~Part: 1~

Willow stared at Buffy in complete disbelief.

"Chicago?  Chicago?!"

"You bet!" the blonde said happily.  "Now that the Initiative has been blown
sky high, there's the usual no-boo nights of patrol.  And Giles has reports
of badness, so we are gooooooing to Chicago!  I'm so shopping already!  Do I
look cute in lavender?"

"You look great in lavender."  Willow responded automatically, her mind
still spinning.

"And it's so cool that Xander saved enough so he and Anya could go to
Hawaii.  Very kissage-worthy.  Anya's going to get a tan.  And she was
asking about sand when you were ... you know.  I so didn't want to go there.
  And Riley- "
Buffy's face fell a little, and Willow squished down her anger and annoyance
to sympathise with her best friend.

"Riley's in Iowa, as you know.  All good.  But, anyway, Chicago!  And 'cause
we have to move out of the dorm, I was going to need somewhere to stay- "

"What?" Willow interrupted in alarm.  "Are we supposed to have our
off-campus apartments decided already?"
Buffy turned from the mirror to look at her in surprise.

"I can't get an apartment, Wills.  I'm way too busy to cook, and clean.
Slayage, remember?  And you know, we get new rooms next semester, bigger
ones, so we have to get rid of our stuff.  I did tell you, didn't I?  You
have applied for the dorm?"

"Sure.  Yes, of course you did, and yes, I have.  I just forgot about the
moving thing," Willow agreed quietly.  Now she not only had no friends for
the summer, she had nowhere to live next year?

*This is just too much.*

~

"Thank you, Spike.  Xander helped me during the day, but Anya dragged him
off again after a couple of hours.  Two hours of Xanderlessness was enough,
apparently."

Spike set down the last of Willow's boxes at the back of her garage, with a
pronounced snort at Anya's predicament.

"Well, pet, I was getting a bit strapped for cash.  People don't carry
bloody bills in their wallets anymore!  All they have is plastic, but of
course you don't know that till they're dead ..."

He drifted off at Willow's horrified gaze.

"Oh, that was before, Red.  Now I've had to revert to bloody pickpocketing.
I'm damn
glad they don't take hands anymore for that."

He waggled his fingers at her, and she grimaced in further horror.

Willow shook her head to get rid of the unnerving images.  *Eeeeuw.*

"I guess I'm lucky Mum and Dad haven't changed my room into another office
yet," she said sadly, looking over towards the house.  "They didn't worry
about it because they already planned to spend the summer in Japan.  All
arranged, no company required."

"That's a bit harsh, then.  You'll just have to get your revenge by throwin'
lots of loud and raunchy parties while they're gone, that'll show 'em.
Slutty's reputation will draw in half the male population of Sunnyhell, and
the rest'll come to laugh at Chubs.  And you know, I make a mean Bloody
Mary."  He snapped his teeth for emphasis.

Willow laughed.  "I don't know any Marys."  Her sad face returned.

"Besides, Buffy and Giles are going to Chicago for the summer.  Sunnydale
has been declared trouble-free.  And Xander and Anya are going to Hawaii
next week for the rest of the month."

"What?" he asked in disgust.  "What about you?  And what about me?!  I'm
bad, I am!  I might raise hell!"

"I'm not invited," she said quietly, making a face.  "And you are defanged,
remember?"

He pouted.  "Can't bloody forget.  And still!  I'm bloody unappreciated, you
know.  And you.  At least you like them, do them favors and the sort.
Bloody wankers."

Willow shrugged.  "I have a few things I can do.  Research.  Practice my
withcraft.  Maybe patrol ..."  Her face was doubtful.  "Oh, and not write to
Tara."

Spike chuckled at her now dark face.  "Women, luv.  Heartbreakers, through
and through."

She looked at him hesitatingly.  "You knew?"

He answered her with a shrug.  "Nothing wrong with it, pet.  D'you feel that
way about girls in general, or what?"

She sighed.  "Nope, just her.  And I tried, I got burned.  I think I'll
stick to boys."

"There you go then.  Boys are good."

She gave him a considering stare.  "Of course, you and Angel."

"Angelus, thank you very much."  He looked into the distance.  "And he was
the only git I ever had a thing for.  Girls ... smell nicer."

Willow smiled, and took out her wallet to give him the fifty dollars she had
promised.

