Willow awoke in that same room where Angelus had subjected her to sensual tortures, just as she had on previous nights.  This time, it was different.  She was still clothed in the garments she'd gone to bed in!  <Makin' progress> she thought.  She was seated at a table set for two near the foot of that massive bed, where she'd been tied.  The table held an array of ambrosia.  Willow, smiling, reached for a grape.  Her tiny hand was stilled by a strong masculine one, which came from behind her.  Startled, not only by the hand, but also by the unexpected heat from its contact with her own, she gasped.

Willow steadfastly refused to turn around and acknowledge his presence.  So, he spoke for her.  "Hungry?" he inquired in a dark tone.  Willow shut her eyes, groaning with equal parts dismay and desire.  He dropped her hand into her lap, and strolled slowly around the table towards the other place setting.  She opened her eyes in time to catch a glimpse of his tight ass encased in that all too defining black leather.   She groaned again, which was almost her undoing.  Angelus turned to face her, wearing a black silken poet's shirt, unbuttoned to his waist.  Sensing her arousal at his attire, he secretive smile stole across his face.  Stepping back from the table,  Angelus held his arms akimbo, the shirt pulling back to give Willow an enticing peek-a-boo show of his rippled pecs and washboard stomach.  He turned a full circle and in teasing voice, asked, "You like?"  Although Willow avoided a verbal response, her eyes betrayed her appreciation.  Angelus laughed softly, moving his chair closer to hers.  He sank gracefully into his chair, their knees almost touching.

Reaching for a chilled bottle of wine, he poured her a glass. Fascinated by his movements, Willow watched as he took the grape she had intended to eat and popped in into his mouth.  Sensually smirking, he rolled the fruit along his tongue.  His brown orbs danced as he removed the intact grape from his mouth.  His reached out with the intent of placing it between her lips.  Willow sat woodenly, refusing him access to her mouth.  Their eyes clashed briefly in a battle of wills.  Willow finally gave in, deciding that it would be much better to feed from his hand than being tied to his bed.  She slowly chewed and swallowed the proffered bit, savoring the sweet taste of the fruit and  the underlying flavor of man.  Angelus repeated the process, this time only teasingly flicking his tongue out at each piece.

When it seemed as though he was distracted, looking for another suitable treat to feed her, Willow worked up enough courage to ask, "Why are you here?  How did you get here?  What are you doing to me?"

Angelus' eyes glowed as they filled with mirth.  "Oh my little Willow.  So many questions.  You must be parched from all that talking.  Drink?" he asked, motioning toward  the wine.  She nodded slightly, hand going again to the table.  Angelus again halted her progress, entwining his fingers  with hers, laying them gently in her lap.  With his other hand, he picked up a goblet and filled his mouth with Chardonnay, then set the wine down.

As he leaned towards Willow, his now serious eyes captured hers, moving inches away from her face.  Willow, sensing his intent, tried to pull away from him, but Angelus was having none of that. His free hand shot toward her face, gently cupping the back of her head, moving her inexorably to his mouth.  Willow's other hand came up to lie against the skin of his broad chest.  Her eyes fluttered closed and his cool lips touched hers.  She gasped with the shock of their contact.  Angelus took the advantage, his tongue seeking entrance to her moist interiors.  He let the wine flow over his lips and into her open mouth and pulled her closer.  Willow reflexively swallowed the wine mingled with his taste.  <Good gracious!  Angelus is kissing me!> she thought, as her hand stole around his neck to slide through his spiky locks.  She lost herself in his kiss, giving into his assault on her mouth.

Vaguely, she became aware that her skin was rapidly becoming overheated.  Angelus, sensing her discomfort, stealthily began unbuttoning the front of her top.  With that accomplished, his hand moved inside the garment, dancing a caress from her neck to the pale globe of a breast.  <She feels like silk.  She will give in to me!> the demon thought triumphantly.  His hand continued the exploration of her breast, soon coming into contact with a rose-tinted nipple. The sensitized flesh hardened at his touch and Willow mewled softly into his mouth in response.  Angelus, pleased at her response, grinned slightly.  Willow moved closer to him of her own accord, trying to increase the delicious contact.  Anticipating her need, Angelus lifted and shifted her slight weight, until she straddled his taut thighs.  With the movement, the scent of her arousal permeated the air like a warm, humid cloud.  His head dipped to the side of her neck, kissing a blistering path to her pebbled nipple.  Angelus' hand trailed to the snaps of her shorts, seeking out the heat that he'd provoked.  His tongue flicked across her nipple, Willow arched into his mouth his response, both of her small hands fisting in his hair. He licked a wet trail from one nipple to its twin, while his hand parted the dampened petals of her femininity.  He stroked the highly sensitive nubbin of flesh and was rewarded with her moans of pleasure.  Willow began to move above his hand, rocking her hips in time to her own tune.  His deft fingers eagerly followed her pace, his mouth worrying her nipples.

Willow's eyes suddenly opened.  <Jeez, what am I doing> she thought. <I'm letting Angelus diddle me as if I were a French courtesan, is what I'm doing> She mused with some bitterness.  Accompanied by that thought, Willow's hips ceased action.  "I cant do this with you," she murmured woefully.  "It isn't right", she said and disentangled herself from his ministrations.  Willow stood on shaky legs while readjusting her clothing.

