to himself as he entertained thoughts of teaming up with the Slayer again. Touching her, saving her, smelling her…Spike's reverie was cut short by a piercing wail that rent the evening's quiet.

He sighed, moving quickly down a suburban street, realizing that he was on the same street that the redhead's parents lived, the same direction the screams were coming from.  Thinking to score points with Buffy for rescuing her friends' parents, he scrambled up the rose covered trellis to a set of French doors, which lead toWillow's room.   Throwing open the doors, he was startled by the sight that greeted him.

Not Red's parents, but Red herself, splayed in a wantonly spread-eagle pose across her bed!  Spike started to mumble apologies, until his sensitive nose registered not only intense arousal, but fear and blood.  Spike crossed to the bed quickly looking her body over for signs of injury.  It was the sight of her thighs, which drew his attention, and to his chagrin, faint stirrings of arousal.  As he leaned toward her injury, he noticed that the flow of blood was almost stanched.  Not before it had mixed with saliva, sweat and Willow's unique perfume.  Spike, angered, sniffed at the area, hoping that he could identify which vamp took a nibble out of his friend. He reared back in wonder as the answer to the culprit's identity dawned on him.  "I'll be damned," he said.

Willow was still in a state of blessed unconsciousness as Spike attempted to rouse her from her slumber.  "Willow", he said, "It's me, Spike.  Wake up, Red".  Willow moaned, tossing her head from side to side, coming out of her reverie.  "A-Angelus, no…", she pleaded. "Wake up, sweet, it's Spike", he insisted.  Willow revealed a glassy-eyed daze as she slowly came to.

"Spike.  Spike!  What are you doing here?", she whispered frantically.  Spike smiled gently at her and replying, "Saving you, what else?  Are you feeling alright?"  Willow, silently thanking the goddess that she was granted a reprieve from her intense dreamworld, nodded her head.  "I think I'm okay".  She sat up saying, "I think I need to-eep!", just noticing her unclothed state.  "Spike," she said in an embarrassed little-girl voice, "Excuse me, I seem to be having a slight case of nakedness here."

Spike, standing up, chuckled underneath his breath and said, "I'll say.  It's okay, I won't look," He scanned the room for anything resembling clothing and gave up.  Wrapping her in the bed's blanket, he picked Willow up asking, "Where's the bathroom in this place, Ducks?  We should get you into a warm bath."  Willow, pointed the way.  Spike deposited her, blanket and all on the toilet seat and fumbled with the tub's knobs, adjusting the flow and water temperature.  As it was filling, he queried, "Okay, Red.  What's going on? Why do I smell my sire on you when I know he's two hours away; probably gallivanting off to save the less fortunate souls of LA? Angelus isn't back, because I don't sense his presence.  What have you been up to?  Another spell gone awry?", he waggled his eyebrows at her, making a silly attempt to lighten the mood of the tense witch.

"Spike, I'm not all too sure of what's going on myself, but maybe we can muddle through it after I soak for a while and get cleaned up", she pleaded with him.

"Alright, then.  Your reprieve is granted.  For now, that is.  After your bout with Mr. Bubbles, you're going to have to fess up," he relented, shutting off the valves.  "You want tea? I'll brew us up a pot in the kitchen," he offered.  "Yeah, tea would be good," Willow paused before saying, "Thanks." Spike turned to exit when her voice stopped him.  "Thanks, also, for waking me up, Spike," He paused, giving her a questioning look, then turned shutting the door.

As she soaked in her bath, Spike bounded downstairs, put a kettle on the burner and reached for the phone mounted on the wall.  He quickly dialed the memorized numbers and got a live voice, a novelty in the twenty-first century.  "Angel Investigations, this is Angel".

"Angel, it's Spike.  There's something going on with Red", Spike said.
 

Part Three

In LA, ensconced in his dark leather chair, Angel jumped hastily out of his seat at the reference to Willow.  Incensed at the thought that Willow might be suffering or worse. "What do you mean, Spike?  Is she hurt? I'm coming out there.  Did you do something-," Angel was cut off the Spike voice.

"Cor, Angel!  Calm down, I didn't lay a fang on her.  I actually saved her, well, at least temporarily," the blond vampire said, unconsciously shrugging his shoulders.  "Besides, why are you all of a sudden so concerned about Willow for?  Don't tell me you're carrying a torch for her.   Are you?" Spike teased, grinning into the phone.

"Spike..," Angel growled warningly, slightly miffed that he'd managed to hit the nail on the head.  "Alright, just playing with you, forget I said it," Spike's tone turned serious as he continued. "But, she happened onto a real nasty situation, though.  Red's been marked."

