Good Intentions

Author: Aileen E.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
 

~Part: 11~

Spike watched as Willow walked up the stairs, her steps heavy, clutching the blanket protectively around her body. Xander followed close behind her, and Spike frowned when the boy put a hand on Willow’s shoulder. The gesture seemed innocent, the first civil act from Xander toward Willow since they had arrived, but the familiarity of it did not sit well with Spike. Willow had a history of close friendship with the Xander in their world, and it wouldn’t do for her to start turning to the boy for comfort. Spike dismissed the thought when he recalled the reason why he had remained behind; he wanted to talk to the ex-watcher alone.

"Wait for me in the car, I’ll be out in a bit," Spike said to the pair as they reached the top of the stairs.

He turned around and found Giles with his back turned, busily rearranging a shelf of books as if the events of moments earlier had never happened. Spike’s eyes narrowed suspiciously on the man; it wasn’t like the Giles he knew not to meddle into other people’s business. Seeing the ex-watcher acting so meek and compliant made Spike nervous. Something wasn’t adding up, but things in this world were different, maybe the man had just given up – which didn’t explain the matter of how Giles had known where to find Willow.

After leaving the shop, Spike had spent the remainder of the previous day, and most of the night, trying to find Willow. He had searched every bar and had questioned every demon he had come across. Most seemed to know him and were very cooperative, even sympathetic, but none had been able to supply him with any useful information. A few were new in town and Spike had needed to use more persuasive methods with those individuals, but the results had been the same. Several hours and just as many bottles of booze later, Spike had returned to the mansion to find the phone ringing, and Xander and Tara nowhere in sight. The watcher had been vague, saying only that he had some information regarding Willow’s whereabouts, and to meet him in the tunnels. Spike wondered where the information had come from, and how it was that the crippled ex-watcher had succeeded where all of Spike’s efforts had failed. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on Giles, but at the moment, there were more pressing matters to address.

"What the bloody hell was that about? I thought the potion was supposed to keep Will from using her magic!"

Giles set down the book in his hand and turned around to look at Spike as if he had just become aware of the vampire’s presence.

"It does. But ... well ..." Giles hesitated while he took an inordinate amount of time to adjusted his glasses. Spike raised an eyebrow impatiently.

"Willow’s magic has always been strong, much stronger than Tara’s. The potion acts as a catalyst for a binding spell ..."

Spike’s patience had already been tested to its limit and he had little to spare for the discomfited watcher. He was in no mood for a discourse on the metaphysics of binding spells. "Spare me the metaphysical babble and tell me what I need to know!" He snapped.

Giles cleared his throat. "The binding spell might not be strong enough to completely dampen her magical powers."

Spike’s mouth dropped open. "Are you saying that tomorrow morning I could wake up as a bloody toad?!"

"It’s actually worse than that."

Spike frowned, unable to imagine what could be worst than spending eternity as a vampiric frog.

"Worst how?"

Giles seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "Willow’s drive to express her magic has always been strong. Before ... all this happened, I had some concerns that she was becoming ... reckless. It could be that she is slowly breaking through the binding spell, but I suspect that’s not what is happening; she said the magic felt differently. It could be that she is subconsciously harvesting magic from a source."

"Huh? What do you mean ‘harvesting?’ And what bloody source?"

Giles limped to sit on a chair, absently rubbing his maimed leg. Spike thought worriedly that the man wore the expression on his face that he usually reserved for impending apocalypses. "It would just be my sodding luck that I arrive here just when this world is about to end!" Spike thought.

The watcher seemed oblivious to Spike’s concerns as he continued to speak. "I’ve read that it is possible for a witch to either lend or borrow power, and this is the Hellmouth, there are all sorts of dark forces at play here. Willow could be borrowing power from any of them, to make up for not being able to access her own. She may not even be aware that she is doing it. Have you noticed anything peculiar about her lately? Any behavior that seems uncharacteristic?"

Spike thought about the previous night and how something in Willow had called to his demon, but he was not prepared to share such personal information with the man. He raised an eyebrow.

"You mean like telling me to ‘fuck off,’ to my face?"

Giles cleared his throat and looked around uncomfortably. "Yes, that was certainly uncharacteristic."

A smile crept onto the vampire’s face. "Giles, are you telling me that the witch is going black magic on me?"

Giles frowned at the other’s simplistic interpretation of his words. "Well, I suppose that is a possibility. Yes."

Spike pursed his lips into a sneer. "I guess our little Willow is more resourceful than I thought."

"Spike, this is not something that you should encourage, it is dangerous. There’s no telling what will happen if it continues."

Spike seemed to consider Giles’ words for a moment. "So she gets her knickers in a twist and tosses me around some; if she could do more than that, she would not have gotten herself into the bind she did."

"I don’t know, maybe she is not strong enough yet. Of course, you do understand that this is all speculation on my part. I would need to research further and maybe talk to Willow to give you a more definite conclusion. Perhaps I could talk to her, find a way to..."

Spike cut the other’s words short with a stern look. This change in circumstances presented a whole new realm of possibilities. If whatever energy Willow was using had called to his demon, maybe the opposite was also true, and Willow would start to notice him. On the other hand, it was a risk to have a powerful and pissed off witch on the loose, but one that he was willing to take. In either case, he knew he needed to get the chip out of his brain and soon, if Willow was going to use magic against him, he didn’t want to be a sitting duck.

Spike glared at Giles. "You let me worry about Red, and start working on a way to get rid of the fucking chip in my brain!"

Not waiting for an answer from the man, Spike turned on his heels and strode out of the store. Once outside, his mind started to work on ways that he could control Willow without actually getting rid of her powers. He concluded that if Willow was headed for a stroll on the dark side, then he would just have to be her tour guide. He smiled as he approached the car and saw the woman sitting in the back seat, her head bowed.

"What now?" Xander asked when Spike jumped into the front passenger seat of the car.

Spike shrugged. "We go home."

Xander glanced toward the back seat before pulling out onto the road. "I meant about her."

"Don’t worry, mate. I’ll take care of her."

Xander glanced excitedly at Spike. "Can I watch?"

Spike almost laughed at the hopeful tone in the boy’s voice. Although he had no intention of letting Xander anywhere near Willow, the witch didn’t know that. Maybe it was time he started to instill a little fear into her. He morphed into game face and leaned toward Xander. "If you’re a good boy, I might even let you do more than watch."

Spike sank his teeth playfully into Xander’s shoulder, causing the other to almost lose control of the car. As a trickle of blood soaked into Xander’s shirt, Spike glanced toward the back seat, his teeth still imbedded into the other’s flesh. He saw Willow watching him from beneath lowered lids. When she didn’t look away, Spike drew back slightly and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, savoring Xander’s blood – he almost choked when he saw Willow’s tongue dart out and mimic his action.

Spike quickly recovered from his shock and looked at Xander. "But not today," he added caustically.

He had been merely trying to scare the woman sitting quietly in the back seat. However, Willow seemed anything but scared, confused maybe, but not frightened. Her demeanor both excited and worried him.

Xander looked as if he was going to protest, but a glare from Spike was enough to silence him. They rode in silence the rest of the way to the house. He knew that Xander was not happy about his decision, but the boy would just have to learn to live with it. Spike wanted Willow, not just her body, but wanted her to be his completely, and he wasn’t about to just hand her over to another vampire.

It was close to dawn when they pulled into the driveway of the mansion. Spike still noticed things like that, even if they were irrelevant in this world, habit he supposed. Spike jumped out of the car and opened Willow’s door. When she didn’t react, he reached inside and pulled the reluctant woman out, noticing the silent tears running down her face. Leaning close to her, Spike ran the tip of his tongue over Willow’s cheek, tracing the trail of a tear. She pulled her face away from him, but never looked up. Spike frowned, but decided he would reserve any questions until a later time, when the two were alone.

Spike guided Willow into the house, with Xander walking on the other side of him. The young vampire’s anger and frustration were almost tangible, and Spike swore under his breath. Willow was crying and Xander was angry, and he felt that they were both overreacting. "Living with these two is going to be worst than a bloody soap opera! Maybe Tara will have a fucking nervous breakdown and make my hell complete!" He thought.

Spike turned around to face Xander.

"What?" He asked, confronting the boy’s glare.

Xander avoided his eyes and buried his hands inside the pockets of his pants. "Nothing, I’m tired. I’m going to bed now," he mumbled under his breath.

Spike watched the boy circumvent around them and head for the stairs; what he did not notice was Xander’s side glance in Willow’s direction.

"One down ..." Spike thought. So far, Xander had been a lot easier to deal with than the witch; the hardest part, placating Willow, was still ahead of him. He nudged the woman toward the stairs and Willow started walking on her own accord. Spike was glad that she wasn’t arguing with him, but her passivity worried him. He hoped that the events of the last two days had not been too much for her.

Once inside the room, Willow went straight to the bed and sat with her back against the head-board, the blanket wrapped around her bent knees, her eyes downcast. Spike walked up to her. Despite her contrite demeanor, he felt he had to address the matter.

"What you did today was down right stupid, you know that?"

Spike thought he heard a sob coming from the woman and he cringed inwardly. Screaming and insults he could handle, but he had never dealt well with crying women. Usually, when the waterfalls started, that’s when he killed them, so he wouldn’t have to watch them cry. Except, this time, killing Willow was not part of the plan. He walked up to the bed and placed one of his knees next to her body, bending down to touch her hair.

"Willow, luv, I’m not angry with you – really, I’m not," he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

It was not exactly true; he was very angry with her for betraying him, but he didn’t think that telling her that would make her stop crying. When Willow continued to sob quietly, he had to think of something else.

"I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Before, that was just talk; us demons like to talk big, you know?"

Willow glanced up at him.

"That’s, not, why ... I’m crying"

Her skin was flushed, her face scrunched, and her lips were trembling with barely suppressed emotion. Spike almost felt sorry for her.

"What is it then, Pet. Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you, anything."

Willow turned toward him and held his gaze with hers. "I want the talisman, so that we can go home."

Spike pushed angrily from the bed and went to stand on the other side of the room.

"I can’t give you that! I meant anything else, besides the talisman!"

Willow sat up a little straighter, straightened her legs in front of her, took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. Spike knew that she was trying to be brave; Willow always tried to be brave, even when the deck was stacked against her, even when she didn’t feel so brave. That was another thing he admired about her, her fortitude.

"Spike, I don’t understand why you are doing this. All I did was try to be nice to you, and now I’m trapped in a hellish dimension where I feel that everyone is against me, I’m powerless to do anything, and I don’t understand what is wrong with me."

Spike mulled over Willow’s words for a few moments. This had all started because she had wanted to do something nice for him, he gave her that much, but that had been her mistake, not his – not that he wasn’t grateful. As far as a "hellish dimension," that was a matter of perspective as far as he was concerned. The powerless stuff and everyone being against her, he could understand that; he had been there for the last few months and he knew what a drag it could be. But, he had dealt with it, and so could she. His motivations, he figured were obvious – who would want to go back to the pathetic excuse of an existence he had left behind? He wished he could explain all these thoughts to her – he would have, if he thought she cared.

"Why do you think there’s anything wrong with you, Pet?"

Willow took a deep breath. "My magic seems to come and go, I don’t seem to have any control over it, and I keep having these terrible dizzy spells, where I feel like I’m floating and my thoughts get all confused. And sometimes, I just feel ... strange ... like ... not myself."

Willow blushed and Spike knew she was referring to their lovemaking the previous night. Moving closer to her, he placed his fingers under her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him.

"I’ll ask Giles about the dizziness and your magic, maybe he can find an explanation ... Did you enjoy what we did last night?"

Willow hesitated. "I ... I ..."

"Don’t lie to me, Pet," Spike whispered, running the pad of his thumb over her lip, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

He felt a puff of warm air brush against his finger as she whispered the single word. There was nothing that Spike wanted more at that moment than to kiss her mouth, but she was finally confiding in him, talking to him instead of running away, and he didn’t want to scare her now. Instead, he placed a small kiss on her cheek.

"Then, what’s the problem, luv?"

He moved his lips to kiss her earlobe. Willow scrunched her face and flinched.

"The problem is that ... that ... I shouldn’t have ... you know ... enjoyed it. I mean, I don’t hate you ... I don’t ... but I love Tara ... and the whole I’m gay thing ... and it’s not right, I don’t think ... and could you please not do that."

Spike had continued kissing his way around the woman’s ear and down her neck, while he listened to her nervous chatter and erratic heartbeat. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, he had an effect on her. Dipping his head lower, his pressed his lips to the top of her chest.

"Does this feel wrong?" He murmured against her skin.

"No ... yes ... Well, not really, but it is, you know ... wrong."

A smile curled Spike’s lips as Willow heaved and the flesh of her chest pressed closer against his mouth. Emboldened by her response, Spike nuzzled the fabric over her nipple; he gently took the nub into his mouth and sucked on it for a moment, before letting it slip from between his lips. Willow’s fists were clenched tight on the blanket and her eyes were closed.

"You didn’t answer my question, Will."

His words seemed to snap the woman out of her stupor and she feebly pushed against his head.

"Which ... what ... question?"

"What do you want, Will, besides going home, what have you always wanted?"

Willow frowned and she seemed to be considering Spike’s question carefully. Spike thought he already knew the answer. As far as he knew, Willow wanted two things, she wanted to practice her magic, and she wanted Tara. Spike thought that if he could give her those two things, she might accept him as part of the deal; furthermore, she might not be so reluctant to stay in this world.

"I’m not sure what you mean ... I would like it if people would stop treating me like I’m still a kid that needs looking after ..."

