~Part: 1~

"I'm not going, Buffy."
Willow's voice was stern as her best friend's eyes pleaded with her.
"Willow, come on.  I'm not saying, move on.  All I'm saying is, come.  Remember
all those times
you encouraged me after multiple Angel woe?  I went to Homecoming ... if late
and almost killed.
And the Prom.  Even the Spring Fling after world savage and actually being killed."

"I know you did.  And, bravo.  But I don't want to go to the Pi Beta Whatevera
Valentine's Ball.  I
mean, Valentine's dances are a kind of couply thing.  Which couples go to.
And it isn't fancy dress
or anything ... well, not costume fancy.  It's black tie fancy.  Which, again,
is a couply thing.  I'll
stay in, and watch ... Meg Ryan movies, or something."
"Wi-ill!  What if I find you a-"
"No.  No blind dates or set-ups.  That is also not a Valentine's thing.  It
just adds pressure to the
already pressure high occasion."
"But Willow ... you aren't making your resolve face, so you must want to go
a little.  And you know
how few formal dances there are at college, unless you're one of the med or
law students.  Which
we aren't!  And, and this is so exclusive!  We're totally lucky to be invited,
you can't just refuse."
"Buffy, why is this so important?"
"I don't know.  It's just ... a change.  Something new.  A chance to pretend
to get away from Oz
and the Initiative and all those little things.  And Xander wrangled tickets
from one of the sorority
sisters in exchange for birthday shots, so he'll be there.  It's Anya's first
ever ball ... don't you
want to share?"
"Buffy, sharing is all well and good.  But I am not going solo to a Valentine's
Day ball.  It isn't
done.  And you know you wouldn't go in my place, either."
Buffy sighed, her face setting into a pout.  "You're probably right.  But we'll
miss you."
"Well, darn tootin'!  But Meg and I will be fine."
"Hang on.  Are we talking Sleepless in Seattle or When Harry Met Sally fine
here?  Should I knock
before entering?"
"Don't worry, I think we're talking You've Got Mail fine."

~

Willow looked up from her web page for about the thirtieth time, and straight
at the source of her
distraction.  His eyes flicked back to the television as she met them, and he
scrunched down in his
seat.  At least he had stopped wriggling, however momentarily.
It was weird, feeling his eyes on her whenever she tried to focus on the pages
she was
researching.  Just as well she wasn't in the midst of some life-and-death demon
hunting, but
keeping an eye on things.
*And whenever I catch him, he just looks away.  What on earth is he mucking
around like this
for?  Does he want me to do a spell or something for him?*
Grumbling softly, she turned back to her work.
 

~

Spike cautiously sat up straighter, and slowly, slowly angled his head to look
at the witch.  She was
absorbed in the computer again, although her hand had paused momentarily on
the mouse.
*Shit, does she know I'm looking at her again?  Damn, must be more subtle.
Or grow some balls
and talk to her.  Nope, gonna be more subtle.  Bleedin' Christ I've gone soft.*

His eyes drifted again.  He tapped his right foot a couple of times.  He shrugged
his shoulders.  He
shifted his left foot so that it lay across his right knee.  He scratched his
neck.
"Spike!" Willow yelled, leaping out of her seat and glaring at him.
He gulped.
"Er, what, pet?"
"What is wrong with you?  You are fidgeting, you're staring at me, you're tapping
and sighing and
doing anything but watching the television.  You are driving me crazy!  Er!"

"Oh.  Um, am I?"
She stared at him in disbelief, and he saw something akin to scorn enter her
green eyes.
"'Um, am I?'" she repeated.  "You're a kick-ass vampire and you're asking me,
the boring little
mortal girl, 'um, am I?'?  Has that chip rotted your spine as well as your head?"