"What?!  Marked?  By what vamp?  Give me his name and he's dust come sun up", Angel fired at Spike. "Well, you see, Poof," Spike said mumbling, as he lit up a cigarette, "It'd be kinda hard to carry out that tall order, since you'd only be committing suicide. You marked her, or at least your demon, Angelus did."

"What do you mean, my demon hasn't be free in years, Spike", Angel countered.   Spike reloaded, "Angel, man, your scent was all over her.  Are you hearing me, I could smell you.  I don't know what to tell you, except to say that:  Sunnyhell does sit on the Hellmouth and Red's spells haven't been coming off too well lately; not to mention the dual stress of wolf-boy and teen-witch ditching her. Seems to me, she's suffering from a bit of depression, as these Americans like to call it.", Spike rambled in an all-too gossipy tone.

"Wait.  Are you telling me that Oz left her?  And who's the witch?", Angel asked in confusion, shaking his head.  "Willow never told me about Oz.  I thought we were close", Angel continued in an injured tone.

"Look, mate.  All that's history.  Live in the now.  Either she's being haunted or she misfired with a spell and didn't say anything to anyone about it." Spike answered.  "Either way, she looks like hell, she's not sleeping much and when she does, your demon pulls a Freddy Krueger on her.  I think she's in trouble and needs our help.  You know she's not the type to reach out, so we're going to have to figure it out ourselves."

"You're right.", Angel conceded. "Willow's safety should come first in all this" Angel said agreeing with his childe. "I'm going to wake up Giles and see if there's anything he can find in his books, I'll rouse Cordy and Wesley so that they can ferret out information on this end.  You stay with Willow and look after her until we find something." Angel ordered.

"You got it, Peaches", his childe confirmed.  "I'll stick to her like flies to cow chips," Spike said, flicking the last of his cigarette into the metal kitchen sink.
 

Two hours later

"Oh my." Giles pushed back his glasses onto his forehead and sighed as he sat with one of Tara's borrowed spellbooks in hand.  Picking up a desk phone, he dialed Angel.  At the office, Cordelia, Wesley and Angel all looked at the ringing phone.  Angel quickly strolled across the room to get to it first.  "Giles, what do you have for me?"

"Well, Angel. It turns out, that my books turned up no information. Given what you've told me about Willow's previous relationship with Tara.  I called her.  She tells me that Willow was searching for a particular spell in the recent weeks.  Tara advised her not to do it, having more familiarity with those arts.  She thought it was too dangerous, but Willow was insistent.  It's also apparently what brought their friendship to an end."

"What does the spell do, Giles?" Angel pressed.

"Ah-Angel.  The spell was to restore your soul to you permanently and banish your demon."  Angel was floored, to say the least.   <Why would she attempt to do such a thing, she knows how dangerous attempting a powerful spell like that would be? >

Giles muttered, "When a spell of this origin, particularly of the ancient Hanjo tribe, is cast, there tend to be some side effects. Willow either disregarded that fact or was ignorant of them at the time.  Given what you and Tara have told me, I assume that things are not at all well."

Angel's undead heart knocked nervously around in his chest.  "So what is it that's happening to Willow?  Is the demon attacking her?  And why?  How do we stop it?", he fired off at the harried Watcher on the other side of the phone.

Giles drew a deep breath before answering, "Angel, when Willow cast the spell to rid you of your demon, a door was opened creating a triad, namely between yourself, Angelus and Willow.  There now exists a latent bond between yourself and Willow.  Angelus is thrown into the mix when she is at her weakest.  Weak, meaning vulnerable emotionally and physically.   Angelus has somehow gained a foothold in the realm of her unconscious.  It is there that he reigns free to
wreak general havoc in her dreamworld.  That would be the most opportune time and place; while she's asleep.  The only way the hold that Angelus has, can be restrained is if the spellcaster and its subject are in close spatial proximity to one another.  There doesn't seem to be anyway to break the spell, so we're all at a loss here. The only thing we can do is to maintain, for lack of a better analogy,  a sort of supernatural Band-Aid until we find a way out of this predicament."

Angel was floored.  He sat down to process all of this information, but was having a hard time doing it resting on his laurels.  He stood up in a swift motion, wanting to take decisive action to help out the redhead.   "So, Giles, she's going to have to come out to LA. and stay here.  There's plenty of room and more than enough to keep her occupied during daylight hours.  Isn't her semester over soon?  It would probably do her more good to come here instead of my coming there."