Spike looked up at Willow’s face. "I’ve never treated you that way, Red."

"Oh, not you ... I mean, well, just about everybody else," Willow was quick to specify.

Spike crawled onto the bed, slipping behind Willow and gently moving her hair to one side. When she offered no resistance, he began to kiss her neck, while his hand kneaded her shoulders.

"Tell me Willow, tell me what else you want."

His voice was low and seductive and he could feel Willow relaxing, letting down her guard. He slipped his hands to the front of her body and cupped her breasts, squeezing her nipples into tight points. Willow tensed and tried to move away from him, but he held her firmly in place while he growled a warning in her ear. She relaxed back against him with a sigh of resignation.

"I guess I also want to work on my magic, learn new spells, try out new things – without everyone freaking out and telling me how ‘bad’ I am."

Spike didn’t need to look at her face to know that Willow was pouting. Having spent years studying her expressions, he could almost predict each of them.

She suddenly inflected her voice and added, "Bad, naughty Willow," shaking her finger in the air in a generalized impression of her admonishing friends.

Spike threw his head back and laughed, surprised when the woman in his arms joined him. They both needed the release of tension that a good laugh provided. After a moment, his tone grew serious.

"You could do that here, luv. I would never stop you from using your powers. You could be the most powerful witch in Sunnydale. No one would dare stand against you."

He could tell that his words, along with the teasing motions of his hands on her body, were having the desired effect on the woman, not to mention were sending a myriad of sensations right to his groin. Shifting his legs, he settled Willow more comfortably between his thighs, stretching a leg on each side of her. When she didn’t respond to his statement, he continued to talk.

"Here, Willow, we could both have anything we ever wanted. What do you really have to go back to, Will? Your friends who patronize you, take you for granted, criticize you at every turn?"

"It’s not like that," she protested weakly.

"Isn’t it, luv? Here, together, we could have power. Hell, Red, we could rule this town!"

His hands slipped down to her waist, pulling her closer against him, letting her feel his erection pushing against her back.

"But ... but, I don’t want to rule anyone! I like to make people happy ... I just wish that people were, you know, a little more grateful." She emphasized the last part of her statement.

The hint was not lost on Spike. "Oh, I am grateful, Pet. That’s why I want you to see what your life could be, here with me."

Spike felt Willow tense and edge slightly away from him. He frowned at the back of her head. When she looked back at him her eyes were still moist with tears.

"Spike, you can’t buy me." She said the words so low he barely heard them.

"What do you mean? I’m not trying to buy ..."

He let the words trail, knowing that he wasn’t fooling her. Willow had always been smart; that was one of the things he liked most about her – that, and the way she treated him, like he mattered, like he was someone. Why then, now, when he had found a world where he could truly matter and be someone, had she turned against him?

He swallowed hard. Honesty didn’t come easy to Spike, but with Willow, he knew that it was his best, perhaps his only, hope.

"Willow, I’m in love with you. I’m just trying to give you what you deserve, make you happy, make you want me."

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew it had been a mistake. Willow was staring at him incredulously, her shimmering green eyes narrowed in suspicion.

She shook her head, denying the truth of his words. "Spike, you are not in love with me. Maybe ... maybe you’re infatuated, but not in love ..."

"Why not, because I’m a demon, a monster?"

He didn’t allow Willow to answer; whatever she had to say, he didn’t want to hear it. Roughly shoving the girl, he jumped from the bed. He was already halfway to the door when her voice stopped him.

"Spike, if you really love me, if you want me to be happy, you will let me get Tara and go home."

Her words cut right through him, and had he possessed a soul, they would have ripped right through it as well – maybe because he knew they were true, or maybe because he thought they were so unfair. He thought of a comeback, but anything would have sounded hollow. How could he explain to her that he had nothing to go back to ... that the only thing that could have possibly convinced him to return to his former existence was here with him. He proceeded toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob.

"You’re never going back, so you may as well get used to it!" He spat over his shoulder. "I’m leaving the door unlocked, so you can take a shower and ask Tara for something to wear. I trust you are not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice and try to run away," he added.

Without waiting for an answer and without turning around to see her face, he strode out of the room and down the hallway. Behind him, he could hear the angry screams of the woman and something shattering. He smiled, her wrath he could handle, and she would come around once she saw she didn’t have a choice. Each of his angry steps resonated through the mansion as he descended the staircase, stopping briefly at the main room to pour himself a glass of scotch, and headed for the gardens.

The sun was beginning to rise and Spike looked skyward, remembering when Angelus had first shown him this house. He had hated it then, all the windows, the open garden, the expanses of corridors that allowed the sunlight to travel through the mansion unobstructed, like water through open flood gates. Now he stood in those same gardens, watching the sunlight slowly filter through and finally blanket the grounds as he sipped his glass of expensive scotch and puffed on his cigarette.

The ostentatious home still wasn’t his style, nor was the expensive drink he held in his hand. He had been happy living in the basement of the factory with Drusilla, before Angelus and later the Initiative had torn his world asunder. It angered him that he had been reduced to groveling like a lovesick puppy after a human girl.

"You are alone." The male voice came from behind him, the words more of an obvious statement than a question.

"I thought you would be asleep," Spike answered without turning around. He felt Xander move closer, until he was standing only a couple of inches behind him. A strong hand clamped on his shoulder and he felt the boy’s cool lips on his neck.

"I heard you come downstairs; I don’t understand," Xander whispered.

Spike knew what Xander was talking about, because in a strange way, he felt the same way. "I don’t either, mate," he responded, taking another gulp from his glass. Spike felt the other’s hands slide down his sides, reaching around to rub the bulge in his pants. He allowed the hands to roam freely; this was what he needed, to feel wanted.

"Before you left, you had that little bitch kneeling at your feet licking your boots, literally. What happened?"

Spike’s cock twitched at the mental image of Willow naked, crawling at his feet, begging for his attention, his mercy, his cock. He knew that the Spike that Xander was talking about wasn’t him, but he couldn’t tell him that, so he decided to tell him a half-truth instead.

"I fell in love with her," he confessed as he tossed the spent cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his boot. He felt the other vampire’s body tense and the hand rubbing the front of his jeans tightened around his semi-rigid member.

"And what did that get you, Sire?" Xander continued, his voice low and husky in Spike’s ears. "Before, you used to take her anytime you wanted, anyway you wanted – when I close my eyes, I can still hear her screams as you pounded into every hole in her body, sometimes all night long. What do you do now; ask her nicely to let you lick her pussy?"

The derision in Xander’s voice stung him, all the more because his words were true. He wouldn’t just ask nicely, he would beg her, if he thought that it would make a difference. Propelled by his injured pride, Spike swung around, smashing the half-filled glass of liquor against Xander’s face and sending the boy tumbling backward.

"Shut up! What I do or don’t do with Willow is none of your bloody business!"

Xander’s tongue snaked out to lick a trickle of his own blood from the side of his mouth. "Give her to me; let me break her for you. When I get through with her, she’ll be begging you for it, following you around like a puppy dog, like Tara does to me."

Spike snorted. "Like Tara? You mean half-crazy, locked up naked in a room, staring blankly at things that only she can see? I lived with someone like that for a century, remember? It’s not an experience I fancy duplicating!"

"Will is strong, she can take it," Xander argued, "Besides, what difference does it make, she’ll be yours." A sinister smile twisted his features. "I bet she’ll even like it."

Spike glared at Xander. "What do you know about what Willow likes?"

Spike watched the other carefully, a warning glare in his icy blue eyes. Willow was not a subject that he cared to discuss with Xander, but for some reason he had the feeling that Xander knew something he didn’t, and the thought gnawed at him.

Xander shrugged casually. "Willow and I used to be best friends, we grew up together. I dare say, I know her better than you."

Spike couldn’t deny the truth behind the other’s words. Still, he could not bring himself to simply turn Willow over to Xander. He would kill her himself before he let another man, or in this case vampire, touch her. Just seeing the marks that another had left on her body had made his icy blood boil with rage.

"Or maybe you should turn her. Give me a sister," Xander continued as he walked closer to Spike.

Spike had thought about turning Willow many times – maybe, once he didn’t have the chip in his brain, that would be the solution. But for now, he just had to find another way.

"I do kind of miss having her around, you know. I’ve missed you both," Xander concluded, placing a soft kiss on Spike’s lips.

Spike had missed this, the unconditional acceptance, the feeling that in the eyes of another he could do no wrong. He’d had that with Dru, granted she had been insane, but she had always made him feel wanted – until Angelus had shown up.

Spike bit angrily into Xander’s lip, only to gently lick the blood that flowed from the small wound. Xander responded with a groan and moved closer, letting Spike feel his erection.

"I need time to think – alone," Spike said, pulling gently away from Xander.

The other’s face fell, but he nodded. "My room is the third one to the left at the top of the stairs. If you need a place to sleep."

Spike nodded absently as he watched Xander retreat into the house. Lighting another cigarette, he strolled through the gardens. Maybe Xander was right, his idea that Willow would ever want him was preposterous. Turning her was probably the only way that she would truly be his, if Giles ever found a way to deactivate the chip in his brain.

With a frustrated sigh, Spike put out his cigarette and walked into the house, headed for the staircase. As he neared the end of the second story corridor, his eyes settled on the door to Willow’s room. Deciding that he was not yet ready to face the woman, he went into the bathroom instead.

He stood naked in the shower, letting the water cascade down his body for what seemed like hours. When he stepped out of the shower, he realized that he had been wearing the same clothes for the past two days, and that if he and Willow were going to make this world their permanent home, they would have to get some more clothing. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Spike made a mental note to talk to Xander about it later.

No longer able to postpone the inevitable, Spike headed for the bedroom. He knew the moment he opened the door that Willow wasn’t in the room. One of the windows was shattered, as if someone had thrown a heavy object against it, and the blanket that Willow had been wearing around her shoulders was on the floor. A cursory inspection of the place confirmed his suspicions and Spike clenched his jaw. Surely, the witch was not dumb enough to leave the house again, not after her recent ordeal. But he decided that with Willow, it was hard to predict what she would or would not do. He remembered that he had suggested she see Tara about some clothing. After removing the amulet from his neck and hiding it in a safe place, as insurance that Willow would not attack him and take it, he headed for the witch’s room. Maybe Willow was still there, or maybe Tara had seen her and knew where she was.

He visibly relaxed when he heard Willow’s distinct laughter as he approached the door of Tara’s room. Willow had probably just decided to visit with her girlfriend, and judging by the sound of her voice, her mood had been improved by the company. Spike pushed the door open and entered without knocking. Willow and Tara stood facing each other by the chest of drawers, they were holding hands and laughing. Willow wore a black, silky slip that hung loosely around her body and reached just below her knees; Tara was clutching a blanket around her body. Both women turned to look in his direction when he entered. Willow glanced back at Tara, and they both burst into another fit of laughter. Spike got the feeling that he had walked in on a joke and that the joke was on him. But to see Willow so unabashedly enjoying herself was worth the small humiliation of being the butt of their jest.

"What’s so funny?" He asked, a small smile creeping across his lips.

"Spike, you’re walking around naked," Willow pointed out.

He looked down at himself and shrugged. "So? And I’m not naked, I’m wearing a towel around my waist!" He explained defensively. Willow had not mentioned the missing talisman, and Spike was relieved.

When both women giggled conspiratorially, Spike began to take offense. Willow having a little fun at his expense was one thing, two women laughing hysterically while looking at his body was another!

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you two?" He asked as he closed the door behind him and walked to the bed. He was glad that Willow felt better, it was the first time he had seen her laugh since arriving in this dimension, but her sudden shift in mood disconcerted him.

The two women ignore his question and he watched Tara walk to a small table and pick up a cookie from a tray, quickly taking a bite and running back to Willow as she chewed. Tara offered Willow a bite of the cookie and they both giggled as the cookie crumbled to the floor when Willow bit into it.

With a deep sigh, he sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window, affording the two witches some privacy. Regardless of what Willow said, he knew something was very wrong with Tara. Something in the way she moved, like her feet were not quite touching the ground, and the inconsistency of her expressions reminded him of Dru, without the fangs and the vicious streak. Her next words seemed to corroborate his suspicion.

"Do you want to play?"

Spike’s head turned and he saw that Tara was talking to Willow.

Willow frowned. "Uh ... play? Uh, yeah, sure. Play what?"

Spike snickered. *Well, at least not all the fun is gone from my un-life – this should be interesting!*

Tara opened the blanket and pulled Willow into it, placing a quick kiss on Willow’s lips as she smiled. Willow gasped when Tara leaned forward and kissed her again. This time the kiss lingered. Willow tilted her head and slowly kissed the other woman back, their lips alternately pressing hard and lingering softly against each other’s, their tongues occasionally flickering over each other’s lips.

Spike tilted his head and watched the pair, wishing he could see what their hands were doing under the blanket. He didn’t have to wish very hard. The blanket slipped to the ground and he was surprised to see that Tara was naked. He could see Willow’s hands sliding over Tara’s ribs to cup her breasts. Tara’s hands were on Willow’s ass, kneading the soft flesh. Spike almost choked when the blond witch lifted Willow’s slip and placed her thigh between the other’s legs, encouraging Willow to rub against it. He expected the redhead to protest, but instead she lowered herself onto the proffered thigh, swaying her hips back and forth, soft moans escaping her lips.

When his pretending to cough didn’t get the girls’ attention, Spike raised his hand. "Uh ... Red? ... Willow? Ohhhh Willooooow. You do remember I’m still here, right?"

