Good Intentions

Author: Aileen E.

Pairings: The main pairing is Spike/Willow (I know, color you surprised!) But, eventually, some instances of each of the following: Xander/Tara, Xander/Spike, Tara/Giles, Willow/Tara, and I may throw in some Willow/Xander just for the hell of it! *g*

Genre: Dark/Drama/Angst/Smut (but, hey!, there is a plot!)

Setting: Very AU but set sometime during season six, I guess. Spike is chipped, Willow is with Tara, and Spike is not with Buffy, (because in my universe Spike was NEVER with Buffy and I don’t care what Joss says!)

Summary: Willow wants to do something nice for Spike and she casts a spell, but not everything goes as planned.

Archive: At my pathetic, little website, Blood and Fire. Anyone else – you mean you really want this stuff?! Of course you can have it! Just let me know where it’s going first :)

Disclaimer: If you think I created or own any of these character, then I suggest you step away from your computer and seek help immediately!

Feedback: Eagerly anticipated and received with much squealing and hand clapping! Praise as well as constructive criticism. Send it my way at: aileene@sbcglobal.net

Author’s Notes: 1) This is an example of what happens when my muse goes on vacation and her evil twin takes over! The original idea for the story came from a challenge issued by Dark Magick. This was supposed to be a romantic, light-hearted story, but somewhere along the way, my mind took a wrong turn! 2) The lyrics at the beginning of the story are from a song titled “Good Intentions” written by Lynn M. Rosenthal. However, neither the story nor its title were inspired by the song. I already had the first two chapters written and had decided on the title when I ran across the lyrics for this song online. They fit so perfectly, I couldn’t help myself! 3) As usual, not beta’d *sigh* I know, I know ... I just hate asking people to do things for me! :( So, if you see any glaring errors, don’t hesitate to point them out to me.

Warning: More than likely, this fic will eventually contain some or all of the following elements: Male slash, female slash, torture, non-consensual sex, S&M, B&D, violence, blood-play, characters’ death, and a ‘not so nice’ Spike. If any of these things creep you out, you may want to pass this one up. Also, this is my first attempt at writing something like this, (smut goddess I am not, hehe), as well as at publishing a story in parts, as I write it. (Usually, I don’t post any parts until the fic is complete, but this one is getting very long and it may be weeks before I finish it). What this all means is that there is a possibility that I might screw this up, so read at your own risk. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 

“It started out so simply
I just wanted to talk to you
Straighten out some of those crooked turns we took
And smooth the gravel on the road

But what started out as such a good idea
Took a tragic turn for the worse
And somewhere in between what I wanted and what went down
We spilled the gasoline and lit the match
This highway to Heaven that I'd been travelin' on with you
Well, now it leads to Hell instead