Angelus watched her, barely concealed frustration written on across his visage.  "This IS right.  You want this; I want this.  It's only a dream, my sweet.  Give in to this.  You need this release as much as I want to give it to you,"  He sprang from the chair and made a move to capture her face in his hands.  Willow danced away from his touch, yelling, "No!  Something's off, here.  It's just not right." Her eyes darted about the room.  Spying a door in the distance, she ran at breakneck speed towards freedom.

Angelus met her at the door, planting hands on the wooden surface at either side of her head.  Her back to him, Willow clawed at the doorknob, futilely attempting to pry it open.  He bent toward her head, silkily whispering, "It won't work, Willow.  The door's locked.  It only opens for me."  She mentally sent up a prayer to the Goddess for strength.  Willow's shoulders slumped in defeat, <Apparently, She's not taking calls tonight> she mused ruefully.  He firmly turned her about to face him.  "You can't get away from me. Why fight the inevitable?"  He kissed her again, his hands spanning her slim waist.  Willow, as if she had no will of her own, fell into his dark embrace with a resigned moan.

Lifting her by the waist, Angelus turned them round and strode toward the bed.  Willow unconsciously wrapped her long, slender legs about his hips, clinging to him.  As he came to the bed's edge, he lowered them to the black silken sheets.  Willow struggled into a sitting position.  Angelus shook his head and placed a palm in the middle of her chest, easing her back down to lie upon the bed.  She made a half- hearted attempt to fight him, thinking frantically, <No, not the bed again!  I'm seriously losing ground here.>  She flailed her arms in every direction, trying to push him away.  Angelus countered, his hands imprisoning first one, then the other of her delicate wrists, placing them above her head.  The lower half of his body lay atop hers, effectively cutting off any escape.  He lowered his face towards hers entreating, "Lie still,"  Willow, caught beneath the piercing scrutiny of his gaze, complied.

Angelus lowered his mouth to hers, placing a gentle kiss upon the petals of her lips and trailed a series of kisses from her throat to her top.  Impatient now, he ripped open the flimsy cotton, shooting buttons in every direction.  He proceeded to do the same to her shorts, which gave way at the seams.  Finally naked and bared to his hot gaze, Angelus felt himself grow rock-hard.  <She's so beautiful> he thought.  To his pleasure and amusement, he watched, fascinated, as a slow flush spread from Willow's breasts to her face.

Willow, even with her eyes closed, knew he was looking at her.  She couldn't bring herself to open them, so she blushed in embarrassment.  Angelus caressed her face, the slim column of her neck, then ended, slowly molding the curves of her breasts.  He bathed each nipple with his tongue, smiling slightly when Willow gasped in reaction.  Angelus then attended to both nipples, taking one with his mouth, the other he flicked lightly with his thumb. Willow's breathing grew more shallow as she lost herself in the feeling of his attentions.  Her hands, trapped above her head, began
opening and closing in response to the feel of him draped across her exposed flesh.

Angelus moved his mouth to her other nipple, his free hand tracing a damp caress down the taught lines of her stomach, through the feminine nest of red curls to her heated moist center.  He placed a finger at the entrance to her opening, teasingly circling it then pushed inside.  Willow moaned as his tongue and his fingers worked in tandem: suckling…pushing.  Her hips began to circle of their own accord, automatically responding to his touch.

Her slick moistened folds grasped at his finger as he moved deeper inside.  Willow's head rolled, as she gave herself up to his touch. Angelus, unable to resist the enticing heart of her, slowly released her captive hands and licked a cool trail down her body to her heat. Her curls thoroughly dampened and he reveled in the fact that he could evoke such a response in her.  He pried apart her legs, placing a kiss high on her inner thigh.  Willow moaned something low and unintelligible in her throat.  Angelus smiled against her skin and began to suck on her heated skin.  He slowly, patiently drew the blood to it surface.  Pulling his finger out of her hot core, he lightly stroked the nubbin of flesh.  He heard her cry out softly as
she adjusted her hips and opened her legs even more.  He experienced a moment of overwhelming bloodlust intermingled with passion.  Unable to contain himself, his fangs elongated, piercing her skin and he began to drink from her.  Willow gasped, basking in the pleasure-pain peak that Angelus brought her to.  Unwilling to make a meal of his intended mate, he pulled out of her thigh, kissing then licking a path up to her heated core.  He began licking up her dewy wetness, down and around her folds.  Finally, he began to sample that other sweet nectar she produced, flicking his tongue in and out of her. His fingers danced up her skin to teasingly tweak her nipples, moving his mouth to suck gently on her clit.  Willow, on sensory overload, let out a short, shrill scream…
 

Part Twelve

Angel rounded the last turn into the driveway, feeling triumphant. His informant turned out to be very cooperative, supplying him the tools he needed to defeat the latest demon from Hell.  < This should be a relatively easy takedown.  Perhaps safe enough to let the girls come along.  >  Parking Spike's borrowed car, he climbed out of it and headed for the front doors.  As his key hit the lock, he heard Willow's scream.  He hurried the door and bounded up the steps…

Spike sat fascinated, watching "The Dave Letterman Show".  Kevin Spacey was busy doing a De Niro impersonation.  Spacey was one of the very few Hollywood actors whose talent Spike had come to grudgingly admire.  Unconsciously running his tongue from one canine to its twin, he mused, <Too bad I don't have my bite.  Now, *he's* one worthy of immortality.  >

In the midst of Spacey's plugging his latest movie, a scream rent the air.  <Not again! >, he thought, springing out of his chair to run to Willow's rescue.  <If that damned sire of mine were truly back; I'd give him the beating of his undead life!  >  He very nearly flew through his doorway, only to collide with said sire, the ensouled one.