"What the hell?" he spat, standing up and spinning to face her.  *I'm the only
one who can question
that!*  "Do you want me to show you who's still got spine and balls and anything
more that's in
question?  I can do a fair bit of damage before my head explodes, I can tell
you that.  I'm still a
bloody demon, I'll have you bloody know!"
"Then why don't you go do something demonic instead of writhing about on Giles'
couch like you
had ... had fleas!  Or something!"
"Well if I did, pet, they'd be from your little wolfboy!  Did you have to use
a special shampoo after
all your dates?"
Willow rolled her eyes.  "Ugh!  I finally stop mention Oz all the time, and
you bring him up!  Thank
you very much, Deadboy."
"Hang on, that's the poof's nickname, thank you very much!  I haven't bloody
sunk that low."
"Yet," Willow said pointedly.  He narrowed his eyes back at her.
"I've still got willing fangs, I'll have you know."
"Well, bite your arm, or something!  What is with you tonight?"
He looked at her consideringly, his lips pursed.
"Earth to Spike?"
"Valentine's Day."
Willow's mouth dropped open in shock.  "Vampires celebrate Valentine's Day?"

"Well, we were human once, pet.  And the ladies like it.  It's ... romantic."

"Romantic?"
His jaw set and a muscle in his cheek twitched as she tried to stifle her giggles.

"Bloody hell.  Keeps them a willing shag then.  Happy?"
"Mmm-hmm!"
She quieted her giggles, but every now and then a twitch of her lips or shake
of her shoulders
would give her away.  He scowled.
"So this year, you're Drusilla-less, and whin- um, miser- um, you wish she was
here?"
"Hell, no.  Couldn't care less.  But it's a time when, well, you take stock
of your options."
"Do you want Harmony back?"
"Bloody hell, don't even joke about it.  Have you any, and I mean any, idea
how stupid that chit
was?"
"Yeah, it was pretty much a given."
He nodded in agreement.  "I must have been drunk.  Very drunk.  And insane."

"Spike ... if it's not Dru or Harmony ... you don't want me to find you a girlfriend,
do you?  'Cause,
if I knew how to find a girlfriend or a boyfriend or whatever, I wouldn't be
sitting here on a Friday
night doing background research with Giles' books and some of the less helpful
or at all navigable
web sites."
"It's not that."
Willow looked at the blonde vampire, frustrated.  "Then spit it out.  Are you
out of blood?  Do you
need some unreachable - and G-rated - itch scratched?  Do you want me to send
you a Valentine
from a 'secret admirer' to give you a happy?"
"I damn well want you to come to the ball with me!"
"The ...?  The Valentine's Ball?  Like as in a ... as your ... you and ...?"
She stopped speaking and
just stared at him, astonished.
"Yeah."
"Why?"
He glared at her, but she was having none of it.
"Oh, no you don't.  If you try intimidating me, then I just won't go with you."

"For a 'little mortal girl' you're bloody tough, pet."
"It's a gift."
"I ... sort of ... likeyouquiteabit ... and I knew you wanted to go, and Buffy
left your ticket here,
and it says right on it, Willow Rosenberg and partner ... and I thought, well
... it could be fun."
She hung on to the most important part of the sentence, the only part she'd
heard.
"You like me quite a bit?"
"Well, yeah."
*In an Old Faithful kinda way?*
"Because I bring you blood and don't stake you and am generally personable?"

Spike gave her an almost shy smile, feeling like he had as a human.  Raw, breakable
... and so
damn wanting.
"Because you're the only bloody one who's been halfway decent to me and you
make me think of
something other than bein' miserable," *and you're beautiful and sexy* "and
you're ... well, you're
fair gorgeous, pet, and I want to see you in some magnificent dress and smiling
and dancin' only
with me."
"Oh."
"So will you?"
"Um."
He gave in.  "Please?"
She looked at him, startled.  "I don't think I've ever heard you say 'please'
before."
"It's a difficult word for demons to use while retaining any sense of pride
or power," he muttered.
"Spike ... if you are doing this for some kind of sick joke ... I will personally
stake you with a ...
with a pencil.  The great William the Bloody, laid low by a pencil.  And I will
tell every vamp in
Sunnydale.  You'll be a legendary joke."
He believed her.  He'd heard it was called her resolve face.
"No joke, pet.  Just a ... date."
"You know, Buffy might kill you anyway."
"Worth it," he replied, shooting her a grin.
"Really?" Willow smiled.
*I love that smile.*  "Really."
"Oh, Goddess, I have to find something to wear!"
She flew out the room, leaving him dumbstruck.
*Well ... I presume that's a yes.*
 