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
It's an old saying, but no less true
Yeah, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions
And right now I'm on that road with you.”

~~~*~~~
 
 

~Part: 1~

Spike tried to lift his head and grimaced, slamming it back down against the hard concrete floor.

“Bloody Hell!”

He rolled over, pushing a couple of empty bottles out of the way with his boot. Looking around, he realized he was in his crypt – he must have instinctively found his way home and crawled in sometime during the night, before passing out.

The alcohol he had consumed was almost out of his system now, but he was still having trouble getting his bearings. He crawled up to his knees and that’s when he froze in mid-stance. Something had awoken him, something that was in his crypt. His senses came to full awareness and a growl rumbled in his throat making the message clear – whatever vermin had crawled in while he was sleeping, better crawl back out before he got to his feet. After the previous night’s binge, the most recent one of many in a row, he was in no mood to play nice.

*Oh well, too late!* Jumping to his feet he roared, slipping into game face, and swung around intent on tearing apart whatever it was that had disturbed his blessed oblivion. A high pitch shrill pierced through his eardrums and he stumbled back, away from the woman standing in front of him, screaming bloody murder.

“Bloody hell, woman, shut the fuck up!” Spike winced and covered his ears.

The red-head pressed her hand tightly against her chest. “Goddess Spike, you almost gave me a heart attack! Are you always like this in the morning?!”

Spike glared at her. “Only when some chit comes sneaking into my crypt and wakes me up! What the bloody hell are you doing here anyway?”

Spike’s eyes traveled the length of the woman. Her face was clean, with a minimum of make-up, and her hair hung loose on her shoulders. She wore a blue and green peasant blouse and a matching, flowing skirt, with little sparkles all over the fabric. He liked the skirt.

*Hum, easy access.* He unconsciously raised his left eyebrow and grinned.

“It’s not funny, Spike! I came here to give you something, and ... and ...I had this speech ... all rehearsed and everything ... and I knew exactly what I was gonna say ... and now, with all the growling and stuff ... I forgot it!”

Spike’s grin widened as he sauntered toward her. “No worries, Pet, we can just skip the speech and get right to my ‘preezie.’”

Before Willow could anticipate his intention, Spike had snaked a hand around her waist and was pulling her closer to him.

She smacked his hand away.

“Spike! I do have a present for you, but it’s not THAT kind of a present!”

He enjoyed watching the color rise to her cheeks and her wide eyes dart around nervously, avoiding his face. He chuckled and felt around the pockets of his duster for a pack of cigarettes.

“Red, you’re too easy.”

“Wha ... what?”

Willow groaned when he wriggled his eyebrows and gave her a mischievous grin.

“Spike, you’re insufferable!”

He shrugged. “So, where is my bloody present?” As he lit the cigarette, he eyed the paper bag Willow held in her hand. He hoped it was a carton of smokes, he was running low on those.

Willow walked over to place the bag on top of the sarcophagus in the middle of the room. Spike stood behind her, looking over her shoulder as she opened the bag and pulled something out. Willow swung around and smiled as she thrust a small green sphere at him.

Spike took the glass globe in his hand and turned it around, inspecting it. “Gee, thanks Red, I’m touched. I always wanted a ... a ... green ball. Can’t wait to show it to my friends!” he commented, still turning the globe in his hand and frowning at it.

“It’s an Orb of Chishleen!” She exclaimed with a wide smile, as if that was supposed to mean something to him.

“U-hu ... Well, luv, thanks for the Ball of Sheesheen – the sun is almost up and if you don’t mind, I would like to get some more sleep.” Spike was distractedly tossing the orb in the air and catching it as he talked.

Willow’s eyes grew wide with dread. “Don’t do that! It’s an Orb of Chishleen, not Sheesheen, and it’s very fragile – and rare, almost impossible to find. It took me weeks to find that one and I had to convince a very cranky and greedy shopkeeper to sell it to me!”

Spike stopped bouncing the orb and looked deep into the witch’s eyes. His expression was pensive and disbelieving, his voice barely above a whisper. “You went through all that trouble to get a present for me? Why?”

“Because ... because ...” Willow rolled her eyes. “See? This is what the speech was for!”

Willow tried to hoist herself atop the sarcophagus and almost fell when her leg didn’t quite reach. Spike caught her with one arm and lifted her, sitting her down on the lid with her legs dangling over the edge. He stood in front of her, still puffing on his cigarette, waiting for an explanation. Willow took the orb from his hands, probably to ensure its safety, and inhaled deeply.

“Spike, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot at the beginning, and I know we haven’t always seen things ... eye to eye. But I feel you’ve come a long way, and you have done a lot for us – all of us.”

She paused.

Spike’s face was impassive while he wondered where she was leading, suspecting that she probably wanted something from him and the gift was just her way to assuage her guilt over asking.

Willow fidgeted a little and cleared her throat before continuing.

“Ok, so you tried to kill me ... several times...” Willow involuntarily shivered at the memory. “But you’ve saved my life more times than I can count. You’ve helped with research and patrolling – and not killing any of us, pssst, major extra points for that one!”

Spike’s eyes bore into her. “It’s not like I had a bloody choice. I have a chip in me head, remember? I can’t hunt, and I can’t hurt any of you even if I wanted to, and believe me Red, there’ve been times when I wanted to!”

Willow shook her head and a half-smile curled her lips. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “You and I both know there’s more to it than that. You didn’t have to bring flowers when Joyce died, you didn’t have to let Glory torture you to protect Dawn, you didn’t have to watch over Dawn and the rest of us after Buffy died. Those things had nothing to do with your ‘bloody chip.’ ” Willow concluded the last sentence with an imitation of Spike’s speech.

Spike nodded his head, impressed that the little witch had been on to him all along, when none of the others seemed to have figured it out – or maybe they just didn’t care.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” she added with a wink.

Spike smiled and then had to chuckle. He had always known that she was smart, what he had not realized was that she was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. He also knew that if any of the Scoobies was ever going to acknowledge his assistance and thank him for it, it would be Willow.

“Ok, so you found me out! I’m a big softy. Now, give me my ball and bugger off!” His tone was gruff, but his eyes twinkled with admiration.

Willow rolled her eyes and whispered a few words Spike couldn’t understand.

“The Orb is not the gift, Spike. What it does is the gift. Chishleen grants a wish to the possessor of the orb .”

Spike looked at the orb, curiosity dancing in his eyes. He wondered if this Chishleen would grant him a night of passionate sex with a beautiful woman, it had been weeks since he’d had a woman. The thought occurred to him that maybe he could turn the cards on Red and use the orb to get the witch to sleep with him. He had always found the little witch attractive, and to be honest with himself, he had to admit that he had spent hours thinking about what it would be like to shag the woman.

“What kind of wish?” he asked.

“Well ... do you remember the Gem of Amara?”

Spike’s eyes shot up to Willow’s face, all humor drained from his face as understanding started to set in.

“Now, don’t get too excited – the orb is only good for one time, that’s it. My gift to you, Spike, is one day in the sunlight. You get one day to walk in daylight – go anywhere you want, do whatever you want to do.”

Spike looked at Willow’s smiling, expectant face. He didn’t know what to say, how to react. He had only seen daylight once in one-hundred and twenty-years, and that time he had wasted the opportunity trying to kill the slayer. Many times since then, he had sworn that if he ever got the chance to walk in the daylight again, he would do things differently.

He knew humans took daylight and the freedom to move about in the day for granted. But not him, he knew what living in unyielding, perpetual darkness was like. For years after he was turned, he had struggled to retain the memories of his youth – the colors, the feeling of warmth on his skin, the dances of light on surfaces that only a ray of sunlight could produce. But the memories had faded with time into shades of greys and blues, outlined by ever-present shadows. To walk in the sunlight again after a century had only made him want those things even more, made him want to make new memories, all in bright and vivid colors. For him, the ring had meant more than a means to kill the slayer – it had been freedom from his prison of darkness.

He had never told this to anyone, and he wondered how Willow knew. How was it that this girl could look inside of him and read his heart’s desires? He frowned, *It must be a witch thing, I should be more careful about what I think when I’m around her!*

Willow’s face fell at his frown. “What’s the matter? You don’t like my gift?! I could have gotten you a pint of blood, but that’s not really special – unusual, but not special. I wanted the gift to be special – I thought you would like this!”

Spike’s frown deepened as another thought crossed his mind. He knew that Willow, as powerful as she was, didn’t have the best track-record for accuracy as a witch – he didn’t want his day in the sun to be his last on the planet!

“It’s a great gift, Red! There’s just some things I need to know first. Like, how does this work?”

“Oh ... it’s a simple spell, sort of. I will invoke Chishleen, who keeps the balance between light and darkness, and ask her to grant you safe passage into the daylight.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, not convinced that the witch was telling him everything there was to it.

“That’s it, then? We say ‘pretty please’ and a vampire walks in the daylight?”

Willow’s eyes shifted uncomfortably and her voice cracked. “Yeah, pretty much ... there are words, and chanting, and stuff, of course.”

“No blood sacrifices, no unleashing of demons?”

Willow shook her head vehemently. “Nope. No blood spillage, and no ‘demoney’ involvement of any kind.”

For the next few minutes, Spike’s eyes shifted between the orb Willow held in her hand and her face, torn between his hope that what she offered was really possible and his misgivings about the situation. He wondered why, if this orb of Chishleen could allow a vampire to walk in the daylight, he had never heard of it, and how it was that vampires weren’t lining up to get one! He voiced his doubts.

Willow seemed to consider his question for a moment. “I don’t know, maybe because the orb would be useless to a vampire, since a dark being cannot summon Chishleen. And it is unusual for a human to summon Chishleen in behalf of a vampire.”

“U-hu, so this Chishleen is a good goddess then, since it can’t be summoned by someone who is evil.”

Willow frowned. “She is more like a neutral deity ...” She seemed suddenly annoyed with Spike’s questions. “Trust me Spike, I know what I’m doing. Do you want me to summon her for you or not?!”

Every instinct told Spike that something was not right about this, but the enticing promise of possibilities that Willow’s gift held won out in the end. He moved closer to Willow, until his thighs were pressed against her knees.

“Fine, I have only one condition”

Willow cringed and swallowed hard under his intense glare.

“What’s that?”

“You’re spending the day with me, you’re not leaving my side – if anything goes wrong and I happen to suddenly burst into flames, I’m taking you with me!”

Willow nodded nervously. “I can do that, nothing is going to go wrong ... I’m sure. Just trust me.”

“So, when do you want to do this?” Spike asked.

“Today is fine with me, I don’t have anything planned!”

“Fine, Witch, work your mojo.”

~Part: 2~

After carefully drawing a circle, Willow burned several herbs and whispered a prayer in order to consecrate it for protection. When she concluded the preparations, she instructed Spike to step inside the protective circle with her. She held the orb in front of her with both hands.

“Spike, wrap your hands around mine.”

He did so hesitantly. Willow started chanting and a soft, green light emanated from the sphere, enveloping both their bodies. The light turned to mist, and Willow’s soft, melodic words reached his ears, carried in the mist that crawled on his skin like a tangible entity.

“Chishsleen, Emmor, Twilight
Maiden of Shadows, Goddess of Tides
Sun and Moon, Day and Night
shifting, blending, forces and binds.”

“Uh, Willow, it’s getting kind of weird in here, luv – I can barely see you.”

Willow ignored Spike’s tentative complaint and continued to recite the incantation.

“As we venture into the Spheres of the Wards
We seek protection from thy hand.”

The mist grew thicker, more solid, and so bright it was blinding.

“Red, are you sure this is right?”

Willow continued to chant, not allowing his interruptions to distract her from her task.

“Darkness to light
drifting sands
hear my summon
form to shards!”

Willow suddenly pulled her hands back, pushing Spike’s hands with hers and allowing the orb to fall to the ground and shatter. The mist quickly dissipated, sucked into the ground as into a vacuum.

Spike looked at Willow with an expression that was half disappointment, half relief.

“It didn’t work, Pet, and you broke the orb.” He shrugged. “What is it that you people say, it’s the thought that counts?”

Willow bent down and picked something up from amongst the shards of the orb. She held up a silver chain with a bluish-silver colored pendant at the end, the image of a quarter moon and three teardrops emblazoned on it.

Willow smiled smugly as she dangled the pendant in front of Spike.

“O ye’ of little faith!”

She reverently slipped the chain and the pendant around the vampire’s neck.

“I’m not wearing that thing, it makes me look like a poof!” he bristled.

Willow suspected that the true reason that Spike didn’t want to wear the pendant was his inherent mistrust of magic. She just laughed, too heady with the excitement of her success to take offense at his protests.

“Just tuck in under your shirt, no one has to see it, you just have to wear it for protection from the sun.”

When he didn’t move, she grabbed the pendant and dropped it inside the neck of his t-shirt. “Oh, and Spike ... you may want to loose the duster. I know it makes you look all lean, and predatory, and sexy as hell at night ... but it may be a little too much for daytime.”

She turned and walked to the door, silently giggling at the look of surprise on Spike’s face at her mocking tone. But when Willow walked to the crypt’s door and threw it open, his expression changed to one of apprehension.

“Well, are you coming?”

He removed his duster, slipping his cigarettes into his pants’ pocket, and laid it inside the sarcophagus. Slowly, he approached the doorway and peered outside. The sun was just beginning to rise, its light advancing, illuminating the tombstones and dispelling the shadows. It was still dim enough that if it started to burn, he could quickly duck back inside. A few more steps and he was standing just outside the door, next to Willow.

When she started to walk, he took her hand and held her next to him. “We are not going anywhere until I’m sure this worked.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but did not try to move away. Spike watched the edge of the dawn approach, the light advancing like a wave towards him. It was only a few feet away from him now – in a few seconds, he would either be bathed in sunlight or turned to dust.

The brilliant light washed over him, covered him like a blanket, and he closed his eyes and lifted his face toward the sun. The warmth touched his skin and the light bathed his body. Throwing his head back, he slightly opened his mouth and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, as if he could actually taste the sunlight. After a few moments, when the danger of him bursting into flames was past, he looked down at Willow. The woman was gaping at him.

“What?” he asked defensively.

Willow had trouble finding the words to describe what she had just witnessed. “Goddess ... that was beautiful ... you looked ... almost human,” she whispered with awe in her voice.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I was, you know?”

“Was what?”

“Human, a long time ago.”

“Oh, yeah.” Willow seemed to consider his statement for a moment, trying to envision a human Spike, before returning to her enthusiastic self.

“Well, Spike, it’s your day! Where to first?”

He smiled and started walking with a sure stride, his footsteps leading out of the graveyard. Willow followed behind Spike, struggling to keep up with his brisk pace. The reservations she had felt earlier about the spell had quickly dissipated. She had not wanted to alarm Spike, since she knew how wary he was of magic, but the true reason why Chishleen was so seldom summoned was because of her propensity to play tricks on those who did, granting passage into the realms of Light and Darkness, but usually with a twist. But this time everything had worked according to her plans. Spike was walking in the daylight and apparently enjoying every second of it. The witch could not help silently congratulating herself. She couldn’t wait until the day was over and she could tell Tara what she had done. She knew her fellow witch would have never dared to cast a spell as powerful as this, but once it was done, she would be excited about it and she would approve of her motives.

Before long, the couple reached the park and slowed their pace. They strolled around the grounds for some time before sitting on a bench. Occasionally, one or the other would offer a casual comment, but mostly they simply enjoyed the beauty of the morning. It was a week-day and the park was deserted, most citizens probably at work or school.

After a while, they stood up and continued to stroll in silence for a while. Willow was enjoying the bright and calm atmosphere of the place. Unexpectedly, Spike took hold of her hand and nearly dragged her to a giant water fountain that sat in the middle of the park.

“What is it, Spike?” Willow asked, alarmed at his haste.

“I just want to see something, to see if it is as I remember it.”

He sat on the edge of the fountain looking intently inside. Willow peered over his shoulder into the calm water but saw nothing but the ripples caused by the cascading stream of the fountain and some spare change laying at the bottom.

“Lean closer, place your face directly above the water.”

Willow complied and understanding dawned as she stared at her reflection. The image was distorted by the gentle swaying of the water and as the sunlight hit each ripple an explosion of light and color seemed to burst over her image, causing it to sparkle and iridesce. Spike ran the tip of his fingers gently through the water and the reflection violently chattered, only to come together again as the surface calmed and the steady ripples returned.

Spike’s voice was low and forlorn. “You can’t get an effect like that with any other source of light, not even candle light. When I was a child, there was a creek behind my house. I used to spend hours there, watching the light dance on the water, trying to find the right words to describe the effect and capture its magic into a poem. I never did write the poem.”

Willow dipped her finger into the water, watching the light’s shifting patterns as she swirled the surface. She noticed the empty space next to her reflection, where Spike’s should have been, and wondered if he longed to see his own reflection. Willow was not a vain woman, but she couldn’t imagine going through life without knowing how she looked on any given day. Things like how would she know if she had something between her teeth or if her hair looked funny suddenly became an imperative dilemma.

She was about to ask Spike how he dealt with his lack of reflection when she noticed that the vampire had lost interest in their conversation and was instead intently watching something across the park. A young man was crossing the park at a brisk pace, probably using it as a shortcut to the other side of town. Spike’s eyes followed the moving figure until it disappeared behind some bushes. At one point, the two men’s eyes met and there was a flicker of recognition in both.

“Spike, is there something wrong?”

Spike seemed startled by Willow’s question.

“No. I just thought I saw someone I know, but it must have been someone who looked like him.”

Willow frowned, looking at the spot where the man had disappeared.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that the park is deserted in the middle of the day. It looks like we have the place all to ourselves,” Spike inquired.

Willow shrugged. “Not really. It’s a week-day, Spike. Most humans are normally at their jobs or at school during the day. Why do you ask?”

The vampire shrugged and rose to his feet, dismissing the issue.

“I want to go to Willie’s,” he announced.

Willow frowned. “Spike, you go to Willie’s all the time. I mean, it’s your day and you can do anything you want. But, shouldn’t we be doing outdoor things? Things that you normally wouldn’t do at night?”

Spike grinned mischievously. “I’m doing something I can’t do at night. I’m going to Willie’s and I’m gonna watch the other vampires’ faces as I walk in through the front door, sunlight shining on my back! And then, I’ll just walk right back out into the daylight! Them wankers are going to choke on their pig’s blood!”

Willow jumped to her feet and smiled brightly at him. She knew that the past few months had been hard for Spike and she suspected that the other vampires were not treating him any better than the Scoobies, on account of him being chipped. The idea of showing off his ability to walk in the sunlight, even if it was only for one day, in front of the other vampires seemed reasonable and like harmless fun.

“Lead the way!” she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Half-way to the bar, Willow came to a stop in front of an abandoned building. The vampire next to her glanced between the building and the woman. Willow frowned and peered inside through the dirt covered front window.

“Come on Will’, it’s only a couple more blocks.”

When the woman only continued to frown at the building, Spike’s expression grew serious.

“What’s wrong?”

Willow shook her head, thinking that she had probably been distracted the last few weeks with final exams and Tara, and had not noticed when the little café had gone out of business. Although, she could have sworn that she had been there for coffee only a couple of days earlier.

“It’s nothing. This used to be a coffee shop. It was Tara’s and mine favorite place to go for coffee in the afternoons and I didn’t know it had closed down.”

Spike looked around the nearly deserted street.

“Will’, do you notice anything else different. Anything that has changed since the last time you were here?”

Willow carefully studied her surroundings, taking notice of the people and buildings around her. The differences were subtle, but a few things were definitely not quite as they should be. Even for a week-day, the streets were uncommonly empty. Even if most inhabitants of the town were at work, people still ran errands. It was nearly noon and the small restaurants should have been filling up with workers breaking for lunch.

The few people who walked the streets did so hurriedly and with determined steps, as if in a desperate rush to reach their destination. Furthermore, they seemed to be purposely avoiding her and Spike. Everyone seemed to walk on the opposite side of the street from them, occasionally glancing furtively in their direction.

“Spike, do you notice that people are acting ... well ... strange? Kind of ... like avoiding us and staring at us, like they are afraid or something?”

The vampire watched a woman cross the road away from them.

“Maybe they think it’s odd, seeing a vampire walking in the daylight. It is odd, you know.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know you are a vampire ... unless, they know you. Have you seen anyone who looks familiar?”

Spike took a second look and shook his head. “Nope. Except for ...”

When he didn’t continue, Willow raised worried eyes to him.

“Who?”

Spike clenched his jaw and his eyes bore intently into Willow’s.

“Do you notice anything else, beside the people?”

Willow’s stomach began to tighten at the intensity of his tone. She had the nagging suspicion that something was definitely not right, and she suspected that Spike felt the same way. She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat.

“The buildings. There are a lot of closed down businesses that I’m sure were open last week. And the ones that are open are ... well ... not right.”

She glanced at the front of several establishments that featured an inordinate amount of leather items, predominantly whips, along with other paraphernalia that was not usually displayed in storefronts on the main street in Sunnydale.

Without a word, Spike took hold of her hand and started to march down the road; Willow had to run to keep up with him. Her heart was pounding and her breath ragged by the time they arrived at Willie’s. The bar looked the same from the outside except that the windows were not blacked out to filter the sunlight, as they should have been. Several patrons exited the bar, walking down the street as they talked animatedly and laughed. None of them gave Spike or her a second glance.

“Spike, those weren’t ... were they?”

Spike squeezed her hand painfully as he ground out, “Yes, they are.”

Willow trembled. “Oh Goddess, what did I do? It was the spell, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t see what else it could be. It seems that my gift isn’t so unique after all. Apparently, all vampires can now walk in the daylight.” His tone was flat but pensive, and Willow felt that he knew more than he was saying.

She slipped her had from his and leaned against the wall, sliding down to sit on the ground, not wanting to go into the bar, afraid of what they would find there. Her heart was beating erratically and she knew it wasn’t from the exertion of their walk. An idea suddenly came to her mind and she looked up at Spike hopefully.

“The spell is only good for one day! By tomorrow, all the vampires will be back to normal! We just have to find Buffy and have her do some patrolling until then.”She frowned, not looking forward to telling her friend that she had granted a free pass into daylight to every vampire in Sunnydale, but not knowing what else she could do – the slayer had to know.

Spike shook his head, glancing at the door of the bar. “I don’t think it’s that easy, Wil’. All these changes didn’t happen in just a few hours. It is obvious that vampires have been running this town for a while.”

Willow’s eyes grew wide with confusion.

“What do you think that means?”

“Other than the fact that you buggered up yet another bloody spell?! I don’t know, Red, you’re the witch, you tell me!” he bit out angrily. “Get up!”

Willow obeyed reluctantly. “Where are we going?”

“Inside. I need to find out what’s going on.”

The interior of the bar was uncharacteristically busy for the time of day and several patrons looked up as the pair walked in, their expressions registering surprise. If it was surprise at her presence or at Spike’s, Willow could not tell.

When no one made any move to stop their progress, Spike and Willow walked to the bar. Willie was nervously wiping a glass while he took an order from a rather large, slimy looking demon. Spotting the two newcomers at the bar, he put down the glass and approached them, ignoring the frustrated demon behind him.

“Spike! Long time ... no see! What, what ... brings you to my, my ... humble establishment?” the bartender stammered as he poured what looked like blood into a mug. The man seemed to be ignoring Willow, although she caught him glancing at her questioningly once.

“It hasn’t been that long, Willie.” Spike had been at the bar only the night before.

“Really? It seems ... it seems like a long time. I guess because you have been missed.” The small man tried to smile as he placed the mug in front of Spike, but only managed a semblance of a grimace.

Spike looked pointedly at Willow and the woman sighed as she reached into her purse and withdrew a couple of bills. The man behind the bar seemed confused by their exchange, but quickly recovered and shook his head.

“Oh, no! This one is on the house ... a welcome back present!” He leaned closer to Spike over the bar. “The good stuff,” he added with a wink.

Willow eyed the mug suspiciously as Willie walked away to tend to the increasingly inpatient demon.

“Spike, what did he mean ‘the good stuff’?”

Spike put the mug to his lips and tasted the content experimentally before throwing his head back and draining it in one gulp.

“It’s human blood, and it’s fresh ... very fresh,” he explained, licking his lips and motioning to Willie for a refill.

“Spike! That’s not a good thing! And you couldn’t possibly be asking for more! There’s ... there’s probably a drained body in one of the back rooms ... somewhere ... laying there ... all dead ... while you’re sitting here ... ordering ... drinking ... its blood!” Willow’s voice kept rising in panic as she envisioned the significance of the freshness of the blood.

Spike’s tone was stern but his voice was kept low. “In case you have forgotten, Red, I’m still a vampire and you said this was ‘my day’ and that I was supposed to enjoy myself. That’s exactly what I’m doing ... it’s not my fault that you buggered up the bloody spell and things turned out differently than you expected!” He glanced around the room. “And keep your voice low, you’re drawing attention to yourself!” he added.

Willow looked nervously at the crowd of mostly vampires who were now eyeing her suspiciously. Her thoughts were reeling and she felt nauseous, not because she was watching Spike gleefully consume a second mug of human blood, but because the consequences of her spell and their magnitude were becoming alarmingly clear. In trying to grant Spike passage into daylight, she must have accidently created a world where all vampires walked in the daylight, removing the only protection that humans had against them! The abundance of fresh, human blood could only mean that the vampires were freely and inpunitively using the citizens of Sunnydale as an all you can eat buffet! The room spun around her and Willow felt as if she was going to be physically ill.

“Oh, Goddess, Tara!” She choked the words out as she leaned her head on Spike’s shoulder. “Spike, please. We have to find her!”

The vampire shot her an annoyed look, but his expression softened when he saw the tears starting to pool in her eyes.

“Fine, Red. But stick close to me and whatever happens, let me do the talking. Ok?”

Willow nodded thankfully. They walked out into the bright sunlight, the reality of how changed the town truly was hitting Willow full force this time. She cursed herself twice the fool for not noticing earlier – she had been too caught up in her excitement over the nonexistent success of her spell. Many buildings were gutted or in serious disrepair. The town’s church had been burnt to the ground and the few humans who roamed the streets looked fearful and pale.

“Where are you going?”

Spike’s question halted her.

“To the dorms, that’s where Tara is.”

Spike sighed. “Normally, yes. But I doubt that there’s even a college in this town anymore. Vampires are not big on higher education. If she is still alive, she could be anywhere. Our best bet is to find the slayer or the watcher and have them bring us up to date.”

Willow could not argue with his logic. They were strangers in this strange town, or at least, she was. No one seemed to question Spike’s presence here, and a few of the vampires in the bar had even waved at him cordially as they exited. Their best bet at finding out exactly what was going on was to locate either Buffy or Giles.

“Buffy’s house, then?””

Spike nodded his agreement and they headed in the direction of the slayer’s house.

Willow’s heart sank when they reached the spot where the house should have been and found themselves standing in front of an empty lot. The charred foundation was all that remained of her friend’s home – by the looks of it, the house had burnt to the ground some time before.

Willow’s body trembled as she began to panic. “Oh, Spike! What have I done?!”

The vampire placed a stiff arm around her shoulders.

“This doesn’t mean anything, Will’. She probably abandoned the house because it was too conspicuous. Every vampire for miles around knows where the slayer lives. Let’s go to the Magic Box, that’s probably where everyone would go if there was trouble. Your witch probably has the place sealed tight with all kinds of protection spells.”

Spike’s rationale sounded hollow to Willow’s ears, even if she desperately wanted to believe that he was right. But it was the only glimmer of hope she had and she was not about to surrender to despair – at least, not yet.

Her hopes were dashed when they reached The Magic Box. The sign that had hung above the door was gone and the building now housed an entirely different type of business. Willow stared agape at the display that decorated the large front windows. Pictures of what looked like mutilated bodies were carefully arranged against a black backdrop, along with a multitude of knives and sharp instruments. She stared in disbelief at the macabre display, her mind unable to grasp the gruesome realism of the collage. She felt Spike’s hand grasp her arm and gently pull her away.

“I don’t think you want to go in there, Red.”

Willow shook her head frantically. “We have to, Spike! We have to find out what happened to them. You said that if there was trouble, they would come here. What if they are still in there? What if they need our help?! Where else are we going to look?” .

A couple of passers-by glanced curiously in their direction and Spike pulled Willow into the adjacent alley, where they were concealed from prying eyes.

“Red, listen to me! Maybe we are going at this all wrong. All this happened because of a spell you did, right?”

His words slowly penetrated the jumble in Willow’s mind and she tried to clear her thoughts. She nodded numbly.

“Can’t you just reverse the spell? Set things the way they were before?”

Willow considered his words carefully.

“Maybe.” She pointed at his chest. “The talisman ... around your neck. I think it is what holds the spell in place, I was supposed to destroy it after the day was over. If we destroy the talisman now ... it should reverse the spell ... probably.”

“Probably, maybe, should?! Bloody hell, Will’, you have to be sure about this. If we destroy the talisman and nothing changes then we are stuck here and we will have lost the only link we have to that bitch, Chishleen.”

Spike’s words jolted Willow out of her stupor. She frowned in concentration.

“Stuck here, in this place...”

“Yes, Red, that’s what I said!” His tone was increasingly exasperated.

“Oh, no! Spike, we have to find them! We can’t leave them here!”

Spike raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Leave who? Wouldn’t things just change back to the way they were?”

Willow shook her head emphatically. “I’m starting to think this is something like the vengeance spell that Anya did!”

“Huh?”

“If it is something like that, we didn’t just altered our reality. We ... I ... created an alternate reality that coexists parallel to our own!”

“Red, what the bloody hell are you babbling about?!”

Willow breathed deeply in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves and think coherently. If she was going to come up with a plan, she would need Spike’s help. More importantly, she had to get a grip on her emotions and her thoughts.

“I don’t think we are in Sunnydale ... at least, not *our* Sunnydale. This is a place that is exactly the same as our world, except that here vampires walk freely in the sunlight and thus have the upper hand on humans. While I was doing the spell ... I asked permission to enter the Spheres of the Wards ...”

Willow grappled to make sense of her own thoughts and to recall the exact wording of the spell. “‘Darkness into Light’ ... a place where creatures of darkness walk in the light ... a new ‘sphere,’ ... or dimension ... whatever you want to call it ... was created to my specifications! The exact world I knew, with one exception ... ok ... one *huge* exception. Chishleen, instead of protecting you from the daylight ... created a world where you, and everyone like you, could walk in the daylight, and then put us into that world!”

Spike frowned, started to speak, closed his mouth and frowned again. He finally spoke, albeit tentatively. “So, you’re saying that somewhere, that’s not here, there is another Sunnydale, with the slayer’s house and The Magic Box, and happily oblivious happy meals on legs, and that probably all we have to do is break the talisman to get back there?”

Willow nodded, lowering her head. “The thing is ... just because we leave, it doesn’t mean that this world ceases to exist. This world ... the people in it ... are as real as our world, now ...”

Spike nodded in abject understanding.

“Spike, please try to understand. I have to know! The Tara in this world ... she is exactly the same as my Tara, in our world. I can’t leave knowing that she is here ... in this ... hell ... going through who knows what ... because of me ...” Sobs threatened to choke her and Willow swallowed hard.

“But the spell is good for only one day, right? That means that at sundown, talisman or no talisman, we are going to be zapped back into our reality ... like Cinde-bloody-rella ... right?”

Willow nodded hesitantly. “In theory ... yes.”

“What is that supposed to mean – “in theory?” Spike’s jaw was clenched and Willow lowered her eyes apologetically.

“Well ... I’m not sure ... but, it could be ... it’s likely ... that ...”

“Bloody hell, Red, spill it before I choke it out of you!” Spike ground out.

“Well, the spell lasts only for one day in our Sunnydale ... but this is a different dimension all together...”

Understanding dawned in Spike’s eyes. “So a day in our world could be a week, or a year, or any amount of time in this dimension. Which means we could be whisked away at any moment, or we could spend the next century here ... the only sure way back is the talisman, hopefully.”

Willow nodded meekly, still afraid to look at the vampire’s face.

“Bugger all, Willow, you really did it this time!”

Retrieving a pack of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket, Spike leaned back against the wall of the alley. Willow shifted uncomfortably as the vampire studied her through a haze of smoke. After a few moments, Spike pushed away from the wall and approached her.

“Fine. I’ll try to help you find your witch and the others as long as we are here, but there will be some rules. You let me do the talking. Whatever you see, don’t interfere. You don’t question me in front of others, and you do what I say. Is that clear? If you don’t, I’ll break the talisman and it’s bye, bye witch. Agree?”

Willow nodded in defeat, wondering at which point, exactly, had she lost all control of the situation. Now, she was left with no choice but to trust Spike with her life – an unsettling proposition.

~Part: 3~

Willow watched impatiently as Spike finished smoking his cigarette and crushed it beneath the sole of his boot.

"You're right, Red. This is the best place to start looking for Tara and the others. If nothing else, we could get some information." He pointed toward the building behind them, which used to be The Magic Box.

When he made no move to walk to the entrance, Willow frowned.

"Spike, what aren't you telling me?"

The vampire shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this place, Will."

Willow was annoyed by the vampire's reluctance. In her estimation, if anyone should be feeling apprehensive, it was her. "I don't like the place either, Spike! I think it has to do with the display of entrails and sharp weapons on the window! But, I don't know where else to start looking!"

"It's more than that. This place ... it reeks of blood, fear, pain and death. I don't know what we'll be walking into. I just want you to be sure you want to go through with this, that's all."

A lump formed in the girl's throat and her legs weakened at the other's words, but her resolve did not falter.

"I'm sure, Spike. Please."

The vampire nodded and led the way to the entrance with Willow following closely behind. He tried the door and found it locked. Locating the doorbell, he pushed the button and waited for the door to open.

An audible gasp escaped Willow's throat, and she rushed forward as the door opened and she caught sight of the man standing just inside the threshold. "Xander!"

Her impetuous outburst was cut short when Spike firmly grasped her upper arm and pulled her back.

"Shut up!" He hissed between clenched teeth.

Willow stumbled back, her confusion escalating when her oldest friend, the man she had known and loved since childhood, merely ignored her presence while greeting Spike with a wide, affable grin.

"Well, I'll be damned, Spike! Didn't! expect to see you again around these parts, at least not for a few decades! Couldn't stay away from good ol' Sunnyhell, could you?"

A warm hug emphasized his welcome and the young man's obvious delight at seeing the newly arrived vampire. Willow trembled at the glazed expression in her friend's eyes and the icy tone of his voice, despite his cheerful demeanor. She now knew that the dark haired man standing so close to her was no longer the same friend she had known. That person was dead and she was staring into the eyes of the demon that now inhabited his body. The thought that the same fate might very well have befallen the rest of her circle of friends was more than she could endure at the moment, and she leaned against Spike's arm for support.

"I got homesick, I guess. It's good to see you too, mate."

The blond vampire's tone was unaffected by the unexpected nature of their discovery and Willow wished she possessed even a modicum of the vampire's obvious composure under pressure, for at the moment, she felt as if she was close to swooning.

"Come in, come in." Xander waved them inside and Spike stepped into the store with Willow numbly following behind.

The interior of the establishment did nothing to assuage Willow's sense of apprehension and surprise. While structurally the place was the same, the decor was drastically changed. Gone were the shelves filled with books and displays of magic supplies, replaced with what Willow could only describe as every implement of torture imaginable to man, and several that she was certain had not been conceived by a human mind.

She kept her eyes downcast, not wanting to look too close at what other horrors might be displayed inside the store. Clutching Spike's shirt for support, she blindly followed him while he strolled through the store,casually checking out the merchandise.

"So how is business? I imagine there's a high demand for your toys around here."

She glanced upward to see Xander gleefully rub the palms of his hands together, an evil grin twisting his once handsome features. "Best damned idea I ever had, this store! I've made a bundle!"

Xander slowly approached Spike, his dark eyes narrowing languorously. "And I have you to thank for delivering me from a life of mediocrity, Sire. I even bought something, thinking of you, knowing you would be back."

His lips descended on Spike's and he kissed the other vampire deeply, his hand coming to rest on the pale, slim neck. Without hesitation, Spike returned the kiss, his arm snaking around the other's waist and pulling him closer, until their bodies were flush against each other, and Willow heard a low moan escape Xander's throat.

The realization that, in this world, it was Spike who had turned her friend into a monster, was too much for Willow. Unable to contain the bile quickly rising into her throat, she released her hold on Spike's shirt, and ran outside and around the back of the building. Dropping to her knees in the filthy alley, she retched until the entire contents of her stomach were spilt onto the ground.

Never, in her wildest, darkest fantasies could Willow have envisioned a spell going so horribly wrong. Her best friend's house was burnt to the ground and her whereabouts unknown; her childhood friend was now a vampire who didn't even acknowledged her presence; her girlfriend might be dead or worse; Spike was apparently Xander's sire, and Goddess only knew how many people, acquaintances as well as strangers, she had condemned to death, or a life of horror and pain.

Rising to her feet and wiping her mouth, Willow stumbled on shaky legs to the front of the store and leaned against the wall, staring up at the sky. It was a beautiful day - the sky was clear, the sun shone high in the sky and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby decorative bushes. The calm scenery was a stark contrast to the storm raging inside her. She stared up at the distant trees, seeking to loose herself in the natural beauty, and forget the horrors that surrounded her, but her thoughts inevitably kept shifting back to her friends and their uncertain fates.

"Let's go!" Spike's brusque command pulled Willow from her silent reverie, and she saw that Spike had exited the store and was already making his way down the street, following close to Xander. With a few long strides, Willow caught up with the two men.

"Did you find out anything?" She whispered close to Spike's ear, hoping that Xander, who was walking ahead, could not hear her.

"Not yet. It seems that droopy boy has a preezie for his sire and can't wait to give it to me!"

Spike accentuated his words with a twisted grin and a rise of his eyebrow, but Willow failed to see the humor in the situation. Instead, it worried her that Spike was taking this sudden turn of events so lightly - but her opportunity for further inquiry was past. They had reached a car parked at the end of the street and Xander was climbing into the driver's seat.

Willow hesitated, unsure about the wisdom of getting into a car with the vampire Xander. Spike mus t have seen her hesitation, because he opened the back door and unceremoniously pushed Willow inside, slamming the door shut behind her and climbing into the front seat next to Xander.

>From the back seat, Willow listened inconspicuously to the conversation between the two vampires, while pretending to look out the window. Xander carried on about his business, talked about how excited he was to see Spike again, and updated his sire on the latest news amongst the vampire population of the town; who had departed, who was newly arrived and who had recently turned to dust. She yearned to hear something, anything, about one of her friends, but the conversation never turned in that direction, and Spike seemed perfectly content to let the other continue his inconsequential chatter, making no attempt to obtain any relevant information from him.

By the time the car pulled into the entrance of the Crawford St. mansion, Willow was frustrated and angry. She understood the concept of discretion, but it increasingly seemed to her that Spike wasn't as forcefully trying to obtaining information as he could have been. Instead, he seemed content to play his role as Xander's sire and friend. When he opened the car door and motioned for her to follow them inside the house, she glanced at him accusingly. She was certain that he had understood the meaning behind her glare, but seemed unfazed by it.

Once inside the mansion, Willow was again taken aback by the changes in decor. The mansion, which had been nearly in ruins the last tim! e she ha d set eyes on it, was now lavishly, if gaudily, decorated with rich burgundy fabrics and massive furnishings.

Xander turned to Spike, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Well, what do you think?"

Spike's eyes traveled over the room before he answered. "It looks like a bloody whorehouse for the undead - I think it's great!" He concluded.

Xander smiled excitedly at the man he thought was his sire. "It's mine! I bought it with the proceeds from the store. And now, it's also yours - our home. Come, let me show you the rest!"

No longer able to stand quietly by as the two vampires casually carried on about interior decoration and business profits, Willow interjected.

"Xander?"

She cringed as the vampire turned his head sharply at her tentative address, and his dark eyes bore into her. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried again.

"Xander ... What happened to Tara? Where is she?"

A malevolent grin twisted Xander's features as he approached the woman.

"Awww, still pining over your lovebird? Would have thought that my sire would have fucked the witch out of your memory by now!"

Willow ignored Spike's warning glare from across the room and continued.

"Please, Xander. I just want to know what happened to her ... At least tell me if she is still alive."

A raucous laugh burst forth from the vampire's chest, and Willow winced at the callousness of the sound.

"Let's just say that the bitch did not fare as well as you." His eyes raked over her body. "Which, now that I think of it, it's rather interesting. When my sire dragged you out of this town a year ago, you were barely alive! Frankly, I thought you would be dead by now, the way he kept going at you!"

A malicious smile crept across his lips as he enunciated each word for emphasis. Willow blanched at the implication of his words, and felt her body grow uncomfortably warm. Apparently, the Spike in this town had found a way to have his chip removed, and had gone after the Scoobies, turning Xander,imprisoning her, and doing who knows what to the others. Also, the significance of the time frame was not lost on the insightful witch. It had only been a few hours since she had performed the spell, but Xander had just mentioned that it had been a year since Spike had left town. She was now certain that time in this dimension progressed at a completely different pace than in her world. By her estimation, it could be another year or two for them before the spell ran its course, and she didn't think she could survive that long! The only way back for them now was destroying the talisman, which was securely fastened around Spike's neck. For a moment, she thought she was going to be sick again. Fortunately, Xander seemed to quickly loose interest in their exchange, and returned his attention to Spike, who was watching them quietly.

Xander flopped down onto one of the plush chairs, and threw his leg over the arm. "Frankly, Spike, I don't know why you keep the little bitch around. Her constant whining depresses me, reminds me of the old me," he commented absently as he picked at the cuticles of his nails.

"My motives are not yours to question," Spike answered icily.

Willow noticed the implied warning in his tone, but Xander was apparently too oblivious or to distracted to catch on. He continued to speak as if he had not heard the other man.

"I mean, look at her! There isn't a mark on her body! Don't tell me my sire has reverted to being love's bitch!" Xander exclaimed in mocked shock, disgust evident in his eyes.

His tone must not have agreed with the older vampire, because he was instantly in front of Xander. The loud crack of Spike's open palm against Xander's face reverberated from the mansion's walls. Willow scrambled to get out of the way as the impact propelled Xander's body from the chair, to land on the floor in front of her. Spike followed him down, his now closed fist connecting with the other's jaw a couple of times.

"You still haven't learned how to keep your bloody trap shut! But here, I don't have to put up with it!"

As Xander attempted to stand up, Spike kicked him hard in the ribs, causing him to collapse back to the ground. Willow watched in horror as Spike kicked Xander's prostrate body repeatedly, until the dark haired vampire was whimpering in pain. Willow vacillated between her urge to interfere, and obeying Spike's instructions.

"Do you still think I'm love's bitch?!" Xander shook his head without looking up, and Spike seemed satisfied. He stepped away from the other's body and grabbed Willow by the arm.

"We are going upstairs, wait here for me."

Willow allowed Spike to guide her toward the stairs. When she looked behind her to reassure herself that Xander was alright, her eyes met with his venom filled glare.