"Oomf!" he grunted, as unyielding walls of solid muscle slammed into one another.  At his sire's growl, Spike hastily backed off.  He conceded saying, "Right on time, mate".

As Angel made move to enter Willow's room, Spike grabbed his arm. "Maybe we should both go in," he suggested.  "You for that `spatial proximity' Herr Watcher spoke of; me for the comfort factor."

Angel's brown eyes narrowed suspiciously.  "If there's any comforting to be given her, I will take care of it", he said.

Spike rolled his eyes.  "I'm not trying to piss in your territory, man.  I'm just saying that when Red wakes up, she's likely to scream bloody murder if your face is the first she sees.  She's been traumatized enough.  Give her a chance to get used to you before you decide to get all groiny with the gel."

Angel relented.  "Okay, fine.  But as soon as Willow *is* used to me, you back off", he ordered.

Spike held his hands out in surrender, then said, "Let's go".

As they walked into Willow's room, the vampires were hit with a sensory feast.  The girl's bedspread was strewn carelessly on the floor at the foot of the bed.  The enticing smell of Willow's bath products and her arousal, competed with the heady smell of her spilled blood which wafted through the air.  Underneath it all, the room held a hint of the last remnants of a lusty Angelus.  The males could almost taste the fear, coupled with desire in the backs of their throats.  The sounds of Willow's pleading whimpers were a bittersweet music.  The lush sight of the same woman-child lying
languidly across her bed, pajamas ripped to shreds in the heat of passion, was punctuated by the rapid rise and fall of her chest, crested by rose-tipped nipples pebbled in desire.  Long legs were carelessly laid open, arms directly above her head, twisted into the sheets, telling of the of the agony of pleasure in the final moments before the blissful oblivion that release provided.

"Jesus", was the only thing Spike could think to say, as he hurried to her side.  Spike brought her arms down to her sides, then gently stroked her sweat-dampened forehead.

Angel, upon reaching the bed, stood locked in stasis.  In the back of his head, he knew he should be doing something to help wake Willow, but the sight of the naked beauty laid before him arrested his action.

Spike, trying to comfort an unconscious Willow, swung his head around, rolling his eyes at his sire's dumbfounded state.  "Angel! Fetch the blanket," he all but hissed, flicking on a bedside lamp. Angel shocked from his reverie quickly snatched up the bedclothes from the floor reluctantly covering Willow from neck to feet. Willow, still murmuring piteously, poised on the precipice of release, was rudely shaken out of her fevered dream.  Spike eased the girl up into his gentle embrace, whispering nonsensical words of comfort.

Willow, realizing that Spike had once again freed her from the dark torture that was Angelus, sobbed in relief.  She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into the crook of his neck.  Tears of anguish flowed down into his open collared shirt.  Spike looked up at Angel, mouthing "Water," and the elder vampire rushed into the adjoining room, grateful to be of some assistance.

Arriving back ather side, he whispered, "Willow", and she visibly tensed in Spike's arms.  Spike shushed her reassuringly saying, "It's only the Poof, Red.  You're okay."  Willow looked up at Spike for confirmation and he nodded his head.  <Okay, that's good.  It's just Angel, not his leather-clad counterpart.  Then again, he does wonders for leather…Bad Willow!  He could have had you for a meal and her you are, laying here lusting after a killer?  Get a grip! >  She murmured, "Hey, Angel", closing her eyes in relief.  Then, they shot open again.  <Angel!  Oh, Goddess!  How long has he been here?>   She reluctantly turned to acknowledge the dark-haired vampire's presence.  Willow studiously avoided his eyes, directing her gaze
somewhere near the vicinity of his crotch.  <He's, um…hard!  Eep! Naughty Willow!>, she thought as a flare of desire bloomed.  A blush accompanied her thoughts, spreading up her neck, tinting her face a bright pink.  The combination of the look, the blush and the palatable scent of pure Willow, made Angel harden even more.  He grunted a non-committal greeting and sunk to his knees before her, holding out the glass. "Thanks," she said, reaching for the water and taking a grateful sip.

"How are you feeling, love?"  Spike inquired in concerned tones.

For Angel's benefit, Willow decided to try to shrug off the seriousness of her situation.  "I'm fine," she said.  "Just another of those run of the mill nightmares we talked about," giving Spike the hint-hint stare, wanting him to follow her lead.

He leaned towards her, whispering for her benefit, but knowing full well Angel could hear him.  "Gotcha".  Then, on a more conversant level, "Looks as though you could use another bath.  I'll go run you some water."  He hefted the small burden that was Willow into his arms and did the unexpected.  Gingerly, he placed his blanketed friend into Angel's lap.  "Angel, will you keep her company for a spell?"  Looking down at Willow, whose eyes were narrowed in disagreement and suspicion, Angel replied, "Sure".  His arms closed around her in gestures, which were equal parts protective and possessive.