~Part: 2~

Willow found the perfect dress in the third shop she tried.  She knew the theme
of the ball was
classic red and white, so it would fit that.  And it checked in under all her
other categories.  Which
were basically - suitable for a ball, and a high neckline so as not to tempt
certain demons with too
much skin.  Check.
It was a simple, elegant dress, in snow white.
*Is white too innocent?  Well, I'm sure as sugar not going to wear red.*
It was a sleeveless design, full length and elegant.  The neckline was round
and trimmed with a
thin band of white satin.  White gauze spanned from the neck to the low-cut
bodice, and the slight
duskiness of her skin could be seen beneath it.  The bodice was fitted, and
fell into the close-cut
lines of the skirt, which had a lengthy split at the back.  It was the sort
of dress that could be worn
at a stylish wedding.
And it wasn't a Drusilla dress, or a Buffy dress.  The dress combined innocence
and maturity, and
felt like a Willow dress.  She felt beautiful.
*Oh, holy Goddess, I'm going on a date with Spike.*
She couldn't deny the thrill that went through her.  It made buying the dress,
and the several
yards of snowy gauze that made a wrap for it, an awful lot easier.

~

"Buffy, you look amazing!"
"You can talk!  Willow, my God, you look ... beyond words.  Do I get to know
who the lucky man
is, or do I have to just wait and see?"
"I, I think waiting might be best."
"Spoilsport."
Buffy was wearing a metallic, dark red dress.  It was long, but showed off a
lot of leg with a wide
split in the front.  It was held up by two mere straps of nothing, and in the
ample space between
her neck and bodice she wore a red-gemmed crucifix.  Standard Slayer accessorizing.
Her hair
was loose, but held back on one side with a small posy of  red roses.
Willow had taken the time to get her hair styled.  It had been just long enough
to pull back, and
the stylist had completely bound it underneath a mass of white satin roses.
Delicate curls framed
her face, and softened the widow's peak that her hair formed.  She wore diamond
studs in her
ears, and a diamond-studded Star of David that had been her grandmother's on
a heavy gold
chain about her neck.  She wondered if the religious symbol had the same effect
as the crucifix on
vampires.  In any case, it shouldn't be a bother unless he tried for her neck.
Which wasn't likely to
happen unless he suffered a meltdown.
The knock at the door made her jump, despite knowing that it was Riley, or Xander
and Anya.
She had made Spike agree to come a little later.  Hopefully Buffy wouldn't cause
a scene amongst
the crowd at the ball.
Buffy leapt to the door, and let in Xander and Anya.  The former demon wore
a red dress with a
tight, cap-sleeved bodice of lace and then a full satin skirt.  Her hair was
elaborately curled and
she was bouncing with delight.  Xander wore a somewhat dodgy white tuxedo with
a dark red tie.
He had also sprung for flowers for both Anya and himself; she a wrist corsage
of red roses and he
a similar lapel spray.
"Willster, you look like an angel!"  He grimaced.  "Like, a heavenly one and
not a vampiric one,
that is.  But fully awesome."
"Thanks.  You guys look great too.  Anya, will you ever dress normally again?"