~~~*~~~

Spike strode up the stairs with Willow next to him. He was familiar with the layout of the house and he wanted a room that was as isolated from the others as possible. When they had first arrived, he had picked up two familiar scents, so faint that he had not been able to tell if the two people were still in the house, or if what he was scenting was just a residue. But he was now certain that both Tara and the watcher were somewhere in the mansion. This wasn't good news for Willow, especially not after Xander's comment about how the witch's friend had fared.

Finding out that the boy was a vampire had certainly been surprising, but not as much as discovering that Spike himself had sired him. He couldn't stomach the Xander in his world, and he could not understand what would posses his alternate self to bind himself to the brat for eternity! Spike clenched his fist and grinned. *Other than the satisfaction of being able to beat the hell out of him any time I feel like it,* he thought.

It felt good to have power again. The truth was that Spike didn't mind admitting that he was love's bitch, he had done so in numerous occasions. But the boy's words had been the perfect excuse to do just what he had been wanting to do ever since he had discovered that the Xander in this world was no longer human, and thus fair game.

The rational part of Spike told him that this was not the same Xander who had wasted no opportunity to humiliate him since finding out that the vampire had a chip in his brain that made him unable to retaliate. Also, his alter self in this sphere must have felt some kind of affection for the boy, otherwise, he would not have chosen to turn him. But those facts had lost their meaning the moment Spike's hand had made contact with the boy's face. The rush of power he had felt had been incredible, sweeter because it had been so long denied, and the only reason he had stopped when he did was because Willow had been in the room. Next time, he had no intention of stopping at a few, well placed kicks!

He found the room that he had been searching for and led Willow inside.Before he could utter a word, she was in front of him, a determined expression on her face.

"What is going on?!"

Spike walked past the woman, examining the room. Apparently, Xander had gone all out with his remodeling efforts, decorating every room in the house in the same gaudy motif as the room downstairs.

"I don't know what you mean, Red."

"That whole thing with Xander at the store, and just now, downstairs."

Spike shrugged. "The boy thinks I'm his sire, I'm just playing the part."

"Are you? Just playing the part, I mean." Her tone was unsure. "It's just that ... well ... you play the part very convincingly."

Spike saw no reason to lie to the girl. "That's because I'm enjoying it, Pet. Last night, I was nobody - just a neutered, drunken excuse of a vampire. So, am I enjoying playing the part of the big-bad? Hell, yeah! As I bloody well should. And I plan to keep doing it as long as we are here, so get used to it."

Willow flinched at his response. "Speaking of which ... Xander said something that makes me think that ... well ... we may be here for a while."

"I know. I heard him."

He had found out plenty of interesting information about this world since meeting with Xander. Like the fact that the Spike in this world was not half the pathetic fool that he was. Here, he was respected and feared, or liked, depending on the individual. Either one was the same to him. It was also obvious that his alternate self in this world was not chipped, which could possibly mean that there was a way to have his chip removed. But most enticing had been the discovery that in this world, Willow belonged to him! The more he thought about it, the harder it was for him to come up with reasons as to why he would want to return to his own reality. The only reason he could think of was the woman standing in front of him. This place was as much of a nightmare for her as it was paradise to him. *Unless...* Spike dismissed the thought and turned his attention to the girl, who was still talking to him.

"Although ... that's not all bad ... I mean ... it gives us time ... to find out stuff. Help the others if we can. And if we can't ... you know ... helpthem, we can then use the talisman to get back."

Spike nodded his agreement. "Will, I want you to st! ay in th is room for a while."

The girl's voice rose an octave with panic. "Why?! Where are you going?"

"I'm not leaving the house. I need to speak to Xander alone. Find out what happened to your witch. I didn't sense any other vampires in the house, so you should be safe in here for a couple of hours."

"Oh ... I was thinking ... maybe I could do a simple locating spell. See if I can find Tara."

"No! No more spells unless absolutely necessary."

When Willow looked as if she was going to protest, Spike raised a finger and pointed it at her.

"No!" He repeated emphatically. "Bloody Christ, woman! Have you forgotten already that it was one of your spells that got us into this mess in the first place?! Next one might just turn me into a bloody toad! So, no. And I mean it, Will."

Willow looked properly chastised, and Spike was satisfied that she wouldn't use any magic to try and find the witch, at least for the time being.

"Try to get some rest. If the layout of the house has not changed, there should be a bathroom right next door, if you need to use it. Otherwise, don't leave this room until I come to get you, just in case."

Spike watched as Willow obediently walked to the bed and sat down, folding her hands on her lap, before he turned around and left the room. Had he not been so anxious to return to his previous task of kicking Xander around, he would have noticed that she was wearing her resolve face.

~Part: 4~

An hour later, Spike sat on the large, comfortable couch in the mansion's main room, a glass of expensive scotch in his hand. He sneered as he watched the dark haired boy sitting at his feet, looking up at him with an idiotically adoring smile on his face. He absently wiped a dribble of blood from the corner of Xander's lip. Spike put the blood stained digit into his mouth and sucked the blood off with a slurping sound.

He had spent the past hour mind-fucking the young vampire, wasting no opportunity to slap the other around for trespasses that Spike himself had baited him into committing - like when he had distracted Xander by gently nibbling on his lips while the boy attempted to pour blood into a crystal cup, and then slapping him when the blood had accidentally spilled onto his clothing. The force of the blow had reopened an almost healed wound from their earlier altercation.

Xander's demon was strong, and Spike had no doubt that he was as vicious a vampire as they came; not after he had regaled him with stories of the numerous forms of torture he had visited on his many victims in the time his sire had been away. But for all his ferocity, the boy was meek and easy to control when it came to his sire. Not as much of a pansy as Spike himself had been with Drusilla in the beginning, but no less eager to please and to accommodate his sire's wishes.

A sadistic grin distorted Spike's features, and he wondered just how far the boy would go to please him, and how far his alternate self had pushed him. To the extreme, he concluded, if he had enjoyed playing this game as much as Spike did.

*Enough mind fucking, it's time for the real thing.*

With that thought, Spike drained the glass of whiskey and set it on the table next to him. He smiled as he ran his finger, the same finger he had placed in his mouth a moment earlier, across the boy's full lips. Blood was still seeping from the small cut, and Spike smear it across the full mouth, painting Xander's lips crimson. The young vampire smiled, and Spike noticed that when he smiled like that, without any guile, he looked almost like the human Xander he knew.

He slowly slipped the tip of his finger into the boy's mouth and waited for him to take the bait. As soft lips closed around the digit and sucked lightly, Spike drew his hand back and slapped Xander hard across the face. His hand grasped Xander's face firmly by the jaw, forcing the stunned man to look up at him.

"You want something to suck, you little whore? I'll give you something to suck!" Spike hissed into the other's face.

Shoving Xander back, Spike stood and quickly unzipped his pants, exposing his half-hard cock. He chuckled, curling his lip in derision at the expression on Xander's face. He could tell by the look the boy was giving him, that his alternate self had never demanded this from him. Maybe he had been too enthralled with the little, red-headed witch to pay much attention to Xander. Well, this Spike didn't have such diversions, so he had to make do with what he did have, which at the moment was Xander.

Grinning mischievously, Spike crooked his index finger and motioned for Xander to come closer. The young man rose to his knees and shuffled closer to his sire, until his face was only a couple of inches away from Spike's pelvis.

Spike placed one hand behind the boy's head while slowly stroking his cock with the other. Coaxed by his sire, Xander leaned forward until his lips were brushing the head of Spike's cock, then he hesitated.

Tightening his fist into the other's hair, Spike ran the tip of his now fully erect cock across Xander's blood rouged lips.

"Suck it, Xan. Make me come!" He ordered in a low voice.

Xander blinked stupidly up at him. Loosing patience with the young man, Spike gave one quick tug to his hair.

"I said suck it, you bloody twit! Take my cock in your mouth and suck it - and watch the fangs!"

Xander nodded, his eyes wide and questioning, before obediently wrapping his lips around Spike's erection. The older vampire watched as Xander struggled to accommodate his size in his mouth. His first try was clumsy at bes,t and Spike sneered when the boy nearly gagged. But his contempt was soon replaced with admiration as he felt the boy's cool tongue press against his shaft, massaging his cock in time with the sucking motion.

"Fuck, that feels good! Take it deeper!"

Spike swayed his hips back and forth, each thrust pushing his cock deeper into the other vampire's mouth, until the head of his shaft was sliding in and out of Xander's throat, and the boy's nose was buried in Spike's soft curls. Closing his eyes, Spike threw his head back, concentrating on the slurping sounds and moans coming from Xander, and the feel of the other's throat muscles contracting rhythmically around the tip of his swollen dick.

The feel of an eager mouth on his cock felt great, and Spike longed for another's mouth. He wondered what it would feel like to have the witch's small, warm mouth on him, her little tongue flicking the tip, her long fingers caressing his balls. *Not bloody likely!* He thought.

Briefly, he considered turning the boy over and fucking him, put an end to the ache that was spreading from his stomach down to his cock. But his thoughts kept drifting to the red-headed witch. He loosened his grip on Xander's hair and ran his fingers through it, picturing silky, red strands sliding through his fingers instead. His thrusts gentled and he moaned deep in his chest, picturing Willow kneeling in front of him, her lips wrapped tightly around his shaft, her mouth welcoming him.

"Oh yeah, that's it baby, take it all, suck it hard!"

Spike felt strong hands clasp around his hips and he gasped as the wet mouth fastened around him, sucking him hard. As he neared his climax, Spike quickened the pace of his thrusts and tightened the grip on the soft hair. He squeezed his eyes shut and growled as he felt his balls tighten. With a few quick thrusts, he filled Xander's mouth with his cum.

"Willowwww," he ground out the name between his clenched teeth.

"Spike..."

The soft voice calling his name penetrated through his orgasmic haze, and his eyes snapped open. Willow was already running up the stairs, back to the bedroom. The witch had seen him with Xander, and Spike wondered how long she had been standing there. He hurriedly pushed Xander away from him and tried to pull up his pants. He was certain that he had said her name aloud, he just didn't know if she had heard him.

"Bloody, fucking, hell! Willow, wait!" Spike yelled as he finished pulling up his pants and stepped over a confused and dazed Xander, who had landed on his ass on the floor. Spike almost tripped over the other vampire's prone body and he cursed again. Pushing the other out of the way with his boot, Spike dashed toward the stairs.

"Get cleaned up and go get me a bloody pack of smokes!" He yelled at Xander over his shoulder.

By the time Spike reached the top of the stairs, he had heard the bedroom door slam shut. Not sure what he would say to the woman, he ran down the hall and threw the door open. Willow was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with her knees drawn tight against her chest. Her head was turned away from him, toward the opposite wall.

"Willow ... Willow? Damn it Will' look at me! I told you to stay in this room!"

"Yes you did, and I saw why!" She spat back at him before turning her face away again.

"What exactly did you see?" He asked cautiously, although he was more interested in what she had heard.

"You know exactly what I saw! You ... you and ... Xander, you were ... were ... you know!" She motioned toward the general region of his groin.

Spike heaved a silent sigh of relief. She hadn't heard him call out her name as he came.

"What?! Is that all that's bothering you? That the moron was sucking on my cock?"

She turned her head around, staring at him with wide eyes.

"That's ... that was ... crude! And no ... well, yes ... it bothers me."

Spike raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. He was sure the witch wasn't homophobic, after all, she was a lesbian! She was a bit prudish, but not an innocent. Surely, she wasn't ...

"Are you jealous, Red?" The tone of his voice was a little more hopeful than he had intended.

"What?! Uh ... what? No! Jealo... what?"

Willow was sputtering and her eyes were as wide as saucers, staring at the vampire in disbelief.

"Goddess, no! Only you would think something like that, Spike! You really don't get it, do you?"

"Oh, I get the fact that you're upset about me having a spot of fun with vamp-moron down there. What I don't bloody well get is why!"

Willow was looking at him as if the reason should be obvious and Spike fidgeted uncomfortably, his mind trying to grasp the answer.

"Spike, you don't care about Xander, you don't even like him! You were just using him!"

Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered pack of smokes. After pulling out the last cigarette, he crumpled the empty pack and threw it into the corner of the room.

"What's your bloody point, Red?" he asked as he tilted his head and lit the cigarette.

"That is the point, Spike!" She practically yelled at him.

"You're telling me you've never shagged someone you didn't really care about - just for sport?"

The moment he said it, he knew the answer. Of course Willow would never do something like that. She was, well, Willow. He didn't wait for a response.

"I still don't see how it's any of your bloody business, both of us being vampires and all."

Willow inched forward to sit on the edge of the bed. Spike could see that she was getting angry, and he took an involuntary step back. He wondered how his alter-self had dealt with the alternate Willow's powers.

"He is not a ... I mean ... he is a vampire ... but not just any vampire. He is ... was ... in a way still is ... my friend."

Spike grunted in disbelief. The way he saw it, Willow was defending Xander, taking the other vampire's side over his. He couldn't understand why it mattered to him whose side Willow was on, but it did, and it made him angry that she would defend the other, even after all Xander had said to her earlier. It angered him that she would call him her friend!

"Is he now? Because I have to tell you, Red, if he is your friend, I'm not feeling the love. I'm willing to wager he would rip your throat out just like that." Spike snapped his fingers in the air. "if he got the chance."

When Willow looked unconvinced, Spike pressed the issue.

"He didn't so much as look at you when you first saw him. He is not your bloody friend, Will. Bugger all, Willow! No one here is your friend. In case you haven't noticed, things around here are a mite different than in our world."

Spike could see she was scrunching her face into the expression she usually wore when she was either confused, in deep concentration, or about to cry. He hoped it wasn't the last one.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you ... my friend."

Spike shrugged, not sure about the intention behind her question. He would have liked to think that he was her friend. In fact, he wouldn't mind being a lot more than just her friend. But that wasn't up to him - was it? He avoided her eyes.

"I'm helping you find your witch, aren't I? And if it really means that much to you, I'll keep my hands off the moron. Not saying that I won't slap him around if he provokes me, mind you. I just won't shag him."

Willow nodded and her expression softened.

"Close enough, thank you. About Tara ... I know she is close-by, maybe even somewhere in this house. That's what I was coming downstairs to tell you."

Spike's gaze shot up. "How do you know where she is?"

Willow's face twisted into a grimace and Spike knew he wasn't going to like her answer.

"I used magic. But not a spell," she was quick to add. "It was more like a deep meditation exercise. I just concentrated and tried to home in on her energy, until I felt it."

Spike was not happy about the fact that Willow had used magic, contrary to his specific instructions, but he couldn't blame her for it either. He knew she cared a great deal about the witch, even if the Tara in question was not the same Tara that Willow knew - in a sense, he guessed they were the same .... Spike frowned - the whole "same but different," "alternate but parallel" dichotomy was starting to wreak havoc with his sense of reality, worse than spending a century talking to Dru's dolls had! All he knew was that, in Willow's place, he would have done the same - if there was someone about whom he cared that much.

He had been postponing telling Willow about Tara being in the house until after he had a chance to see the blonde witch. After a year of captivity by Xander, there was no telling in what kind of shape the woman was. He had decided early on that if the woman was too far gone to save, he would put her out of her misery himself before he would let Willow see her, even if the chip caused his brain to explode. But that was no longer an option. Willow now knew that her girlfriend was alive and nearby; he knew she wasn't about to let the matter slide.

Even if he knew the answer, he still had to ask.

"Will, let me see if I can find her first - see her, talk to her."

"Why?"

"Because ..." Spike bit the tip of his tongue in concentration, concluding that there was no easy way to say what he was about to say to Willow. "Because Xander has kept her alive for a reason, and I don't think it's because she is a good conversationalist."

Willow shook her head as if she couldn't understand him and Spike swore softly under his breath. The witch had been around vampires and demons enough to know what he was talking about, but she wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"Spike, what are you saying?"

He took a deep, unneeded breath before continuing.

"That store that Xander has, that isn't just a business, luv. And let's just say that his expertise about the merchandise didn't come second hand. He is into torture, Willow, worst than I ever was, and that's saying a lot."

Willow brought her hands up to the sides of her head, as if she was trying to block out Spike's words. He worried that the woman was about to loose the tenuous grip she had been keeping on her emotions.

"No ... you're wrong. Not Xander ... Xander would never ... and especially not to one of us. I don't care if he is a vampire ... I know him and he wouldn't." Her words ended in a sob.

Spike moved to sit next to the woman and tentatively placed his arm around her shoulders.

"It's the demon, Will. It took me nearly a century and a bloody chip to learn to control mine, and Angelus never learned to control his. It happens ... when the demon is too strong or the vampire's will too weak ..." Spike chuckled dryly. "Xander never was a paragon of restraint ... it's usually the weakest ones that turn the worst, you know."

And Spike new about that better than anyone. He himself had gone from a shy, gentle poet to the worst kind of monster almost in the blink of an eye. Part of him felt an affinity with the boy, and he considered for the first time that it was possibly that empathy had motivated his alter-self to turn Xander.

Spike could feel Willow's eyes pierce through him questioningly, as if she could gauge the truth of his words by staring at his face. He held her gaze boldly; this was one of the few times in his life when he was not lying, and he only hoped that she could see that. She lowered her gaze and he almost moaned at the tugging sensation that loosing sight of those wide, imploring eyes caused in his chest. It was obvious by her expression that she believed him, even if she didn't want his words to be true. And at that moment, he wished he could tell her that he had made the whole thing up, even if she turned him into some crawling bug for lying to her, just as long as he didn't have to see the look of pain in her eyes.

"If what you're saying is true, then all the more reason not to waste any more time. I'm hoping you'll help me, but if you won't, then I'll find her myself." Even though her eyes were bright with tears, her jaw was clenched in determination.

Of the whole bunch, Willow was the only one who ever treated him decent, other than the Bit. If she wanted to see the Tara in this world, he would help her find the blonde witch. He only hoped that he wasn't making a mistake. Spike jumped to his feet, his flippant demeanor securely in place.

"Fine! I'll help you find your witch. I sent the moron out for some cigarettes, it should give us some time to search the house. Just don't say I didn't warn you!"

Maybe something good could still come from this turn of events - he could show the witch what a gem her precious Xander really was.

~Part: 5~

Willow could hear Spike's purposeful steps resound through the mansion as they made their way through the maze of corridors. She followed closely behind. When she had questioned Spike about where in the mansion they should start looking, he had revealed to her the he could scent Tara and that the scent would lead them to her. Willow tried to ignore the implication of this new discovery, that Spike had probably known about Tara's presence in the mansion from the instant they had arrived, and he had kept the information from her. She made a mental note to question him about the fact later; at the moment, her main concern was getting to Tara. Once she had found her girlfriend, they could break the amulet and safely get out of this world. Figuring out how to deal with explaining to the friends in her reality what she had done, and with their reaction to the presence of two Tara's would also come later.

Spike stopped suddenly. He remained still for a few seconds before taking a sharp turn into one of the long hallways. They were at the top floor of the mansion, where Xander's redecorating efforts had not yet reached. The walls were bare, and a thin layer of dust covered the corridors. Willow could see the single set of footprints that led back and forth from the closed door at the end of hall. Sheer white curtains covered the windows, remnants of the previous occupants, before Angelus had taken over the mansion. Apparently, Angelus had never used this part of the house. The bright afternoon sun filtered in through the windows and Spike recoiled, jumping back and crashing into Willow.

"What's the matter?" She asked.

"Sorry, habit." Spike pointed at one of the rays of sunlight filtering through the windows before continuing down the hall.

A few more steps and they were standing in front of the door to which the footsteps led. Seconds seemed to stretch into hours as they both stood in front of the closed door, hesitating.

"Spike?" Willow's voice was soft; despite all her bravado, the woman was terrified of what they would find. She had said that she would look for Tara alone if she had to, and she would have, but she was glad that Spike was on her side, especially now.

"At least let me go in first," he said, turning to look at her.

Willow nodded thankfully. Spike tried the knob on the door and swore softly when it didn't turn. The door was locked and Xander would be back soon, they didn't have much time.

"Will, stand back."

Taking a running start, Spike rammed hard against the door, the old wood shattering and splintering against his weight. A swift kick just above the lock, and the now useless door swung open.

The room was spacious and brightly lit. Spike stepped inside and looked toward the large bed that dominated the room - it was empty. He visibly tensed as his gaze narrowed on a corner of the room. He was standing directly in front of Willow, blocking her view with his body. She looked around him and gasped at the sight of Tara's alternate. Her body was turned slightly away from them, but her large, doe-like eyes stared back at them in confusion. She was naked, sitting on a wide chair next to the window, with her legs drawn under her. Her once lush body was thin, her face gaunt. Gashes and bruises marred her pale skin, some fresh, others already fading, a few already scarred. Tara's eyes seemed to light up momentarily when she saw Willow, but just as quickly the glimmer of light faded, and Willow wondered if it had ever been there at all.

"Tara, sweetie, it's me, Willow." Willow's voice was hesitant, barely above a whisper as she slowly approached the girl who remained immobile on her chair in the corner.

"Willow, wait!"

At Spike's warning, Willow turned wild eyes toward him.

"Is she? Oh, Goddess, no!"

Spike shook his head. "No, she is not a vampire, if that's what you're asking. But something is not right ... Just be careful."

Willow nodded, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

"Willow, you're back!"

The excited whisper from across the room startled both Spike and Willow, and they turned as one to stare at the woman. Willow recovered faster than Spike and she rushed forward, throwing her arms protectively around Tara.

"Yes, sweetie, it's me! I've come to get you out of here! Ok? Spike and I are going to help you."

Tara frowned, as if confused by Willow's words, and then giggled before turning her head toward the window.

"I think it's going to rain today. Is it going to rain today, Willow? It looks like rain."