As Spike disappeared into the bathroom, Willow attempted to wiggle free from Angel's lap.  <If she keeps moving around like that, I swear by all that's holy, I'll take her here!> Angel's grip on his precious bundle tightened, restricting the redhead's movements. Looking down into her heart-shaped face, he arched a dark brow. "Going somewhere, little one?"

Willow, realizing that Angel could probably bench press a Toyota without breaking a sweat, immediately stilled.  <Well, I'm guessing that resistance his futile, here.>  Her face was screwed up in her own thoughts when she dimly heard Angel ask, "You want to talk about it?"

Still lost in thought, Willow mused, "Mmm…no.  I was just thinking that you and Locutus of the Borg share some common characteristic traits in that you're both stubborn and strong and unbending when it comes to getting what you want.  Even if it's not the best for all concerned, and I'm babbling now, so I'll be shutting up."

Chuckling lightly, he said, "No.  Don't ever stop that.  I like it when you babble."  His expression became more serious at that point. "That's when you're the most honest, not only with yourself, but with those around you."

Changing subjects, he asked, "Locutus of Borg, huh?  If I'm up to date on my pop-culture, you're speaking of the `Star Trek, the Next Generation', right?"

Willow smiled faintly, glancing up at his face, suppressing the urge reach up and touch it.  As she processed his question, her eyes widened in mock surprise.  "Yes.  So you came out the Dark Ages and joined this century, *when*", she asked wryly.

At that point, he got into her face, defending himself, "Hey, I watch my fair share of t.v.  Besides," he said drawing back, "That's not what I was asking you about. I wanted to know if you cared to tell be about your nightmare".

Willow sucked at her teeth, digesting his question.  As an uncomfortable heat crept up her face, she looked around the room, hoping to find an escape hatch.  <No such luck tonight, Rosenburg!> She settled for a pat reply, all the while avoiding Angel's stare. "I'm fine, just the stress of the last semester catching up with me. Spike's been really good to me and I think being away from Sunnydale will help."  Her small fingers began worrying the edge of the blanket.

Angel impulsively covered her hands gently.  Willow breathed in with the contact, and glanced up into his eyes.  Looking solemnly into her eyes, he whispered, "I could be good for you too, Willow".  Then he silent berated himself, <Oh great, Angel.  Let the cat out of the bag too soon and she'll always run.>

However, all he received was a confused twist of her mouth.  "Oh. You're a great friend, Angel, but I don't want to burden you with my petty problems.  I'll be back to normal in no time," she said in what she hoped was a reassuring voice.

He shook his head.  "If I'm such a good friend, then why haven't I heard from you about what's going on in your life?  You never even told me about you and Oz, not to mention Tara.  How come?"

Willow, thinking to spare his feeling and not have him revisit the loss of Buffy, chose not to bring up her past broken relationships. Intending to explain this, she began, "No, Angel.  It's not what you think.  I didn't want to-"

His hands gently squeezed hers as he interrupted.  "Burden me with the mundane details of your life?  How can you even think that?  The girl who fights hip-to-shoulder with the Slayer?  The funny, brave, smart and beautiful girl who so unselfishly restored my soul, ignoring the danger she puts herself in?  Are we talking about that same person who sat at what was very nearly my deathbed, nursing me, believing that everything would turn out alright?  Face it.  You're the glue that binds us all together.  Therefore, whenever you have a problem, we *all* do.  Moreover, there is *nothing* about you that is mundane or boring.  Do I make myself clear?" he demanded.

"Way to go, Dad!"  Spike said, from inside the closed bathroom, unbeknownst to Willow.  Angel heard him however, and looked up at the closed door, sighing ruefully.

Willow, touched by his words, looked up at him and smiled.  "Clear," she answered, then followed his gaze to the closed door.  "What is it?" she asked.

"Your bath is ready.  Come on."  She scrambled out of his lap, and walked to the bathroom, letting the blankets fall halfway down her body, when an odd chill gave her pause.  Angel was rewarded with a glimpse of fetching twin dimples at the top of her ass before Willow realized she was naked underneath.  <Ohmigod!  I just flashed Angel! >  Gulping, she did not bother to acknowledge his presence other than to mumble a hasty, "I'm sorry", quickly pulling the blanket back over her more salient parts.  Flat out running into the bathroom, she did not hear him reply, "I'm not," as he got up to follow her.

Spike dodged out of her way to avoid certain collision, then allowed himself to be hustled unceremoniously out of the bathroom.  "We'll be outside if you need anything, Red," he said, closing the door behind him.
 
 

Part thirteen

Willow could faintly make out muffled voices on the other side of the door as she discarded her covering and stepped down into her second bath of the evening.  <Way to make use of the tub, Willow.  And just what was up with the striptease back there?>   These and other curious thoughts swirled about her head as the steam managed to help her get her nerves in order.   Instead of another hour-long soak, she decided to just wash up quickly.   Stepping out, she wrapped herself in a large towel and drained the water.

She brushed her teeth, then flossed.  Willow was taken aback when she noticed that she'd managed to pry out a strawberry seed.  <When the hell was I eating strawberries?>  In no mental state to run down the list of what she'd eaten that day, she let go of the though and cracked open the door which lead to her room.  Calling out to the men she asked, "Hey guys.  Would one of you mind handing me some fresh pj's from my suitcase?", holding out her hand through the crack in the door.

Angel jumped from his seating position in one of the loungers to do just that as Spike was still processing her question.  A few moments later, he handed her another cottony sky-blue two-piece number. "Here you go," he said.