He shook his head.  "Hang on to it, pet.  Maybe you'll find somewhere to
spend it over the summer."

He took out a cigarette, and left the garage without a goodbye, Willow
watching after him.

~

Willow mentally cringed as she sat down in front of Oprah for the fourth
time in the four days since the weekend.  She swore she could feel her brain
dribbling out her ears and pooling on the floor.  Yuck.

The phone rang, and she slowly moved her hand to answer it.  Probably the -
she momentarily calculated - the seventh wrong number she'd answered.  Or
the fifteenth telephone sales representative.  It certainly wouldn't be

"I'll call you!" Buffy, or "We'll send postcards!" Xander.

She growled, then picked up the phone from beside the jumbo bag of crisps
she had munched halfway through.

"Hello?"

"Red?"

"Spike?!"

"Right on the button, pet.  And what do you think of that new Book Club
title?"

She gaped at his guess, then abashedly admitted the truth.

"I liked Tuesday's better."

"Me, too," he sighed.  "Anyway, can you come round and watch with me?  I'm
bored out of my bloody tree."

"Sure," she agreed quickly.  "But, hang on, where are you?  You don't have a
TV in the crypt."

"Er ... right," he said slowly.  "But the Watcher said I could watch his.
Yup, he did.  And, er, help, myself to whatever."

"Spike, are you drinking all of Giles' liquor?"

"Not at all!  I'm not a total sot, I'll have you know.  Anyway, come over,
pet, come over.  I can't leave here for ages yet."

"Okay, okay.  I'll be over in quarter of an hour.  Happy?"

"I will be.  Quick, leave!  Hurry!  Run!"

"Spike ... you aren't ... better ... are you?" Willow asked with sudden
trepidation.

"What?  Oh, no.  Not bloody yet.  If I was better, I'd just order a pizza
... boy, luv."

"Just remember, I carry stakes.  Just remember."

"Committed to memory.  Now hurry!"
 

~Part: 2~

"It's open!" Spike yelled as Willow tapped on Giles' front door.  She
entered carefully, mindful that he could be standing near the door, and some
stray shaft of sunlight could touch him.
As she shut the door behind herself, Spike swooped out of the darkened room
to hug her.
"Willow!  Willow!" he cried, bouncing up and down.
"Spike!  Ooof!" she gasped as he squeezed her mercilessly.  "Spike, have you
had ... coffee?  Sugar?"
He gave her a guilty grin.  "Sugar.  But mostly I am just bored out of my
skull, pet.  I've been waiting for some news, you know."
"Oh?" she asked curiously, plopping down in front of the television, her
eyes fixing on the screen.
"Uh-uh," he cautioned, hurriedly turning the addictive talkshows off.  He
walked over to Giles' desk and slowly pulled out a drawer.  With a flourish,
he drew out a piece of paper, and tossed it into her hands.
Willow opened the airline ticket folder.
The two tickets were for Savannah, Georgia.  And the first one bore her
name.
She checked the second, which was for William Bradford.  She raised an
eyebrow at him.
"Bradford?"
"My last great secret," he grinned.  "Savannah is madly hot in the summer,
but the air is filled with magnolias and everyone naps in the day and then
sit out on their porches, sipping Scarlett O'Hara's and other delectable
maidens."
"I think it's alcohol they sip," she grinned back.  "And I love magnolias."
"There you go, then," he said, relieved.  "I hoped you'd like it."
She took his hand unconsciously.  "Spike - it's a holiday.  It's company.
I've heard Savannah is gorgeous . it will be wonderful."
He beamed at her, then his face fell as she frowned at him.
"Where did you get the money?"
A guilty look crossed his face.  "Well . you know . the Bradford name comes
with a small fortune ,,, and I've picked up some . stocks and things ."
"Then why the picking pockets?  And making us pay you to do things?" Willow
asked in confusion.
If he'd still been able, he would have blushed.  "I was never very keen on
my family bein' rich, luv.  Embarrassing and all, being trade money.  But
it's there if I need it.  So pack light . you can get a new summer wardrobe
while we're there.  Bikinis . and things."
Her look turned startled.
"There's a pool at the place I rented.  Indoors, it's cooler that way.
Thought we could swim ."
"That sounds fun," she nodded, then smiled again.  "It all sounds great."