Willow turned in Tara’s arms to face Spike, smiling playfully at him. Tara took advantage of the opportunity to push down the straps on Willow’s slip, uncovering her breasts. Spike frowned but his gaze drifted to the pale mounds of flesh.

Willow’s lips pursed into an exaggerated pout.

"Oh, look Tara. I think Spikey wants to play too."

Both girls giggled and started to walk toward him.

"Wha ... wha ... what?!"

His frown deepened and he instinctively leaned back, away from the two approaching witches. Too late, he realized he was trapped, with Willow’s thighs pressing his legs firmly against the edge of the bed. Technically, he was not trapped. He could easily push the woman away and scramble out of the bed, but Willow’s breasts were only inches away from his face and he wasn’t sure he wanted to move. Tara was standing flush behind Willow, her arms around the waist of the woman in front. She leaned forward and whispered in Willow’s ears, but loud enough for Spike to hear.

"Spike is a vampire."

Spike exhaled loudly. "And you figured that out all on your own? Well, aren’t you a bloody brainiac!"

Willow freed her arms from the thin straps, letting the slip pool around her waist, and leaned forward to press a finger against Spike’s lips. "Shhhhh, be a good boy, Spike!"

"A good boy?! I’m not the one shagging my girlfriend in front of a bloody audience!"

The two women did not seem offended by his statement. Tara rested her chin on Willow’s shoulder and smiled at Spike. "Willow likes vampires, they make her hot."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Is that so, Pet?"

"Uh-huh. I remember this one time, we played this game where she had me chase her around the room, throw her on the bed, climb on top of her and pretend to bite her neck!"

Spike wondered if the vampire kink was exclusive to the Willow in this world, or if the Willow from his world also shared it; one look at Willow’s wide eyes told him that she knew exactly what Tara was talking about.

Spike chuckled and looked at Tara. "Did she hit you over the head with a lamp?"

Tara laughed and Willow leaned forward to whisper in Spike’s ear.

"No. I did eat her out until she came in my mouth, though." Willow licked his earlobe and moaned in his ear.

Spike felt a tingle of lust travel up his spine and his cock jerked reflexively against the towel.

"Bloody hell, woman! Watch your mouth!" He ground out.

Willow seemed unfazed by his warning. She gave him a lopsided grin and put her hands on his chest. "Why don’t you watch my mouth do this?" She purred as she brought her lips down to his stomach.

Spike bucked slightly and clenched his fist when he felt the tip of her tongue trace circular patterns over is skin. Her warm tongue traveled upward, leaving a wet trail on his skin, to circle around one of his nipples. He was hardly aware of Tara moving to stand behind him, until her soft hands grasped his wrists and pulled his arms above his head, pinning them to the bed.

Her long hair fell around his face as she leaned forward over him, and he turned his head to rub his cheek against the silky curtain. As Willow began to worry his hardened nipples with her teeth, Tara whispered low in his ear. "Willow said you’ve been a bad boy; she said you took her talisman and won’t give it back. I think she should punish you."

Spike’s eyes flew open and he groaned when he felt Willow’s teeth sink viciously into the tender flesh of his nipple. A warning went off in his mind, telling him that he should stop this before it went any further, that something was not right with the scenario – but his erection was by then painfully obvious under the towel he wore around his waist, and Tara’s words had only made it worst. Part of him wanted to know how far the two witches would go and he was almost sure that he could take anything they dished out. After all, he was a demon.

He watched Willow crawl over his body to kiss Tara on the lips and felt the soft, cool fabric of her slip brush against his belly. After a short kiss, Willow pulled her lips away from Tara’s and looked down at Spike, smiling sweetly at him. "I think Spikey wants to be punished." She reached back with one hand and lightly rubbed the length of his shaft over the towel. "What do you say, Spike, have you been a bad boy?"

Spike swallowed hard and nodded, his eyes never leaving Willow’s until he felt Tara release his hands and jump off the bed. He twisted his neck to look behind him and saw Tara excitedly bouncing around.

"I’ll get the toys!" She announced with a wide grin. She practically skipped to the other side of the room, but Willow’s body was blocking Spike’s view and he couldn’t see what she was doing. Furthermore, he didn’t care as his eyes settled on Willow’s body hovering above him. He brought his arms down to caress her back, trying to pull her down as his lips reached for hers. Planting her hands on his shoulders to hold him down, Willow frowned at him.

"Bad boys don’t get to touch, they only get to watch," she admonished.

Spike relented, placing his hands back above his head and nodding his understanding. Hell, if this was the punishment, he could hardly wait for the reward. Angelus would have had him trussed up, with a hot rod shoved up his ass by now, and Drusilla had not been much kinder when she got it into her crazy head that he had been a "bad boy."

Tara returned carrying a small, polished wooden box and flopped down on the bed next to him. She held the box open for Willow to inspect the contents, and he saw Willow pout when, apparently, she didn’t see what she was looking for. Tara twisted her face into an expression of confusion as Willow’s eyes searched the room. Her eyes settled on something near the headboard and she stretched to reach for the item. She produced a length of rope and dangled it triumphantly in front of Tara.

The other woman bounced on the bed excitedly. "Ooh, ooh, I know!"

He offered no resistance when Willow tangled the fingers of her free hand into his hair and pulled him up to allow Tara to slip one end of the rope behind his neck. His head fell back limply on the bed when Willow released him, and he looked up to see Tara’s breasts dangle above his face as she leaned over him to take the rest of the rope from Willow. He couldn’t resist reaching up and wrapping his lips around one of the large, pink nipples. Tara moaned and pushed the breast against his face. He opened his mouth to take more of her flesh in, but nearly bit down when he felt Willow give one of his nipples a sharp, painful twist.

"Let her go!" He heard Willow order, her fingers still tightly clamped on his nipple.

He reluctantly lowered his head back to the bed, but winked at Tara when the woman smiled down at him. Without warning, the towel around his waist was ripped from his body and he felt a sharp sting as Willow stood back and slapped his erect cock with the damp towel. He hissed and pulled his legs up, digging his heels into the bed.

Tara deftly tied the rope around his neck into a slip knot. Spike concluded that the witch must have been taking pointers from Xander. His conclusion was corroborated when she moved to the other side of the bed, next to Willow, and firmly grabbed Spike’s balls in one hand, pulling them away from his body and wrapping the rope around them.

"Xander says you do it like this," she informed Willow matter-of- factly as she tightened the rope around his sac.

The sting on his sensitive cock, combined with the ache and pressure on his balls, was almost enough to cause Spike to cum. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, praying that neither woman would touch his shaft, or he would embarrass himself for sure. Realizing that Tara was pulling on his arm, he opened his eyes and looked at her questioningly. Willow had apparently understood what Tara wanted him to do because the redhead put her hand on his shoulder as she ordered, "Turn around."

Spike complied and gritted his teeth when Tara placed the length of rope between his legs and pulled back and up, yanking on his balls and wedging the rope between his ass cheeks. He could not suppress a moan at the intense sensation of pain and pleasure; Tara laughed throatily and yanked on the rope again, causing his sac to stretch even further and the rough material of the rope to chaff against his asshole. When she asked for his hands, he quickly placed both arms behind his back, burying his face into the mattress.

Once his hands were securely tied behind his back, he heard Tara comment in a chirpy voice, "Leash!".

He twisted around to see what she was referring to, just in time to see her swing the loose end of the rope against his bare hip. Spike flinched, reflexively clenching his buttocks and pushing the rope further in. Willow was looking at him, her lips pressed tightly together as she nodded approvingly. He suspected the woman was struggling to keep from laughing at him.

"Very nice, sweetie. Now, tie the puppy to the bedpost so he doesn’t get away."

Spike pushed himself upward with his legs to avoid having Tara yank on his leash again. Once tied in place, the rope allowed him enough leeway to lay on his side, but not to move around the bed.

He watched as Willow kneeled down on the bed and scooted toward him. "Now there is that business of you sucking on my girlfriend’s tit."

Tara looked up. "Oh, I didn’t mind it!" She piped in.

"Shhh," Willow hushed her, one finger pressed against her pouty lips.

Spike’s eyes widened when Willow brought her other hand around and he saw a delicate silver chain dangling from her slim fingers. Attached to each end of the chain was a shiny, sharp looking alligator clamp. She must have taken the clamps out of the toy box. The mattress dipped as Tara lay down behind him and threw her arm over his body, to pinch and massage one of his nipples. When his nipple was fully erect, she pinched it between her index finger and thumb and pulled on it, holding it out for Willow. Spike leaned back against Tara, bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming. His fingers brushed against the soft curls between the girl’s thighs. He strained further, ignoring the agonizing pain in his balls and the scrapping sensation against his hole, until the tips of his fingers found the girl’s clit.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on massaging the slippery nodule. He gasped audibly when he felt the sharp teeth of the clamp close suddenly on his nipple, but his fingers never lost their rhythm. The agonizing sensation had just started to lessen to a throbbing pain, when Tara started her ministrations on the other nipple, while she panted loudly in his ear. This time, when the little metal points bit into his flesh, he threw his head back and screamed, his hands jerking reflexively. He chocked and groaned as the rope was pulled tout in opposite directions, simultaneously strangling him, pulling on his sac and chafing the cleft between his buttocks.

He opened his eyes when he felt Willow’s soft lips on his. "There, there, almost done, lover," she cooed as she softly kissed his mouth. Spike opened his mouth to kiss her back and she slipped her tongue in slowly, her lips lingering softly against his.

"Just one more thing," she whispered as she pulled away from him.

Spike looked at her questioningly as she moved to the end of the bed to rummage through the contents of the wooden box. She tilted her head and smiled as she reached into the box and pulled out what looked like a short leather strap.

Spike shook his head. "I don’t need that. I’m not some bloody teenager who can’t hold his wad!" He exclaimed indignantly.

She turned cold, menacing eyes on him. "I would shut up if I were you, Spike; I think I saw a gag in there," she advised. Her tone was stern, but Spike thought he saw a mischievous twinkle shining in her eyes. He realized with some uneasiness that Willow was really enjoying herself. At first, he had figured she was mad at him and looking to get even, but as he looked into her eyes, he realized that there was more to this game than just revenge; Willow was having fun!

All thoughts fled his mind and he moaned, straining against the ropes, when Willow wrapped her small hand around his shaft and tightly fastened the cock ring to the base.

"There!" She exclaimed as she stood back to inspect her work. Tara walked to stand behind Willow, her arms wrapped around the other’s waist, and she nodded her approval.

"What do you think, sweetie?" She asked Willow.

Willow smiled and Spike saw a glimpse of the innocent girl he knew. "I think it’s pretty!"

"I think you’re pretty," Tara whispered huskily, looking down at Willow’s breasts.

Spike spent what felt like an eternity watching the two women make love. Pangs of jealousy ripped through his chest as he watched Tara’s hands glide over the redhead’s body, cupping and massaging her breasts, kneading her buttocks, while they kissed each other passionately. He watched, mesmerized as their mouths met and their tongues danced with each other. When Willow laid down, her head toward the foot of the bed and her legs splayed mere inches from his face, Spike strained to sit up as far as his bonds would allow, in order to get a better view. He could smell the women’s arousal and see Willow’s glistening curls and swollen folds open before him.

When Tara laid between Willow’s legs to run her tongue up and down the other’s wet slit, she moved her hair aside and tilted her head in order to allow Spike to see what she was doing. The strain that lifting his upper body caused on his neck, balls, cock and ass was excruciating, but his alternative was to lay quietly on the bed hearing and smelling the women next to him, and not being able to see what they were doing. He figured that agony was a fair tradeoff for the show they were putting on.

Willow’s legs were spread wide and Tara was kneeling between them, her tongue furiously lapping at the redhead’s clit while she slid three fingers in and out of her slippery entrance. Spike intently watched Willow’s face as the woman approached her orgasm. She was massaging her own breasts, roughly pulling on the darkened, erect nipples.

His cock ached and he desperately wanted to touch her, to feel the soft flesh of her breasts in his hands, to taste her, to slip his fingers inside her as far as they would go and suck her juices from them. Willow looked at him through half-closed lids and as their eyes met, Spike involuntarily ran his tongue over his dry lips. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he saw Willow smile knowingly at him. The little witch knew what she was doing to him and she was inwardly laughing about it! Spike clenched his fists and yanked against the ropes, hissing at the bolt of pain that shot trough his genitals. Just then, Willow reached out to grab the chain hanging from his nipples. She pulled on it hard, ripping the clamps off and tearing his skin.

As Willow threw her head back and screamed and moaned through her orgasm, Spike collapsed on the bed, trying to find his own release by rubbing his cock against the sheets. He almost succeeded, except that as his balls tightened and he was ready to cum, the ring around the base of his cock stopped the orgasm and Spike threw his head back and roared in pain and frustration. A mortal man would have passed out by that point, but the demon in Spike was enjoying the torture too much to allow the vampire such an easy way out.

"So, Spikey, how are we doing here?" The mockingly cheerful voice came from above him in harsh pants and Spike opened his eyes to see Willow bending over him, an artificial smile plastered on her face.

"How the fuck do you think I’m doing?!" He spat out.

Willow shook a finger at him, feigning a pout. "You shouldn’t talk to me that way; shame on you, Spike!"

"He ... he ... doesn’t look ... well. I think ... we ... we should let him go." Tara’s hesitant voice reached Spike’s ears from behind Willow.

"Oh, we will sweetie ... just, not yet. Not until you’ve cum."

Willow returned her attention to Tara, sliding two fingers between the woman’s dripping folds. Tara moaned and laid back on the bed, spreading her legs. Spike groaned and buried his face into the mattress; he was sure that Willow would prolong Tara’s pleasure for as long as she could, just so she would have an excuse to make Spike wait.