"Thanks.  Be out in a minute."  She closed the door, got dressed quickly and hung the towel on a nearby drying rack.

Yawning, she strode into the room, depositing herself into the window seat.  She also noted that Angel had managed to change into some black silk loungewear.  <Ignore it, Willow!> "So, what have you guys been in here talking about?"

Spike, having restored the dying embers in the fireplace to a cheery glow, replaced the poker and took a seat, answering, "Actually, we were just fighting about who gets to sit up with you while you're sleeping tonight, Pet."

"Oh.  That".  Realizing that the two would not be put off from their self-appointed task, she surrendered.  "Well, who won?"

Angel answered, "We'll both keep watch over you tonight and take turns thereafter".

Willow immediately protested.  "Spike.  Don't you have to go back to Sunnydale?  I mean, you've got that *stuff* to take care of, right?"

Spike smiled at her thoughtfulness, but negated it.  "Don't worry about that.  It can wait," he said waving her off.  <Like I'm going to miss out on the drama of the summer.  Is she kidding?  I want a front-row seat!>

Deciding that she exerted absolutely no control where the two master vampires were concerned, she opted for bed.  "Well, you two, I'm turning in.  Thanks for sitting up with me.  And don't worry about talking.  It won't keep me awake.  Stifling another yawn, she got up and walked behind Spike's chair, hugging him from behind.  "G'night," she said, releasing him after they'd exchanged squeezes.

Angel abruptly stood.  "Don't I get one, too?" he asked quietly. <Might as well.  She's gonna have to start getting used to having my touch her…and sooner rather than later.  And way much more than a hug.  Oh, yes.  We'll be doing much more than hugging, my sweet.>

Willow paused, then thought the better of it.  "Of course, Angel". She walked into the circle of his arms, oddly drawing solace from his embrace <This is nice>.  As her arms stole up and around his neck, pillowing her head on his silk-clad chest, an unexpected jolt of awareness shot throughout her body.  Her heart faltered then began a trip-hammer beat within her chest.  Things in her stomach began to goo as she thought.  < Umm…this is not so nice.  Get to bed, Willow, before you do something stupid.>  She moved to release him as her thoughts raced rapidly around in her head, heat crept from her chest up her face.  Shaking her head, she turned on her heel and marched to the newly made bed.

Spike looked on, a slight smirk decorating his handsome visage as he discreetly sniffed the air.  <At this rate, Angel will have her before next week's out.>

Willow sank into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.  Turning to her side, she snuggled deeper into the plushness of the bed. Angel and Spike's low voices helped to lull her into an almost immediate dreamless sleep.

The vampires, upon sensing the subtle changes in Willow's breathing, visibly relaxed.  "It's about time she got some restful sleep," Spike said, cocking his head in the direction of his slumbering friend.

Angel looked over at Willow, nodding his head in agreement.  "She looks peaceful.  Giles said that it's only been a few weeks.  I'm wondering if she'll be able to last another few."

"I really don't see too much of a problem as long as you're her shadow throughout her sleeping cycles.  If she is going to be working with you, you're going to have to mimic her sleeping patterns or make sure you are within shouting distance whenever she decided to take a snooze.  Oh, and this isn't the time for you to be Brood-boy extraordinaire.  You're going to have to make an effort to join the living.  Get into her space; but at the same time don't scare her off.  I think if we're both here to keep any eye out for her, there shouldn't be a problem."  Spike said.

Angel looked at his former companion, mild surprise and a slight twinge of jealousy spread across his features.  "Didn't I hear Willow say you had other business to attend to back in Sunnydale?"

"She did, but believe me, it's not as important as seeing her put back to rights."  Strangely, Spike felt more loyalty towards Willow than her hot-pants wearing friend, who seemed to take great pleasure in either ignoring him or attacking his manhood everytime the chance arose.  <Perhaps being away from the Hellmouth is clearing my head.> Spike chose not to reveal his change of heart to his sire, quipping, "Besides, I think I'll stick around here and teach you how to woo a woman," supplying Angel with a toothy grin.

Angel's gaze swung back to his childe, his eyes darkening at the blond's insolence.  Realizing that Spike was half-joking, he lightened up, deciding to do a little teasing of his own.  Angel lowered his head slightly looking up through his sooty-colored lashes replying, "All that you know of seduction, you learned from me, Spike.  Remember that if nothing else.  I don't need a refresher course; it's just lain dormant due to the curse."  Angel's voice
dipped into low registers, offering dark promises.  "However, perhaps you'd like a refresher course?"

The two locked eyes as electric heat crackled in the expanse between.  Spike bit into his lip, narrowed his eyes and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  "You're a right bastard teasing me like that, Angel."  He broke away from his sire's suggestive stare. Getting up, he silently padded barefoot across the room, heading towards the bed.  He looked across at Angel wickedly murmuring, "G'night.  I'm going to bed."  Lifting back the blankets, he crawled into bed, spooning Willow.

Deep down, Angel rationally knew that Spike would never harm Willow, nor usurp Angel's position.  Yet the fact that his childe and soon-to-be mate were snuggled up in bed together still rankled.  Not wanting to wake Willow, yet not willing to concede a petty victory to Spike, Angel stood up and doused the lights, leaving only the fire to light the room.  When he slipped into bed facing Willow, he could not resist running a finger down her soft cheek.  Willow sighed, unconsciously reached out to him, wrapping an arm about his waist, burrowing her face into the crook of Angel's neck.  His eyes flickered from Willow to Spike.  "Mine," he whispered.