~

The plane alighted at the Savannah airport at dusk, late in the warm Georgia
evening.  As Willow stepped from the plane, she breathed in the heady scent,
and felt her body flush at the heat.  It was glorious.
A car was waiting for them, and the driver politely took Willow's two small
bags.  She kept her backpack, and slid into the back seat of the dark car,
noting that the windows were tinted.  Spike followed her, settling back into
the softness of the seat.
Willow's gaze drank in the huge mansions, their white columns shining softly
in the dark.  The magnolia trees also lit the night, their large petals
gleaming.  And people were enjoying the cooler time of night, strolling
through the parks of the glorious city.
The car stopped outside a magnificent mansion in a secluded street lined
with magnolia trees.  Willow's eyes were huge as they left the vehicle, and
walked up a flight of ten dark stone steps.  The house had six columns in
the front, and was two stories high.  She could see the long windows of what
must be the enclosed pool at the back of the house.
The door was opened by a middle-aged black woman, and Willow noticed that
she wore a large silver cross about her neck.  *Good idea.*
"Good evenin' to you, Master William.  And Miss Willow.  Welcome to
Everheart.  I'm Mrs Best, the housekeeper."

~

Mrs Best disappeared discreetly as they went to see their rooms, the driver
following them with Willow's bags.  They climbed an enormous marble
staircase with gleaming wooden banisters, and ended up at the open door of a
huge bedroom.
The white walls had a tiny yellow and green flower pattern, and the pale
colour increased the size of the room.  A four-posted bed with a lacy canopy
stood in one corner, and in the other was arranged a dusky gold and mahogany
living area.  The driver opened the cabinet to reveal a television set and
stereo system, but Willow was more entranced in the room.
As she rushed to the full-length windows and French doors leading to a
balcony, she brushed her fingertips over the curtains, the same dusky gold
velvet as the chairs.  The bed was covered in silk sheets of the same
colour, and the spread was white lace over pale yellow.  A vase of heady,
pale magnolias stood by the bed, and there was an antique telephone beside
them.
She turned back to Spike as the driver spoke.  "I am Paul, and Miss Willow,
I am at your disposal during the day if you want to visit the town.  We have
a few staff here, but Mister William asked that we not disturb your stay.
Any time you want anything, just you call down to the kitchen.  It's number
nine on the dial.  And your bathroom is just through that door."  He
gestured at the dark wood door near her living area.
"Thank you, Paul," Willow smiled, and as the man left, she bounced up and
down in excitement.  "Spike ... this is beyond.  It's amazing."
"Shall we see my room?" he asked, and took her arm to lead her across the
hall.  She blushed a little at the thought they were so close, and then gave
herself a startled reprimand.  *He's Spike!  If you're very lucky, he might
just consider you a friend.  Certainly nothing more.*
Spike's room was of similar design, but his bed was sleigh-style rather than
four poster, and substantially bigger.  His walls were covered in a rich
blue pattern, and heavy blue drapes hung at shuttered windows.  He ran his
fingers over the blue satin sheets, and noted the more modern finishings.
The darker blue couches in the corner surrounded a coffee table spread with
his favourite soft-porn British mags, and he spied a small bar fridge
nearby.  He hurried over to look in it as Willow mooned over ... admired ...
the large dresser by his bed.
The refrigerator was well stocked with life's nectar, and the microwave on
top would keep it warm.  Bliss.

~

Willow felt Spike's eyes on her and looked up.
He was watching her calmly, his mouth hinting at a smile.
"Well, luv, what first?  Actually, what am I talking about?  Shall we
introduce ourselves to one of Savannah's finer eating establishments?"
"Now that you mention it ... I'm suddenly starving.  But, food?"
He gave a warm, low chuckle that was like nothing she'd ever heard from him.
"Good food is still good food, good drink is still good drink.  It's better
when you're alive, but they have some good music around, too.  And I have
the most charmin' of companions ... why don't you have a look in your
wardrobe and see if there's a surprise or two, and I'll see you in half an
hour?"
Willow blinked at that.  Surprise?  "Sure."
 