By the time he heard Tara reach her orgasm and Willow returned to him, there were tears running down his face.

"Oh, poor Spikey! Do you need something?"

Spike nodded, looking at her pleadingly.

"What do you need?" She asked innocently.

Spike swallowed hard. "I need to cum," he finally managed to ground out.

"Hum, what do you think, Tara? Should we let Spikey cum?"

Tara glanced worriedly between Spike and Willow before nodding her head. Spike could tell that Tara was as surprised as he was that Willow had taken the game this far.

Willow rolled her eyes in a gesture of exasperation, but said, "Alright." Then she added with a grin, "But I get to cum first."

With that, Willow waved her hand toward the headboard and whispered the word "release;" the rope quickly untied from the bedpost and Spike rolled onto his stomach with a moan. She repeated her actions, waving her hands over Spike’s back, and the bonds around his wrists came undone.

"You do the rest," she ordered.

With a groan, Spike reached down and fumbled with the rope wrapped around his balls until he managed to untie it. He loosened the noose around his neck and slipped it over his head; but when he reached for the cock ring, Willow smacked his hand away. "Leave that on; I said I get to cum first."

Spike clenched his jaw in frustration and reached for Willow, but he found his arms magically pinned to the bed, above his head. He glanced to the side and saw that Tara had moved to the other side of the room. She was staring at Willow with wide, frightened eyes. He turned his eyes back to glare at Willow.

"Fine, have it your way!" He spat.

When Willow straddled him and lowered herself onto his cock, Spike was grateful that she had left the ring on. She was wet, tight and hot, and he had been holding back his orgasm for over an hour – he didn’t think he could have lasted without the ring. But then again, apparently, Willow herself was close to the edge. He felt her muscles begin to flutter around him after only a few minutes and when she reached down and released the clasp on the ring, all Spike had to do to send them both over the edge was thrust a couple of times.

When they were both spent, Willow collapsed on top of him. Her body was covered with a thin film of sweat and she was breathing heavily.

"Wow, what a rush!" She exclaimed.

Spike chuckled. "I’m there with you, luv."

Tara was still standing immobile at her spot near a corner. Spike motioned to Willow and the woman turned her head around to look at Tara.

"Oh, it’s ok sweetie," she crooned, reaching a hand out to the other.

Tara approached the bed and Willow scooted over closer to Spike to make room for her.

"Next time, you get to play with Spike!" She told the girl with a smile.

Tara and Spike exchanged surprised looks.

"Next time, Will? Does that mean that there will be a next time? Have you changed your mind about ... you know?" Spike asked hopefully.

Willow shot him stern look. "No, I have not changed my mind; it doesn’t mean that I’m not looking forward to enjoying our stay, though."

Spike nodded and pulled a blanket over all three of their bodies, too weary to question Willow any further. Her contradictory answer would have to do for the moment.

~*~

It was several hours later when Spike awoke. He looked down at the mass of red hair pressed against his chest and smiled, running his fingers through the tangled strands. The moment she awoke, he felt her body tense. Large, green eyes looked at him questioningly.

"Spike? What ..."

"Shhhh." Spike pointed at Tara, still asleep behind Willow.

"Oh God ... oh God! What? I didn’t ... oh God, I did."

She looked down at the dry rivulets of blood on his chest and at his bruised nipples. Spike was surprised to see her eyes fill up with tears.

"Oh, Spike, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what came over me! I was angry at you for not letting me go home, and then I came to see Tara and told her I was angry at you ... but I didn’t tell her everything ... just that you had an amulet that belonged to me and you wouldn’t give it back ... she kissed me ... and then, when you walked in ... I don’t know why I did what I did ... I’m so sorry ..." she whispered.

The woman was babbling nearly incoherently and Spike could see an intense blush suffuse her face. He pulled her closer to him and kissed the top of her head. "It’s alright, luv, no harm done. I’m a demon, remember? I tread on the dark side; besides, I’ve had lots worst done to me, believe me," he said casually.

He frowned when he felt the woman’s body shake. He pushed her away slightly to look at her face. "Willow, why are you crying? Really, it’s ok. Hell, it was better than ok. I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance. You did promise me a next time, remember?" He added with a wink, trying to console her.

Willow looked horrified as her eyes shifted nervously between him and the sleeping Tara. She wrapped her arms protectively around her body and looked like she was ready to run out of the room. Spike swore softly under his breath; he should have known that Willow wasn’t fully in control of her earlier actions and that she would regret them later. He should have thought with his head, instead of with ... well, his head. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled Willow to him.

"Shhh, you’re going to wake up Tara. I told you, it’s ok." He felt Willow tremble in his arms.

"It’s not ok! Something is wrong with me, Spike!"

Spike needed to find a way to make Willow understand that it was alright. Maybe getting Willow to give in to these changes in her would convince her to forget her desire to return home.

He wriggled his eyebrows. "You didn’t hurt anyone, Will, and you seemed to enjoy yourself quite a bit."

Willow did not seem convinced. "I hurt you, Spike! And, I used Tara ... Please, Spike. Help me, what’s wrong with me?"

Willow was shaking and he could smell the fear emanating from her. Spike sighed as he realized that Willow was truly terrified by not knowing or understanding what was happening to her. Perhaps releasing some information to her would not hurt.

"Giles did say something about you borrowing magic from a dark source," he said uneasily.

Willow shook her head again and swiped her hands over the fat tears running down her cheeks. "I’m not doing anything, I swear!"

Spike shrugged. "He also said that you might not be aware of what you’re doing. That it might just be an instinctive reaction to losing your powers."

Willow scrunched her face in an expression of disgust and glanced down at herself warily. "You mean there is something in me? Something evil that makes me do these things? Is that what I feel tingling inside me?" She asked, alarm rising in her voice.

Spike shrugged and looked away. He really didn’t understand why Willow was so afraid, it was not as if she was new to magic, and he didn’t think that she was that evil. She had not tried to kill anyone, at least, not yet.

"I have something evil inside of me and I’m ok," he pointed out dismissively.

Willow glanced at Tara and lowered her voice. "Spike, you have to let me talk to Giles. I need to know what’s going on."

Spike clenched his jaw and looked at the ceiling, carefully considering her request. He really didn’t want the ex-watcher meddling into his affairs where Willow was concerned. He didn’t trust him, and he didn’t want anything to interfere between him and Willow, not when things were just starting to go his way. But he understood Willow’s need to know more about what was happening to her. He reasoned that maybe once she understood her new powers and learned to control them, she would not be so upset.

"Fine, I’ll take you to talk to the watcher. But Will, don’t make me regret it," he finally said, his eyes almost pleading with her.

Willow only stared back and nodded. He wasn’t sure whether she was agreeing or if she merely approved of his decision. He hoped it was both.

~Part: 12~

Willow crawled backward from the bed, her moves slow and controlled so that she wouldn’t wake up Tara. She was having a hard enough time dealing with her own emotions and confusion at the moment, she didn’t know what she would say to the already confused woman. Spike followed her off the bed, offering her the black slip she had borrowed from Tara the night before when he noticed her trying to cover her nakedness with her arms.

As for his own state of undress, Spike seemed unconcerned. She watched him move toward her, the little slip of fabric dangling from his fingers, and she could not help but admire the beauty of his body. He was all muscled flesh and sinewy tendons, rippling with each step he took. Willow swallowed hard as her eyes settled on the flaccid appendage hanging between his legs; even soft, it exuded power and masculinity, and her thoughts drifted, remembering how it had felt, hard and silky in her hand, strong and searing inside her, stretching her, filling her...

"Oh, Goddess!" She whispered as she snatched the undergarment from Spike’s hand and hurriedly pulled it over her head.

"Like what you see -- do you, Red?"

Willow pulled the slip down over her body and looked up to see Spike standing in front of her, a knowing smirk on his face. She shook her head, not in answer to his question, but in an effort to deny what was happening to her. Even though every instinct told her it was wrong, she offered no resistance when he took her hand and wrapped it around his shaft.

"You can touch it, you know. It’s yours," he whispered huskily in his ear as he guided her hand back and forth over his hardening length. "Just like this is mine," she heard him whisper as he slipped two fingers insider her.

"Spike, please don’t. This can’t be, it isn’t real," she said in a trembling voice as she spread her legs wider to allow him better access.

"Doesn’t this feel real?"

Willow felt moisture seep through her entrance to coat his fingers as the pad of his thumb found her clit and began to massage it in slow circles. All she could do was gasp and tremble as she felt him spread his finger inside her, stretching her walls.

"Willow?" The soft voice came from behind Spike and Willow jumped back, her eyes darting to the bed.

"Tara, you’re awake!"

As Willow rushed toward the bed, she saw Spike out of the corner of her eye, sucking on the two fingers he had put inside her. Her stomach fluttered and a tingle ran down to her core at seeing the gesture, but she ignored it. Tara needed her attention.

"Do I get to play with Spike now?" Tara asked innocently.

Willow glanced at Spike and saw the vampire grin and wriggle his eyebrows at Tara.

"No sweetie, not now," Willow informed the girl, pulling up the blanket that had slipped down, revealing her breasts. "Spike and I have some things to do, but we ... I’ll be back later. Ok?"

Tara nodded contentedly and snuggled down under the covers. "You get some rest; I’m going to make it all right, you’ll see," Willow whispered in the other’s ear before turning around to look at Spike.

"I need a shower," she informed him curtly.

"Me too. Good idea, Red"

Willow sighed in exasperation; the last thing she needed right now was Spike with her in the shower. Until she figured out what was going on with her and how to stop it, she figured the best thing to do was to stay as far away from Spike as possible.

"Spike, do you think you could give me some time ... alone ... I need to think. Please."

Spike shrugged, "Sure, Pet."

Willow smiled tentatively at him. "Thank you."

After ensuring that Tara was comfortable and going back to sleep, Willow stepped out into the hall and headed for her room, trying to ignore the fact that the vampire walking behind her was completely naked. As they entered the second story’s main corridor, Xander suddenly stepped in front of them. Willow halted and took an involuntary step back, bumping into Spike who was standing right behind her.

Xander’s eyes raked over both of them, taking in their disheveled appearances, as he slowly closed his bedroom’s door. Willow had the strange urge to assure him that it was not what it looked like, except she couldn’t, because it was exactly what it looked like, two people who had just been ravishing each other.

"Uh ... hello, Xan’"

"Hello, Will" Xander responded, his eyes glancing over Willow and settling on Spike.

Willow could not help but notice the changes in her friend, and was surprised that she had not realized them right away, the first time she saw him. His face still looked the same, but his eyes were colder, more piercing. His hair was still somewhat long, but it was stylishly combed back. He wore black leather pants and a black, silk, buttoned shirt over a t-shirt of the same color. Willow would have complimented Xander on the improvements in his appearance if she didn’t know that they were brought about by his transformation into a demon possessed killer.

"Xan’, going somewhere?"

Willow thought Spike’s voice seemed strained, even if he was trying to sound casual.

Xander started to say something, then paused, apparently reconsidering. After a moment he said, "I have to go back to the store, a lot of the costumers ... they just don’t feel comfortable with Giles tending on them."

Spike shrugged. "Fine then, mate. We may see you there in a little while."

Xander nodded, his eyes darting around, obviously trying to avoid Spike’s.

"I’ve been thinking about hiring somebody to mind the store, so that I can spend more time at home. It’s just hard finding reliable help amongst the vampire population."

Spike chuckled. "I can see how that would be a problem, finding a reliable, honest, hard working vampire."

Both men chuckled at the concept, and Willow was glad that the tension between the two had dissipated, at least for the time being.

"You may want to try one of the other demon races, some of them are almost qualified," Spike offered.

Xander nodded and turned on his heel, heading toward the stairs. When Willow heard the front door slam shut, she turned to Spike.

"Hum ... That went well."

"Not by a bloody long shot, Pet. I could smell his rage all the way over here; I think the only reason you’re still in one piece is because I was standing behind you."

Willow refused to believe what Spike was telling her. Sure, she had noticed a certain hostility from Xander toward her, ever since she had arrived, but she could not believe that Xander would actually want her dead.

"What? Why?"

Spike explained as they continued to walk down the hallway. "Jealousy, luv. The pull a vampire, specially a young vampire, feels toward his or her sire is a strong one. It’s the reason Dru ran to Angelus the moment he showed up, even after I had been her mate and taken care of her for nearly a century. It’s also the reason I would not leave Dru, no matter how crazy she got or how many times she left me; I always took her back because she was my sire. It’s not unusual for young vampires to fight amongst themselves for the attention of their sire; except in this case, you’re not a vampire."

They had reached their bedroom and Spike opened the door, allowing Willow to walk in first. He immediately went to the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. After lighting one of the cigarettes and tossing the pack on the dresser, Spike flopped down on the bed.

Willow frowned uncomfortably. "Uh, Spike, do you mind ... covering yourself. I want to hear what you’re saying ... but it’s hard to ... uh, concentrate, with you sitting there ... you know ... naked."

Spike grinned. "I got the impression back there that you liked looking at me ... naked. Besides, I wasn’t planning on spending a lot of time talking," he wriggled his eyebrows, and Willow almost smiled at his boyish expression. But she had meant it when she had said that she wanted to hear what Spike was telling her.

"I want to know why Xander hates me."

Spike sighed and pulled a blanket over his lower body. "It’s a bit complicated."

Willow sat on the edge of the bed and turned to look at Spike, giving him her undivided attention.