Spike held his gaze for suspended moments.  His affirmative smile preceded his answer, "Yours," he said, placing his hand on top of Angel's, where it rested on Willow's hip.  The dark and light vampires drifted off to sleep, huddled about Willow's warmth and life.

An hour before sunrise, Angel's slumber was disturbed by the unfamiliar warmth that rested up against his cool body.  Her back now facing him, Willow had managed to pull his arm under hers, so that his hand now rested in the warm cocoon between her breasts.  Her free hand rested on Spike's left bicep.  The silky strands of her hair tickled Angel's mouth.  In sleep, she wriggled until her backside found a comfortable space up against Angel's hips.  Angel grunted, as his fogged brain became more aware of his body's positioning.

Within a space of seconds, he had managed to go from total sleep to raging awareness.  His now painfully erect member echoed that fact. Seeking to ease his arousal, he tried to gently remove his hand from Willow's body.  However, the sleeping Willow was having none of that.  She groaned, muttering in frustration, and clamped her arm around his, preventing his movement.

<God!  She's not playing fair!  I can't possibly get back to sleep in this condition.>  His trapped hand cupped her cotton-covered breast. Listening to Willow sigh contentedly, only served to arouse him more.  Gently, he nudged his nose between the hair at the back of her neck.  Locating the smooth column, he gently kissed her at its base, continuing to mold the tantalizing globe of her breast.  Willow stirred, her breathing hitched, coming in short pants.  Taking this as a signal to continue, he licked a small trail from the base of her neck to where the hair of her head began.

Willow's backside moved against Angel, grinding against his turgid member which threatened to rip a hole in the silk of his pants. Willow shifted slightly, which gave him access to a budding nipple. His thumb lightly strummed her nipple.  It peaked to a hardened point, the intimate contact dragging a ragged moan from her parted lips.  <Spike was right about her response…Spike!  He's probably awake and enjoying the show.  I can't do this to her with him here and Willow practically unconscious!  Get a hold of yourself!>

Removing his now free hand from her breast was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.  Kissing her neck once more in farewell, he eased himself out of the bed, away from her warmth.  He headed into his suite of rooms next door, and into a long, cold, sobering shower.

Back in Willow's room, Spike smiled to himself as he drifted back to sleep, cradling his friend to him.
 

Part Fourteen

Cordelia showed up bright and early at Willow's door.  <Well, early enough to grab a bite to eat before the shops open; not to mention find out how Willow passed the night. >  Foregoing a tactful knock, Cordy strolled into Willow's suite, unprepared for the sight that nearly scorched her eyeballs.  Willow and Spike were twined together at the legs.  Willow's head was pillowed on one side of Spike's chest, one hand flung carelessly low on his stomach.  One of Spike's arms cradled the redhead close.  Stifling the urge to curse, she poked at Spike with one elegantly manicured fingernail.

As Spike awoke, two things caught his attention.  His limbs entangled with Willow's warm ones and a determined prodding directed near the middle of his chest.  Cordelia stood above him, her sharp eyes crackling with fire and irritation.

"Hey," she whispered fiercely.  "You're *not* the one that's supposed to be in bed with Willow.  Where's Angel?  An-and, get out of that bed!"  She commanded, backing up to give him room to vacate the bed.

Spike refused to give way to the former cheerleader.  He rounded on her, whispering in return, "Hey, yourself.  What happened to all that encouragement I was getting from you last night?  I'm here to protect her from becoming an Angel/Angelus sandwich, if you'd care to recall."

Cordelia resumed glaring stakes at him as the blond rolled his eyes back into his head.  Taking a deep unneeded breath, he was given pause.  Scenting Cordelia's desire riding high on the air was the last thing he'd expected from the haughty brunette.  <Ahh…I see. > Smiling a slow, lazy grin, his blue eyes opened, pinning Cordelia with his gaze.  Running his free hand slowly up the uncovered area of his chest, he drawled, "It's really much too early in the morning for all this. Why don't you take off your clothes and join us, pet?"

Cordelia took a cautious step back, eyeing him as though he was a snake about to strike.  Her pretty mouth worked open and closed like a guppy searching for water.  Attempting to regain the upper hand in her present situation, she addressed him in a no-nonsense tone. "Wake Willow and tell her to meet me downstairs."  Turning on her heel, she stamped out of the room.  Spike looked on, admiring her spunk, not mention her delectable backside as she retreated.

Shaking his head, murmuring something about the duplicity of women, he looked down as he felt his sleeping companion stir.  Willow smiled mischievously up at him, "Caught ya".

Spike eased them both into a sitting position and asked warily, "What did you hear?  And how long have you been awake?"  <I could kick myself for not being more alert. >

Willow's smile broadened even more.  "Oh, only long enough to hear you working that old vampire-mojo on Cordy.  You're one in a select group that's ever been able to rend Her Highness speechless. Congrats."

Spike, visibly relieved, chuckled saying, "Thanks.  By the way, did you sleep well?"

Willow frowned, in an attempt to recall.  "That was the best night's sleep I've had in awhile.  I'm sure I have you and Angel to thank for that."  Looking around, "Speaking of your slacking sire, where'd he go?" she inquired in an almost disappointed voice.