Willow looked out the window at the clear, sunny day. She shook her head. "I ... I don't think so ... it doesn't look like it."

The forecast seemed to please Tara and she smiled weakly before gently pushing Willow back and standing up. Atop a wooden chest of drawers that sat against the wall, was a porcelain decanter with a glass next to it. Tara approached it, apparently unconcerned with her nudity or with the vampire hovering nervously a few feet away from her. Willow watched the other pour red liquid from the decanter into the glass and she shot Spike a questioning look. The vampire shrugged, indicating that he had no idea what the liquid was.

Tara sipped daintily from the glass before handing it to Willow with a smile. "Thirsty?"

Willow sniffed the contents before tasting the liquid tentatively. She smiled at Spike. "It's juice!"

Spike walked closer to the women and smelled the content of the glass.

"All I can smell is fruit juice," he commented, handing the glass back to Willow and nodding his approval. The redhead drained the small glass and handed it back to Tara.

"Thank you. It was good," she emphasized each word, in the same way that a mother would talk to a child who is just learning to speak.

"Uh, Red? I hate to interrupt this very touching reunion, but am I the only one who sees something wrong with this bloody picture?"

He rolled his eyes at Willow's disapproving glare.

"She is walking around without a stitch of cloth on, talking about the weather and drinking juice like we are a couple of callers dropping by for a spot of tea!"

"There's nothing wrong with her! She is just confused. She's been through a lot. She'll be fine once we get her out of here."

Willow's words were forceful as she tried to convince herself more than Spike. No one knew Tara like she did. The girl was shy and sweet, but she was also strong - in some ways stronger than Willow herself. She had needed to be strong in order to survive her family and deal with her gift. Many times, Willow had turned to her girlfriend not only for guidance, but also for support, and Tara had never failed her. This time could not be the exception, Tara had to be alright.

Willow looked around for something she could use to cover Tara's body and her eyes settled on a bedspread. She grabbed it and gently placed it over Tara's shoulder.

"Ooh, a party! Can I join!?"

Three heads turned in unison at the words. Xander was standing by the door, his eyes wide and his expression mockingly childlike. Willow wasted no time waiting for Spike to react.

"Away!" Her voice echoed in the room as Xander was propelled backward, into the hallway.

She quickly grabbed hold of Tara's arm and dragged the stunned woman closer to Spike. Willow's free hand reached out to touch Spike's arm.

"Now, Spike, the talisman!"

She glanced at the doorway to see Xander standing there. He was giggling and pointing a finger at her.

"Ha, ha! Fooled you!"

Willow repeated the command that should have sent Xander flying through the air, away from them. When nothing happened, Willow turned panicked, desperate eyes to Spike.

"Spike, break the talisman! Now!"

The words died in her throat, and she felt as if the blood had turned to ice in her veins when she looked into the blond vampire's face. His features were impassive, but as she stared into the glassy blue orbs of his eyes, she knew there was no hope in him for her. Before she could make sense of the situation, she felt Tara being brutally ripped from her hand. Turning, she saw Xander repeatedly slamming Tara's slack, unresponsive body against a wall.

She once again tried to use her magic to defend them from Xander, again with the same inconsequential results. It dawned on her, with a growing sense of horror and apprehension, that she was powerless. Somehow, between the time that she had done the meditation to find Tara and that moment, she had lost all her magical powers. Maybe even earlier. She had not been lying when she told Spike that the meditation was not really magic, only a simple exercise that required no special powers, only practice. The realization that she was powerless, and on her own sent Willow into a reckless panic, and she launched herself at Xander in an attempt to dislodge his hold on the now almost unconscious Tara.

"Willow, stop!"

Too late, she heard Spike's frantic command and felt him move towards her. One of Xander's arms swung around; it caught her across the chest and sent her flying against the opposite wall. Her last thought as Willow drifted into unconsciousness was that Spike had betrayed her.

It was late in the evening when Willow slowly awoke to a blinding headache. She tried to move her arm to feel the back of her head, where she was certain she would find a lump, and found that her arms were bound. Hoping that her failed magical efforts earlier that day had been a fluke, she concentrated on loosening her bonds. When nothing happened, she whimpered in frustration.

"Good evening, luv."

Willow opened her eyes and tried to focus, searching for the source of the voice. She was lying on the bed, in the same room where Spike had taken her when they had first arrived at the mansion. Across the room from her, sitting on a chair with his legs leisurely stretched in front of him, was Spike.

"Glad to see you're awake; had me worried there for awhile, Pet."

"Spike, let me go!" She hissed the words at him and winced at the flash of pain that the effort of talking produced in her head "Ouch."

"That I can't do, luv. See, it's like this. If I let you up, you're gonna try to get out of the room, and with this bloody chip in my head, there's nothing I can do to stop you. Of course, I can always call on Xander and have him do it for me - but I don't think either of us wants that. You saw how he stopped your witch from leaving!"

"Oh, Goddess, Tara! Spike, please! Why are you doing this to me?"

The vampire ignored her question and slowly rose from his seat. He moved to a small table next to the bed.

"Are you hungry? I ordered you some pizza. Do you know that in this world you can order pizza and blood from the same place?! And they deliver both, fresh and hot in thirty minutes or less, or you get to eat the delivery boy!" Spike chuckled.

Willow watched him warily as he picked up a slice of pizza from the plate on the tray and flopped down on the bed, next to her. He broke off a piece of the cold pizza and held it to her lips. Willow jerked her head away and a wave of nausea rushed through her body at the sudden movement.

"Get that away from me, please."

Spike shrugged and threw the pizza back on the plate, picking up a large paper cup filled with soda. "Thirsty?"

Willow wanted to tell the arrogant vampire exactly where he could put his soda, but the truth was she was parched. She reluctantly nodded and allowed the vampire to hold the straw to her lips. She drank greedily, her eyes glaring at Spike over the rim of the cup the entire time.

"Better?" He looked at her hopefully.

When she just continued to glare, Spike glanced at the table. "Maybe you're not in the mood for pizza. Can I get you something else?"

"You're insane," she whispered.

"You know, people keep saying that to me, and one of these days I'm going to get offended."

Willow struggled futilely against her restraints, trying to get as far away from Spike as possible. His expression grew stern.

"Red, stop that! You're going to hurt yourself." His gaze narrowed on the leather cuffs securely encircling the woman's wrists. The edges were starting to rub ridges on the delicate skin. "Tomorrow, I'm going to get you some fur lined cuffs; these are all that Xander had on hand. In the mean time, hold still and don't pull."

Willow only doubled her efforts to get away, even if she already knew that they were pointless. It was the only way she had to vent her frustration against her circumstances.

"I said stop that!"

Spike's open hand smacked the woman's hip. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to startle her. She would not have been surprised if he had slapped her across the face, or even punched her - she knew that, chip or no chip, the vampire had a short fuse and often acted impulsively. What she had not expected was an almost playful spank on the hip. She ceased her struggle and looked at him open mouthed.

She flinched as he brought his hand back down to her hip, rubbing the spot he had just hit with a slow, circular motion.

"This doesn't have to be so hard on you, Pet. I can make it real good," he purred.

Willow winced as his hand traveled down her leg to caress the place where the cuffs circled her ankle. He ignore her discomfort and continued talking in a low, sensual tone.

"I know I wasn't much in our world, but here ... here, I can have anything ... anyone ... I want. I can give you ... anything you want."

Willow felt the cool evening air on her legs. Her skirt was being pushed upward as Spike's hand traveled slowly up the length of her leg. The sudden coolness caused her to gasp.

"You like that?" He was kneading the soft skin of her thigh.

Willow squeezed her eyes shut as Spike bent his head to place soft kisses on her breasts.

"Please, Spike. Please, don't do this."

His teeth clamped on the fabric of her blouse and grazed across her nipple, while his fingers inched upward, ghosting over the juncture of her thighs. Her nipple hardened and her body jerked, trying to escape his teasing fingers and lips. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes as her body betrayed her and she almost gasped.

Willow had never thought Spike unappealing. At one time in her life, before meeting Tara, she had even considered him to be attractive - in a dark, dangerous, psychopathic sort of way. Under other, very different circumstances, what he was doing to her would not be so appalling. But this was wrong, so wrong. Now, if she could only convince her body of that.

"Think about it, Red. Anything you want ... this house ... pretty dresses ... jewels ... your witch ..."

Willow's eyes shot open at the mention of Tara. His fingers had wedged their way between her legs and he was firmly massaging the soft, moist flesh over the thin material of her panties as his eyes stared intently at her face. Willow struggled not to react as her stomach muscles tightened and moisture began to seep from her.

"Yes, Red. Even Tara. She could be here right now, doing this to you. It could be her fingers feeling your juices soak your pussy, the same way mine are feeling it right now." He smiled knowingly at her and Willow closed her eyes again in mortification.

"... and all you have to do is let yourself love me."

He took her mouth in a hard kiss as his hand cupped her womanhood and squeezed firmly. Willow felt his tongue insinuatingly penetrate her mouth at the same time one of his fingers pushed aside her panties and easily slid into her already wet hole. This time she couldn't contain the gasp that erupted from her chest and turned into a soft moan.

A cool rush of air brushed over her body and she realized that the vampire's mouth and hands had left her body. She opened her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Spike stood next to the bed, staring somberly down at her.

"Think about it, Red."

Before she had the chance to catch her breath and grasp what had just happened, he was gone. She heard the soft click of the door as it was locked from the outside. She closed her eyes again, and allowed the tears to fall, willing her traitorous body to calm down, and thinking that she had no choice but to do anything in her power to help Tara.

~Part: 6~

"Xander, where the bloody hell are you?!"

Xander heard Spike’s yell as he angrily turned the last screw into place and stepped back to look at the newly installed door. He didn’t mind doing the manual labor, what bothered him was that his sire had broken down the door to see Tara. Xander would have willingly given him the key if he had just asked. But Spike never thought about things like simply asking for what he wanted. *Oh, no. He always has to come up with a fucking plan!*

"I’m here, Spike!" *Like he doesn’t know that. Why does my sire have to make a big production of everything?*

Xander saw Spike turn the corner and walk down the corridor, towards him. His strides were sure and purposeful, his gaze intense, and the young vampire’s demon stirred at the site of his sire. Xander remembered how Spike had kissed him at the store, when he had first arrived, and his lips tingled with the memory.

The young vampire had been ecstatic when Spike had returned his kiss so passionately. He had been sure that everything would be different after that. His business was successful, he had a beautiful house and his sire was back. Even though any previous attempts by Xander to show any affection towards his sire had been met with derision and scorn, the young man had been certain then that Spike had come to his senses and that everything was going to be alright – until he had heard his sire growl the witch’s name as he had spilt his seed in Xander’s mouth.

"Xander, we need to talk!" Spike ground out as he approached him.

Xander turned his eyes back toward the door, pretending to be absorbed in his task and trying to look casual. He swung the door a few times, frowning when he heard a squeaking sound coming from the hinges.

"Sure, Spike. What about?"

Xander started to close the door but Spike stopped him by stepping in front of him. Spike’s eyes met Xander’s and he held his gaze until the younger vampire lowered his eyes and took a step back. Spike had never sired a vampire before; he had never felt the need while he was with Drusilla, and after he had been chipped, it just wasn’t an option. That didn’t mean that Spike didn’t know how to play the part. His own Dru, crazy as she was, could be quite efficient when it came to keeping her child in line – or at least, she had been before the accident in Prague. But it had been from Angelus that Spike had learnt his most important lesson. A young vampire doesn’t want to be cuddled and pampered by his sire, he wants to be controlled and shown his place.

Xander watched as Spike pushed the door open and strode into the room, never once glancing back to see if Xander would follow. *Arrogant prick.* Xander thought as he stepped into the room and waited for Spike to speak.

Xander saw Spike’s gaze settle on the woman lying on the bed, gaged and tied spread eagle.

"She came to a little while ago. I was just getting ready to have some fun. But of course, if you want to play, you can go first, you being my sire and all."

Xander grinned endearingly at the older vampire in front of him, but the grin faded from his face when Spike turned an icy glare on him.

"Believe me, Xanny boy, there’s nothing I would enjoy more at this moment than a decent spot of blood and violence. But, until I say otherwise, she is off limits!"

"What?! Why?" Xander whined.

He couldn’t believe his ears. Before that moment, Spike had never censored any of his behaviors. The rules had been simple, he had been expected to stay away from the red-headed witch and to not talk back to Spike, that had been it.

Xander had always had the feeling that his sire just didn’t care enough about him to concern himself with his child’s affairs. All his sire cared about was Willow; that’s the way it had always been. Even in the early days, before his sire had turned him, when he had kept him and Willow chained in the basement of the factory, Willow had always been his main interest.

Of course, at that time Xander had been human and had not looked forward to Spike’s frequent visits. In those days, he had spent hours watching Spike rape Willow, torturing her with knives, hot pokers, broken glass and anything else that struck his fancy, alternately calling her his princess and his whore, all while Xander was helplessly chained to a wall. At first, he had felt anger and frustration at not being able to protect his friend, and after some time, he had felt guilt at being relieved that it was Willow and not him that received most of Spike’s brutal attentions. Even then, it had always been Willow. A nagging suspicion began to form in Xander’s mind.

The young vampire had been so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed Spike’s answer.

"Bugger all, Xander. Don’t question me, just do it!" Spike’s voice was a low, warning growl.

"And again with the asking ... why?!You never cared what I did with Tara before. Hell, you used to like to watch. Why is it different now?"

Xander saw the hesitation in his sire’s expression, he seemed to be grappling for an answer he didn’t have.

Finally, Spike just said, "Because things are different, because I’m different."

Xander’s frustration and jealousy got the best of him. "It’s her, isn’t it? I heard you, calling out her name while you were cuming in my mouth."

Xander knew that he was threading on dangerous ground, but at that moment he didn’t care. Something was wrong with his sire. It wasn’t normal, the way he doted on and pampered his human pet. Something had happened to his sire in the time he had been gone, and Xander was determined to find out what it was and set it right.

Xander startled when Spike launched toward him. In two easy strides, the blond vampire was standing in front of Xander, in full game face.

"You liked that, did you?" Spike snorted. "Having my cock in your mouth. Me beating you down, making you grovel at my feet?"

Part of Xander, the very small part of his humanity that still remained, rebelled at Spike’s words; wanted to tell him that he was wrong. But the vampire that was starving for his sire’s attention reveled in the memory. And, like every time that the tinniest glimmer of his former human self reared its head, the demon won and Xander lowered his head in defeat. He answered with a barely perceptible nod.

"I didn’t hear you, Xander." Spike’s voice was forceful.

"Yes." Xander whispered.

Spike’s face inched forward until his ridgy cheek was almost grazing Xander’s face.

"Bloody hell, Xander. It could be so perfect. The four of us, together. It would be bloody glorious. Why can’t she see it?" Spike whispered and his voice was distant, almost forlorn.

Xander was still trying to make sense of the other’s behavior when he saw Spike’s head dive down and felt razor sharp teeth sink into his neck. The young vampire’s reaction was instantaneous and feral. Xander roared, shifting into game face and throwing his head back, further exposing his neck. As ecstasy cursed through his veins, Xander remembered the last time

Spike had bitten him like this.

It had been the same day he had died and his demon had been born. There had been nothing to indicate Spike’s intentions prior to the event. It was a day like any other in the seamless, perpetual hell that had become his existence ever since he and Willow had been captured by Spike.

He had heard the metal door of the factory as it opened and closed, followed by the heavy footsteps of Spike’s boots. Willow was sitting on the ground against a wall, her arms chained above her head. She had been so weak the day before, that Spike had given up trying to chain her in an upright position and had instead left her sitting on the ground. As usual, Spike was drunk, and as usual, he was ranting about his master plan to take down the slayer. Except that night, he didn’t walk over to Willow and unchained her, like he normally did. Instead, he approached Xander. The boy screamed when the vampire morphed into game face and bared his teeth.

"And you, mate, are going to help me do it!"

Those words were the last Xander heard with human ears, uttered just before Spike’s fangs sliced into his throat. As Xander felt the searing pain of his skin tearing under sharp teeth, he wondered, for what must have been the hundredth time, how Spike had managed to get his chip removed.

Hours later, Xander had awakened on the floor of the factory to the sound of grunting and moaning. A few feet away, his sire was on top of Willow, his hips pounding into the woman’s protesting body. The scene called to Xander’s newly awakened demon and he growled deep in his chest, attracting his sire’s attention.

Spike had responded by withdrawing from Willow’s unresponsive body. He strode over to Xander and ripped the other’s pants off, turning Xander face down on the ground in the process. Without a word or any preamble, he slammed into the boy’s body from behind. Xander screamed in agony, but his demon rejoiced at the feeling of his sire’s erection brutally pounding into him, tearing him, making him bleed, establishing his dominance and making him his . That was the last time that Spike showed any interest in Xander’s body – until his return.

"Xander."

Spike calling his name jerked the boy’s mind back to the present. Both vampires were still in game face, but Xander’s body had gone limp, supported upright only by Spike’s arms on his shoulders. As the haze that had enveloped Xander’s brain cleared, he thought about his sire’s question. He now understood who Spike had meant by "her."

Xander looked deep into Spike’s eyes. "Maybe because you’re not making her see."

Spike tilted his head and ran the tip of his tongue over his fangs, as if he was considering Xander’s words, before shaking his head.

"It’s not that easy, mate."

"And we continue with the why’s."

"Bloody hell, it just isn’t!" Spike yelled as he slammed Xander’s body back into the wall, before turning his back on him.

"It can be. Just look at the way you treat her. The way you were ..." Xander chose his words carefully, " ... acting ... when you first arrived, I thought for sure she was using magic on you. That’s why I had Tara give her the potion ..."

Xander’s words died suddenly in his throat as Spike swung around, his yellow eyes glowing, his expression stunned. "You did what?!"

Xander’s eyes shifted uncomfortably around the room, avoiding his sire’s. Spike seemed angry, or maybe confused, Xander couldn’t figure out which one or why.

"The ... the ... the potion ... you know, the one that Giles gave us, to keep the witches under control."

Spike slipped back into human face and Xander could see that the other was frowning in concentration.

"That’s why her magic didn’t work. The fruit juice ..." Spike whispered absently.

"That’s what’s supposed to do, isn’t it?" That, and make them purr like kittens." Xander chuckled.

Spike continued to frown at Xander. "And you say you had Tara give this to Willow, mixed in the fruit juice?"

Xander nodded. "And I put some in the soda that came from the store earlier."

Xander studied the other vampire closely. "Spike, are you alright. You seem ... I don’t know, strange. Even stranger than you’ve been since coming back."

The young vampire watched a smile spread across Spike’s lips. "I’m fine, mate, and getting better and better. I tell you what, why don’t you go out into town for dinner. You could use it." Spike pointed at the already healing gash in Xander’s throat.

Xander started to feel disappointed until he heard Spike add. "And when you come back, we’ll talk some more."

Xander nodded and grinned sheepishly. Sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants, he headed back to the main part of the house. When he reached the end of the hall, he picked up his pace until he was trotting down the stairs.

While the changes his sire had undergone in his time away from Sunnydale were still disconcerting, he had to admit they were not all bad. He had received more attention from Spike in one day than he had in the entire time he had been a vampire. All he had to do was find a way to get Willow out of the way and he could have the life he had dreamed about every day for the past year. He didn’t even mind if Spike kept the witches around as a diversion; he had enjoyed Tara’s body in the past year, and he wouldn’t mind having some fun with Willow as well. The witch just had to learn her place and his sire, for some reason he could not comprehend, seemed at a loss as to how to accomplish that end. Xander, on the other hand, had a few ideas on how to bring Willow around.

~Part: 7~

Willow laid on the bed, a not unpleasant feeling of languor spreading through her body. She felt as if she was swimming through a dense fog, randomly grasping at thoughts and quickly releasing them, capturing but a fleeting image of each. Her whole body tingled, and she moaned as she shifted against the bonds.

Ever since waking up, she had been experiencing these sporadic spells, where the whole room spun and her mind drifted. Her body also tingled and all her senses became acutely sensitive. The spells only lasted for a minute or two, but Willow was starting to wonder exactly how hard she had hit her head when Xander had thrown her against the wall.

She heard the doorknob jiggle, and a moment later the door creaked open a crack. The sound amplified in her ears, until it felt like an echo repeating itself endlessly in her brain. Someone was standing behind the door, but her bonds didn’t allow Willow to stretch far enough to see who it was, and the high-pitch sound reverberating in her ears made it impossible for her to hear anything else.

"Spike? Spike, is that you?" She called frantically, wishing that anyone would come in and help her. As desperate as her circumstances were, not having complete use of her faculties and not knowing why was terrifying.

When she didn’t hear an answer, she let her head fall back on the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut, praying for the noise in her head to stop. *What is wrong with me?!* The noise stopped after a few seconds, and Willow could discern a voice coming from the doorway.

"No ... It’s not Spike. Are you alone?"

Willow frowned and tried to identify the owner of the voice. It was a man, and the voice had a familiar, distinct accent, but it was not Spike. The voice was softer, deeper, more cultured and mature. Her heart sped up with hope, and she once again tried to lift her head and look toward the door.

"Giles? Giles, is that you?"

Giles walked in through the door, and Willow’s eyes filled with tears of relief. Giles would make things alright. He always knew what to do.

"How are you, Willow?"

"Oh, Giles! Please, please help me! You have to help me get out of here. Xander ... Xander is a vampire ... and he has Tara ... and Spike ... He ... he betrayed me ... Oh, Goddess, Giles. Please, help me!"

She watched the man walk toward the bed. The Englishman looked as if he had aged a decade since the last time she had seen him. His hair was almost completely gray, he walked with a limp, and his usually pristine glasses were held together on the sides and the middle with pieces of tape. He slowly moved toward her, dragging his lame leg.

"I can’t, Willow."

"I know Spike took the keys for the cuffs, but there has to be something around the house you can use to break the chains or cut through the leather straps."

Her eyes scanned the room frantically, looking for any instrument that could be used as a tool to break open the cuffs.

"No, Willow. I mean, I can’t help you. Spike would kill us both if I let you loose." He looked down at the floor, as if he felt embarrassed by his own words. "I just wanted to see how you were ... You look remarkably well."

"Well?! I’m tied to a bed, being held captive by vampires, and I can’t use my magic! .... And ... and ... there’s something wrong ... with my head ... my thoughts. In what twisted universe does all this qualify as well?"