~Part: 3~

The mahogany armoire had several expensive and lovely dresses hanging within
its depths, all with matching shoes and light summer wraps.  There were even
purses to choose from.
Willow withdrew a cream silk dress, knowing instantly that it would be
perfect.  The virginal innocence of the colour was tempered by its low,
strapless bodice and the high splits in the sides of the slightly flared
skirt.  She quickly pinned up her hair, which had only just grown long
enough to do so.  The mirror reflected some lovely grown up girl, some other
Willow, who smiled back at her.
She'd never been so glad to be abandoned by her friends in her life.
The low knock at her door came as she was adding a touch of shine to her
ruby lipstick.  She blinked once at the mirror, at the goddess with the eyes
even greener than normal, then swayed her way to the door.
She smiled slowly as she looked at Spike.  Presumably he was unworried by
the heat, because he wore his suit jacket.  The suit was a soft charcoal,
framing a brilliantly blue shirt.  In the clear light of the hallway his
eyes were the endless blue of a desert sky.  He looked unbelievably
gorgeous.
Which meant she should probably stop gaping and say something.
"You look fantastic," she croaked, trying hard to smile normally.
He blinked quickly, and gave her a crooked smile.
"I look fantastic?  Pet ... you're stunning.  Amazing.  You don't even need
this, but I did get it for you ..."
He held up his hand, dangling from a finger a pendant.
Willow's eyes widened at the large, teardrop-shaped ruby hanging on a
slender gold chain.  And braver than she'd ever been, she looked him calmly
in the eye, smiling an enigmatic smile.
"Would you put it on for me?"
He moved slowly behind her, his hands stroking over her collarbone and then
gently smoothing back her hair from the base of her neck.  The pendant
dropped gently onto her chest, just above her cleavage.  It looked like a
warm, large drop of blood, and she exhaled softly.
Spike stepped in front of her again, his eyes aglow as he offered her his
arm.

~

The night blurred by, mellowed with good food, wine and company.  The warmth
in the air was reflected in her body, and her step was light as they
wandered back to the house.  It was close enough that they had sent the car
and driver home, wanting to enjoy the sounds and smells of the city.
They had danced at the restaurant, danced intimately close.  And he had
reached for her hand two blocks ago, his touch cool and then warmed by her
own.  It was casual, but caring.  It was enough to set her blood on fire.
It wasn't like she was a virgin.  And she'd known this man ... well, this
male ... for years, really.  So what if he'd tried killing her for most of
that time?
She just wouldn't say no, that was all.
If only he'd offer.

~

They reached home all to soon for Willow's liking, although she was willing
to trade romantic walks - the moon had risen as they wandered, large and
half-full - for more intimate inside objectives.  If they were suggested.
He walked her the whole way to her room, finally letting go of her hand as
she opened the door.
"What do we do now?" Spike whispered, his face close to hers in the dimmed
light of her room, lit only by the hallway.
She turned up her face, knowing what she wanted, wanted so badly.
"Spike," she whispered back, moving her hand to stroke his face.
It was all he needed.  A shudder went through him and then his lips were
gently touching hers, slowly gauging his welcome.
Willow smiled slightly into his kiss, then deepened it.  Surprised at first,
he met her intensity, his tongue moving to meet her own.  Blindly they
walked into her room, her hand fumbling for the light switch.
"I can see pretty well in the dark," Spike muttered, his kiss moving along
her jawline.
"I can't," she said intently, running her hands over his arms.
He opened his eyes, staring into her own.  A slow smile crossed his face,
and he paused in his kisses, looking over her.
"Beautiful Will, what have I done to deserve you?" he asked quietly, lifting
her hand and kissing it gently.
"You appreciated me," she replied simply.  And she dropped her wrap from her
shoulders, drawing him back towards her.