Anya's face was dreamy.  "I don't think so, but I'm told the heels will be killing
me by the end of
the night.  So, ask me then."
"And Buff, we're breaking Riley's heart tonight?"
Buffy winked at Xander.  "Him and every other guy in the house."
"You're a wicked girl."
"I can have my fun."
Riley's eyes, a few seconds later, were certainly full of Buffy, although he
did hand Willow a "You
look very nice".  She forgave him, knowing that his eyes were busy, and she
didn't really want his
eyes on her anyway.  His tuxedo was classic and wholesome, and he had a white
orchid to place
on Buffy's wrist.  It was probably just as well it wasn't to pin on her dress
... that kind of weight
might have caused the bodice to cross the indecency line.
They waved their goodbyes, promising to see her soon.
*Oh Goddess, I am so nervous.  What if he doesn't come?  What if he comes?
What am I doing,
apart from going on a date with the sexiest guy I've ever seen in my life who
also happens to have
tried to kill me more than once?*
The knock on the door was perfectly on time.  She eyed the door, remembered
that she needed to
breathe, and sucked in a helpful breath.  *Well, I guess he showed.*
Opening the door led her to suck in another breath.  And he did the same, despite
not needing to
for two hundred years now.
"Damn, you look good enough to eat, pet.  Absolutely beautiful."
"You do too ... in a manly sort of way, I mean ... and no eating."
She stared at him as his eyes drank her in.  His black tuxedo was ultra formal,
fitting and suave.
It even had tails.  But what really caught the eye was the dark red satin shirt.
It was open at the
collar, informal but incredibly sexy.  His smooth, pale skin lay beneath.  He
had one of those
handkerchiefs peeking out from his jacket pocket, the same dark red as his shirt.
And he wasn't
wearing either boots or his duster.
*Oh, Goddess.  He looks ... he looks ... like pure sex.  I ... have a strange
urge to lick him.  Oh,
Goddess.*
He couldn't believe the vision that stood before him.  She looked ... innocent
and childlike yet
mature and beautiful.  And sexy, because the cut of the bodice and skirt were
so close.  When she
turned around to pick up her purse, he saw the heavenly length of her legs through
the split in the
back.  She blushed under his hot eyes, and the pink glowed through the white
gauze.  The hint of
cleavage the bodice showed ... so tempting.  And he liked the gauze that wrapped
about her arms,
just because it looked fun to play with.  The sort of stuff you could tie someone's
arms to the bed
with, while you slowly kissed your way down their silken skin.
*Hell and damnation, how am I going to keep my hands off her?*
"Oh, I brought you more flowers, luv."
"You brought me a corsage?  Wow, you're good at this Valentine's thing, Spike.
You are definitely
on the track for a 'willing shag'."
He lost his smile and gaped at her.
*Holy something!*
"Spike, I'm kidding."
"Goddamn."
"... Probably."
He grinned, then.
"So I have to work on it.  Well, pet, I thrive on challenge."
She smiled back as she locked the door.
*Oh goody!*

~

The sorority had arranged for the function room at one of Sunnydale's better
hotels, and the
ceilings were a mass of red and white balloons and streamers.  Everywhere Willow
looked were
girls in red or white, and the occasional pink, and guys in black, white or
red.  And more than a
few of those girls were admiring the man at her side.
She caught one guy giving her an approving look, and smiled.  It had been too
long since she felt
beautiful.
Spike turned to her, removing his arm from hers and sliding a strong hand down
to take her hand.
"Dance before we find the others, luv?"
"You just want to grope me before you get staked," she teased.
He gave her a startled look, then a leer.  "Well, I can do that."
"I'd love to dance," she replied seriously, listening as the music paused.
One of the Backstreet
Boys' ballads had come on, and suddenly she didn't mind them at all.
He led her onto the dance floor, bringing her close.  He was a good dancer.
He was an excellent
dancer.
Which was good, because she was thinking and wanting and not really doing the
paying attention
thing.
Spike was holding her as close as possible without embarrassing himself.  Unless,
of course, she
wouldn't mind being embarrassed … he had hopes.
She was warm and delicious in his arms, smelling of the upcoming spring.  She
was wonderful.
Willow drew away slightly as the song ended, trying to control a dreamy expression.

"That was nice," she smiled.
"More'n nice, luv.  Shall we go find the Slaypuppies?"
"I don't know if I like being a Slaypuppy," she giggled.
"Oh, you're not, pet.  You're a goddess."  His finger traced circles against
her skin, and she drew a
deep breath.
"Spike!  It's Spike!  And … Willow … Will, where's your, he's not your, right?"

Willow's head bounced back and forth as Buffy's did, her friend's expression
confused and heading
towards panicked.
"Willow and I are here together," Spike said firmly, sending a little thrill
through her heart.
"Oh."  Buffy's face fell, but she glanced at Riley, and gave Willow and Spike
a tight-lipped
smile.  "Well, have a nice time."
"How nice?" Willow asked hopefully.
"Will!  Not that nice.  But ..."  Buffy shrugged.  "Have fun."
"Thank you."
"You, too ... Buffy."
Buffy nodded at Spike, then leveled a finger at him, reminding Willow of herself
with Riley.
"But you hurt her ..."