Willow banged her head against the pillows in frustration. She was sure that if her thoughts weren’t so muddled, she could convince Giles to at least take off the cuffs. Maybe. She had to remind herself of Spike’s words; no one in this world was her friend. For all she knew, this Giles could be a vampire, although she doubted it by the worn out look of him.

"Giles. At least tell me what’s going on. What’s wrong with me?"

Giles adjusted his glasses and sat on the edge of the bed, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of the Giles that she knew, as he explained her condition in a studious tone.

"Your episodes of mental confusion are a side effect of the potion. They do lessen over time, and should have disappeared by now."

Giles leaned forward and studied her face. "How long has it been since you’ve used your magic."

"Wha ... what?" Willow wondered what potion Giles was talking about, and what using her magic had to do with it.

"A day, I guess..."

Giles seemed surprised. "Does Spike know?"

"Know what? That I’m a witch? Of course he knows that!"

Willow’s confusion was increasing. Perhaps it was an "episode," as Giles called it, but she didn’t think that Giles was making any more sense than she was. She decided to try a different approach, and hoped that her mind could keep up.

"Giles, what happened? Where are the others?"

Giles cleaned his glasses nervously. "Mercifully, they are dead."

"Dead?!" The tears that had been threatening to flow began to form rivulets down Willow’s cheeks. "They can’t all be dead! Where is Buffy, why isn’t she doing anything? How could she let this happen?!"

Willow’s voice was rising, and the watcher gently placed a hand over her mouth.

"Shhhh. There was nothing any of us could have done. When you and Xander didn’t return to the Magic Shop after a couple of days, we knew that something terrible had happened. Tara was beside herself with grief. She managed to maintain the barrier you had erected for a couple of days, but it eventually came down. We all knew it would. And that’s when they attacked."

Willow shook her head as if trying to deny his words. At some point, the Willow in this world had been at the Magic Shop and had left with Xander, for reasons unknown. That must have been when Spike had captured them, she presumed.

"Who is they? Who attacked you?" She asked in a small voice, afraid that she already knew, not sure that she wanted to know.

Giles sighed. "Spike, Xander and about five others."

"Spike and Xander?! That’s impossible, they wouldn’t ..."

Even as she said the words, she knew that Giles wasn’t lying. Maybe not the Xander and Spike that she knew in her world, but an un-chipped, scorned and vengeful Spike, and a vampire Xander would be capable of that and more.

"They killed everyone, even Dawn?!"

"Dawn, Anya and Buffy. I’m not sure why they allowed me to live, if this dreary existence can be called a life."

"Where were you?"

Giles looked uncomfortable and avoided her eyes as he responded. "I was there. I watched Anya and Dawn die, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. Buffy was fighting Spike when someone hit me from behind and I passed out. The only reason I think they’ve kept me around this long is because my knowledge of the occult and some of my skills are useful to them. Or maybe they decided that I deserved a fate worst than death."

Willow pulled at her restraints. The grief and desperation tearing at her heart as the leather of the cuffs tore at her wrists.

"I can help you, Giles. You can help me get my powers back and we’ll figure out how to escape this place."

She wasn’t sure that she could trust Giles, but she needed an ally, and she could no longer count on Spike. If she couldn’t get the talisman away from him, she had to figure out another way for her and Tara to return to her world. She didn’t think she could do it without Giles.

"I’m sorry, I can’t Willow. It’s too risky, especially now."

"What? Why now?"

Giles stood up as if to leave.

"Giles, wait! What do you mean ‘especially now’?"

"I have to go Willow, before someone knows I came up to see you. I had to drop off some potions and books for Xander earlier, and he had mentioned that you and Spike were back. I wanted to see how you were. I’m sorry I let this happen to you."

Willow frowned. "You were dropping off potions and books – for Xander? What kind of books?"

For the first time since he had entered the room, Giles looked Willow in the eye, but he didn’t answer her question. "I’ll try to see you again, and I’ll continue to check on Tara. We all do what we must in order to survive, just remember that."

Willow sobbed, and Giles leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Giles, please don’t leave me here" Willow begged.

"I’m sorry, I really am," he whispered as he touched his cheek to hers.

"Get the fuck away from her you bloody wanker!"

Spike’s outraged scream echoed through the room an instant before he ripped Giles away from Willow and punched the man in the face. As Giles went crashing against the wall opposite Willow’s bed, Spike brought his hands up to his temples and crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain.

"Spike, noooo!"

Willow struggled against her bonds, trying to sit up. Both men were on the floor and she couldn’t see either of them from her position.

Spike was the first to recover. He rose to his knees and rested his head on the edge of Willow’s bed. Willow shrunk back, trying to anticipate his next move.

"Spike, he wasn’t doing anything. Really, he wasn’t ... He just ... He was worried. He wanted to see ... Make sure I was alright. He wasn’t going to do anything, and he was about to leave ... anyway ... and ..."

The words poured out of the woman’s mouth like a litany. Her thoughts were disjointed, and she was terrified of what Spike’s reaction to finding Giles in her room was going to be. Of course he couldn’t physically harm either one of them, but Xander was somewhere in the house, and Willow knew, after what Spike had told he,r and what she had seen earlier, that he would feel no compunction over harming her or the watcher.

She stopped talking when she realized that the two men were staring at each other, surprised expressions on their faces.

"Your chip ... you’re chip is working again. But, how?" Giles lips were slightly parted, his jaw slack.

"Bloody hell!" Spike exclaimed under his breath.

Quickly regaining his composure, he rose to his feet and smirked down at the other man, who was still sitting on the ground.

"Don’t get too excited, watcher. I don’t plan to have this bloody chip in my brain for long. I got it out once, I can do it again."

"Yes, yes, I suppose you could do that. It would be easier, of course, if you wouldn’t have killed the wizard who performed the spell that stopped the chip from functioning the first time."

Spike’s expression was aghast. "I did that?! That was bloody stupid!"

"Yes. I suppose it was, seeing as how you could use his services again," Giles agreed.

Spike frowned, ignoring the other’s words and narrowing his eyes in concentration. Giles picked himself up slowly from the floor, stopping suddenly when Spike pointed a finger at him.

"You! You can find the spell, and Red here can do it!"

Willow’s head turned to look at Spike, incredulous that the vampire believed she would do a spell for him, even after the way he had betrayed her – most of all, a spell that would render his chip non-functional. Her head was feeling much clearer, the temporary dizziness having passed, and she bristled at his assumption.

"Hey! What makes you think I would do a spell for you ... after ... after ..." Willow looked emphatically at her bound wrists.

Spike smirked down at her, and his eyes coldly raked over her body.

"Because if you don’t, I’ll have Xander skin your witch alive, strip by strip, like a bloody deer, until you do!" Spike ground out each word, and Willow’s eyes grew wide. She stared at Spike, unable to remove her gaze from him as the horror of his words slowly sank into her brain.

Giles interjected. "I suppose I could do research ... look into some books, ask around. I don’t know how long it will take. It could be some time."

Spike held the witch’s stare while he talked to the other man.

"You do that, watcher. Now, bugger off. Will and I have business to attend to."

Giles glanced nervously between the girl and the vampire, before nodding and heading for the door. As he passed Willow, he turned to her.

"Remember what I told you."

Willow nodded her understanding.

As the door closed behind the older man, Spike turned to Willow.

"What did he tell you?"

Willow shook her head.

"I don’t know ... Spike, please untie me ... I’m not feeling well," she whimpered as another wave of dizziness enveloped her brain.

She thought she saw concern in the vampire’s eyes, but his gaze quickly hardened. However, he did reach into his pants' pocket and withdrew the key for the cuffs. He unlocked the cuff around one of Willow’s ankles and took her foot in his hand. During Willow’s struggle, the cuff had cut into her ankle and Spike studied the thin cut for a minute. Glancing at Willow, who was tensely watching him, he stuck out his tongue and lightly licked the thin strip.

Willow tried to pull her leg back, but Spike placed one hand around her calf and lifted her foot higher. Realizing that all her struggle had accomplished was causing her skirt to slide down her thigh, baring her leg, Willow froze. Spike rewarded her passivity with a gentle squeeze of her calf, and brought his head back down to her leg. He laid his tongue flat against her skin and licked the thin, curving trail around the delicate ankle.

Willow realized, with growing apprehension, that he was licking the blood off her skin. The pressure of his tongue was strong and the texture raspy; it produced a slight burning sensation that turned into a tingle as it traveled up her leg to settle at the junction of her thighs.

She heaved a sigh of relief when he put down her ankle, only to tense up again when he started to repeat the same ritual with her other leg. Part of her brain told her that she should be protesting, that she had to say something to make him stop what he was doing. But another knew that whatever she said would be of no consequence, that at the very least he would ignore her, or worst, he would become angry.

By the time he gently placed her foot back on the bed, Willow’s legs felt like jelly, and her body was trembling. She reasoned it was another symptom of what Giles had referred to as her "mental confusion," which she was realizing was a euphemism – she felt as if she was loosing her mind!

When Spike climbed on the bed and moved up her body to straddle her hips, she felt she had to say something.

"Spike ... what are you doing?"

His lips twisted into a mockingly innocent smile. "I’m doing what you asked me to do, I’m removing your restraints."

He stretched forward until his hands reached one of her wrists, and his rib-cage hovered just above her face. Willow tried to concentrate on the square of black fabric in front of her eyes while she heard the small lock on the cuff click open. Spike sat back up, careful not to settle his full weight on her, and brought her wrist to his mouth.

"Look at me!"

Willow had tried to avert her eyes, but a sharp squeeze of her wrist and his stern command brought her eyes back to his face. She watched, mesmerized, as the tip of his tongue swirled in small circles over the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. He pressed his cool lips against her flesh, and Willow tensed, assuming he was going to bite. Instead, he sucked gently on her wrist, laving the skin with moisture from his mouth. When he was done amusing himself with the inside of her wrist, Spike continued to lick his way around the thin, circular cut in the same firm, slightly abrasive manner he had done on her ankles.

An eternity seemed to go by for Willow, while Spike repeated the entire, strange ritual on her other wrist, holding her sight with his, carefully studying her face while his remained impassive.

"No fair." Willow heard the words leave her lips and wondered if she had said them aloud. If she did, she had not meant to.

"What’s not fair?" Spike asked, his lips hovering above her skin.

"I can’t tell what you’re thinking."

Spike grinned, "Do you want me to tell you what I’m thinking?"

Willow was curious, but she didn’t trust the glitter in his eyes and the suggestiveness of his tone.

She shook her head firmly. "No. I don’t think so."

Spike chuckled and placed a quick kiss to the inside of her wrist, before releasing her hand and quickly rising to his feet. Willow glanced at her wrist, which shone with a light film of moisture. She could still feel the burning sensation produced by Spike’s ministrations. It took a few seconds for Willow’s mind to register the fact that her body was now free of its restraints and she could move around. She hurriedly pushed down her skirt that had ridden up to her hips when Spike had lifted her legs, and flexed her arms a few times.

She realized that Spike was standing across the room, watching her.

"Thank you," she whispered shyly.

"So, what now, Red?"

Willow frowned. "Uh? What ... what ..."

"You told me to untie you. I did. What next?"

Willow wondered if he was playing with her, baiting her. But even if he was, that didn’t change the facts.

"I need to ... I need to ..."

Spike raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"You know." In frustration, she motioned toward the door.

"Bathroom. I need to use the ... bathroom."

Spike shrugged and motioned casually toward the door, as if meaning to imply that he wasn’t stopping her. Willow stood and nearly toppled over back onto the bed. The hours spent tied to the bed, the weakness in her legs and the fogginess of her brain, all conspired to make the short walk to the bathroom seem like a monumental task.

"You need help there, Red?"

Spike’s offer, followed by his self-satisfied chuckled, gave the woman the strength she needed to stand upright and shake her head no. Clenching her jaw, she slowly made her way past the smirking vampire, and sighed in relief when her hand reached the knob on the door and she could support her weight against it. She was about to turn the knob, when Spike’s words stopped her.

"There are towels in there, take a shower. And, Red ..."

Willow looked over her shoulder when he paused.

"...don’t lock the door."

His words shocked her, and she started to protest, but quickly changed her mind. The words had not been spoken as a command, but they weren’t a request either. They had been uttered as simple instructions – instructions that, by the expression on his face, Willow knew he expected her to follow without any fuss.

Giles’ words echoed in her mind. "We all do what we must in order to survive." At that moment, Willow had no way of knowing that those simple words of wisdom would become her mantra in the days to come. She nodded her consent, and left the room as quickly as her unsteady feet would allow her.

Once inside the bathroom, Willow glanced nervously between the shower and the unlocked bathroom door. She waited a couple of minutes, listening intently for any sounds coming from outside the door. When she didn’t hear anything, she quickly undressed and jumped into the shower, hastily drawing the heavy fabric curtain shut. Willow knew that the privacy that the curtain offered her was illusory; Spike could wander in at any moment. But at that instant, she would take any barrier, however flimsy, that she could place between her and the vampire.

As the spray of warm water hit her skin, Willow’s first order of business was to wash Spike’s saliva from her wrists and ankles. The phrase "vampire cooties" crossed her mind and Willow giggled, then wondered if this newly developed appreciation for the absurd was what loosing one’s mind was like. Looking around, she located an unused bar of soap in the soap dish, and proceeded to wash her body at a frenetic pace, her mind working at similar speed.

Willow was aware that she had started this whole mess, and that now it was up to her to get herself and Tara safely out of this world. She also knew that she would never get that task accomplished tied to a bed and locked in a room. If she was going to get anything done, she had to placate Spike, and get him to trust her to move about freely, and she also knew him well enough to know that the only way to placate Spike was to give him whatever he wanted.

A flush spread through her skin when she thought about what it was that Spike wanted. The thought that her friends would be shocked if they knew that she was even considering letting Spike touch her crossed her mind. But her friends weren’t there; she was alone and scared, and Tara was suffering, and all she wanted was to save Tara and get back home. As much as she hated to give any credit to Spike, after the way he had betrayed her, she had to admit that he had been right in stating that she had no friends here – from now on, everything was up to her.

She knew the moment he entered the room and her resolve faltered. A cold draft billowed the shower curtain, and she heard the soft click of the door. She froze and listened for his movements, half expecting him to throw the curtain open at any time. When he didn’t, she frowned. Curious to know what he was doing, she figured there couldn’t be any harm in taking a peek. She pulled the curtain back and peered around the corner to find the bathroom empty. Frowning, she opened the curtain all the way and her eyes swept the room. She could have sworn that someone had entered the room, and a quick glance at the spot where she had left her clothing confirmed it; they were gone. But whoever it had been, was no longer in the room.

Willow shut off the water and jumped out of the shower. She dried her body and wrapped the towel around herself. Looking down at herself, Willow frowned. The towel barely reached below her hips, and every time she tried to pull it down further, her breasts were exposed. Deciding that modesty was a moot point, considering her plan of seducing Spike, she took a deep breath and stepped out into the hall, heading back to the bedroom.

She walked in slowly, her head lowered. The smell of cigarette smoke assaulted her nostrils, and she knew that Spike was somewhere in the room, smoking; she just couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She walked toward the bed, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, her eyes fixated on the floor. The silence in the room was oppressive, and Willow imagined that she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move. Gingerly, she sat on the edge of the bed. Maybe she should talk to him, start a conversation, but what was she supposed to say to him? Honesty had always been Willow’s policy, perhaps more out of necessity than conviction, since she knew she was a terrible liar. But she had the impression that "Hey Spike, I have a plan. So, why don’t you hurry up and ravish me so that I can backstab you, steal my girlfriend and get back to my world," wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear.

"Well, ... uh ... this is ... uh ... awkward."

"What is, luv?"

"Me ... sitting here ... naked ... you there ... watching me ... you know ... naked?"

She heard Spike chuckle. "You aren’t naked, Red. Although, you do have great legs."

She frowned down at her legs. In high school, she had always thought that her legs were too long and too thin for her body, making her look like she was walking on stilts.

"You think?"

"Uhu, but you’re sitting away from me now, so I can’t see them. Maybe I should have a second look. What do you think, Red?"

What she thought was that she wanted to run, screaming, out of the room. But she figured that would kind of spoil her plan. Taking a deep breath, she hoisted herself higher on the bed until her back was resting against the headboard and swung her legs up, stretching them in front of her.

When Spike didn’t say anything, she risked looking at him from beneath lowered eyelashes. He was sitting on a chair, a half smoked cigarette dangling from between his fingers and his mouth slightly open. Willow could not decide if that was a good reaction or not, she always had a hard time reading his expressions when he didn’t want her to know what he was thinking.

Willow fidgeted under his stare, deciding that she was just not any good at this seduction thing and she should just find another way to save Tara. Her experience was admittedly limited, but it had never been this hard. Oz had always been the aggressor in their relationship, and with Tara it was different. Tara and her had kissed and touched each other all the time, and things had just naturally developed from there. Willow had no idea how to let someone know that she wanted them to touch her.

She almost jumped when she saw Spike crush the cigarette under his boot and stand up. She could hear each painfully slow step as he approached the bed. He placed a knee on the bed, and the mattress dipped under his weight. Pale fingers reached out to touch her leg, and traveled upward to her thigh. His head dipped and he placed a soft kiss on her knee.

"You look like prey, Pet," he commented against her skin.

"Wha ... what?"

"Your eyes are like saucers and you’re looking at me like a mouse that is about to be devoured by a cat."

There was no emotion behind his words, and Willow could not tell if he was offended, amused, or just didn’t care.

"I’m sorry. I’m just ... not very good at this."

He raised an eyebrow as he moved closer, and lay down on the bed next to her.

"Good at what, Red?"

She glanced at him, and quickly lowered her eyes when she saw his intense glare.

"‘Been doing some thinking, have we?"

Willow nodded, and she felt his head bury itself against her neck.

"I always new you were a smart one."

One of his hands came up to cradle her face as he rained kisses over her skin, working his way to her mouth.

"You won’t regret this, Red. I promise," he whispered as his mouth took hers in a slow kiss.

~Part: 8~

As his kiss deepened, and his hand slid down to her breasts, Willow wanted to tell him that she already regretted it, because she had the unexplainable urge to kiss him back, and her mind was telling her that this wasn’t really so bad. The soft fabric of the towel caressed her skin as Spike’s fingers pulled the tucked edge out, and the insubstantial barrier dropped to her waist. His hands cupped her breasts and massaged the soft flesh firmly as he pulled his head back, allowing her to breath. A soft gasp escaped Willow’s lips as his fingers pinched her nipples and he pulled gently on them, rolling and twisting the nubs until they were painfully hard.

Willow kept her eyes closed and tightly grasped the sheet under her hands. She had expected to feel some revulsion at his touch, and had been prepared for that; what she had not prepared herself for was the shockwaves of pleasure that his hands were sending straight to her belly.

"Relax, Red. You look like you’re about to bolt from the bed."

This time, Willow thought she detected some amusement in his tone. She opened her eyes to look at him.

"Are you making fun of me?"

Spike shook his head, his hands stilling on her body. "I’m just trying to get you to relax, luv; you’re stiffer than a corpse. I thought you were supposed to be the live one here."

His eyes danced with humor, but Willow was too tense to appreciate it. Consciously willing her clenched hands to release the sheet, she slid down on the bed, until she was laying down. The motion pushed the towel open and she tried not to think about the fact that he could now see the whole of her naked body. She attempted to smile.

"Better?"

Spike’s eyes traveled the length of her body and back up to her face.

"Bloody hell, Red. You’re even more beautiful than I thought!" He gasped.

He snaked an arm around her waist and laid half on top of her as he kissed her again. All gentleness had left him, and he kissed her harshly, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as he tried to pull her closer. The fabric of his shirt rubbed against her sensitive breasts and Willow moaned at the sensation.

Of their own volition, Willow’s lips responded and her hips undulated against him. She gasped in surprise at her own body’s response. There was nothing gentle or soft about his touch. This was nothing like the clumsy, shy foreplay she had engaged in with Oz, or the soft, sensual touches she had shared with Tara. Spike’s advances were carnal and feral, and awakened feelings in Willow that the young girl didn’t know she had.

His mouth latched onto her breasts and suckled harshly, until she whimpered with the near pain-like sensation.

"Spread your legs, Red. Spread them wide for me; I want to look at you," he hissed low against her breasts.

Willow noticed that his breath was ragged and she wondered why he was gasping if he didn’t need to breath. But she didn’t have much time to wonder as he apparently grew impatient with her hesitation, and his hands grasped her knees, pushing her legs apart and bending her knees in one fluid motion.

He pulled his shirt over his head and their eyes locked momentarily as the amulet that rested on his chest was revealed. The significance of the moment was lost on Willow as Spike knelt between her legs and his eyes roamed over her body. His gaze produced an almost physical sensation in Willow that she could not explain. His hands weren’t touching her, but everywhere his eyes rested, her flesh burned and tingled. When his eyes settled on her mound, she unconsciously raised her hips, offering herself to him.

Spike’s hands were immediately under her, supporting her weight, grasping her ass cheeks, hoisting her body even higher and forcing Willow to bend her back into an arch. Willow watched his head lower as he buried his face between her spread thighs. His attack on her flesh was sudden and urgent, his tongue alternately traveling the length of her slit to nudge her clit, and latching on to her tender flesh to suck hungrily at her opening.

Willow’s hand flew above her head and she grasped the headboard for leverage. The sensations that were crashing through her body at an alarming rate were overwhelming, not giving her time to think, only to react – which was a good thing because Willow didn’t want to think about the fact that her little scheme to get Tara and herself home had backfired on her in the most painfully pleasurable way. If she thought about it at that moment, she could not have come up with a single reason why she would ever want to be anywhere but in Spike’s arms.

All coherent thought fled her mind, and Willow felt as if the world was falling out from under her. Spike concentrated his attention on her clit, the tip of his tongue rapidly lashing at the swollen peak. Her breath quickened and she panted as her whole body tensed, every muscle coiled in anticipation.

"Spike ... please. Oh, Goddess, please! Spike!"

Willow realized that she was screaming the words, and that her wildly bucking hips were being held in place only by the strength of Spike’s hands. Her back arched at an impossible angle, and she panted heavily as wave after wave of release crashed through her body, culminating in a series of spasms. She was barely aware that her back was again resting on the bed until she opened her eyes and saw Spike still kneeling between her legs, his pants lowered to his knees and his erection exposed. Her eyes widened at the sight of his member and reality started to set in. This was not the way it was supposed to be; she was doing this for Tara, to save herself, she wasn’t supposed to be feeling the pleasure that was quickly starting to build again in her groin at the sight of his naked body. He was watching her intensely, a self-satisfied, knowing grin on his face.