~

Perhaps in dark dreams and deep subconscious thought she had imagined how he
would be, strong and dominating, hard and demanding.  And his strength and
determination was evident, but he was clearly fine with taking it slow.
Which was more than fine, it was somewhere between Oz and Tara and she had a
sneaking suspicion it was perfect.  Because thinking was going right out the
door.
As they kissed, their hands were busy learning each others' bodies.  He had
the advantage, his large fingers stroking over plenty of bare flesh, every
inch teased into awareness.  Deliciously warm and still nowhere near the
bed, Willow circled the buttons on his jacket with a tantalizing finger,
then eased each one free.  As his jacket swung loose, she hurried it from
his shoulders.  It fell to the floor, and she ran eager hands over his arms,
gripping his shoulders for a hard kiss before working on the buttons of his
shirt.
He was giving her plenty of air, turning now to again stroke her jaw and
neck with feathery kisses.  She was dizzy with pleasure already, her hands
seeming far away as she slid loose the buttons.
His chest was smooth and pale, strong and surprisingly broad for his
slenderness.  She slid his shirt free and ran her hands across his skin,
noting with pleasure the dark and crisp hair that met her fingers just above
his belt.
Spike's lips found hers again, his hands stroking her shoulders.  He
hesitated at the zipper of her dress, hesitated as they finally found her
bed.
"If you keep stopping, I'll start thinking you don't want me," she said
huskily, spiraling a finger from his belly button to the edge of his pants.
He swallowed, a look of pleasure on his face as she toyed with him.
"Right," he nodded, his voice hoarse.  "No stopping, then."
 

~Part: 4~

He gently slid her zipper loose, then slid the silk down her body.  He took
a moment to appreciate the sight of her scantily clad form, in only her
underwear and heels.  Taking heed of her warning, his hands barely left her
body, although she felt them tremble slightly.
Spike pushed her gently against the bed, his hands trailing down her left
leg as she sat on the edge of her bed.  He removed her shoe, his fingers
stroking over the sole of her foot. Willow didn't know whether it was
tickling or arousing.  Both, maybe, she wanted to gasp and cry at the same
time.
With her right shoe it was even better. Her body was singing as he moved
above her, sweeping her back onto the slightly springy bed.  Every part of
her that he touched, she was sure she could remember forever, the coolness
of his skin burning and branding.  "I'm in my underwear, you're still in
your clothes," she protested as he drew back to give her time to breath.
Part of her wished he hadn't bothered, although she rethought it as his lips
teased along her jawline.
"That's because I don't wear underwear," he murmured, laughter touching cool
air against her warm skin.
"Then why am I still?"
"Women!" Spike snorted.
He leaned back, straddling her and offering her a cheeky grin.
Willow gulped, the heat in his gaze thrilling her as much as the arousal
pressed against her.  Her thighs were trapped between his, pressing her own
together and forcing her to breathe harder.
She bit her lip lightly as he traced his blunt, black-polished nails over
the flesh between bra and panties.  The strapless bra clasped in front, and
after several too-long seconds of torture, he snapped the clasp free.
Tossing the scrap of satin and lace away, Spike ran his hands over her
stomach and almost, almost to her breasts.  Then with a groan, he gave in
and lowered his head.
Willow had a bare moment to register his hardness ground against her, and
then his tongue was circling roughly around her nipple.  The only thought
she could form was good, and even that was lost as he sucked the swollen
peak into his mouth.
She clasped his head to her body, her fingers working through his blond
hair.  It curled so neatly on his head, how many times had she wanted to
mess it?  He let her nipple pop free from his lips, kissing her deeply once
again as his hand molded her breast.
He knew exactly how long to kiss her breathless, then drive her completely
mindless with his tongue on her other nipple.  The swollen bud he had
already tasted was plucked by his fingers, readying her further.
She was breathing hard as he lifted his head again, and his blue eyes, dark
with desire, watched her intently as he cupped her through her panties.
Willow knew very well how wet she was, craving him inside her.
Spike lifted her hips slightly, quickly sliding the last of her clothing
free.  His hand lightly covered her again, and she pushed up against him,
seeking the contact she needed.  His lips teased their way up her chest,
between her breasts and along her collarbone.  She was straining against his
hand, growing more aroused without even a touch.
He brushed his thumb over her clit, achingly once, and as she moaned in
desperation, once more.
Pushed beyond endurance, Willow struggled with his belt and then pulled his
trousers off.  Her hands slid over his ass, drawing his hard, thick arousal
against her own readiness.
She felt him smile against her skin, and then he kissed her hard and fast.
As his tongue swirled against hers, he thrust two fingers sharply inside her
slick passage.
Willow gasped into his mouth, her body cleaving to his to gain as much
penetration as possible.
He slowly withdrew his fingers, teasing her clit then tracing her wet folds.
Her own hands found his cock, eager to inflict their own torturous pleasure.
  His lips halted briefly against her own, then kissed more intently as she
slid her hand over him.  He was longer and wider than Oz, and she wanted him
inside her.
Now.
"Spike," she pleaded as he paused for her breath.
He drew his thigh between hers, strong and slightly cool against the heat of
her skin.  The slight friction against her drew a moan, and then he raised
himself slightly, positioning the head of his cock at her entrance.
Their eyes were locked briefly, and then Willow closed hers as Spike slowly,
deeply thrust inside her.  Her head fell back against the pillows, and she
wrapped her legs about his waist to draw him further inside.
He paused momentarily, deep within her, and then he withdrew to push even
more fully in.  Slowly they built their rhythm together, her legs locked
about him and his cock driving deeply inside her.
Spike's hand reached between them to caress her again, and Willow felt
herself almost, almost there.
"Let go," she whispered roughly, her voice faint.
He stilled for a bare moment, and then the tension eased in his shoulders.
She looked into the golden eyes without fear, kissing the ridges on his
forehead hard as he dropped his head.
His fingers retouched her clit, and Willow dug her nails into his back as
she moved against him.  At the bite of her nails, the fangs he touched to
her skin bit sharply into her breast, and she felt herself lifted to a whole
other level, her muscles squeezing his cock inside her.  Spike pushed inside
her, shouting harshly and then collapsing against her, his mouth eagerly
drinking the sudden swell of blood.
Her hand weakly found his head again, holding him to her as she relaxed
totally into the bed, feeling the coolness of his seed deep inside her.
Willow felt his face change back, and he lapped gently once more before
rolling off her and gathering her into his arms.
"Shoulda appreciated you long ago, pet," he whispered roughly.