"Yes, yes", Giles said with traces of relief in his voice.  "It would be best all around if Willow came and stayed with you.  You've a business to run on top of everything else."

Angel  sat down again. <I know exactly what that `everything else' entails.  Buffy.  But she's happy seeing Riley and it wouldn't do to involve her in all of this> Angel continued "Yeah, Giles, I understand.  What are you going to tell Buffy?"

Giles sighed heavily pursing his lips.  "I'd guess I'll be telling her the truth.  But it will wait until after we've gotten Willow to you.  But Willow's been very unlike herself lately.  You need to come up with an alternative reason for her coming to LA  She'd rather sacrifice herself rather than be a burden to anyone."

Angel smiled gently, recalling Willow's penchant for self-effacement.  Gentle, unassuming Willow.  Always ready to lay down her life for her friends, but unwilling and unable to accept the same in return.  "Giles, I'll give her a call right now and ask her to town to help research a new bad guy or organize the office files.  It'll be alright.  She can be here in a few hours if necessary."

Giles nodded in agreement into the phone, then remembered something. "She has her final exam of the semester tomorrow.  Let her take care of that and give her sometime to pack.  We'll have her on the road no later than mid-afternoon".

"That sounds fine.  I'll go ahead and call her.   Spike's with her now, watching over her, so she'll still be up," Angel said.

"Very well, then.  Good luck, Angel.  Take care of her.  She doesn't deserve this.  Not after all she's been through lately. " Giles said.

"I will protect her with my own life if need be, Giles," Angel vowed.  "I'll let you know how she's faring.  If we come up with anything to break this spell, I'll let you know. "  Angel gently hung up his phone.  Turning to his two employees, Angel took an unneeded deep breath to attempt to explain what was happening with Willow.
 

Part Four

After her long soak in the tub, Willow wrapped herself into a bulky terry robe and drifted downstairs towards the kitchen and the smell of spiced herbal tea.  Spread onto a wooden island placed in the middle of the kitchen, Spike had laid out a snack feast:  cheeses, fruit, deli meats, crackers and, of course the promised tea.  Willow took a seat opposite Spike, picked up a strawberry and smiled her thanks.  "You didn't have to do all this, Spike, but I certainly
appreciate it, " Willow finished by popping the ripe fruit into her mouth.  "Mmm, and Red Zinger tea", Willow said making alternately slurping and other appreciative sounds with her delicate mouth.

"Nonsense, Red.  You aren't really looking very healthy these days. You need to eat,"  he said as he studied her face.  "You also look as though you could do with a nice rest.  When's the school term let out for holiday?"  the vampire inquired.

Willow hurriedly  chewed, "For me?  I'm done after my Bio final at around 10 in the morning.  Which  reminds me, I should try to work in a few more hours studying since I'll be taking that exam in about four hours," she said sliding off the barstool, intending to head back to her room to fetch her book and notes.

Spike's pale masculine hand snaked across the snacks to encircle one of Willow's wrists.  "Oh, no you don't Red," Spike's dark blue eyes bored into her emerald ones.  "You're not dismissing me that easily. You forgot our bargain.  And, as I recall, we're supposed to be friends here.  What's going on with you, lately?"

" I see that I can't avoid this inquisition for much longer, so I'll make it short and to the point", Willow sighed.  Willow, unconsciously avoiding Spike's penetrating ice blue stare, blushed profusely, then mumbled, "I'vebeenhavingsexdreamsofAngelus".

Spike's right brow hitched itself up an inch and reached automatically for a cigarette then proceeded to light the wrong end. Acknowledging his blunder with a curse, he flung that one into the nearby sink and reached for a fresh one, succeeding at his goal this time.  "Geez, Red.  Are you alright?  When did all this start?", he queried.

"I don't know several weeks ago.  Since then, I haven't been sleeping really well and it's been awfully hard to concentrate during the daylight hours," Willow said miserably.  "Oh, and coincidentally, don't breathe a word of this to any of the Scoobies, especially Buffy.  I don't want to worry them and open old wounds.  We've all suffered enough without throwing my unconsciously raging libido into the mix.  Promise me", the redhead leaned, looking intently into his
face.