Spike climbed off the bed and pulled off his boots. The pants slid down to his ankles and he hurriedly kicked them away. The expression on his face was one of unadulterated desire. His gaze burned with an almost tangible fire that both excited and terrified Willow. She felt exposed, laying spread-eagle on the bed in front of him, and she began to close her legs.

"Don’t!"

It was a command, she was sure of it, but to her ears it sounded more like a plea. He climbed back onto the bed and covered her body with his, his hips settling between her thighs. In a strange way, the closeness of his body made her feel less exposed, if not less threatened.

He nuzzled her neck, whispering harshly in her ear. "I want to fuck you, Willow. I want to fuck you until you scream. Say you’ll scream for me."

The frankness of his words took Willow aback, at the same time that they sent a shiver of pleasure to her core. His hips were swaying, his swollen staff sliding over her slick slit, and Willow could not stop her hips from swaying in time with his.

"Say it Will. Say you want me to fuck you!"

His words sounded desperate, and his fingers squeezed the flesh of her forearms. Willow nodded her head, placing her trembling hands on his shoulders.

"Do it Spike ..." She hesitated, the words not coming as naturally to her lips as they did to his.

" ... Fuck me hard."

Spike clenched his jaw and positioned himself at her entrance. With a single, hard push, he buried himself all the way inside her body. Willow gasped and clenched her muscles as he began to pound into her, not giving her any time to adjust to his size. She dug her nails into his shoulder, her body protesting the sudden invasion.

"That’s it, baby. Dig your nails into me, scream for me! I know you want to, I know what you need."

His pounding into her tender flesh was as relentless as his words in her ears. The sensation wasn’t painful, but it was overwhelming, and Willow threw her head back and screamed as her nails gauged at his skin. Her violent reaction only seemed to encourage him, and he grasped one of her thighs and pushed it up toward her body, burying himself impossibly deeper into her with each consecutive thrust.

"Tell me, luv. Tell me what you want."

Willow tried to speak, but her breathing was too fast and the words got caught in her throat, coming out as loud moans.

"You want to cum, don’t you?"

Willow nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. She was past the point of uttering words. All that came out of her mouth were desperate moans and groans.

"Bite me, Red. Bite me hard and I’ll make you cum."

Willow opened her eyes and shook her head in confusion. He leaned forward, placing his chest above her lips, indicating where he wanted her to bite him, never breaking his fierce rhythm.

"Do it, Red. Please!" He ground the words out, begging her.

He shifted the position of his hips and slowed down his movements. Willow felt a delicious pressure against her clitoris and he continued to move in and out of her body. The friction was intense, and Willow’s body tensed as she pulled herself up and sunk her teeth into the flesh of Spike’s chest, just above his nipple. The vampire roared, and as Willow’s orgasm hit her she clamped her teeth down, digging her nails into his shoulders and convulsed violently in his arms.

As her body began to calm down and her senses returned, the shocked woman became aware of a metallic taste in her mouth. She groaned and tried to move away from the vampire, only to feel his arms tighten around her. He was still holding her to him, her mouth pressed against his chest. She weakly pushed against his shoulders, pulling her head back.

"Spike, please. I need to lay down."

He lowered her head to the pillow, following her down until his face was hovering above hers, their bodies still joint. Willow closed her eyes and winced, mortified by the memory of her behavior only a few moments earlier. She heard Spike’s low chuckle.

"I always knew you had it in you, Witch."

Another groan escaped her lips and she tried to roll onto her side. She didn’t even want to know what he meant with that comment. Spike smiled down at her and swayed his hips insinuatingly. Willow’s eyes widened.

"Oh, no ... Spike, I can’t."

He smiled down at her. "It’s ok, Will. You look knackered out anyway."

He gave her a quick peck on the lips and pulled away, laying down next to her. Willow rolled on her side, facing away from him, hiding the look of confusion and shame on her face from his eyes. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and she instinctively snuggled closer to him.

"Get some sleep, Red. You’re going to need it for tomorrow," he encouraged.

Willow frowned. She was too exhausted to even think about what would happen when she awoke the next day. Still, she spent the next half hour trying to convince herself that she had done what she had to do, to save Tara and herself. It would have been easier if what she had to do had not felt so incredible. Unwilling to continue pondering her circumstances, Willow finally drifted off to sleep.

~*~

The mid-morning sunshine was filtering through the window and bathing the face of the woman resting peacefully on the bed. Willow’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately closed them again, the intense glare blinding her.

"I didn’t mean to wake you."

Willow groaned when she heard the male voice. For one instant, before his voice had brought reality crashing down on her, she had thought that she was safely at home, waking up to a sunshine-filled weekend morning after a frightful nightmare. But, when she opened her eyes, the nightmare was standing a few feet away from her. She squinted her eyes against the bright light.

"Spike, what are you doing?"

He was standing in front of a window with the curtains drawn back fully. The sunshine was reflecting off his platinum blond hair, and his face was turned upward, as if he was gazing into the distance.

"I woke up this morning and I thought it had been a dream."

"Yeah, me too," she whispered, although she knew that he wasn’t a fraction as disappointed as she was to find out otherwise.

He turned slightly toward her and an intense burst of light coming from his chest caught her attention. Her eyes settled on the amulet resting there, catching the light and transforming it into a brilliant burst of color. The urge to grab the talisman and rip it from his neck overwhelmed her.

He must have guessed her thoughts because the brief, affable moment of wonderment they had shared was shattered when he brusquely turned from the window and walked to the other side of the room.

A bundle of fabric landed on the bed and Willow startled. She picked up the items, frowning at the multiple yards of black fabric that comprised the skirt. The top wasn’t too bad, a sleeveless camisole with ruffles and a delicate bow at the neckline – the color was blood red. She looked at Spike questioningly and he shrugged.

"Xander got them, they must be Tara’s."

She concluded that Xander must have purchased the items as well; Tara would never willingly choose to wear something like that. The style was also slightly reminiscent of the decor of the house, which she had secretly dubbed "gaudy-chic."

Spike was smiling at her, the uncomfortable moment brought on by her seeing the talisman apparently forgotten.

"Take a shower and get dressed, I got a surprise for you."

Willow raised an eyebrow. In her estimation, surprises were supposed to be a good thing. Surprises from vampires were usually not such a good thing.

"What ... what kind of surprise?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "If I tell you what it is, then it won’t be a bloody surprise, now will it."

"Oh ... ok ..." She couldn’t see what the difference was if she was surprised now or later, but she wasn’t about to start her morning arguing with Spike, not after the lengths to which she had gone the previous night to make peace with him. "Hum, so that’s what I’m calling it now, making peace," she thought.

Willow didn’t want to give too much thought to the events of the night before, but she was too intelligent to dilute herself by thinking that nothing had happened. She just couldn’t afford the time to think about it at the moment; not when there were more pressing matters demanding her attention, such as how to convince Spike to let her see Tara.

She collected the clothing and walked to the bathroom, suddenly shy about meeting the vampire’s eyes. Once in the shower, she didn’t dawdle. Her hands moved angrily over her skin, washing away any trace of her tryst with Spike. The door was unlocked – she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to lock it this time or not – and Willow prayed that Spike wouldn’t come in. She was having enough trouble making sense of her own thoughts and emotions, Spike’s unpredictable reactions were more than she could handle at the moment. He was being uncharacteristically merciful that morning; not a single crude or blistering comment about the events of the previous night had left his lips. Once she had time to think about it, Willow found his demeanor almost taciturn, and she couldn’t help but wonder at it. Still, she preferred the gentle aloofness to his usual sarcasm, and she wasn’t going to press her luck by questioning him.

A few minutes later, Willow was dressed in the voluminous skirts and frilly tank top. The top was too big and the skirt felt heavy and awkward around her slim legs. The practicality of women’s underwear was apparently lost on the vampire. Willow breathed deeply and braced herself to face whatever surprise Spike had prepared for her.

She marched out into the hallway and walked straight into Spike, who had apparently been standing just outside the bathroom door.

"Are you ready?"

Willow nodded and Spike took her by the hand, leading her down the corridor.

Her chest filled with hope when Willow recognized the path they were taking. It appeared that he was taking her to Tara’s room. They came to a halt in front of Tara’s bedroom door and Spike motioned for Willow to go in.

"You’re not coming?" Willow asked nervously, not sure why the thought of Spike leaving her alone unnerved her. Perhaps because she didn’t trust him.

"No. I’m going to run into town for some cigarettes, maybe go for a walk. You know, take in the sun."

He wriggled his eyebrows at her and smiled, before turning around and striding away. Willow knocked on the door, listening to Spike’s footsteps fade down the corridor. When no one answered, she knocked again, with no results. She tried the door and found it unlocked. Peering into the room, she tentatively called Tara’s name.

"Willow!" Tara’s soft voice answered from inside the room.

Willow hurriedly stepped in and closed the door behind her. Tara was sitting at a small table set for two with a large teapot, teacups and a plate filled with pastries and fruit. Tara was dressed in a white, flowing dress that might have been pretty several years before, when it was still wearable. Her long hair was hanging loose, framing a face marred with fresh bruises.

"Oh, Tara! I’m so sorry."

Tara smiled absently at her. "I was waiting for you. Sit down, have some tea."

Tara filled both cups with steaming tea and looked at Willow expectantly. Willow walked around the table to kneel in front of Tara. She tenderly pushed the hair away from the other’s face and tucked it behind the girl’s ears, in the same fashion she had seen her wear it so many times.

"Tara, I need to ask you something. Please pay attention. Ok?"

Tara frowned and reached for one of the pastries.

"Tara, do you remember Giles?"

Tara smiled and nodded, nibbling delicately on the sugary cake.

"He said he comes to see you, he talks to you. Do you know where to find him?"

Tara frowned again. "Giles?"

Willow nodded, trying not to become impatient with the woman. Her heart was pounding against her chest and her throat was dry with dread. There was no telling when they would get another opportunity to be alone, unsupervised. Willow was dreading the fact that Spike was most likely expecting a replay of the previous night. If they were going to get away, it had to be soon. She didn’t even know if she could trust Giles, even if she could find him. The situation had all the makings of a set up -- Spike was probably just around the corner waiting for Willow to make her move, she knew it. Still, she had to try. If they made it out of the house and Giles refused them help, then she would have to find another place to hide herself and Tara until she could figure something out.

"Yes, Tara, Giles ... Do you know where he is? Does he live here?"

Tara shook her head.

"Where, Tara? Where does Giles live?"

Tara broke off another piece of the pastry and studied it before answering.

"At the shop. Giles lives at the shop."

Willow frowned. "The Magic Box? No, no. I was there, it’s ... it’s ... well, it’s a store ... I don’t think anyone lives there."

Tara nodded her head, insisting that she was right. She leaned closer to Willow and whispered, "Below."

Tara covered her mouth and giggled, like a little girl who had just said a naughty word. Willow thought about the woman’s statement for a minute before her eyes lit up with understanding.

"The basement! Giles lives in the basement of the Magic Box!"

Tara smiled brightly down at Willow. "Drink your tea."

She handed Willow one of the dainty cups.

Willow shook her head, taking the cup from Tara and placing it back on the table. Standing up, she looked around the room.

"Do you have a purse or something like it?"

Tara shook her head, her face falling. "We are supposed to be having tea."

Willow ran to the bed and pulled a pillowcase from one of the pillows.

"Tara, forget the tea, we have to go," she said urgently, as she emptied the contents of the plate into the pillow case.

"We are going to need food, I’m starving but we don’t have time to eat right now," she explained when Tara frowned and tried to reach for the food.

"Come on, let’s go."

When Tara gave no indication of moving, Willow took her arm.

"We have to go, Tara."

The other woman stubbornly shook her head.

"We are not supposed to go; Xander is going to be mad."

Willow clenched her teeth at the mention of her former friend now turned fiend.

"Xander is just going to have to get over it. Ok?"

Resigning herself to the fact that Tara was not going to cooperate, Willow decided to use a different approach.

"Xander said it was alright for us to go."

Tara looked at her skeptically. "Xander said we were supposed to drink tea."

Willow sighed in exasperation, took the cup of now lukewarm tea and swallowed it in one gulp.

"There, we drank tea. Now, let’s go find Xander."

"We are going to find Xander?"

"Yes, yes we are. He is waiting for us and he is going to be angry if we are late."

Willow hated lying to Tara, especially in the woman’s confused state. She felt as if she was taking advantage of Tara’s plight. But it was the only way Willow saw to make the woman go with her willingly. Fear of angering Xander seemed to motivate Tara to agreeably follow Willow.

They walked slowly through the maze of corridors, following the same path that Spike had taken. After descending the first flight of stairs, Willow paused and listened for any indication that there was someone else in the house. The floor seemed deserted and the two women continued cautiously, with Willow in the lead. They stopped again at the end of a long corridor. From around the corner, Willow could see the long staircase that led to the main floor, and after that it was only a few feet to the front door.

"This stuff used to be a lot easier when I knew vampires couldn’t chase me out into the sunlight," she mumbled to herself.

"Willow, where is Xander?" Tara asked.

Willow turned around quickly and put a hand over the woman’s mouth. "He is not here, I told you. We have to go meet him," she whispered.

She thought that Xander’s whereabouts were actually a very good question. The vampire didn’t seem to be in the house, but Willow would feel a lot safer if she knew where he was. Gathering her courage around her, Willow straightened and walked determinately to the stairs, dragging the other woman behind her.

Once on the main floor, Willow relaxed. The room was deserted and the door was only a few steps away.

"So, where are we going?"

Xander’s voice coming from behind her sent Willow’s heart racing. She swung around, trying to place Tara protectively behind her, but the woman rushed straight for the vampire.

"Xander! We were looking for you," Tara informed him as she stopped in front of him and dutifully kissed his cheek.

"Tara, no. Get away from him!"

The other two ignored Willow’s frantic scream. Xander turned a hard glare on her, while Tara stood next to him, carefully studying his face.

"Is that so? You girls wouldn’t happen to be bored and looking for some action? Because, call me action-man!"

A deceptively playful smile curled Xander’s lips. Willow looked frantically around the room, not sure what she was looking for.

"Please, Xander. Please, let us go!" Willow realized that she was crying. Crying was definitely not part of her plan, but they had been so close, and for a second time not close enough.

Xander turned his attention back to Tara and idly fingered a lock of her hair.

"I’m not holding you, Will’"

Willow shook her head in confusion, her wild gaze shifting between Xander and the woman standing next to him.

"Tara ... come here by me. Please?"

Xander’s hand grasped Tara’s arm firmly. "I am holding her," he ground out emphatically. "I said, I wasn’t holding you."

Understanding dawned on Willow. Xander was making her choose between staying at the house, or leaving Tara behind. Or at least, she thought those were her choices. She was no longer taking anything for granted in this place. Her heart broke as she looked at the ghosts that had once been her girlfriend and her best friend. Both were nothing but shadows of the people she had known. At that moment, Willow made her decision. If she remained in this place, she would eventually become like them, dead in either body or spirit, a wandering specter in a make-believe world. Promising herself that she would return for Tara, somehow, Willow spun around and ran outside, into the bright light of day.

~Part: 9~

Spike felt the mid-day sun on his face and wondered if it would ever feel natural to walk in the daylight. He could have borrowed Xander’s car for his trip into town, but he had chosen to walk instead. There was something about being a vampire and boldly walking down the sunbathed sidewalks that he enjoyed – a sense of invisibility.

His first stop was a small convenience store a few blocks from the house. As he stepped in, he could feel the eyes of the young boy behind the counter follow him. The human shifted uncomfortably on his wooden stool and lowered his eyes when Spike looked at him sharply. It felt good to be able to instill that kind fear in people with his mere presence again. After a cursory inspection of the small store, to see what kind of "conveniences" a store like this could possibly offer a population of vampires, Spike picked up a pint of whisky and walked up to the counter. Slamming the bottle down in front of the attendant, causing the man to nearly jump out of his skin, Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out the roll of bills that he had taken from Xander’s bedside drawer that morning.

"A pack of Marlboros," he said, without looking at the boy.

"Sure thing, Spike."

The vampire’s eyes shot up to look at the man, who was attempting to smile at him as his shaky hand reached for the requested pack of cigarettes.

"You know who I am?" Spike asked.

The boy seemed confused by the question. He placed the pack of cigarettes on the counter, next to the bottle of whisky, and took a hesitant step back.

"Uh, yeah, sure, Spike. Doesn’t everyone?"

Spike smiled widely at him, not caring if the genuine smile contradicted his image as the big-bad in this town.

"Yeah, I suppose everyone does, mate."

Spike paid for his purchase and stepped out on the street. He smirked as he heard the store clerk breath a sigh of relief behind him as he walked out of the front doors. In front of the store, he stopped to open the pack of cigarettes and take a swig from his bottle. He longingly looked down the street, in the direction of Willie’s, running the tip of his tongue over his lips. Spike remembered the taste of the fresh, human blood the bartender had poured for him the day before. A vampire who couldn’t hunt could surely get used to frequenting that place.

Remembering that the only reason he wanted to go to Willie’s so badly was because he was unable to procure his own human blood by other means caused Spike to reconsider his priorities.

After slipping the bottle of whisky into the waistband of his pants and rolling the pack of cigarettes into his sleeve, he turned and walked in the opposite direction, towards the Magic Box.

"I better light a fire under the watcher’s ass," he thought. While bottled blood was not exactly of the bad, as long as it wasn’t pig’s blood, for a vampire, nothing could replace the thrill of the hunt.

A commotion on the other side of the street caused Spike to pause and look in that direction. Two vampires had cornered a woman against one of the buildings. The woman was shaking and whimpering, but amazingly, not fighting. One of the vampires was holding her against his body, his hand on her breast, while the second sank his fangs into her neck, his hands under her dress, roughly rubbing between her legs. Spike was momentarily taken aback by the fact that this was taking place out on the street in plain day. He smirked, trying to imagine what the Slayer’s reaction would be to watch something like that happening in her town.

He felt himself grow hard watching the display in front of him. After a few moments, the vampire who had been drinking from the woman stepped back. The other released her and she scampered to get away, stumbling into an alley. The two vampires laughed and casually continued walking down the street without a backward glance. The woman’s neck was still bleeding, and Spike could smell the scent of her blood clear across the road. "Fuck Dante, this is what Paradise is really like," Spike thought with a smirk. His resolve to make getting his chip removed his first priority strengthened, Spike picked up his pace as he strode toward the Magic Box. Once his chip was out, his little witch would know what it was truly like to be loved by a demon.

Thinking about Willow brought back memories from the night before. He recalled how beautiful she had looked, naked and splayed wide before him; how she had offered herself to his mouth, the sweet taste of her, and the fire with which she had loved him. She had been sweet, coy, and guileless; everything he had expected Willow to be. But she had been more. He had touched something deep inside of her, a darkness and fierceness that rivaled his own. The discovery had been unexpected. His plan had been a gentle seduction, a tentative tryst. But something in her had pushed him beyond self-control and past reason – and it had frightened him. It had both shocked and excited him to see his blood on her lips afterwards. Spike was a demon, he knew darkness when he felt it – hell, darkness called to him – and he was certain that he had felt it in Willow, although he knew that it didn’t make any sense; it was something that he intended to explore further, though.

Spike stopped in front of the store that had once been the Magic Box, and looked once again at the display in the front window before stepping inside. He knew Xander would not be there. He had left Xander back at the house, watching over Willow, but Xander had indicated that Giles sometimes ran the store for him, and that Spike should not hesitate to walk in like he owned the place, because for all intents and purposes, he did.

"Hey, Giles, you in here, mate?"

"Spike, what brings you here?"

Giles directed the question at the vampire, but he averted his eyes as he slowly limped to stand behind the counter. Spike studied the old ex-watcher as he limped through the store. He wondered what had happened to the man’s leg, and if Xander had anything to do with it; he concluded that most likely, he did. In Spike’s opinion, the stupid boy had turned out to be a most vicious and savvy demon, and Spike congratulated himself, or at least, his alternate self, on his decision to turn him. While Spike had never much cared for the human Xander in his world, he found himself growing fond of the young vampire. He was devoted to his sire, loyal, vicious, and could give a not-bad blow-job, all qualities that Spike admired.

"Came by to see if you’ve made any progress."

When Giles only stared at him with a blank expression, Spike narrowed his eyes.

"My soddin’ chip?" Spike stated, pointing at his head.

"Oh, oh yes. Of course. Well, you know Spike, it hasn’t even been one day; these things take time."

"Yeah, and they take even longer if you’re not even trying!" Spike took a few threatening steps forward, until only the counter stood between him and the watcher. "Perhaps I should have Xander take a look into it, make sure that you are really trying, and not just jerking me around," Spike looked pointedly at Giles’ lame leg, and he knew by the other’s expression that Xander had caused the injury that crippled the ex-watcher.

Spike heard the bell that hung above the door signal that a costumer had arrived, and both men turned their heads to see Xander stride in, an angry expression on his face. The young vampire walked straight to Giles, pointing an accusatory finger at the ex-watcher.

"Where is she?! He roared.

Spike and Giles exchanged perplexed looks. Spike was the first one to speak.

"What’re you talking about, mate. Where is who?"

Xander glanced at Spike before averting his eyes. "The witch, she left the house this morning and she was coming here!"

Spike felt the rage rising in him as his eyes shifted between the vampire and the man in front of him.

"Which, witch?" He ground out, already knowing the answer. "And what do you mean she ‘left’ the house’?"

Xander walked closer to Spike, until they were standing only a couple of feet apart. "I told you she couldn’t be trusted, Spike. No sooner had you left the house, I caught her trying to sneak out of the house with Tara."

Spike considered the other’s words, his rage barely contained for the sake of finding out more information about what had happened. He hoped that the young vampire was not saying what Spike thought he was saying; and if he was, he better have a damn good explanation.

"You caught her trying to leave the house and you didn’t stop her?!"

Xander took a step back when he saw the expression of pure rage in his sire’s face. "I ... I ... there’s no one she can turn to in this town, except the watcher here, nowhere else she could go. I wanted you to see that I was right, that the bitch was only waiting for you to turn your back so that she could betray you."

Xander shifted about nervously as he hastened to explain. Clearly, he had known that Spike would be angry, but he had miscalculated just how irate the older vampire would be.

In two easy strides Spike was on him, his fist clenched around the fabric at the neck of the other’s shirt. "Where the bloody hell is she?!" He screamed in Xander’s face.

Xander turned panicked eyes toward the watcher. "Giles, where is Willow?"