"Hmm.  Probably draining the Colorado River of all the cold water which supplies the region I'd suspect."  He dutifully reported.

Willow drew her eyebrows together in confusion.  "Huh?"

Spike smiled indulgently, "He's in the shower.  Has been for quite sometime now."

"Oh.  I guess I'd better grab one myself before Cordy comes back for Round Two with you.  I hope Angel didn't use up all the hot water." She said as she untangled herself from Spike and climbed out of the bed.

As she walked away, Spike called out, laughing, "Red.  He didn't use the hot water."  Then, focusing on a certain brunette, Spike muttered a thoughtful expression on his face, "She wouldn't dare come back in here.  Seems I'll have to go pick a fight with her myself and see if I can rattle her cage again."
 

***

Spike hurried to join Cordelia downstairs, finding her, as well as Gunn in the kitchen. He moved to take out some blood to heat in a mug in the microwave. When it was heated, he said by way of greeting, "Ahh…nothing like a cup of joe to get the morning started off right." He took a seat at the head of the dining table, which could comfortably accommodate eight.

"Hey." Gunn answered back, wondering idly when he became so used to vampires, who were all supposed to be evil.

"…so, any questions, Gunn?" the brunette asked, leaning against a countertop, as she watched the handsome young man for signs that he might object to the solutions to Willow's dilemma. She completely ignored that fact that Spike had entered the room. Or at least, gave the impression that she did.

"Nah, I'm squared away," he said, shaking his gleaming head, nonplussed about the news. He reached for a newspaper on the large dining room table, and settled himself into a high-backed steel chair to read and take a chance on the coffee.

Cordy's eyes widened then resumed their normal almond shape. "Okay." She then tried to raise any reaction from him. "Are you sure?"

Gunn cut his eyes to her above his paper. "There's only so many ways I can say `yes', Cheer-queen."

Cordelia grew short with him at that point. "Funny, I thought you'd be the one taking it the hardest. I guess I was wrong on that one."

Sighing heavily while directing his onyx-colored eyes heavenward, he realized that she was going need more convincing. "Really, girl, do you actually operate in the same universe as the rest of us? I mean, Angel and Willow are hardly the first people to be doing this. They seem to dig one another. Angel and Willow have some sex, the spell's complete. No more creepy visitations from a seriously PMS-ing Angelus. Angel gets his soul out of layaway. In the meantime, for life or longer, we keep the information on the d-l from Willow."
 

***

Twenty minutes later, a freshly scrubbed Willow bounced lightly downstairs to the lobby to meet Cordelia. Although clothes shopping was not a major event in her repertoire, she decided to grin and bear wherever Cordelia chose to lead her that day. Encountering no one in the main area of the hotel, she began to believe that the Cordelia ship had sailed without her. Upon hearing her raised voice off one of the alcoves, Willow realized that luck was not on her side this morning.

Bending to tie an errant shoelace at the foot of the stairs, she was reminded to at least pick up new laces sometime that day. As she stood to move towards the kitchen area, she promptly collided into a wall of cool, male flesh.

Reaching out hands to steady her, Angel said, "Willow.  You're up early. Don't tell me Cordy's dragging you out at this hour?"

"Angel!" Willow gasped. "I see you're still light on your feet. And yes, the shopping Wonder does expect me to schlepp around the shops at this ungodly hour. Sales wait for no man," she joked good-naturedly.

Angel took one of her smooth hands in his own and placed a platinum credit card in her palm. "Well, take this with you; and spare no expense because Cordelia's liable to wear you out."

She stuffed the card into the back pocket of her jeans "Okay, thanks," she said, giving him a brilliant smile. She vowed that the card would never clear her pocket until she returned it to Angel.

As she started towards the kitchen area again, Angel's voice halted her progress. "Hey, Willow?" he hesitantly asked, placing his hands in his pockets with his gazed directed at the floor.

"Yes, Angel," she answered, turning about with a questioning glance on her face.

"Do you want to maybe get a pizza or watch a movie tonight? Maybe we could get dinner?"

Willow, assuming that Angel wanted to use the time to do some labor-intensive fact-finding about Buffy, tried to head him off. Holding up a hand, she said, "Angel, you don't have to use a meal or a movie into order to bribe me into talking about Buffy. You could just ask."

The dark vampire, chagrined about Willow's thought processes, sought to set her thinking straight. <What is it with this girl? Always throwing Buffy into a situation. I may have a more difficult time getting to her than I thought.> He moved to stand directly in front of Willow, further invading her space to cup her face into his large hands. "You're wrong, Willow. I didn't ask you to spend time with me to probe you about Buffy. I asked you out to probe you about *you*, Willow. You *do* recall our conversation last night?" his voice dipped into a lower register, his face slightly taking on a faintly amused statement.

Willow colored slightly, in remembrance. <Oh, yeah. Me and Angel having a conversation. Me…wrapped naked in a blanket sitting on Angel's lap. Yeah, I remember. Sheesh! I wish he'd let go of my face.  I can't think straight.> "Oh," she finally replied in a small voice. Then, in a burst of Willow rebellion, she squared her shoulders, deciding to get to know the person who had saved her life on countless occasions.