~

"I cannot believe I got the Slayer seal of approval as your date," Spike whispered
in her ear, as he
stepped behind Willow, wrapping his arms about her waist.  Her knees trembled,
but she rested
her head easily back against his chest.
"I think the Willow seal of approval is a bit more crucial."
"Well, true, pet, but even if you didn't approve, you wouldn't go around staking
innocent blokes
through the heart and all."
"Innocent?" she queried, turning around in his arms.
Spike watched her, and enigmatic smile on his face.  She held still.  *Is he
going to ...*
His lips were soft on hers, just brushing before he moved away.  As she opened
her eyes, he was
watching her intently.
She stood frozen for a moment, then smiled at him.
"That was an innocent kiss.  Spike, all those years and still innocent?"
His eyes lit up as she teased.
"Witch," he murmured, pressing closer to her and bending his head again.  This
kiss was anything
but innocent, knowing and dangerous.  "Minx."  His mouth was hard on hers, his
tongue teasing
and seeking entry.  She gave in, meeting his tongue with her own.  He kissed
her breathless, then
ran his hand down her throat and between her breasts to her stomach.  "Goddess."

Willow sucked in air.  Air was good.  And then she leaned into his strong body.

"Is it too early to go home?"
"Spike!  It's Spike!"
They turned as one to look at Xander, Anya in tow.
"Yeah.  We've been through that one, mate."
"And Willow!"
Willow shot Xander a glare.  "Yes.  Spike and Willow.  Willow and Spike.  And
we're dancing right
now."
As she dragged Spike back to the dance floor, she heard Anya speak up.
"That wasn't dancing."

~

Despite her former eagerness to leave, Willow spent the rest of the night in
Spike's arms.  He
absolutely refused to dance with anyone else, and that was just fine with her.

Every song, whether it was slow or more upbeat, seemed to be especially chosen
from them.
Willow even read meaning into Britney Spears and Ricky Martin.  She was giddy
with delight.
It all felt real again.
Spike slanted her a speculative look as another couple left the room.
"So, pet?"
"It's all over, huh?" she sighed.
"Well I hear they have an Easter ball."
She smiled at him, taking his hand as they walked from the room.  Some of the
red and white
balloons had drifted from the ceiling, and he stopped to pick up a red one,
solemnly handing its
ribbon to her.
Willow watched it bob a moment or two.
"Should we walk back to the hall?  Or are you all back-to-my-crypt-y?"
"The hall is good, luv.  I can't offer you coffee at the crypt.  And it's not
very Valentine's-y, is it
now?"  He gave her another weighing look.
She met his stare, raising an eyebrow.
"You know, coffee makes me jittery."
He shrugged.  "Milk's good too."
"Drink of champions," she nodded, her face serious.
Finally he cracked a smile.
"Slayer be home?" he asked, his tone casual.
"Tomorrow morning," she replied, giving him an arch look.
"How'd I do?  As your Valentine?"
"You were good, Spike.  I had a wonderful time."  She squeezed his hand, watching
her balloon
float beside her again.
They walked back to Stevenson Hall in companionable silence, happily hand in
hand.
 

~Part: 3~

As Willow unlocked her room, he paused momentarily in the hallway.  She turned
to watch him
come into the room, savoring the single step.
She shut the door quietly, once more watching him to see what he would do.
His stare was intense, and she felt herself shiver as he moved towards her.

Spike cupped her face in his hands, his lips touching hers in a tender kiss.
His hands then slid
down her neck, and over her arms, removing the wrap from her shoulders.
Willow put her arms around his neck, her face trusting.  He drew her close,
his hands settled on
her hips as he kissed her.  His mix of kisses that were a gentle caress and
then passionate and
demanding were maddening, making her want to melt and then leaving her breathless.

As he let her catch back some of her breath, his fingers touched her back slightly,
and he looked
at her seriously.
"So," he said, very, very softly.  "Will you?"
"Oh yes," she replied, just as low.
His shoulders seemed to loosen, and he started to kiss her again.  When she
began to whimper, he
shifted his lips to her throat, teasing over her skin.
"Always?" he murmured, holding her close against him.
"Always," she whispered back, running a hand through his hair.
Spike took her hand, kissing slowly down the bare skin of her arm.  His tongue
swirled into the
crook of her elbow, moistening the skin with its cool touch.  His lips trailed
down her forearm, and
then to the inside of her wrist.  He gently bit the soft skin, and Willow jumped.