The watcher stared dumbfounded at the two vampires. "Xander, I don’t know. I haven’t seen Willow since yesterday, back at the house. Are you sure she was coming here?"

Xander pushed Spike’s hand away and the other released him. He strode determinately toward Giles, his expression both dark and frantic. "Where else would she go in this town?" His hand swung out, slapping the watcher across the face hard enough to send him reeling backwards against a row of shelves behind the counter. The shelves crashed down with the impact, and Giles fell on top of the rubble of wooden shelves and merchandise, wincing in pain.

Not waiting to see the outcome of the altercation, Spike ran toward the stairs in the back of the store, descending them two steps at a time. The basement that had once been the shop’s storage room, now clearly doubled as the ex-watcher’s living quarters and library. Books were stacked everywhere, on shelves, tables and even on the floor. There was a small table with two chairs in the center of the room, and a cot in one corner. Spike wondered how the watcher, who had been such a stickler for order, managed to keep his sanity living in such cramped disarray.

Without any further thought, Spike tore into the room, ripping the place apart, more to relieve his frustration than to search for the girl, since he already knew that she wasn’t there. If she would have been there, he would have recognized her scent the moment he had entered the door, and the only heartbeat he could detect in the place was Giles’ in the room upstairs.

The room was in shambles, but Spike’s anger had not abated; it had only increased as he thought back to the conversation between him and Xander earlier that morning. Even as he had argued so vehemently to the contrary with Xander, he knew the truth, that Willow would never willingly allow him to love her. Xander had insisted that he was going soft, that his ideas about Willow being his "girlfriend" were ludicrous. Spike almost smiled as he remembered the sense of satisfaction he had derived from smashing his fist into the boy’s face after that comment. Even after Spike had split his lip open with his fist, Xander had insisted that Spike test Willow’s loyalty. Spike had refused, but he should have guessed that the boy would do something stupid, just to prove that he was right about Willow.

Spike strode back up the stairs to find Xander anxiously pacing the stor,e and a bloody and battered Giles still laying on the ground. The moment he saw Spike, the boy raised his hands defensively, his eyes frantically looking for an escape route.

"Spike, she ... she had to be ... here. There’s no where else ... for her to go. The watcher probably has her hidden somewhere. We just have to get him to tell us where," Xander stammered as he backed away from Spike, the other advancing on him steadily.

Spike was livid, the anger almost a tangible thing he could taste as it rose in his throat. He was angry at Willow for running away; he was angry at Xander for allowing her to go just to prove a point, but mostly, he was angry at himself, for trusting Willow and for being so elated about his sudden turn of fortune that he had overlooked Xander’s intentions.

Xander continued to back away until there was nowhere left to go. "Maybe she went back to the house ... She is probably already there," he offered sheepishly just before Spike’s fist crashed into his face. Blood spurted from the young vampire’s face to land on Spike. The blond vampire changed into his demon face and licked the stray droplets from his bottom lip before smashing his fists into Xander’s face several more times, until the boy’s face was reduced to a bloody pulp.

Not yet satisfied, Spike grabbed a hunk of Xander’s hair. He felt the strands rip from the scalp as he repeatedly slammed the other’s face on the counter. Xander’s attempts to defend himself were meek and futile. Spike had unleashed his demon in a way that he had not done in months, and the demon would not be easily satiated. A bullwhip hanging prominently on one of the walls caught Spike’s attention and he reached for it. He uncoiled the whip and tested its weight in his hand before swinging his arm back and bringing the leather crashing down on Xander’s back. The whistling sound of the whip moving through the air, followed by a sickening thud as it made contact with flesh, resounded through the store. He repeated the motion several times, Xander’s screams joining the sound of the whip. Only when Xander lay barely conscious on the floor, in a pool of his own blood, did Spike stop his assault. He dropped to one knee next to Xander, and once again grasped the other’s hair, lifting Xander’s head to look into his swollen eyes.

"If something happens to her, you’re dust!" he hissed, before slamming Xander’s face against the floor one last time.

"Spike, Spike!" Giles’ call penetrated Spike’s haze of rage and reached his ears. Shifting back into human face, he turned toward the man who sat on the floor, breathing laboriously.

"What?" He growled low in his throat, his demon still not fully under control.

"Spike, I didn’t lie, I haven’t seen Willow, and Xander was right; there’s nowhere else in this town that she could go, she would have come to me."

"What are you trying to say, old man?" Spike asked, his anger being quickly replaced by dread for Willow’s safety.

The watcher took a couple more breaths before he continued. "I’m saying that this town is not safe for her. The vampires out there ... sure, some know you and know who she is, they wouldn’t dare hurt her. But you’ve been gone for a year. A lot of new vampires and demon’s have moved into town since then ..." The watcher let his words drift, knowing that Spike understood his meaning.

"All I’m saying is that you have to find her," he concluded, trying to hoist himself to his feet.

Spike walked over to Giles and helped him to his feet, offering his arm for support as the watcher limped to a nearby chair.

"Where do you think I should start looking, mate?"

Spike didn’t care at the time if Giles thought him daft for asking him for advice. The watcher, unlike Spike, knew this town, and even if Giles and Spike had never agreed on much, Spike recognized that Giles honestly cared about Willow and would want him to find her.

Giles seemed to consider the other’s question for a minute.

"Check the house first, she might have returned there for Tara. If she is not there, try Willie’s or The Bronze, they are both big hangouts for the rougher element around here. If you can’t find anything out, there are a few other joints in town you can check, but I would try those two places first.

Spike nodded and walked toward the door. He paused with his hand on the handle. "Giles, if you hear from her, you’ll let me know?"

He turned hopeful eyes toward the watcher, and the other must have recognized the desperation there, because he nodded his head. "I’ll call the house."

Spike nodded his head in acknowledgment and walked out into the street, without looking at the unconscious vampire he was leaving behind.

~*~

Willow’s body shivered as consciousness slowly returned to the woman. Her first awareness was of being in a cold, dark and humid place. She also realized that she was naked with her hands tied high above her head, and her feet barely touching the ground, as the wrenching pain in her shoulder blades testified. Trying to orient herself and collect her thoughts, she looked around as far as her restraints would allow. She concluded that she must be somewhere underground, in one of the many tunnels that crossed the town of Sunnydale. A rank odor, like mold and wet dirt, reached her nostrils and Willow almost retched; she was probably somewhere in the sewers.

Her mind was still foggy and not much made sense to her. She remembered leaving the house that morning, leaving Tara behind. She had run at full speed down the street, ignoring the curious stares of passers-by. Tears had clouded her vision, and she had to stop once, when a dizzy spell overtook her. No one was following her, she was certain of that. Even though Xander had willingly let her go, she had half-expected him to come after her – like a game of cat and mouse.

As she neared the building that had once been The Magic Box, she slowed her pace down. Ducking into an alley, she surveyed the street in both directions, imagining that if anyone was following her, they could surely hear the drum-like pounding of her heart. None of the transients were recognizable, and after a few seconds of waiting to see if anyone came around the corner, she willed her legs to move. Just as she was about to step out onto the sidewalk, a pair of cold hands grabbed her from behind. At first, she had thought that Xander, or maybe even Spike, had caught up with her, but as she swung around, fists flying in the air to ward off her attacker, Willow found herself face to face with the largest, meanest looking vampire she had ever seen.

He was in full game face, and easily lifted her off the ground by her arms. When she tried to scream, not sure of how much good it would do, he slammed her back against the wall, and pressed one meaty arm across her rib-cage, the hand at the end of the other arm clamping on her mouth and effectively cutting off her respiration. As the vampire’s fangs had descended on her neck, her last conscious thought had been that she was going to die, and that she should have stayed at the house. Which brought to her mind the question of why she was still alive.

The vampire’s bite stung and it sent a bolt of pain through her neck when she tried to turn her head. At the end of a long tunnel, Willow could make out the figures of two men talking in hushed tones. One of them, she was certain, was the vampire that had attacked her near the Magic Box; the other was a shorter, scrawny man, but probably another vampire. Willow could not hear what they were discussing, but she could tell that they were arguing.

She tried pulling on the ropes, but only succeeded at making her arms and shoulders hurt even worst. Her hands were numb, whether from the rope cutting off her circulation, or the cold, she didn’t know.

"Please, Spike, where are you?" She whispered.

The thought occurred to her that she had lied to him, used him and then betrayed him, and that he might be so angry with her that he wouldn’t come looking for her. That morning, she had wanted nothing more than to get away from the vampire. Now she would give anything to see him, because she knew that if anyone in this world was going to bother looking for her, it would be him. Tears of hopelessness and desperation rose to her eyes.

"Please, Spike, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please help me!"

She whispered the words, as if the vampire could actually hear her. Sure, she still thought that Spike was a two-timing snake who had betrayed her, held her prisoner, and threaten her at every turn – but she knew that the one thing Spike would not do was kill her, something that she didn’t know about the two vampires hovering at the end of the tunnel. Spike had plenty of opportunities to kill her or hurt her, but the worst he had ever done was scare the wits out of her, even when he had been un-chipped and could have easily drained her of her blood.

Her quiet whispers must have drawn the vampires’ attention, because Willow saw them heading up the tunnel in her direction. "Oh great, I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut, now they know I’m awake," she thought.

The two vampires strode toward her until they were standing directly in front of her. The smaller of the two seemed to be pouting.

"How come you got to bite her?" He whined in an annoyingly high pitch voice.

"I just had me a taste, no harm in that," the bigger vampire who had bitten her explained.

"Then how come I can’t have a taste, if there’s no harm in it?"

"Because I already had a taste, and if you have some too, she might loose too much blood and then she’ll be dead, you idiot!"

"Not fair, you always get to go first, and all I get are left-overs. No fair!" The smaller man looked to Willow as if he was about to throw a full blown tantrum. She stared aghast as the two vampires rekindled their argument about whether or not the smaller vampire got to have a "taste" of her. It was obvious to Willow, by the way they talked and the look of them, that they could not have come up with a complete thought if they put both of their brains together. Maybe she could still get out of this in one piece. At the very least, she had to try.

"Uh ... excuse me?"

Both vampires turned to look at her as if they were surprised that she knew how to speak.

"I don’t mean to interrupt, but I think you should know that you are making a terrible mistake." Willow swallowed hard, awaiting their reaction.

"How you figure?" The larger vampire asked.

"I belong to this very mean, very jealous vampire by the name of Spike. Have you heard of him?"

The two vampires looked at each other, thinking hard about her question.

"I don’t think so, have you Tom?" The larger vampire asked the other.

Tom nodded his head. "You know, Rick, I think I have. Spike ... Spike ... Ain’t he that fellow from back east, tall, dark hair?"

"Nah, that one’s name was Slash!" Rick argued.

"No, no. I think his name was Spike," Tom said shaking his head.

"It was Slash, you idiot! I know the guy, and he wouldn’t be caught dead with a scrawny thing like this girl! And how do you get Spike from Slash?!" Rick yelled.

The two vampires looked ready to rip each other’s throats out over some vampire named Slash whom Willow had never heard of. The girl rolled her eyes in aggravation.

"Uh, guys ... sorry to interrupt again, but his name is Spike, and he is going to be very angry if he finds out what you guys have done ... and you know ... it’s never good when Spike gets angry ..."

"I don’t know him," Rick interrupted.

"I still say it’s the same guy," Tom grumbled.

"No, it is not the same guy!" Willow yelled in exasperation at the stunned vampire. "His name is Spike, Spike ... He is British, and he is blonde and very ornery! But if you let me go right now, I won’t tell him what you did."

"Can’t do that; boss won’t like it," Tom informed her.

Willow’s eyes grew wide. "Boss? What boss?"

"You know ... the boss ..."

Rick cut off Tom’s words with a jab to his ribs.

Rick leaned close to Willow’s face. "We’re gonna ask around about this Spike you’re talking about. But if the boss says you stay, then you stay!"

The two vampires turned on their heels and walked back down the tunnel, leaving Willow behind, cold and alone. She wondered who this boss was and what he wanted with her; judging by the fact that she was naked and tied up in some tunnel, she guessed nothing good.

"Please, Spike, hurry up and find me!" She whispered one more time.

~Part: 10~

Willow had lost track of how much time she had spent suspended from the tunnel's ceiling. The pain that had started as a dull ache in her arms had turned into searing agony as she felt the tendons and muscles in her upper-back and shoulders stretch and tear. She had given up trying to be brave several hours earlier and the trails of copious tears marred her cheeks. Spike had not come, she hadn't seen anyone in what seemed like days, although she was almost certain it had only been a few hours. Every muscle in her body was tense with fear, pain and cold, and she wondered how much longer she could endure this torture.

A small noise caused her to wriggle her feet, thinking that it was maybe the rats that lived in the tunnels and would occasionally scurry across her feet. But the sound grew stronger as it grew nearer and she realized that someone was approaching.

"Great, the brain-dead boys are back. Maybe they've come to let me go," she thought. She raised hopeful eyes in the direction of the noise, but could not make out any shapes in the darkness that surrounded her.

She startled and almost screamed when she realized there was someone, or something, standing directly behind her. There had been no noise or contact, she had more sensed a presence than anything, but she was certain she was no longer alone.

"Please ... Please help me," she whimpered as she strained her neck to look behind her.

The figure stepped into the line of her peripheral vision and Willow could make out its form. It was a man, or at least, she thought it was a man. It could be a tall woman, or a vampire, for all she knew. Whoever it was, it was not one of the vampires to whom she had spoken earlier. The shape was leaner than the big vampire who had bitten her, but much taller than the short vampire had been. Dressed in black from head to toe, with gloves and a full hood covering the head, the figure was barely distinguishable from the darkness around him. Willow felt a shiver of apprehension run up her spine at the dark presence standing immobile next to her.

"My arms ... they, they feel like they're been pulled out of the sockets. Could you ... at least ... loosen the ropes ... please?" She asked in a small voice.

The man did not move. Willow heard a thudding sound and looked down at his hands. He was holding what looked like a thin, long stick in one hand, and was rhythmically tapping it against the open palm of his opposite hand.

"Please ..." Willow pleaded one more time.

Without a sound, the figure moved behind her, until he was out of her line of vision. She was completely unprepared for the sharp blow to her buttocks that followed. The impact reverberated down the muscles in her legs and it stung her flesh. Before she had time to react, another blow followed, and then another. Her eyes filled with tears and Willow began to sob.

"Please stop! Please, why are you doing this?" She pleaded.

No answer came and the blows continued to rain on her buttocks and thighs until she was sobbing hysterically, and she could feel a warm liquid she thought was blood slowly trickling down her legs. It took her a moment to realize it when the beating stopped. She willed her body to slowly relax, but tensed up again when the figure circled around to stand in front of her. Lifting her tear filled eyes to him, she waited silently for what would come next, too frightened to ask who he was or what he wanted from her.

She felt the tip of the smooth, wooden rod he had used to beat her trail slowly up her inner thigh and Willow realized with growing horror what he was going to do. As he brought the cane between her legs and started to move it slowly against her soft folds, Willow felt her head grow light, and warmth spread across her body. The room spun around her and she threw her head back as her thoughts became unfocused and confused. "Oh, Goddess, not now!" She thought, as another of the spells of dizziness she had been suffering for the past two days overtook her.

Vaguely aware of what the black-clad man in front of her was doing to her body, Willow felt her respiration quicken and her body spasm involuntarily. As the fog lifted from her brain, she looked down to see a gloved hand cupping her breast and the cane still wedged between her legs.

She shook her head frantically as her body began to convulse with her sobs. "No, oh Goddess, no!" Willow threw her head back and screamed frantically, hoping than someone, anyone would hear her. A strong hand tangled into her hair at the crown, pulling her head forward. The sharp sting of a slap silenced her screams and Willow hung her head down in defeat, bitterly swallowing her tears. There was little or no chance that anyone would hear her screams. If Spike was even looking for her, he would probably never find her, and without at least her magic, she was defenseless. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and felt, more than saw, the dark figure disappear into the shadows of the tunnel.

~*~

Giles had closed down the store and spent most of the afternoon reorganizing his living quarters after Spike's foray. The room looked as if it had been hit by a small tornado; everywhere there were books. Boxes and overturned chairs were strewn about, and the table now resembled a pile of firewood. Ignoring his own pain, Giles set about the task or organizing his small living space. He was unconcerned with his injuries; he'd had much worst, and had survived much worst, in the past year. Still, the effort of picking up each book and placing it back on its shelf seemed like a monumental task with his restricted movements.

His task completed, and after ensuring that Xander had departed and would not be returning any time soon, Giles removed the trap door hidden behind a stack of boxes in the far corner of the basement. The door had been part of the original building and led to the maze of underground tunnels that extended across the town of Sunnydale. The tunnels, once frequently used by the vampire population as lairs and a way to move about town during the daytime, had been abandoned ever since the vampires had gained access to the daylight.

It made him angry every time he entered the tunnels, that he who had dedicated his entire lifetime to fighting demons, was now reduced to scurrying around sewers and subterranean tunnels like a rodent, and it was that anger that had sustained him and had fueled his research during the past year.

With the help of a flashlight, Giles navigated the by now familiar tunnels until he reached a small alcove deep beneath the graveyard. It was there that Giles had hidden his best books, volumes of magic that he had kept on the high shelves of the Magic Box, the "not for sale" shelves. After the vampires had taken over the town, he had managed to keep those volumes hidden, and then had started the slow process of moving them, one by one, to the secret subterranean alcove where he had continued his search for a means to reverse the vampires' control over the town.

While keeping Xander distracted by dazzling him with pop magic and supplying him with potions that were mostly the mystical equivalent of snake oil, Giles had spent every available hour researching the strange occurrence that had mysteriously granted vampires immunity to sunlight.

Giles lit the small gas lamp he kept next to his stack of books and took out his research notebook. It had not been an easy task, having little or no information with which to start, but he had narrowed down the possibilities to three spells. Any of them could be the culprit, so he had researched counter spells for each. Obtaining the materials necessary for each spell under such restricted circumstances had been a much more difficult matter, but he had managed. Using his limited resources and the few reliable contacts he had left, he had been able to gather almost everything needed and hidden each item in his secrete alcove. Now, it was just a matter of finding someone with enough power to cast the complicated spells.

He meticulously went over his notes, rereading each passage and adding additional notes on the margins of the pages as ideas came to him. It was all busy work and he knew it; without a witch on his side, all his research was not worth the paper on which it was written. Unfortunately, humans with mystical powers had been the first target of the vampires; all the witches and wizard he knew had been either killed or were now loyal servants to the most powerful vampires.

The reappearance of Willow and Spike in town had added new complications. Willow could be the answer to his prayers, or the one element that could bring all his carefully laid out plans tumbling down. She was certainly strong enough to work the spells, but something in her relationship with Spike was amiss; Giles had known it the moment he saw them. The fact that Willow had been freely practicing witchcraft until the day before arriving in Sunnydale, her remarkably healthy appearance in contrast to the last time he had seen her a year earlier, and the mysterious reactivation of Spike's chip were all things that didn't add up. Willow was just too close to Spike, and thus too much of a risk.

Giles had survived this long by not drawing attention to himself, and the further away he stayed from Willow, the better chance that he would remain invisible. Spike could not be fooled as easily as Xander. While the slayer and the others had come to regard Spike as little more than an annoyance, Giles had never lost sight of how cunning and dangerous the vampire could be. His presence also put a deadline on Giles plans; he could only string Spike along for so long before the vampire caught on to Giles' game.

A noise caught the ex-watcher's attention, causing him to look up from his books and abandon his reverie. The sound reached him again, a little louder this time, but distorted by the echo of the tunnels. It sound resembled the wailing of an animal. Giles frowned, while rats and cockroaches abounded in the tunnels, he was not aware of any animals living underground that could make such a loud noise.

Closing the books, Giles stood up, reaching for the stick he sometimes used as a cane for support. He slowly made his way through the tunnels, trying to follow the distorted, intermittent sound. As he came closer to the source, he could discern that the sound was definitely human, not an animal, as he had first anticipated, and he heard a voice he could not identify, but that sounded familiar. This created a sense of urgency in the watcher as he moved as fast as his limp would allow toward the general direction of the sound.

Suddenly, the sound stopped and Giles leaned against a nearby wall to rest, listening for a resurgence of the noise. What he heard were small, pitiful whimpers, like someone quietly sobbing. With some effort, he pushed away from the wall and continued to walk, his steps more stealthy as the sound grew nearer.

When he reached a bend in the dark corridor, he leaned forward and looked around the corner, sure that the sounds had been coming from a spot just on the other side of the bent. Giles startled and almost rushed forward when he saw Willow, her hands bound and suspended from the ceiling. A cursory visual inspection of the small chamber, which was similar to the one in which he conducted his covert research, told him that the girl was alone. Whomever she had been talking to a few minutes prior had departed. He could not tell from his vantage point whether or not she was conscious, but it was obvious that she was hurt. She hung from the ceiling, her legs slacked and her head bowed. At that moment, Giles had to make the hardest decision of his life. He turned around and walked back the way he had come.

~*~

A shuffling sound reached Willow's ears and she slowly lifted her head, but didn't have the strength to look to the side to see who or what was approaching. She wondered how long she had been in this place, a day maybe, but it felt longer than that. It would help gage the passing of time if she could tell whether it was day or night outside, but she decided that it really didn't matter. Spike had not come looking for her, Tara didn't know where she was, and was in no position to help her even if she knew, Xander didn't care and Giles probably didn't even know she was missing. Willow knew that she could not hang on much longer, and her one regret was that her friends, the ones in her world, would never know what had happened to her.

She felt a sharp jab to her ribs and managed to turn her eyes.

"You awake, girlie?" The large vampire who had bitten her earlier, the one named Rick, asked her.

Willow nodded and swallowed hard, wincing at the pain that the small movement had caused her. She felt the other vampire standing behind her, making a sniffing noise.

"Her blood smells good, bet it tastes good too," he commented.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Tom, to shut up about it!" Rick yelled. He turned his attention back to Willow. "We asked around about the vampire you were talking about, the one named Spike."

At the mention of Spike's name, Willow's eyes shot up and she felt a spark of hope.

"WoooHeee! Mean motherfucker that one!" Rick continued. "Saw him at the Bronze; falling down drunk and could still fight off three vampires twice his size!"

Willow felt a twinge of anger rise in her chest. Spike had gone out drinking and dancing instead of looking for her. She wasn't certain if she was angry at him or at herself for putting her hopes in him. Still, the vampires were too stupid to figure out that Spike didn't care what happened to her, they might still think that he was looking for her.

"Does that mean you are letting me go?" Willow asked weakly.