"It isn’t about you, Will, it’s about me. A part of me understands how he feels. Drusilla was never much of a sire. For the first few years after she turned me, she would sometimes forget for days that I even existed. I would spend entire nights waiting for her to get done talking to her dollies so that she would spend some time with me; and of course, there was always "Daddy." That’s why I started to turn to Angelus, to be closer to Dru, and because I craved the attention of a sire figure. I would do just about anything to get under his skin, just so that he would notice me. Most of the time I was little more than an annoyance to him, unless he was in one of his moods ... You wouldn’t believe the things I let him do to me, just so that he would acknowledge me. It’s bad enough for a vampire to be rejected or ignored by its sire ... To be replaced in his sire’s attentions by a human, well, it’s right down humiliating."

"Xander hates me because I’m human?"

Spike shrugged. "I don’t think he hates you, but it would be different if you were a vampire, or if I treated you like my slave instead of my mate ... If you were like us, a vampire, maybe you would understand."

Willow didn’t like the emphasis he put on the last words. She wondered if Spike was considering turning her, but was not sure she wanted to hear the answer, so she ignored the implication. Instead, she thought about what she had learned about his past. She could empathize with the concept of being an emotional orphan. Her own parents had been absent most of her time growing up. It was enlightening to discover that a demon could share the same feelings of dejection that she had felt at her parents indifference ... except, she had never considered killing anyone to gain her parents approval.

"I think it’s sad. Your past, I mean. It’s ... it’s like you were an orphan. And I feel bad that Xander is going through the same thing, because of me. Oh, Spike, this is such a mess, how am I ever going to fix this?"

The exhilaration that she had been feeling earlier was quickly being replaced by an overwhelming wave of sadness and loss. Spike must have sensed her change in mood, because he reached a hand out to her. She allowed him to take her hand and rub his thumb over her palm.

He shrugged. "I got over it, Pet. It was a long time ago. As for Xander, maybe I can spend a little more time with the brat, you know, shag him a couple of times, let him drink from me."

Willow’s eyes shot up at Spike’s words. "Let him drink from you? You mean, your blood?"

Spike nodded slowly. "It’s very pleasurable for a vampire to be bitten by its sire, but to be allowed to drink from the sire, that’s a privilege, a nummy treat."

She remembered watching Spike bite into Xander’s shoulder in the car, and the pleasurable sensation that had rushed through her body at the sight.

"You can watch if you want to. There is no reason why we can’t be a family Willow, take care of each other, fulfill each other’s needs. You, Tara, Xander, me ..."

His voice had taken a husky tone, and the images that he was conjuring in her mind, images of her and Tara that morning, he biting Xander while she watched, were creating a bubbling cauldron of confusing emotions inside her. She needed to get away from him in order to think, without his voice and touch interfering with her thoughts.

"I ... I’m going to ... take a shower now." She stood up, then paused and turned around. "I can’t go out of the house wearing this!" She pointed at the flimsy slip.

Spike pointed to the dresser. "Your clothes are in there. I’ll talk to Xander later about getting you something else."

Willow nodded and nearly ran out of the room after grabbing her blouse, skirt and bra, hoping that Spike would remember to procure some panties for her.

Once inside the bathroom, Willow adjusted the water temperature, and after pulling the slip over her head, jumped into the tub. The water was warm and comforting and she was grateful for the time alone. Something was wrong with her, and Willow knew that it was more than her attraction to Spike or her unexplainable actions of that morning. It was like every emotion in her was magnified tenfold, and she could feel something akin to an electrical current circulating through her body, like pinpricks through her veins, changing frequencies and intensity at whim.

She grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed her body, trying to wash away the sweat and the feeling under her skin, along with the memories of what she had done. The soft click of the bathroom door closing echoed through the room and Willow knew she was no longer alone.

Spike stepped in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She moved forward, trying to put some space between them, but the spray of water splashed against her face, and Willow had to step back into his embrace.

"Spike, I asked you to please let me shower alone."

"No, Red, you said you needed some time alone to think, and you already had that. I don’t fancy you thinking too much when you should be feeling instead."

She felt his long fingers slide across her back and knew that he was washing her body.

"Uh, Spike ... I already washed myself, you really don’t need to, you know, wash me."

"I know I don’t have to, luv, I’m enjoying it."

She felt his lips next to her ear. "You should enjoy it too."

As his hands traveled down her back and brushed against the base of her spine, Willow felt her legs weaken.

Grateful that she didn’t have to look at him, she squeezed her eyes tightly and tried to ignore what he was doing to her – which she found was impossible as his hands moved lower to squeeze her ass cheeks.

"You have a beautiful ass, Red. Did anyone ever tell you that?" He whispered.

Willow shook her head. She recalled Oz once commenting that she had a "cute butt," but no one had ever told her that she had a beautiful ass.

She felt him hesitate and twisted her neck to glance at him over her shoulder. He was looking down at her intensely.

"What ... what is it?"

"The marks that were here last night, they are gone."

Willow frowned. She had never been a fast healer and she bruised very easily, she had no explanation for the absence of the marks, except that the magic that was cursing through her body was healing it at an alarmingly fast rate.

He massaged the firm flesh of her buttocks. "I’m glad; the only marks I want to see on your body are the ones that I put on it."

Willow knew that she should feel threatened by his words, but instead, a wave of pleasure rippled through her. Slippery fingers glided smoothly over her hips and to the front of her body, ghosting over her belly and ribs before firmly cupping her breasts. She leaned forward and pressed her breasts into his hands, thankful that her gesture was the only encouragement he needed. Willow didn’t know if she could bring herself to tell him aloud how his cool touch was making her blood boil with desire, or how badly she needed him at that moment.

His strong fingers began to massage the soft flesh of her breasts and Willow felt her nipples harden.

"Do you like that?" His voice was low and raspy against her ear.

Willow could only gasp in response as his fingers gently pulled on her hard nipples. She felt a familiar tugging sensation start in her belly and she clenched her fists.

"Relax, baby. Don’t fight it," she heard him whisper as he turned her around to face him.

He bent down and reached for the bar of soap, offering it to her. Without speaking, she took the soap from his hands and began to wash his body. Her hands glided over his bruised nipples, letting the soap and water wash away the dried blood from his chest. She was rewarded with a sharp hiss from Spike. Continuing to explore his body, Willow moved her soapy hands over every inch of skin she could reach, while his fingers slowly traveled downward to bury themselves between her thighs.

She felt his fingers graze over her wet curls before they separated her folds. A single finger moved back and forth over the length of her slit and she trembled. Two fingers entered her quickly and Willow gasped and pushed down on the fingers, needing more. Wrapping her hand around his fully erect shaft, she pulled firmly on it, trying to let him know what she wanted.

"Damn, Red, you’re so wet. I could bend you over and fuck you right now."

Willow closed her eyes when she realized he knew how turned on she was by him. "He must think I’m a hussy," she thought.

As if he had read her thoughts, his next words reassured her. "I like you this way, Red. I want you wanting and ready for me all the time."

He circled around her and Willow moaned at the loss of his fingers and his steely flesh; she felt empty and abandoned. Reaching from behind her, Spike quickly shoved three fingers inside her, pushing in as far as his fingers would reach and nearly lifting her feet off the bathtub floor.

"Put your hands against the wall, Red," her ordered gruffly, placing the palm of his other hand between her shoulder blades and pushing her forward.

She hesitated only for an instant before spreading her arms in front of herself and placing the palms of her hands against the cold tile. The desire that had started like a flicker in the pit of her stomach was rapidly turning into a raging inferno that she wasn’t sure how long she could control. She felt his fingers slide out of her once more and roam over the swollen, sensitive flesh between her thighs, squeezing, pulling, pinching, spreading her moisture around. She nearly screamed when he pinched her clit between two fingers.

"Damn it, Spike, just fuck me already!" She groaned.

She heard his soft chuckle as he dragged his fingers backwards over her flesh. When one of his slippery fingers began to circle the puckered hole of her ass, Willow froze.

"Here, Red, I want to take you here."

Willow’s eyes widened and she shook her head. Surely he couldn’t be thinking of putting his entire cock in there!

"No, Spike, you can’t ..." Her protests turned into a moan when he slid a solitary finger into her. She concluded it didn’t feel too bad, she felt stretched and there was some pressure, but no pain. But then again, a finger wasn’t the same thing as his cock. When his other hand began to manipulate her clit and he inserted a second finger inside her, Willow’s body clenched reflexively at the intrusion at the same time that a rush of pleasure coursed through her.

"Relax, luv. You’ve never done this before, have you, Pet?"

Willow shook her head, afraid she wouldn’t be able to form coherent words if she tried. Tara had played with her ass a couple of times, but she had never had two fingers shoved inside her, let alone a cock.

"I can tell. You’re so tight. Push against my fingers, Will, open up for me."

Willow trembled and she knew she would have collapsed had her arms not been supporting her against the wall. She no longer cared what he did to her, as long as he made the want inside her stop. Judging by the strained and urgent tone of his voice, Willow surmised that he was as desperate as she felt.

She tried to do as he instructed, relaxing her body and pushing her ass out, offering herself to him. Willow felt his fingers move slowly in and out of her and she continued to relax, trying to match her breaths to his slow rhythm.

Willow felt her orgasm starting to build and she panted heavily, bucking her hips back against his fingers. She was so close that she squeezed her eyes shut and moaned in preparation, nearly screaming out in frustration when he removed his hands from her body and stepped back.

"Stop that!" He ordered as he brought his open hand down hard against her ass.

Willow rested her cheek against the cool tile of the bathroom wall and whimpered, afraid that if she moved or protested, Spike would just walk away. She felt his fingers grip her hips.

"I’m going to stick my cock in your pussy now and move it around a little, but if you cum, I swear you’ll be sorry," he hissed in her ear.

Willow nodded, and felt him position himself at her entrance and push inside. He slid in easily, and Willow gritted her teeth at the slow, torturous tempo of his movements. After only a few thrusts, he pulled out of her and positioned himself once more, this time at her back entrance.

She threw her head back and screamed when she felt the head of his cock breach her and push inside her. Spike froze and Willow waited for him to scream in pain as the chip activated. She frowned when the expected scream didn’t come, and then she felt his fingers ghosting over her clit, barely touching it.

"That’s a good girl, Willow," he panted in her ear. "Now relax so that I can push all the way in."

Willow whimpered, she didn’t think that what he wanted to do was possible. She already felt as if she was being torn in two, the pain scorching her insides. He increased the friction against her clit and continued to talk to her in a voice strained and husky with his own desire. "Be a good girl, relax and push out, baby. It will pass, I promise."

The pain was still present, but as her desire began to build again, Willow ignored it and concentrated on the sensations that his fingers were creating inside her. He slowly buried himself inside her completely, pausing for a moment before retreating almost all the way and pushing in again. As Willow groaned and panted, he moved in and out of her at a slow, steady tempo. Pain and pleasure rolled through Willow’s body like waves, merging and crashing against each other until they were indistinguishable. As her orgasm grew nearer, she panted harshly.

"Harder, harder please," she groaned.

He sped up his thrusts, pounding into her from behind as the fingers of one hand furiously massaged her clit while the other hand pinched and pulled at her nipple. The sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, combined with the slapping of wet flesh against flesh, echoed through the room. Willow pressed her hands and face against the wall for support as her pleasure increased and her legs weakened.

"Cum for me, Will. I want you to cum with my cock up your ass."

His harsh command was all she needed, and Willow threw her head back and screamed one last time as her insides exploded and shattered, sending her body into a series of pleasurable spasms. She was barely aware of the roar coming from behind her and the burning sensation that spread from her neck to her chest as her body slowly crumbled to the floor.

As her breathing slowed and awareness returned, Willow felt the pounding of the water against her skin stop, and she realized that she was laying down on the floor of the tub, her legs drawn up close to her body. She turned her head and saw Spike standing at the other end of the tub, his unnecessary breathing ragged, his eyes wide. Frowning, she brought her hand up to her neck and gasped when her fingers felt something sticky on her skin. She frantically scrambled out of the tub and rushed to stand in front of the mirror above the sink, already knowing what she would see. Twin droplets of blood clung to two distinct puncture marks on her neck. She stared wide-eyed at Spike.

"How? ... You’re not supposed to ... Your chip!"

She watched a smile creep across his face. "Maybe you were enjoying it too much to for the chip to pick up your ... um, discomfort ... as pain ..." He stepped over the side of the tub and walked to stand next to her. "Or maybe, you’re too much like me and the chip doesn’t recognize you as human."

"I am nothing like you!" She protested unconvincingly.

"On the contrary, I think you’ll see that you’re just like me," he whispered.

Unexpectedly, he reached out and pinched Willow’s arm, hard. The woman flinched and protested, at the same time that Spike put his hands on his head and dropped down to his knees, howling in pain.

"I told you!" Willow spat at Spike before hastily throwing on her clothes and leaving the bathroom, headed for the bedroom. She opened and closed every drawer, not finding anything suitable for her need.

"What you looking for, Red."

Spike was standing at the doorway, already dressed but still rubbing his head. Willow slammed the last drawer shut and turned to look at him.

"I need something to cover my neck! I can’t go out in public like this!"

Spike walked up to her and bent his head to lick the puncture wounds. "Don’t cover them, Will, I want everyone to see them," he purred against her skin.

Willow felt a by now familiar shiver run up her spine and she shoved Spike away. So what if Spike wanted everyone to think he was the "big-bad" because he had bitten her neck? Her friends here were all either vampires, crazy or dead; what did it matter if anyone saw that she had been bitten by a vampire? Her first concern was to get to Giles and hope that he knew how to fix whatever was wrong with her.