"You have my word on it, Red", Spike vowed.  Willow took him at his word then began enlightening Spike about her nocturnal adventures. "Well, the dreams I've been having only involve Angelus and myself. I'm usually tied up on a bed in a room draped in silk.  He talks to me.  He's trying to get something from me.  Maybe he wants my submission, for lack of a better word.  Something always stops me from giving him whatever it is that he wants.  At first, Angelus would just tease me and coax me.  Now, I think he's becoming more frustrated.  It could be why he's begun leaving bite marks on me.  He tells me that I belong to him.  But if that were true, Spike, he'd have what he seeks." Willow ducked her head trying to avoid the vampire's piercing gaze.  She fiddled with the buttons on her pink and yellow pajama top. Willow sighed, her voice dropping to a tear-filled whisper.   To tell you the truth, I think he's trying to seduce me.  It wouldn't be half as bad if it were Angel doing the deed.  I've always been attracted to him, but he's Buffy's and I would never endanger any of our friendships by acting on the instructions of my hormones."  The anguish in Willow's voice manifested itself into tears, which slid down the porcelain of her face.

Spike's blue eyes widened, as he digested the information he had just been made privy to.  "Gee, Willow.  I'm really sorry".  He reached out to her and took her hand in both of his; a gesture of comfort.  His other hand moved to cradle her cheek, caressing away her shed grief.  "We WILL do something to stop this.  Soon you'll be back to rights, having dreams about amusement parks and all day suckers.  You can believe me."  He got up from his stool, enfolding
her slight frame within the cool cocoon of his embrace.

"Thank you, Spike," she mumbled into his tear-stained black T-shirt. Willow's watery emerald gaze looked up to meet his.  "But I'll probably be alright soon.  There's no need to sound the alarm and get everybody all wiggy because I'm having some seriously hormonal dreams about a cold-blooded killer".

"That's a boatload of nonsense, Red," Spike said with some heat. "You're always here for your friends, the Scooby gang, restoring Angel to his old broody self, not to mention helping me out a time or two. You deserve all the help you can get."

Willow smiled slightly, disengaging herself from Spike to reach for a tissue to blow her nose with.  "Yeah, I guess you're right.  But look at you.  Riding to my rescue and all.  If memory serves, you've also stepped up to the plate on the side of goodness a time or two. You're a good guy.  I don't understand why Buffy hasn't-"  Willow gasped, and faked a sneeze, realizing that she may have traipsed on a delicate topic.

Spike's eyes registered shock, and he reached out an arm to grab one of hers.  "She doesn't know, does she?  No one can know!  Least of all Buffy.  I thought I was doing well, hiding my feelings and all." Willow giggled murmuring, "And I thought I was the one who had a penchant for babbling"  Willow looked up at him with honest eyes, answering, "No, Spike, she doesn't know.  Then again, what with the way you look at her and all, it should be pretty plain to her.  And the way you too are always at each other's throats.  It would be plain to anyone who looked closely enough that you two give off major sparkage," she said.

Spike hung his head like a mournful puppy dog.  "Yeah, well maybe you see it, but Buffy sure doesn't".

Now it was Willow's turn to offer comfort, insight and hope. Something she was good at. "No, Spike.  Don't think that way. Buffy's always going on about you."

Spike looked up at her beneath his dark lashes.  "Yeah?", he asked hopefully.

"Yes, she does.  She's always saying Spike this and Spike that. She's confused and frustrated about you and she doesn't quite know how to feel where you're concerned.  Every time you do something to help or comfort her, she gets all bristly and talks herself into a headache.  In my opinion, I don't think that she's as immune to your charms as she thinks.  Sooner or later, she'll realize what it is that she's been overlooking," Willow said.

"Perhaps, you're right, Red.  Thanks for listening to me go on about the Slayer," he said in grateful tones.

"No problem.  You see?  I do my best work when I'm helping others.  I should write a book,"  she said heading towards the living room with Spike in tow.  "Speaking of books, I should be hitting them," she griped, yawning and stretching.  The redhead gestured around the room. "Make yourself at home.  Feel free to watch t.v. and whatever. Smoking doesn't bother me, there are ashtrays in the kitchen cupboard.  Oh.  There's also some bags of your type of nutrition in my refrigerator in my room.  My parents never go in there; they think there's some sort of  light-sensitive science project growing inside.  I keep some blood there, just in case."

Spike stood there mollified for a moment.  Then, he grinned wryly. "Thanks, Red.  But remember, straight after your final, you and I are getting together to muddle through this latest hellmouthy manifestation.  Agreed?"

"Fine, Spike.  Whatever you say," she grinned encouragingly, already moving towards her books.
 

Part Five

Sunrise

Spike got up from the recliner to move to close the curtains and shut off the ringers on the telephones throughout the house.  As he completed his task in the living room, he couldn't help but notice the innocently sleeping redhead's position.  Willow was sprawled out on her stomach, amidst a scattering of books,
notes and diagrams; her head pillowed by her delicately fisted hand.  The expression arranged on her face was one of unconcern, polished by a quirky upturn of her lips.  She slept the sleep of abandon.