~

As her breathing returned to normal, Spike's hand began to trace the curves
of her body again.  Willow was surprised, but she definitely wasn't
protesting.  For someone so satisfied a moment ago, she became unsatisfied
and greedy pretty darn fast.
Of course, there was ample evidence that she wasn't the only greedy one in
the room.
Spike was kissing her shoulder and teasing a nipple when suddenly his hand
stopped, and he pulled away from her.
Fear flashed onto Willow's face.
"But - "
He shook his head and laid a finger against her lips.
"Shh."
Her mouth trembled against his touch.  It was so unfair.
He looked steadily into her eyes a moment.
"I love you."
She blinked, then her eyes widened.  She lay there a moment, stunned, and
then smiled at him, her lips finding his for a passionate kiss.  He kissed
back, then paused for her to breathe.
"And .?" he murmured, his hand sliding between her legs.
"And I think you should appreciate me again," she replied teasingly, running
her hands over his chest.
"Because .?"
"Because I love you back."
Spike kissed her, hard.
"Works for me."

~

Willow returned from the three weeks in Georgia relaxed and most definitely
appreciated.  They had spent their days mostly in bed, and their evenings
out, at least until they rushed home to bed.  Spike looked delicious in his
evening wear ... a bathing suit ... and most especially in nothing at all.
She was in heaven.
They showed up at Giles' regrouping session separately, only just managing
not to touch each other ... quite yet.  Buffy was showing off her new
wardrobe before patrol, and Anya was complaining about a man in a rabbit
suit who had been at a store across from their hotel.  Willow was restless,
wanting the meeting to be over, wanting to take Spike home to her wonderful
empty house, to all the different rooms and ...
He met her eyes with an intense gaze, his tongue licking slowly,
suggestively over his lips.  She licked her own subconsciously, remembering
his taste.
Buffy was itching to get back on patrol, and when she jumped up to signal
the end of the meeting, Willow rose almost as quickly, hurrying for the
door.  Spike ambled behind her, a sly smile on his face.  As Buffy headed in
the opposite direction, he called out to her.
"Hey Buff?"
"Spike?"
"You look superb in lavender.  Really."
Buffy gave him a weirded-out look, then waved at Willow as she took off.  As
she disappeared round the corner, Spike drew Willow against him, his mouth
dropping to her throat.
"You know, we should probably tell her," Willow murmured, savoring the feel
of Spike's lips on her neck, the possibility of his fangs lightly brushing
her skin.
"Let me appreciate you before I get staked, Will.  We'll tell her next week.
  Or next month."
"Christmas," she whispered back as his hand slid beneath her skirt.
"Easter," he suggested, his mouth moving to her own.
She smiled as she kissed him.  It would be a long, long while before she was
appreciated enough.
She'd never been stupid.

THE END

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