"Can't do that. Boss says you stay, that he'll take care of Spike."

Tom spoke up from behind Willow. "I don't care what the boss says, I say we should put her back where we found her and skitter out of town!"

"Tom, shut up!" Rick yelled.

"I ain't shutting up this time. Didn't you see the way that Spike fellow ripped that other vampire's heart out with his bare hands!? I sure don't want to cross that one! My heart might not be beating, but I like it where it is!" Tom protested.

Rick frowned. "The boss is mean too. Do you want to be the one to tell him that we gave his toy back?"

"No! We don't tell him. That's why we skit'!"

"Tom, shut up, and I mean it this time or I'll be the one to dust you!"

Tom seemed to relent, and he went to sit on the ground a short distance away. Willow's hopes, which had been raised by the argument she had overheard, sank as she saw the small vampire walk away.

Rick pulled a bottle from one of the pockets of his jacket. "Boss says we give you water."

He opened the bottle and brought it to Willow's lips. She drank greedily, thinking that she would probably die faster if she refused to take any liquids, which was a good thing under the circumstances, but not able to ignore her thirst. She stopped drinking when the vampire leaned closer to her, his eyes boldly raking over her naked body.

"You know, Tom. The girl ain't that ugly; don't think the boss would mind if we have us a little fun with her."

The other vampire's disposition seemed to brighten immediately at the prospect of having some "fun" with Willow and he jumped to his feet.

"I go first this time!"

Willow could do nothing more than wince, her body immobilized by the staggering waves of pain caused by the slightest movement. The small man wedged his way between Willow's body and the other vampire. He was standing so close that Willow could smell him; he smelled of sewer, cheap liquor and blood, and Willow felt the vomit rising up to her throat. The thought occurred to her that it would serve him right if she would vomit on him; it would be a pitifully small revenge, but the only one that her circumstances would allow her.

As his dirty hands began to tentatively caress her thighs, Willow concentrated on forcing her mind to retreat into itself and ignore what was going on around her. She tried to visualize a small sphere of light in the distance and made that her focus; a method she had learned during meditation. A warm sensation rose through her body, starting at her feet, and as the warmth increased, the light grew stronger, its color shifting to a light pink. Willow frowned in confusion. That had never happened to her before during a meditation.

She thought that it had something to do with the dizziness she had been suffering, and she allowed herself to sink into the oblivion that her sporadic episodes provided. But the more she concentrated on the feeling, the brighter the light became, until it was shining a bright, dark red. The warmth she had felt changed suddenly into a raging inferno that burnt her chest and sought release. The sensation was unfamiliar, and she was starting to panic when she realized that a feeling was attached to the fire, a feeling that she easily recognized as strong anger.

As the sphere of light she had visualized suddenly burst into a ball of red fire, Willow lifted her eyes to stare her tormentor in the face. She saw the vampire's eyes widen in surprise a second before she screamed, "Get away from me!"

The small vampire went flying through the air, his limp body crashing against the wall and crumpling to the ground like a rag doll. For a second, Willow was confused. She had not intentionally commanded him away from her; her scream had been an instinctive reaction to not wanting to be touched by him. In her confusion, Willow didn't notice when the larger vampire advanced toward her, his hand raised high in the air and ready to strike against her. It was only when she heard a cracking noise, followed by the man's howl of pain, that Willow turned to see the man down on the ground, kneeling on one knee.

"You won't be needing this anymore, mate."

Willow's eyes shot up to see Spike standing over Rick, holding the other vampire's hand back at an impossible angle. He sharply bent the hand forward and Willow heard a second crack. She guessed correctly that Spike had broken a second bone on the man's hand. The large vampire swung at Spike with his free arm, and the impetus carried both men down to the ground. Willow saw that the second vampire was quickly recovering. She felt certain that Spike could take both vampires, but if he didn't ... The thought sent Willow into another panic and she instinctively threw her head back, ignoring the pain in her neck and shoulders, to look at the rope that bound her hands.

"Release!" She ordered, and the knot in the rope untied. Willow dropped to the ground with a loud thud, her legs too weak to support her and her arms too numb to be of any assistance in breaking her fall. Once on the ground, there was nothing else that Willow could do except watch the fight between Spike and the other vampires.

Because of the difference in size, Spike was at a disadvantage while on the ground, trying to hold the other down and hit him at the same time. He agilely jumped to his feet, bringing his leg up and striking against the other's face each time the large vampire tried to follow him up. When the smaller vampire rushed at him, Spike spun around, hitting the small vampire across the chest with his arm and sending him slamming against the wall a second time. Spike allowed the force of his spin to carry him around and he brought his leg up, kicking the other down on the floor.

In only a few minutes, both vampires lay unconscious on the ground, and Spike rushed to Willow's side. She felt strong arms lifting her and she whimpered slightly, but allowed Spike to hold her to him. She saw an expression of renewed anger flash across his face when he noticed the bite on her neck. Lowering Willow gently to the ground, Spike strode over to the two vampires, lifting them easily by the neck of their shirts and shaking them until they were awake. His gaze shifted between the two vampires, who were looking at each other with scared expressions.

"Which one of you bit her?" He ground out in a deceptively quiet tone.

Tom, the smaller vampire, pointed a finger at his partner. "He did it!"

Spike tossed the larger vampire to the ground and turned to Tom with a smile. "Good boy! Today is your lucky day."

Tom grinned up at Spike for a moment before the blond vampire produced a stake from his back pocket and drove it through the stunned vampire's heart. As Tom disintegrated into dust, Spike turned his sight on Rick, still laying on the floor in a heap.

"You and I are going to spend some time together, mate," he said with a grin.

Rick tried to scramble out of his reach, but Spike stopped him by slamming his booted foot on the vampire's head.

Willow began to sit up, still dazed and in pain.

"Hang on, luv. Take it easy." Spike looked up at a spot behind Willow. "Can you help her back? I have some business to attend to here," Spike added, motioning toward the vampire on the floor.

Willow cranked her neck to look around and was surprised to see Giles slowly walking toward her. He held a blanket in his hands and offered it to Willow. Once she had thrown the blanket over her shoulders, covering her body the best she could, Spike and Giles helped her to her feet.

Willow and Giles walked slowly down the maze of tunnels. Willow clung to Giles arm and allowed him to guide her as she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her feet. Behind them, she could hear the blood-curdling screams of the vampire that had bitten her. She was still feeling a tingling sensation traveling up her body, and although she was sore and tired, she felt somehow strangely energized. Her mind, however, was still trying to process everything that had happened.

"Giles, how did Spike find me?"

"I called him and told him where you were."

Willow mulled Giles answer in her head. She frowned in concentration. "How did you know where I was?"

When she heard no answer, she looked up to see the ex-watcher nervously avoiding her eyes. They arrived at a small door in the wall and Giles held it open for her. "Through here," he instructed.

Willow nodded and stepped through the narrow doorway. Giles followed her with some difficulty, setting down his cane and hoisting himself over the threshold. Willow was surprised to find herself in the basement of what used to be The Magic Box.

"I had forgotten the entrance to the tunnels! But, what were you doing in there? I mean, in the underground tunnels? That is how you found me, right?"

"Don't speak, Willow. By the looks of you, you've been through quite an ordeal. Lay down and rest. Are you injured in any way?" Giles pulled down a blanket on the cot and fluffed the thin pillow for Willow while he talked. When he concluded, he motioned for Willow to lie down.

Willow blushed furiously at the man's question. She was certain that there were welts and possibly cuts along her entire backside and the back of her upper thighs, but her muscles were also sore, her arms numb and her legs weak, so she lay down on the cot and momentarily closed her eyes. Despite her physical injuries and emotional trauma, Willow found that she felt remarkably well under the circumstances. The physical pain was already decreasing, and a kind of tingling energy was coursing through her body. Her eyes snapped open as the memory of the events in the tunnel, just before and right after Spike's arrival, entered her mind. She turned on her side to look at Giles.

"Giles, I used my magic! I mean, it was like my magic, but not really ... it was different, stronger ... it was kind of, like, wow ... you know," she said excitedly.

Giles frowned as he poured a glass of water from a pitcher and handed it to her. "No, Willow, I don't know. What, exactly, do you mean, different?" He pulled up a chair and sat next to the cot.

"It was ... It was like I didn't even try. I mean, before I even thought about it, this vampire went flying through the air, and all I had to do was command the ropes to come untied and they did. It was like a 'my will be done spell,' except not quite, and I didn't cast that spell anyway, and I could feel all this energy rushing through my body, building up and then, whoosh, it released and I can still feel it! What do you think it is?"

The ex-watcher looked down at his hands as if deep in thought. When he looked back to Willow he said, "I don't know," and stood, turning his back to her.

Willow's face fell. "Aren't you even curious? Why aren't you pulling books out from your shelves and looking things up? You know, like you always do," she asked in a small voice.

Willow thought she heard Giles chuckle ruefully but he didn't answer; he continued to stare at a spot on the wall, away from her. As she watched the man's back, Willow pondered the differences between this Giles and the man she knew back in her world. Her Giles would never pass up an opportunity to research an unexplained mystical phenomenon. Whatever had happened to the Giles in this world, whatever he had been through, had apparently broken the man to a point beyond caring about anything but existing from day to day - and yet, he had helped her, he and Spike had saved her.

"Giles, can I ask you a question?" She asked tentatively.

Giles glanced over his shoulder distractedly, as if her question had interrupted his train of thought.

"Huh? ... Oh, yes, of course. What is it, Willow?"

"What happened here? What happened to you, to Xander, to Tara ... the others?"

The man turned around to look down at her, a confused expression on his face. "I don't understand your question. There's really not much to tell, you were there."

Willow swallowed hard. She had seen first hand some of the devastating consequences of her spell, but the masochist in her wanted to know everything - she needed to know what had happened to this people to make them so dead inside.

"Giles, please humor me. What happened?"

Giles adjusted his glasses and looked up, as if the peeling paint on the ceiling could provide him with the recollection of long-lost memories.

"It was shortly after we defeated that singing demon that Xander had summoned ..."

He paused and looked at Willow, and she nodded to indicate that she remembered that much.

"Reports of vampire attacks in broad daylight started to appear. At first, it seemed like a freak occurrence, the work of a single group of vampires who could walk in daylight. We were concentrating our research on past similar instances, like the Gem of Amara, mystical amulets that grant special powers, that sort of thing ..."

Willow narrowed her eyes. Until that moment, she had assumed that people's memories in this dimension would be vastly different from her own. She distinctly remembered the incident with the singing demon to which Giles was referring - it had happened only two days prior in her world - she also remembered the Gem of Amara, and it sounded like Giles was surprised that vampires were walking in the daylight.

"... But soon, the incidents started to increase at an alarming rate. After Buffy was attacked by a vampire walking down the park in the middle of the afternoon, we decided the best course of action was for all of us to gather at a single, safe location while we could figure out a solution. We came here, you erected the barrier ..."

Willow raised her hand, halting the other's spotty account. She frowned in concentration, trying to correlate the information he had given her with what she already knew.

"So, what you're saying is, that before that day ... everything was normal? That's the way you remember it?" She asked.

Giles removed his glasses and went through the motion of cleaning the scratched lenses.

"Well, I wouldn't say that the life of a slayer falls under the accepted definition of normal..."

"I know, I know. There was slayage, demons, vampires ... but not vampires that walked in the daylight, no vampire-run town of Sunnydale?" Willow interrupted.

"Yes, that is correct," Giles indicated, replacing his glasses.

Giles' gaze narrowed, and Willow suspected that he thought her insane and was merely humoring her by recounting the events. If she had understood him correctly, according to the memories of everyone in this place, their lives had been parallel to those of their alternates in her world, up to the time when she had cast the spell. It made sense, Chishleen had not tricked her, Willow had misunderstood the purpose of the spell! She had not specified that she wished only Spike to walk in the daylight, instead she had asked that "darkness" be allowed into "light." Since bending the natural course of an entire dimension was beyond the deity's power, a replica of her world had been created and creatures of darkness granted passage into the daylight.

"The spell!" She whispered in shock.

"Yes, that's what we suspected at the time. We were concentrating our search on identifying the type of magic used and finding a counter spell. But not knowing who had performed it and which spell they had used, it was an almost impossible task."

As she listened absently, she tried to picture the horror the man had felt at waking up one morning and realizing that his entire existence had changed - the horror they had all experienced- just because she had recklessly rushed into doing a spell. Tears ran down her face.

"A Summoning of Chishleen Spell." Willow whispered sheepishly.

"Yes, that was one of the possibilities. Someone summoning Eshu was another, but not likely a strong enough spell. Guoydian magic was far more likely, and certainly strong enough for a spell that would have consequences of this magnitude, but it's also even more rare than someone summoning Chishleen. To my knowledge, Guoydian has not been summoned in centuries - although there is always a possibility. There is also ..."

Giles had walked back to the chair and taken a seat. Willow listened as the watcher ran down the list of possibilities, discarding the impossible, narrowing down to the plausible while searching for the probable, in the same way she had watched him do dozens of times over the years. If she closed her eyes and only listened, it was as if she was back home at one of their routine research sessions. Willow imagined for a moment that when she opened her eyes, she would see all her friends around her: Anya by the cash register, cheerfully counting the day's profit, Xander smiling at her, crumbs from a doughnut clinging to his lips, Buffy moving around the room, radiating strength and energy, Dawn sitting at a corner pretending to concentrate on her homework ... and Spike, yes Spike would probably be there too, looming over them, dark, defensive and ... Willow didn't want to think about Spike.

She opened her eyes and stared silently at the man in front of her instead. Giles was talking as if he was still trying to figure out what had caused the changes in this world, and he had written off her whispered confession as just one of several possibilities. Realization dawned on Willow - the watcher didn't know! But if all the events in the two universes had been parallel, up to the time that vampires starting walking in the daylight, then the Willow in this world should have cast the same spell she did. If she knew the cause, why hadn't she told Giles? Maybe, together, they could have figured something out. Why had she allowed this to happen?

Deep inside, she knew the reason why. Because she had been too sure of herself, because magic made her feel invincible, because she wanted her friends to think that she was infallible. Willow would have never confessed her mistake, she would not have asked for help. She would have tried to undo the damage herself, and Willow was certain that she could have. Something must have stopped her; she must have run out of time.

Willow wrung her fingers nervously. She couldn't change the decisions her alternate had made, but she could at least give Giles the hollow solace of knowing what had happened. He had a right to know. She stared down at her shoes, trying to steel her resolve.

"Giles. I have to tell you something."

The man stopped his reverie and looked at Willow inquisitively, leaning slightly forward in his chair.

"What is it, Willow?" He sounded concerned, and his compassion for her only poured salt into the festering wound of her guilt. Giles had always been protective and understanding with her; she wondered if he would still feel the same way after he heard what she had to say.

"It was a spell. I summoned Chishleen and caused this ... all of this to happen."

It seemed to take a moment for the meaning of her words to sink into the man's mind, as he stared at her opened mouthed, his eyes narrowed. Finally he spoke, his voice shaking with shock.

"Dear God, Willow, why didn't you say something?!"

They held each other's gaze for a minute, Giles anxiously expecting an answer, Willow trying to decide how much she could safely tell the ex-watcher. A scraping noise startled them both and they turned their heads to see Spike entering through the trap door. The intensity in his eyes took Willow aback, and Giles immediately stood from the chair and moved away from the cot where Willow lay.

Spike's eyes still shone with speckles of yellow, and Willow thought for a moment that she saw his hands tremble before he clenched his fists. She looked worriedly at Giles as Spike strode towards her, but the ex-watcher was facing away from her, his attention once again fixed on the wall. Without a word, Spike reached out and ripped the blanket from her body.

"Hey!" Willow protested weakly as she scrambled to take the blanket back, but Spike tossed it to the floor, out of her reach. Left with no other recourse, Willow attempted to cover herself with her hands.

Spike's eyes traveled the length of Willow's body, inspecting every visible inch of her skin. When he was satisfied, he grabbed her by the arm and unceremoniously flipped her onto her stomach. Willow heard him hiss when he saw the cuts and bruises on her thighs and buttock, but she was too afraid to turn around to look at is face.

"Who was it?" His voice was deceptively low and gentle, but Willow knew that his rage was barely contained. Willow hoped that when it was finally unleashed, it wouldn't be at her.

"I don't know. I never saw his face."

Willow expected Spike to ask for details about what the man she had not seen had done to her, and she buried her face into the pillow - she didn't think she could answer his probing questions. Instead, she felt his hands on her shoulders and found herself once again laying on her back, looking up at him. The impact of the cot against her bruised back-side made her wince, but she did not dare protest when she saw the murderous expression on Spike's face.

"That's what the vampire kept saying, you know, between the sobbing and the begging, but I didn't believe him." Spike smirked and Willow looked away from him.

"I'm not lying Spike. Why would I lie about this? I never saw his face. He was dressed all in black, his hands were covered by gloves, he wore a black hood over his head and he never spoke to me. Not a word."

Willow started sobbing; the recollection of what she had been through, and not even knowing the identity of the person who did it to her, was too much to endure at the moment. Spike sat next to her on the cot and put his arms around her.

"I believe you, Pet. I'm just angry, that's all," he told her in a soothing voice, his demeanor suddenly changing.

Willow had started to relax when she felt his hand graze possessively over her hip and heard his next words.

"Did he touch you?"

Willow looked up to his face, both embarrassed and confused by his question. "Wha ... what?!" She managed to stammer. She didn't like the way his hands were freely roaming over her body, as if he had every right to touch her, or the way his burning eyes followed the trail of his hands, as if he was imagining another's hands on her.

"I asked, did he touch you. Did he put his hands on you the way I'm doing right now?"

His tone left no room for argument and she knew that he expected an answer whether she wanted to give one or not. She lowered her eyes to the sheet covering the cot and nervously picked at the worn and faded fabric.

"I don't know ... I think he did ... I'm almost sure, but don't really know." She was blushing furiously. How could she explain what she had felt, what she had thought had happened to her body while her mind was floating away somewhere?

His hand had stilled and Willow could feel him staring at her. "How the bloody hell can you not know?"

Willow was starting to feel cornered. She didn't want to tell him, she didn't want to discuss it with him, or anyone else. What right did he have to ask her these questions anyway? The way she saw it, it was none of his business. He had helped her, and for that she was grateful, but it didn't give him the right to pry into the events that had taken place while she was held prisoner. She tried to deter him with words.

"Spike, I just don't know. I'm ok now; can we just leave it at that?" She implored.

Willow felt strong fingers grasp her chin and force her face up. "Did you like it?" He ground out. "Is that why you're protecting him, why you won't tell me what he did and who he is? Answer me, Willow, and think very carefully about your words."

Willow's eyes widened and her unbelieving gaze locked with Spike's hard one. She tried to pull away from him, shaking her head.

"No, no. Spike, please don't ..."

She tried to get up from the bed and reach for the blanket, but he roughly grabbed her arm and threw her face down on the bed, hard enough to cause his chip to send a slight jolt through his brain.

"Funny, luv, that's not what you were saying the other night." Spike said close to her ear, but loud enough for Giles to hear. Willow's face flushed with color and tears gathered at her eyes.

"Spike, please, I didn't ... I didn't ..."

Spike smirked. "Oh, but you did, Pet, and you were so good. If you can fake it that good, you should consider going pro, Red." Willow raised her head to look at him and saw his eyes looking appreciatively at her marred buttocks. "Maybe I'm not demon enough for you, Pet, maybe you like it rougher," he added.

Willow clenched her fists and pushed herself away from bed, anger rising in her like a tidal wave.

"Fuck off, Spike!" She spat the words at him and both Spike and Giles were momentarily stunned by the woman's reaction.

When she leaped from the bed and tried to make a dash for the stairs, Spike launched forward and reached for her arm. Willow swung around, instinctively raising a protective hand in front of her. Without any warning, Spike went flying trough the air to land on the floor a few feet back.

"Bloody hell! Willow stop!"

Willow could not understand what was happening to her; she had been hurt by Spike's stinging words, but she had not been prepared for the eruption of anger that her hurt had produced. She ignored Spike's command and ran blindly for the stairs, just as Xander reached the bottom step. A small yelp escaped Willow's lips as Xander easily stopped her with one arm and swung her around to face Spike, who had jumped to his feet.

Willow twisted in Xander's arms, turning her head back to look at his battered face. She fleetingly wondered what had happened to him; his face looked like it had been on a head-on collision with a truck! But her concerns about Xander disappeared, and she renewed her struggles when she saw Spike advancing towards her. She heard Xander's voice behind her.

"What the hell happened?"

Spike pointed an accusatory finger at Willow, and she was surprised to see a tentative smile twist his lips. "Bloody witch just sent me flying through the air."

He advanced toward her, a smirk on his face, until his body was less than a foot away from her. Willow felt claustrophobic when she realized that she was trapped between two vampires. She watched, mesmerized, as Spike raised a hand and rested it on his chest, sliding it suggestively down to his abdomen.

"Kind'a made me tingle inside. Do it again, Pet."

Willow stopped struggling and glared at Spike, trying to concentrate on freeing herself from the vampires. When nothing happened, Willow's confidence faltered.

"Oh, come on, Red, you know I like it rough," he goaded her.

Willow realized he was testing her and she didn't know what to do. Her ability to use her powers seemed to be fluctuating. A moment before, she had knocked a vampire on his ass; now she wasn't sure she could float a pencil if she tried.

When Spike brought his lips closer to her mouth, she tried to back away, but succeeded only in pressing her body closer to Xander's, who stood behind her. Her eyes widened and she gasped when the younger vampire viciously tangled his fingers into the hair at her nape, forcing her head to remain still.

Spike smiled at Xander over Willow's shoulder, apparently approving of the other's initiative, before bringing his lips down hard on Willow's. Willow whimpered and then gasped as she became aware of the hard body pressed against her back. One of Xander's arm was wrapped against her midriff, effectively immobilizing her arms, while his other hand tugged firmly on her hair. Spike was in front of her, his tongue pushing insistently against her lips. She was terrified, but at the same time, and for reasons that she could no comprehend, all sorts of erotic images were running through her head. She was acutely aware of her state of undress, and closed her eyes in mortification. These were vampires, demons, evil creatures, she should be watching her life flash before her eyes, not having "bad" thoughts!

When his mouth left hers, Spike's expression was sad. "Have I ever hurt you, Red? Why did you run from me?"

Willow was contrite; Spike had saved her life, and their current circumstances were her fault, after all.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in a small voice.

He stood back from the girl and raked his eyes over her body. "Good, Red. Then tonight you can show me how sorry you are!"

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