As Spike was just settling back into his chair to finish out his movie, his vampiric hearing told him that he'd managed to miss one phone somewhere in the house.  Cursing underneath his breath, he hauled himself out of the lay-z-boy and  trotted to an extension in the kitchen.

"'Ello," he greeted in low tones.

"Spike?  It's Angel.  How's Willow?", Angel inquired on the other end.

"Red's fine.  She's asleep.  The way I figure it, with all the hullabaloo from her not sleeping well, the nightmares, and exams, she's pretty knoshed," Spike answered.

"Well, hopefully Giles and I have come up with a temporary solution for her problem.  Giles tells me that with the spell Willow performed, the original person it was meant for needs to be in close proximity to her when it goes awry." Angel sighed.

"Drop me a clue here anytime, mate. Who was the intended person for the spell?" Spike asked in curiosity.

"Me, Spike.  The spell was intended for me.", Angel admitted. "She was trying to permanently anchor my soul.  And I can't figure why she would attempt to do something so dangerous."

<Jeez, the great Poof's as clueless as my Slayer is>, the blond vampire thought, grinning to himself.  Then and there, he made the decision to keep Angel fumbling around in the dark.  "I don't know, Poof.  You know that Red's always been the goody-goody of the bunch.  Perhaps, she did it so that you and the Slayer could get back together," Spike said, regretting the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.  <Like I need to give him any ideas!>

"No,"  Angel disagreed with some force.  "What Buffy and I had is over.  Willow should know that."

"Well, did you ever tell her?"  Spike inquired.

"No, probably not,"  Angel answered ruefully.  He deftly switched subjects.  "Listen.  Giles also said, you're going to have to bring Willow to LA"

"What for?" Spike asked.

Angel sighed, closing his eyes.  "She needs to be near the subject of the spell in order for us to be able to help control her dreams," the dark vampire muttered.

"Are you kidding me, Willow can't go out there," Spike said, worry lines crossing his forehead.  "She's got responsibilities here. Her friends are here, her family, not to mention all of her familiar surroundings."

"Listen, Spike," Angel said with some heat.  "I don't know what else to do to help her.  It's damn near impossible for me to come there, what with my demon's history in Sunnydale.  I have a business to run; people to take care of.  Willow's term is over as of today.  If Angelus is marking her like you say, then she's in
danger and she needs to be here.  Bring her tonight."

Spike, being mindful of Willow's feelings, attempted to champion her yet again.  "Look, mate-," but his intended diatribe was cut off by the sounds of moans coming from the living room. Both of the vampires could hear the noises clearly. He craned his neck around the corner.  Willow, sprawled languidly spread-eagled on her back, writhed sensually around amidst her books like a naughty schoolgirl.  Although her eyes, were still closed, her full lips were parted in a smile of welcome.  Willow's demure pajama top was parted just enough to reveal the creamy tops of her cleavage.

<Never thought fleece could be such an enticing material.  Look out Britney Spears!> Spike resolutely turned away from the sensual scene, mentally chastising himself for enjoying the show.  Willow's moaning became more strident.  Spike sighed into the phone.  "Angel, it's happening again.  She doesn't seem in any danger at the moment, but I've got to wake her before Angelus gets around to taking another nibble on Red."

Angel, who had been intently listening to Willow, brought himself back to the matter at hand.  He tried to focus on the sound of Spike's voice;  although the telltale bulge straining against his black leather mocked his efforts.  Angel's voice was strained, almost pleading when he spoke, "You've got to bring her to me, Spike.  She'll be safe here."

Willow's moans became cries of pleading now.  She sounded desperate.  Spike couldn't figure whether she wanted a release >from her imprisonment or release from her sexual tension. Angel, slightly embarrassed to be privy to such an auditory erotic display, was forced to free his erection and sit in his office chair.

Spike, beginning to be swayed by his sire's argument and his growing discomfort listening to the pleas of his friend. "Perhaps you're right.  I'll talk to the little witch after her exam this morning. We'll make our excuses and pack a bag.  I'll see you later-", Spike dropped the phone on a nearby counter, rushing to
Willow's aid as the redhead's nocturnal cries reached an apex.

Angel, upon hearing the phone drop, grunted, "Spike?"

Spike gently tried to shake the redhead out of her reverie.

Willow sang out Angel's name.

Angel came in his pants, whispering her name like a prayer.
 

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