Holding her hand, he spun her around, taking the roses out of her hair.  As
he placed them on her
dresser, he paused to drink in their scent, and Willow smiled.
He then moved closer to her, smelling her hair and her neck, his tongue tasting
her flesh.
"You smell better," he said huskily, his mouth claiming hers again.
Spike carefully removed the corsage he had bought her, unpinning the buds from
her chest.
Willow tried not to hyperventilate as his fingers touched, oh-so-gently, her
breasts.
He looked at her a moment, taking in each inch of her.  His eyes narrowed as
he thought of
something, and formed a plan of ultimate seduction.
"Valentine's Day," he mused.
"Uh … yeah."
"Turn around again, pet."
Willow obeyed, turning on one heel so her back was to him again.  His hands
touched the top of
her spine, smoothing out over her shoulders, and then tracing down her sides
and over the slim
curves of her hips.  Then back, and lightly to the zipper of her dress.
He slid the zip firmly down, and pressed even closer to her.  Parting the material,
he kissed the
base of her neck.
"I love you."
Then the skin between her shoulder blades.
"I love you."
He slipped the clasp of her bra undone, and kissed the skin beneath it.
"I love you."
The small of her back.
"I love you."
And the edge of her panties, his mouth lingering and tongue lightly tasting.

"I love you."
Willow gave a small, pleased murmur, and then shivered as Spike slid his hands
inside her dress.
He lowered it slowly, running it down her arms and then gliding the material
over her hips.    She
stepped out of the dress and stood there in palest rose underwear, her bra already
unclasped, her
stockings and shoes still on.
Spike knelt and removed her shoes one at a time, and she felt him breathe cool
air against the
back of her knees.  He carefully stripped her stockings free, and then stood
again, running his
fingers over the backs of her legs as he rose.  She trembled violently at the
touch, her breathing
growing faster.
His body pressed against hers, his very obvious need for her hard between them.
He drew his
arms around her, laying his cool, large hands on her stomach.
Slowly they traveled up her skin, impressing their strength on her body.  Finally
he cupped her
breasts, his mouth delicately skimming over her shoulders.
Willow arched into his touch, wanting to be more than just held.  He took his
hands away, ignoring
her whimper and removing her bra.  She bit her lip, waiting, waiting,
Spike paused, watching the slight tremors that played over her shoulders.  She
was tense and
wanting, waiting for him to touch her again.  He was going to worship her perfect
little toes off, he
wanted her begging and eager and screaming for him.
Of course, her smell was driving him wild, but you didn't pass a century and
more without learning
a little control.
*Oh, who am I kidding?*
He ran his flat thumbs over the gentle swell of the undersides of her breasts
and roughly over her
nipples.  At his touch they hardened, and over her shoulders he could see their
color deepen
slightly, the most maddening shade of rose he had ever seen.
His hands cupped her this time, molding her round flesh in his large hands.
Blood and heat flushed
her delicately, his pale skin in contrast to hers.  Willow moaned, her head
sliding back against his,
and her ass arching against him.  He plucked her nipples with his fingers, and
one of her hands
slammed into his back, drawing him even closer to her.
"Spike."
Spike reluctantly let her breasts go, spinning his near-nude goddess around
to face him.  Taking
her hand again, he led her to her bed.  She sat quickly, her tongue touching
her upper lip in
anticipation.
Willow watched Spike undress hurriedly, ripping off jacket and shirt with barely
a concern for
buttons or anything mundane like that.  He shucked off his trousers, no underwear,
and -
*Oh Goddess.*
The breath whooshed out of her as he scrambled onto the bed, still kicking his
trousers free.  She
giggled madly, and he swallowed her laughter with deep, dizziness-inducing kisses.