"Fine then, let’s go!" She headed for the door without waiting to see if Spike would follow.

~Part: 13~

The sun was beginning to set when Willow and Spike reached downtown Sunnydale, headed in the direction of the former Magic Box. Willow’s steps were brisk, in order to keep up with Spike’s long strides. She was sure he would have slowed down if she had complained, but the truth was she wanted to get to Giles and hopefully get some answers as soon as possible. Her mind was a jumble of confusing thoughts and emotions. Tara was her girlfriend and she loved her; she was the reason she had remained in this reality in the first place, to try to help her. Why then was she spending her time jumping into bed with Spike? And what was the attraction that he held for her?

There had been a time when she had thought Spike attractive, for a few weeks back in high school. She had been much younger and naive then, and he had seemed suave, worldly and dangerous. But that had been nothing more than an adolescent infatuation. It had to be the "borrowed magic" that Spike had been talking about; it was the only explanation she could find.

They reached the building and Willow hesitated, not looking forward to revisiting the place. Spike walked around her and barged right into the shop, holding her hand and pulling her in behind him. As she had done before, Willow kept her eyes downcast when she entered the store – there was something about the place that had made her want to wretch. It was like the entire town, everything she had known and loved, had been defiled and twisted into a mockery of her reality. She even hated walking down the street.

The store was deserted, except for a single costumer, Xander, and Giles, who was busy arranging a shelf near the back.

"Giles, Red here wants to have a word with you," Spike announced the moment he was inside the store.

All three people turned to look at him. The client, a young, attractive woman dressed in a black, shiny body suit grinned widely.

"Spike! Well, Xander, you naughty boy! You didn’t tell me your "Daddy" was in town!"

The woman’s shrill voice and familiar tone grated on Willow’s nerves. Willow was sure she had never seen the woman before, but she felt an immediate disliked toward her for no apparent reason. Maybe it was the way her eyes were hungrily traveling the length of Spike’s body. ‘That’s ridiculous, why would I care how she looks at Spike?’ Willow told herself.

"He only got back a couple of days ago. I had not seen you until today, and that’s your fault. You don’t visit me as often as you used to."

The woman turned her attention to Xander and pursed her lips into a fake pout that would not have fooled a nun.

"You know how it is Xan, so much fun to be had, so many humans to flay." Xan and the woman laughed, and Willow felt her stomach turn and her anger flare at the implication of the woman’s words.

She was so busy trying to keep her eyes averted from her surroundings and her emotions under control, that she almost missed it when the strange woman approached her.

"And speaking of humans, I see you still have your little pet around."

The woman pinched Willow’s chin and lifted her face, but her eyes were on Spike. Willow more sensed than saw Spike tense up next to her, and she felt embolden by his protective stance.

"Back off, bitch!" She hissed between clenched teeth.

Xander’s jaw slacked and Giles nearly dropped a paddle he had been about to hang on a display, but he quickly regained his composure. Spike merely chuckled.

"I would watch out if I were you. My pet bites," he commented, trying to sound casual, and almost succeeding.

Giles limped toward Willow and Spike, ignoring the others’ words in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

"Yes, of course. What can I do for you, Willow?"

Willow looked around the room, embarrassed by her remark of a moment earlier. She didn’t know what had come over her, but the woman touching her so familiarly and the contempt in her voice had sent a wave of anger rippling through her, and she had not been able to stop the words from coming out of her mouth. She had a feeling that the sooner she left the room, the better for all concerned.

"Can ... could we talk in private?" She asked Giles, trying to ignore the woman and Spike’s condemning glare.

"Yes, we can go downstairs."

She started walking with Giles toward the back stairs and Spike was about to join them when the woman’s next words stopped him.

"Spike, you disappoint me! I would have thought your human would be better trained." The woman was still smiling, but her tone was strained.

Spike shrugged. "Maybe I like her bite," he commented.

"And maybe she lacks discipline." The woman brought her arm up, and Willow saw that she was holding what looked like a wooden paddle with a long handle and wicked looking spikes protruding from the flat surface.

Willow felt Giles urgently pulling on her arm, trying to coax her toward the stairs. After a momentary pause, she allowed Giles to guide her to the back of the store, leaving Spike behind, talking to the woman. Willow heard her next words as she descended the back stairs.

"A couple of strikes across the face with one of these, and I guarantee she’ll learn to watch her tongue. Of course, she might also be blinded by the spikes, but I don’t imagine you have much use for those pretty, green eyes."

"And I guarantee that one shove of that thing up your ass will teach you to mind your own business!" Willow thought, but kept the comment to herself as she stomped down the stairs.

Once safely in the basement and away from the others’ earshot, Giles turned toward Willow.

"I’ve been wanting to speak with you since last night, we don’t have much time."

Willow grew concerned at the watcher’s urgent tone, momentarily setting aside all thoughts about the reason for her visit and the infuriating woman upstairs.

"What is it Giles ... What’s wrong?"

The watcher looked nervously toward the stairs before continuing. "The last time we spoke, you said that you had summoned Chishleen, and that the spell you did is what caused vampires to walk in the daylight. Did I understand you correctly?

Willow nodded.

"But why, Willow? Why would you do something like that and then not tell us about it when you knew we were looking for an answer?"

Willow stared down at her shoes while nervously wringing her fingers. This Giles, same as the one in her world, had a way of making her feel like a little girl who had done something very naughty.

"I couldn’t say anything ... because I wasn’t here."

"What on earth are you talking about? What do you mean you were not here?!"

She breathed deeply. If she was going to trust Giles to help her, she may as well tell him everything, and quickly, before her nerve failed her.

"I did the spell a couple of days ago – in my dimension ... which is another dimension, not this one. In my world, Spike had been helping us and ... and ... I thought he deserved something nice ... you know, for helping us ... so I did the spell. I didn’t know! It was only supposed to be good for one day, and all it was supposed to do was allow Spike to walk in the daylight ... for one day. And at first everything was fine ... except that things were different ... and I didn’t know why ..."

Giles raised his hand and Willow stopped talking.

"Wait, wait ... you’re saying that you are not Willow, and that the spell you did two days ago in your world, changed the course of events here a year ago?"

"I am Willow. Everyone and everything in this world seems to have been the same as in my world, before I changed things, so I’m almost sure that the Willow you knew was the same as me. Except, I think time here moves differently than in my dimension," she explained, too embarrassed to look the watcher in the face.

Giles seemed to be about to ask another question. He looked toward the stairs and shook his head, apparently dismissing whatever was on his mind in favor of a more urgent matter, "We don’t have much time, Willow, which spell did you use? Where did you get it?"

Willow’s face brightened and she looked up.

"Here! I got the spell from one of your books! Maybe the book is also here, in this world!"

They both ran to the nearest stack of books, ripping through the piles and shelves in search of the spell book. Giles walked up to Willow, a large, familiar volume in his hands.

"Is this it, Willow? Is this the book?" He asked excitedly.

She took the proffered book in her hands and nearly ran to the table. She quickly skimmed through the pages, her lips suddenly widening into a big smile.

"Yes! This is it. Right here."

She found the corresponding page and pointed at the spell she had used. Giles looked over her shoulder, reading through the spell as Willow continued to smile. Her smile turned into a frown when she noticed Giles serious expression.

"What’s wrong, Giles?"

"Well, there are a couple of things. For starters, once Chishleen grants a gift, only she can reverse it. Normally, she will supply the conjurer with a means of reversing the spell by proxy – failing that, the only way to reverse the original wish, is to summon Chishleen a second time..."

Willow finished the watcher’s thoughts. "... and to summon Chishleen, we need an orb."

The girl sank into a chair and ran her fingers through her hair; she had no idea how they would find an Orb of Chishleen in this world.

"Are you certain there is no other way?"

The watcher had started to shake his head when a crashing noise coming from the store upstairs got their attention. Willow turned wide eyes to the man in front of her. Spike’s yelling reverberated through the building. She could not understand what he was saying, but he sounded angry. She heard another scream followed by the sound of shattering glass.

She started toward the stairs, anxious to find out what was going on in the main room of the store. Giles grabbed her arm and whispered urgently, "Willow, I need you to do something for me."

Willow nodded, her attention focused on the altercation that was clearly taking place upstairs. "Anything, Giles. Just help me fix this, please!"

"I think I know a counter spell, but I’ll need you to do it ..."

Willow nodded.

"I also need a few days to get things ready and I need you to distract Spike and Xander while I do."

Willow frowned. She could only think of one thing that would distract Spike, and she would rather not use that type of distraction, and she had no idea what she could do to distract Xander.

"I don’t know, Giles ... distract how?"

The noises from upstairs ceased and Willow and Giles exchanged worried looks. "Just try to keep them away from the store as much as possible, especially Spike, and pay attention to what they say and do, look for any signs that they might suspect something. I only need a couple of days. Can you do it?"

Willow didn’t think she could do it, but she saw no alternative. This was her mess to clean up and she had to do all she could in order to set things right in this world. Besides, considering that Spike was no longer wearing the amulet, and that she had no idea where it was, the spell might be her only way home.

"So, what did I miss?"

Willow heard Spike’s voice coming from the top of the stairs and she jumped, whirling around to face him. She had no idea how long he had been standing there or what he had heard. She saw him descend down the stairs, his gaze focused intently on Giles.

"Spike ... what happened? We heard noises upstairs," Willow asked, trying to read his expression. She was certain that if he had heard something of what she and Giles had been discussing, they would know shortly.

She watched him reach the bottom of the stairs and walk toward her, letting out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding when Spike only shrugged casually. "I didn’t like what the bitch had to say, or her putting her hands on you."

Spike caressed Willow’s face possessively. "Speaking of which, what were the two of you talking about?"

Willow tensed and started to speak, a little faster than she knew she should have. "Giles was just explaining to me ... you know ... about my powers and the borrowed magic ... and about why I feel this tingling all over my body ... and why it sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t ... you know."

Spike was looking over her head at Giles, his eyes slightly narrowed, and Willow was grateful when Giles picked up the conversation, his tone calm and even.

"Yes. I told Willow I did some research earlier today, and it’s really not a big concern as long as she keeps a tight reign on her emotions and doesn’t let the magic fuel her impulses."

Willow frowned, what did he mean not a big concern? Did he have any idea about the things that she had done?! No, of course he didn’t, and Willow was not inclined to tell him. Still, she had to let him know that something was not right and that it was a concern.

"But ... but what about ... you know. The way this magic makes me do things ... things I don’t want to do ... like ... like ... when I sent Spike flying through the air ... and I broke a window in my room last night, without touching it, I was just angry ... and I wasn’t trying to do those things ... I didn’t want to do those things ... I just did ... and it was like I saw them happening ... and I knew I was doing them ... but I didn’t want to stop them ... because I wanted to do them ... but I couldn’t have wanted to do them, because ... because I wouldn’t do things like that ... you know ... like, breaking windows ... and stuff ..."

Willow stopped talking when she realized that both Spike and Giles were looking at her, the ex-watcher with a confused expression on his face, Spike with an amused grin.

Giles removed his glasses to clean them and quickly replaced them. "Willow, from what I read, borrowing magic is a simple transference of energy. It is not like you’re possessed by an entity or a demon. The energy has no consciousness and so your will is still your own."

Willow shook her head; Giles had to be wrong. She knew she couldn’t have done the things she did with Spike out of her own free will; something had to be controlling her.

"But ... but ... why do I feel so strange. You know ... like angry ... and why do things happen without me wanting them to happen ... before I can even think about them?"

Willow realized that her tone was becoming increasingly frantic and she startled when she felt Spike’s hand caress her back. Giles seemed to be considering her question.

"Well, the energy is new and foreign to your body. There are several testimonials in the book from people who have willingly harvested energy from an outside source, and they all described the same tingling sensation as you, an inconsequential side effect that disappears after some time. As for the anger and the impulsiveness, that’s a bit more complicated."

"Complicated how?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"Well, we are on the Hellmouth, so most likely the energy in you comes from a dark source ..."

"So it makes me do evil things!" Willow interrupted hopefully, although, she wasn’t sure why she was hoping that she was possessed by a dark energy that made her do evil things.

Giles looked down at her with a reassuring smile on his lips. "No, Willow. I told you, the energy has no will or consciousness of its own. It merely acts as fuel, no different than the charge in a battery. However, we all have a dark part of our psyche, one that harbors our most primal desires, and that is kept in check by our conscience. It is possible that this energy is fueling this part of your personality, and thus causing you to act impulsively or out of instinct ... lashing out instinctively when you become angry. Have you felt or experienced anything that leads you to believe that there is cause for serious concern?"

Willow’s face fell. She knew what Giles was talking about. She had studied it in her Psychology class in college, Freud’s theory of the subconscious, the id and the superego. The superego, akin to the conscience, representing the societal rules that she had been taught throughout her life as to what is good and ethical, and the id, a raging furnace of emotions and desires, the humans’ most basic animalistic drives and instincts with a focus on aggression and sexual energies, and the magic coursing through her body acting as fuel to that fire.

"How strong is she?"

Willow vaguely heard Spike ask the question and she absently listened to Giles’ answer as she pondered the significance of this new information. The magic had not made her do anything, it had simply fed what was already there – the anger, the lust, the cruelty, it was all a part of her.

"Not very strong as far as I can gather ..." she heard Giles say, "... borrowed magic, even when consciously transferred, is never as strong as true power. In this case, the power seems to be limited to her immediate surroundings, and it spends itself quickly, needing time to recharge, which would explain why sometimes it doesn’t work."