Reading the changes in her expressions and demeanor, Angel let out a mental sigh, relief evident on his face.  He relucantly released his hold on her, dropping his hands.

Willow continued. "Okay, fine. On one condition…well maybe two."

Angel smirked. "Name them."

Willow thought carefully before answering. "One. No unsolicited brooding allowed. Oh, and two, I want to know more about the history you've seen, and none of that cryptic-guy act, either. You've got to be a fount of information, and I'd love to hear what life was like way back when."

Angel hastily agreed. "Done. Is 8 tonight good for you?"

Secretly pleased that there was a time limit on the Cordelia-Willow shopping expedition, she confirmed. "Sounds good. See you tonight." She again turned away, dismissing him temporarily from her thoughts.

Watching as she disappeared from the lobby, her tantalizing scent lingered on. Angel sighed softly, contemplating another shower.
 

Part Fifteen

Upon entering the kitchen, the redhead was greeted by Gunn and Cordy, with choruses of "Morning," and "It's about time." respectively. Spike sat at the far end of the table engrossed in `Variety' magazine.

"Hey, guys," she called. Willow walked over to Spike and kissed the top of his head.

Smirking slightly, the blond poked fun at her affectionate gesture. "Did Peaches get a good-morning kiss, too?  I hope you didn't kiss his hair, or you'd be flossing till Judgment Day to get it out."

Willow, having grown more accostumed to Spike's banter, fired back sweetly.  "Be quiet, whelp.  Or I'll sic your old man on you."  Spike chuckled good-naturedly and went back to his reading.

Moving to open the fridge, Willow was surprised to find it well- stocked. Looking in askance toward the group, Gunn addressed her questioning look.

"Oh, we keep the fridge full, here. Demon hunting has us keeping some pretty funky hours."

Reaching for some juice, Willow nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I hear that. Whenever we had research parties back home, someone was always
sent out for snackables." Switching subjects, she asked, "So, I know what Cordy and I are up to today. What plans do you men-folk have?"

Spike was the first to answer. "Well, I'm going to finish breakfast, read up on the local happenings and maybe lend Peaches a hand searching for this Choam demon that has his knickers in a twist. S'pose I have to earn my keep since I'll be languishing in La-La Land for a spell."

Gunn spoke up. "I'm gonna try and locate these parts for Angel's transmission and install it. Then, I'm pretty much gonna play it by ear. Maybe find a pick-up game down in Crenshaw."

Willow stood at the counter, sipping at her juice. Gunn fired a question at them.

"So, what are y'all going to be doing tonight? Anyone up for taking Willow out to check out some of L.A.'s nightlife? Open invite for anyone who wants to come. That is, assuming you don't get a line on the Choam."

Spike perked up considerably. "You're on, mate. It's been quite sometime since I've been out and about in this city."

Cordelia seconded the motion with conditions. "If I'm not too tired, if I find a really great outfit and as long as Angel is banned from any karaoke singing, I'm there," she said the last with a look of distaste.

Willow laughed and her juice redirected itself down the wrong pipe. Alternately coughing and laughing, she managed to get out, "Angel sings?!"

Cordelia and Gunn looked at each other and deadpanned in unison, "Badly." The four of them shared giggles and laughter, then Spike filled the trio in on an historical account of his sire's failed singing attempts.

"Peaches has *never* been able to hold a note for as long as I've known him. God knows he's tried, though."

Cordelia said, "After two hundred years, you'd think he would have just broken down and gotten himself a vocal coach."

Spike smirked, "We tried that once. Angelus got so frustrated by the demands the poor guy made on him, that he ate him in a fit of pique."

The room grew quiet after being fed this bit of information, so Willow attempted to steer them back to the original topic. "Anyways, in answer to your generous invitation, Gunn, you'll have to help me navigate the city's scene some other time. I've already made plans. Maybe tomorrow night?"

That got the group's attention. Spike asked, "Made plans? Doing what?"

"Well, Angel asked if I had some free time to do some catching up with him later. Wants to do some bonding and re-hash my non-existent love life. I guess he wants to play big brother an maybe beat up the people responsible for hacking my poor heart to bits," she said melodramatically.

The room grew deadly quiet as the thoughts of the trio raced, while Willow sipped contentedly at her tumbler of juice.

< Well, it's about time!> Cordy thought.

<Cool. But wait. I hope Angel's not plannin' on getting jiggy with it tonight, cause that would be kinda triflin'…> Gunn mused.

<And so the seduction begins.> Spike thought approvingly.

Willow came out of her nonsensical reverie, noting the silence. She uneasily addressed the three. "What?! Why'd everybody wax catatonic just now?"

They hurried to reassure her and to throw her off the scent. Rounds of "nothings" followed by individual responses of, "I was thing of maybe getting a manicure," to "I was wondering if Mick's Automotive has transmissions for a '68 Plymouth Belvedere GTX," and "I wonder if Kevin Spacey will win another Oscar", effectively quashed their silence. Willow was set as ease, not noticing Cordelia, Gunn and Spike's collective sighs of relief.

Cordy lightly elbowed Willow saying, "C'mon, Will. You know that the sales-"

"Wait for no woman. I know." Willow finished her statement for her. Rinsing and placing her glass in the dishwasher, she turned to pick up her bag. "I'm ready," she said to Cordy, who was busy tugging her out of the kitchen. "See you two later," Willow called over her shoulder.
 

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