He paused, and Willow drew a few quick, oxygen happy breaths.  He looked he
straight in the eye,
holding her gaze as he lowered his face to her stomach.
He swirled his tongue in her belly button, and she felt heat spread through
her body.  He rose
against her, his cock briefly coming into contact with her oh so very wet panties,
and he kissed her
collarbone.
"I love you," he began again.
Her loved her all the way down her left side, especially her nipple, and then
all the way down her
right side.  Especially the nipple.  And then Spike hooked his fingers inside
her panties, and pulled
them free.
"Willow," he said roughly, staring at her soft red hair, and then flicking his
gaze back to her eyes.
"Y-yes?" she stammered, her throat thick.
He arched a cocky brow, bending down and teasing her slick, hot skin with a
cool breath.
"Guess what?"
She licked her lips.
"You love me."
"I do?"
"Yes.  Yes, you do," Willow said quickly, breathing hard.  "Please love me."

He was still looking at her as his tongue touched her, and Willow drew in a
long, ragged breath.
"Spike," she whimpered, lifting and squirming to feel more of his cool mouth
upon her.
He licked at her clit, sucking at it delicately and then snaking his tongue
around it.  Then his tongue
was running over the lips of her cunt, teasing a little inside her, then withdrawing
back again.
And then Spike really went to work, his face buried between her thighs.  Willow's
head was flung
back, her hands were clamped around his head, and it was just as well he didn't
breath, because
she wasn't letting him go anywhere.  She was hot and he was cold and there was
very likely steam
emanating from her core as the two touched.
His teeth finally ran over her swollen, tender clit, and Willow gasped out,
rocking her body against
him, panting as her cunt spasmed and he drank her juices eagerly.
Her fingers trailed lightly through his hair, then fell back on the bed as she
took a moment's well-
deserved rest.
Spike moved slowly up her body as she recovered, licking and sucking, biting
gently and stroking
with his hands.  She felt herself reawaken, growing eager with need again.
He laid his body atop hers, his cock pushing enthusiastically against her, his
chest brushing hers as
he kissed her again.  He tasted of her now, and -
"Oh fuck!"
Willow pressed her lips together, watching him rub the skin on his chest.  She
wasn't sure whether
she wanted to laugh or apologize.
"I forgot about that," he admitted, carefully and gingerly removing her Star
of David necklace from
her neck.  He actually hissed as he swung it gently to her dresser, and she
realized he was
vamped out.  She'd not even noticed.
He seemed to notice at the same time, closing his eyes and letting his features
resettle.
"Er.  Sorry about that."
"I don't mind," she said softly.  "If I happened to be doing a spell and went
all eye-glowy, you
wouldn't care, would you?"
"Well, no," he replied.  "But it's a bit … obvious, innit?"
"A bit," she nodded.  "And … back to the main story?"
He laughed at her push, and brought his knee gradually up between her own.
Settling inside her
thighs, he drew his hand to her clit and stroked her.  His fingers pushing inside
her cunt to ready
her had Willow quickly babbling encouragement, then pleading for something more.

Spike moved his hand, placing a hand each side of her and tensing his shoulders
slightly.  She
wrapped her arms about his neck, and her legs about his waist, rubbing against
his hard cock.  He
groaned, and moved back slightly before plunging deep inside her.
She was warm and wet and ready, but still stretched by the force of him inside
her.  His next thrust
was deeper and more amazing, and after that Willow was mindless as he stroked
into her.
Spike was absolutely intent on moving as deep and fast inside of her as he could.
She was hot
and wet and tight and he had never felt anything so good in his unlife.
She scored her nails over his shoulders with a wild, eager groan, and he slipped
his hand between
them, twisting at her clit.  Willow yowled, bucking against him with her legs
locked at his back.  He
grunted and drove within her one last time, yelling her name as he collapsed
against her, pouring
himself into her throbbing cunt.
"Told you," he groaned, easing from her and rolling to his back, pulling her
to rest atop him.

~

Willow murmured in complaint as Buffy quietly came into the room, far too early
when Spike had
only left an hour before, needing to get back to his crypt before dawn started
shining through
pesky, budget Hall of Residence curtains.  She pulled the blankets over her
head, curling up into
them and feeling delicious twinges of over-exertion.
"Will?  You awake?"
Willow mmphed.
"So, anyway …" Buffy hinted, tapping her hands on her desk.  "You and Spike
… what's that about?"
Willow smiled into her blankets.
"Oh, you know.  Just a Valentine's thing."

END

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