"Oh, great! Not only do I get to walk around angry and horny, but my "gift" is limited to untying knots, hurling objects and healing my ass!"

"How do I stop it? If I don’t know how I’m doing it in the first place, how do I stop it?" She asked quietly.

"I ... I ... don’t know if you can. But as long as you are aware of what’s happening, and you keep a strong check on your emotions, it should be alright."

She heard the hesitation in Giles’ voice and she looked up to see Spike’s eyes boring menacingly into him. "He’s not going to let Giles tell me." Her only consolation was that if everything went well, she would be leaving this dimension in a few short days and everything would be back to normal then, or so she wanted to believe. She only had to deal with the situation until then.

"So, you see, Pet, nothing to worry about! Should we go home now?"

Willow glanced at Spike from under lowered lids, wondering if he had fully understood what Giles had explained. She looked at Giles expectantly, trying to convey to the watcher that all was not as simple as he believed.

"Willow, you didn’t answer my question," the ex-watcher pointed out carefully, emphasizing the words.

Willow tried to think about what his question had been, she had been too distraught to listen before.

Giles repeated the question. "Has something happened that makes you think there is cause for serious concern?"

"Yes, Red, any dark fantasies or desires lurking in that sinister psyche of yours that we all should be aware of?" Spike added with a smirk.

Willow self-consciously lifted her hand to cover the mark on her neck, inadvertently drawing Giles’ attention to it. Understanding seemed to dawn in Giles’ eyes and the two stared at each other in silence for a moment. She knew there was nothing that Giles could do to help her, not with Spike standing nearby, looming over them like an overzealous guard dog. It was up to her to deal with her own impulses and throw Spike off Giles scent at the same time.

"I want to go home now," she said dejectedly.

Spike ignored her request. "So, Rupert, since you apparently had enough free time on your hands to research all about Will’s dark magic, I gather that you already figured out how to get the bloody chip in my brain to stop working."

Giles shifted around nervously. "I’ve been doing some research, but I haven’t come across anything useful. We don’t even know what the chip is or does ..."

"But that bloody wizard did it. That means it can be done!" Spike interjected angrily.

"Yes, there is a way, but I doubt I’ll find any reference to a U.S. government issued micro-chip in an ancient text. The wizard was a newcomer to town. No one knows who he was or where he came from ... he obviously had access to information that I don’t."

"Well, isn’t that fucking convenient!"

Willow placed her hand placatingly on Spike’s arm. "Spike, he is trying ... just give him some more time."

Spike glared at the watcher, but he let the matter drop. Willow’s stomach was tied in a knot. She hated the intrigue, the lies and the secrets. In spite of everything that had happened, she had to admit that Spike had always been straightforward; if he was angry with her, he let her know, if he wanted something from her, he would tell her. His straightforwardness made it all the harder to lie to him.

"I’m taking Red home now ... but Rupert, I’ll be watching you."

Giles looked at Willow and she knew that he was looking for reassurance that he could count on her to keep Spike’s attention diverted. She nodded slightly, silently sealing their agreement, before following Spike up the stairs.

Once on the main floor of the store, Willow’s eyes traveled to the glass display in shards on the floor. Xander was quietly sweeping up the pieces.

"She is not coming back here after this, you know that," he said to Spike without looking at him.

"That was the point, Xander. I didn’t like the bloody bitch!"

"And I’m supposed to make money how, when word gets around that my crazy sire is beating up the costumers?!"

"Xander, sod off! How you make money is not my bloody problem!"

Willow rushed out of the store, no longer able to stand the bickering around her. She was trying hard to control her emotions and outbursts, but Xander and Spike were not making it easy. Once outside in the cool night air, she closed her eyes and took a couple of deep, calming breaths. She opened her eyes when she felt Spike standing next to her, a little closer than it was comfortable for her.

"Are you all right, Pet?" He asked her, placing one of his arms around her shoulder.

Willow nodded, "I’m fine, I just ... I needed to get out of there. The place gives me the creeps."

Spike bent his head to nuzzle her neck before slowly kissing his way up to her ear. "Then what do you say we get out of here and go home." He pulled away and looked at her with a lascivious grin.

Willow was anxious to leave, but it was clear by his demeanor what Spike’s intentions were once they were back at the house. They would eventually have to go back, but Willow wanted to postpone being alone with Spike for as long as possible.

"Can ... can we go somewhere else?"

Spike shrugged. "Like where?"

"Oh ... I don’t know, anywhere, I guess. I just don’t want to go back to the house just yet."

Spike did not look pleased with her request, but he agreed nonetheless. "I’m a bit puckish. What do you say we stop at Willie’s and after that maybe the Bronze?"

Willow nodded and allowed Spike to take her by the hand and lead her down the street. She didn’t much care where they were going as long as it was a public place where Spike would be less likely to ravish her. "Or me ravish him," she admitted reluctantly.

~Part: 14~

It was not yet ten o’clock when Xander closed the front doors of the store. His best costumers, the older vampires and other demons, still preferred to conduct business at night, old habit perhaps, and he usually accommodated them, but that was not the case tonight. There was too much on his mind for him to focus on the trivialities of running a business. He fondled the cold, hard steel of the metal chain with a twisted wistfulness as he strung it through the bars of the front gate, a smile distorting his boyish features.

Since arriving at the shop earlier that afternoon, he had not been able to dismiss the image of Spike and Willow standing in front of his bedroom door nearly naked, or the memory of Tara’s scent on both their bodies. Willow and Spike had come as no surprise to him; it was no secret that his sire wasted no opportunity to get inside of the little witch, but what he could not abide was Tara’s betrayal.

Tara was his, only his. Spike had never shown any interest in the witch before, and had made it clear from the onset that the only reason she had not been killed with the others was because she kept Xander amused and out of his hair. He had relished all the hours he had spent visiting every type of torture he could conceive on the witch, and Xander had surprised himself with his inventiveness. Even Spike had been impressed with his cruelty, spending some evenings in Xander’s room watching his boy torture the witch. Of course, after his sire had gotten himself all worked up from watching and was ready for some action, he had always turned to Willow for that. But Xander had still basked in the look of lust and admiration he would see in his sire’s eyes with every lash of the whip against Tara’s body.

At first, Tara had fought him like a hell cat, and Xander had enjoyed that. When Tara went crazy, after all the fight had been beaten out of her, Xander had considered killing her. Humans were a dime in dozen in a town like Sunnydale, and he had enough money accumulated to buy anyone or anything he wanted – but he knew it would not be the same. The crazy woman followed him around like a puppy, bending to his every whim regardless of how twisted. Another vampire had once told him that it was called the Stockholm Syndrome, but to Xander it meant that Tara was his in a way no one had ever been his. He had even gotten her to help him tie up and torture some of the humans and lesser demons he had brought home on occasion. Of course, he’d had to beat and threaten her in order for her to do it, but that was just a bonus for him. She was his creation, and had always been loyal to him, until now.

He slammed the heavy lock into place and walked toward his car, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his lips absently whistling a whimsical tune. As he drove home, Xander reminisced about the day he had made Tara his prisoner – the look on the witch’s face when she had come face to face with him, the mixture of terror, grief and astonishment, was a memory that he would always treasure. Spike had allowed Xander to participate in his plan of revenge against the Scoobies, and Xander had relished his role as the only child and right hand of William the Bloody. Together, the two of them had rained havoc and death on the slayer, the remaining Scoobies, and the town of Sunnydale.

Even after all this time, Xander had to admit that his sire’s revenge had been glorious. When the Scoobies had realized that some unknown phenomenon had allowed vampires to safely walk in the daylight, they had immediately holed up at the magic shop for a marathon research session. Willow had erected a magical barrier around the shop, and they had all settled down to research. The watcher had been convinced that the cause of the change had been a spell, and that there had to be a way for them to reverse it. The research had dragged on for weeks, and the Scoobies had taken to going out in pairs every few days to try to procure food and supplies. Willow and Xander had been on such an excursion when they had been ambushed by Spike. Tired and drained from holding up the magical barrier and extensive hours of research, Willow had been no match for the un-chipped, irate vampire. Xander never stood a chance.

After that, it had all been a matter of waiting for the barrier to crumble, and Spike had his two captives to keep him entertained while he waited. No one had thought that Tara could hold the barrier up for long, not on her own, and they had been right. When the inevitable had happened, Spike, Xander and seven minions had attacked in force. It had been somewhat anti-climatic, in Xander’s opinion, how quickly it was over. Two minions had gone after Dawn simultaneously, and when Anya had tried to stop them, a third had ripped her neck open and drained her. If Spike had felt any sorrow at Dawn’s death, he had never shown it, at least, not to Xander.

Tara had been too worn down with grief over losing Willow to put up much of a fight against Xander. He had drunk from her until she was unconscious, but not enough to kill her. If Spike was going to spend all his time with Willow, then Xander was going to need a diversion as well. Tara had actually been his second choice, he would have much preferred Anya, but she was already dead and an ex-vengeance demon was not a good choice for a slave anyway. Xander had convinced himself that the fact that Tara was Willow’s lover had nothing to do with his decision.

Spike had engaged Buffy. He had given specific instructions that the slayer was his and no one else was to touch her. To Buffy’s credit, she had put up a good fight, but seeing her friends fall around her one by one had weakened her resolve. In the end, Spike had "bagged" himself his third slayer. Giles had been knocked un-conscious by Xander, but not killed, per Spike’s instructions. Xander had not understood Spike’s decision to capture the watcher alive, but he did now. He had proven himself very useful in the time since.

Xander and Spike had been partners in violence, but when it came to Spike’s more carnal desires, the older vampire had always turned to Willow instead of Xander. Xander had convinced himself that his sire would come around – that he would tire of the witch, or that she would die, and then he would turn to his child. But Spike had only grown more restless and distant after killing the slayer. He would lock himself in his room for hours at a time with the witch, until finally, he had just up and left, taking Willow with him, and with little more than a "good luck, mate" for Xander. Xander had not planned to keep Tara around for long, but she had grown on him after awhile. After Spike had gone, Tara had been all that Xander had left that linked him to Spike and their collective former life.

He made the trip home in record time, and was pleasantly surprised upon arrival to discover that neither Spike nor Willow were home. Maybe luck was still on his side after all. He climbed the stairs two steps at a time, with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning. In the preceding year, Xander had come to appreciate a decent spot of violence, as Spike called it. While the man was seething with anger over Tara’s and his sire’s betrayal, the demon was quaking with anticipation at the prospect of torture and pain. With swift, determined steps, Xander approached Tara’s bedroom, quietly opening the door and letting himself inside.

Tara laid curled up in the bed under a thick blanket. The room reeked of the combined scents of sex, sweat and a whiff of his sire’s blood. Xander’s member stirred as the intoxicating scent hit his nostrils. He approached the bed slowly, as if he was trying not to disturb the woman’s peaceful sleep, but what he was really doing was dragging out the moment when he would see her eyes widen in fear and panic – he loved to see that look in her eyes.

When he reached the edge of the bed, he extended a hand and carefully tangled his fingers into a chunk of her hair, caressing the soft strands. "Time to play, Tara," he whispered in a singsong voice.

Tara stirred and moaned. He waited until her eyelids fluttered and she was teetering in that place between sleep and wakefulness, and then he yanked on the hunk of hair, dragging the startled woman off the bed and across the bedroom floor. He let her flail around a little, her arms reaching back wildly, trying in vain to untangle his hands from her hair, before he stilled her with a swift kick to the ribs.

The room became eerily silent as Tara crouched immobile on the floor like a startle animal, while Xander towered over her, his face a mask of anger.

"You fucking whore! You let them touch you, didn’t you? Both of them! I could smell you on both on them!" He yelled down at her, trying to arise any kind of reaction from the woman.

When he got no reaction from her, Xander sighed deeply in exasperation – It was no fun if Tara didn’t play along. He concluded if he couldn’t get her to talk in her own defense, then he would have to content himself with hearing her scream. Not that anything she had to say would have made any difference, it just amused him to hear her trying to talk her way out of a punishment.

Keeping a firm grip on the woman’s hair, he began to drag her toward his bedroom, thinking the whole time that Tara had been a lot more fun when she was sane. Back then, she had fought him, argued, pleaded, and screamed at him, instead of just laying limply on the floor as he dragged her behind him like a dead dear that he was going to skin.

He reached his bedroom and entered, bypassing the main room and heading for the adjacent bathroom. Without paying much attention, he reached for the knob and opened the hot water faucet before turning on the shower. Steam rose from the scalding water, quickly condensing into droplets on the cold tile surface.

"In you go!" He exclaimed as he swung the limp woman by the hair and tossed her into the tub.

Tara screamed and struggled to get away from the burning spray of water, but Xander easily held her still with one hand while reaching for a loofa sponge and viciously scrubbing her skin with the other.

"I hate the smell of that bitch on you! Even your mouth smells like her pussy! Open up!"

Xander forced Tara’s head back and shoved a bar of soap in her mouth, causing the woman to gag and sputter the bubbles out. By the time Xander was done scrubbing Tara’s body clean of all traces of Willow and Spike’s scent, they were both soaking wet. Every inch of Tara’s body was red and raw, and they were both panting heavily, albeit Xander unnecessarily so. Tara whimpered as Xander shut off the water and hoisted her out of the tub by the arm, shoving her toward the bedroom.

The room’s decor was a stark contrast with the rest of the house, if just as morbid. Instead of the gaudy, blood red theme of the other rooms, the dominant color in the room was black. Heavy black curtains covered the windows, and a black satin comforter dressed the massive bed. Black wallpaper with an intricate silvery gray motif covered the walls, and the floors were bare, gray marble. The only other furnishings in the expansive room, besides the bed, were a large armoire, a chest of drawers and a plush, antique chair that had been upholstered in black velvet. The scant amount of furniture left a large, clear area in the middle of the room. Inconspicuously attached to each of the walls were two sets of metal rings, two almost at floor level, the other two about a foot from the ceiling.

When Tara hesitated at the threshold between the bathroom and the bedroom, Xander gave the woman another shove. She took a couple of stumbling steps before collapsing on the hard floor and remaining there.

"And like always, I have to do all the work," Xander commented with an exaggerated gesture of exasperation.

He stepped over the woman’s inert body and walked to the armoire, throwing the double door open to reveal a cornucopia of instruments of torture. From the hooks on the doors, he retrieved four long lengths of chain with heavy hooks at one end of each, and manacles on the other. After only a few minutes he had strung two of the chains through the upper rings and two through the bottom ones. Standing in the middle of the room he playfully called to Tara, who had remained silent and immobile while he completed the preparations, just as he had taught her.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!"

Tara crawled slowly to him, keeping her eyes downcast.

"Is it too much to ask for you to speed things up? I’m a busy man, I don’t have all the time in the world ... Well, actually, I do have eternity, now that I think of it ... but that doesn’t mean I want to spend it standing here; now, does it?"

As Tara came to a stop before him, Xander bent down and secured a shackle to each of her extremities. He then pulled each chain taut, until Tara was spread-eagled in an upright position, each chain securely held in place by its hook. As he inspected the fruit of his labor, Xander congratulated himself on the design.

"You know what I say, Tara? I say that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Either that, or pay someone else an exorbitant amount of money to do it, but doing it yourself is half the fun."

Xander circled the bound woman and came to a stop in front of her. "Why did you do it, Tara? Why did you betray me like that? And with the little witch and my sire, of all people?"

A single tear slipped down the woman’s cheek, but she remained silent. Her silence only fueled Xander’s anger; he stepped back and slapped Tara across the face.

"Answer me!"

"I don’t know," was Tara’s shaky reply.

Not what he had wanted to hear, but good enough he figured, considering that the woman was insane, and she probably didn’t know why she did anything, not to mention that he didn’t really care about her reasons, he was just prolonging the game.

He stepped away and casually walked to the dresser, retrieving several articles of clothing. Briskly, he walked across the room in the direction of the bathroom. "I’m going to go give the old carcass a scrub, you wait here for me," he said over his shoulder as he walked past the bound woman. He paused, "Not that you can actually go anywhere, considering that you’re chained to the wall and all," he added before entering the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, Xander stripped off his wet clothes and took a shower, not as much because he felt he needed one as to give the woman time to think about what he would do to her. Once he had finished showering, Xander donned what he liked to think of as his "special outfit," the one he had purchased specially for "play time." As he finished dressing and ran his fingers through his wet hair, he wished he could see his reflection in the mirror. He was sure he looked striking, dressed in black leather from head to toe, and wished he could admire the image himself.

Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he stepped into the bedroom. Tara’s head jerked up slightly when he entered the room, but she quickly looked back down. He walked to the open costume armoire, and opened a small drawer that was carefully lined with several knives. After choosing one with a thin, narrow blade, he walked toward Tara, until his face was mere inches from hers.

"Did you like it?" He asked in a low, husky voice, running his hand up the woman’s pale thigh while holding the knife in the other, low enough for the woman to see.

Tara nodded without raising her head.

"Good, at least she knows better than to lie to me," he thought. "Did my sire touch you?"

Again Tara nodded, bringing a cruel smile to Xander’s lips.

"Where did he touch you?" He whispered, bringing his free hand between the woman’s thighs and gently caressing her folds. "Tell me what he did to you, sweet Tara. Tell me everything."

Tara raised her head and gave him a tentative smile. "He sucked on my nipple," she offered.

Xander’s eyes brightened. "Really? Which one?"

Tara motioned with her head toward her right breast.

With a chillingly cruel smile, Xander brought up the knife and slowly made a diagonal slice across the woman’s right nipple. Tara screamed and tried to recoil, but the chains held her securely in place. Xander brought his head down to the bleeding nipple and suckled the blood from it, while his fingers found Tara’s clit and massaged the nub.

In spite of the pain, Tara began to pant, her body having been trained by Xander to respond to his touch. When he noticed her arousal, he pulled his head back and looked into Tara’s eyes.

"You’re such a whore," he hissed.

"Tell me, where else did he touch you?" Xander asked, his voice once again soft.

Tara glanced down to where his hand was wedged between her legs.

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Your cunt? Did he lick you?"

Tara shook her head. "With his fingers, like you’re doing now," she explained hesitantly.

Xander walked around Tara, back to the open armoire. He looked through the selection of whips, each hanging from its hook, until he decided on a heavy, deer skin flogger. Not one of his favorites, too mild for his taste, but he had learned that if he rushed things with Tara, she would just pass out on him, ruining his fun.

He stood a couple of feet away from the woman. "Look at me!" He ordered.

When Tara raised her eyes to his face, he swung the flogger in an upward arc, bringing it up between her legs. The first strike did not carry much force, and Tara hissed between clenched teeth, but did not try to move away. The next couple of strikes were harder and in close succession; by the fourth strike, Tara was whimpering and trying to pull away. Xander brought his arm down and all the way back, striking in an upward arc with all his strength and purposely allowing the ends of the flogger to curl and strike Tara on the buttocks. The woman screamed and flinched away.

"Too hard?" Xander asked with mock concern.

When Tara nodded, Xander smiled cruelly. "Wrong answer! No such thing, bitch!" He yelled as he struck the woman’s bruised skin again with equal force, and continued flogging her until she was sobbing and tears wet her face.

Bored with his game, not really wanting to hear what else the witch and Spike had done with Tara, and remembering his initial purpose of punishing her, Xander tossed the flogger to the floor and rubbed his gloved hands together.

"Well, I think we are all warmed up now. Should we get started, you think?"

Without waiting for an answer, he walked to the armoire and opened another drawer, pulling out a hood, an accessory he’d had made just for his special outfit, and pulled it over his head. Looking longingly at a bull whip, he retrieved a long, leather flogger and went to stand behind Tara, where he had better access to the open armoire. That night, he planed to use every whip in his collection and strip every inch of skin from the woman’s body before he was done, but he also wanted to take his time and make it last.

~Part: 15~

Willow allowed Spike to hold her hand as they walked leisurely down the street. The town didn’t look as different at night as it had in the harsh light of day, and if she didn’t look too closely at the vampires walking by, she could pretend that they were humans and that it was a typical weekend night in Sunnydale, although, she really had no idea which day of the week it was.

She giggled and Spike looked at her questioningly.

"Oh, the tingling sensation in my skin, it tickles once in a while," she explained.

The tingling sensation had actually dulled to a not unpleasant hum that seemed to intensify the longer she didn’t use her magic, but she would still occasionally feel a surge, like mild electricity shoot through her body. She had also discovered that by controlling her emotions she could also control the unintentional bursts of magic.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, with only a hint of concern in his voice.

Willow nodded, and was surprised to find out that she meant it. Talking to Giles had given her new hope that she would soon be setting things right in this world and leaving for her own dimension. The borrowed magic in her body also seemed to energize her and create a mild euphoric feeling, like a light buzz that wasn’t totally unpleasant as long as she didn’t become angry. She had decided to make the best of a bad situation, and, at least for a few hours, ignore her circumstances and live for the moment.

"Still hungry?" Spike asked jokingly, raising an eyebrow and smiling at her.

"Oh no, I don’t think I’m going to eat again for a week!" Willow laughed and scrunched her face in mock disgust.

Their first stop had been Willie’s, and after getting over the creepy feeling she got when Spike ordered his mug of fresh, human blood, Willow had been glad they had stopped there. When she had told Willie that she didn’t want anything to drink, he had suggested that maybe she would be interested in something to eat. The thought of real food had been enough to make Willow’s mouth water, and caused her to ignore everything but her hunger. The only edible things that Xander seemed to keep around the house were cookies and pastries.

She had devoured a cheeseburger, and when Willie informed her that he would charge the cost to Xander’s account, she had ordered a second one, an order of fries and a large coke to wash it all down. The bartender had been a lot more affable than he had been during their first visit. Once he had realized that Spike was not there to wreck havoc, he seemed happy to tend on a human costumer who wouldn’t threaten his life if her order was not just right. Willie had explained to Willow that he still kept a grill in the back, because some of his demon costumers enjoyed the human food. He also reminded her that he was human, and did not eat most of the things that he served to his costumers. He had indicated to Willow that she could stop by for a "real" meal any time she was so inclined, and Willow had smiled her thanks to him around a mouth-full of cheeseburger.

The pair arrived at The Bronze and Spike strode in casually, ignoring the large vampire guarding the door. When no one made an attempt to stop him, Willow followed suit. Once inside, it took Willow a moment to adjust herself to the changes in the place. While structurally the same, the decor was dramatically different, not to mention the clientele. It was so dark and smoky that Willow could barely see. The place was washed in an incandescent purple glow, and bright lights flashed to the hypnotic rhythm techno music being played at deafening decibels. Willow hesitated near the entrance and Spike bent down to talk near her ear.

"If you don’t like it, we can just go home."

Reminded of the prospect of being alone with Spike, Willow shook her head and plastered a smile on her face. "Oh, no. It’s fine. We can stay, for a little while," she screamed over the thundering music.

They made their way to the bar, Spike still firmly clutching Willow’s hand. Spike ordered his customary mug of blood and Willow declined to drink anything. Conversation was impossible over the strident noise in the place, so Willow just leaned against the bar and curiously surveyed the place. She was glad that the poor illumination obscured most of the sights from her view. While most of the patrons were obviously vampires, there were a few humans in the place besides herself, and she seemed to be the only one not on a leash, strapped down, or in a cage high above the dance floor.

She was starting to wonder if it wouldn’t be better to stop postponing the inevitable and just go home, when she felt someone standing next to her. The familiar vinyl clad figure stood rigidly by, staring intently at Spike.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here!" The woman hissed, and Willow recognized her as the woman who had pinched her chin and suggested that Spike beat her earlier at the shop.

She was surprised to discover that the only mark on the woman’s face was an almost faded bruise on her cheek, until she remembered that vampires healed quickly, and it had probably been much worst only an hour earlier.

Willow tensed and inched closer to Spike, anticipating trouble, but Spike seemed unconcerned by the woman’s presence.

"And you’re very stupid to be talking to me. Why don’t you just bugger off before I kick your lopsided ass again," he responded as he casually puffed on a cigarette.

Willow fidgeted nervously. The woman’s attitude and voice grated on her nerves, and she was having a hard time controlling the urge to turn the woman into something small, crawly and slimy.

"Spike, you know I own this place. If anyone should be leaving, and soon, it is you."

Willow’s eyes grew wide at the revelation, and Spike’s confidence seemed to falter slightly with the new information. He glanced around and Willow followed his eyes, noticing the five or so vampires that were gathering around the woman.

Willow knew that her timing could not have been worse, but she was still unable to stop the words that came out of her mouth. "You mean you stole this business from the previous owner."

The woman smiled menacingly. "After I ripped his innards out with my bare hands."

Spike scoffed. "You can eviscerate humans, I’m so not impressed, but it makes me wonder how you and your minions would measure up against a vampire twenty times your age, and a witch."

Willow frowned, looking up at Spike, and wondered if he was implying that he wanted her to use her magic against the woman, not that she was completely averse to the idea.

"Is that a threat?" The woman asked contemptuously.

Spike shrugged. "Just stating the facts, luv. Take it any way you want."

The idea of striking against the woman seemed more appealing to Willow with every word she spoke. She glanced again at Spike, but the vampire’s attention was focused solely on his adversary. An idea started to form in Willow’s head and she felt her body tingle with anticipation. The woman was aggravating her, and if Spike wasn’t going to do anything about it, Willow concluded that she would. She wasn’t sure if it would work, but she felt bold and reckless, and willing to try.

She looked the woman straight in the face as a small smile began to creep across Willow’s lips.

"Bored now," she said sweetly at the same time she pointed her finger to one of the cages hanging high from the ceiling.

The minions gathered around the woman, blinking in confusion when their mistress disappeared. They followed Willow’s eyes upwards and blinked several times, probably trying to figure out how the female vampire had been transported from the floor to the cage, in the blink of an eye. Their confusion didn’t last long however; when they figured out who the culprit was, they rushed Willow and Spike.

Spike was prepared and swung with his fist at the minion closest to him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Willow flinched and put her hand out in a protective gesture, and a second minion went flying across the room, crashing full speed against a wall and bouncing into a group of dancers. Willow felt a surge of power rush through her, and suddenly all of Spike’s talk about a "spot of violence" made perfect sense to her. While Spike continued to throw punches and kicks at the minions, Willow looked around for things she could hurl at them. Her eyes settled on the collection of large, glass bottles on the shelves behind the bar. With a raise of Willow’s eyebrow and a few words whispered under her breath, the bottles began flying like projectiles across the room, sending minions and costumers alike dodging for cover.

Willow watched until there were no bottles left on the shelves, delighting in the mayhem that her little spell had caused, and occasionally smirking at the woman cursing and snarling at her through the bars of the cage. She whirled around when she felt Spike pull on her sleeve urgently.

"Uh ... pet ... I think now would be a good time to make our exit."

After the last bottle had crashed against the wall, the angry crowd had begun to gather around her and Spike until they were encircled completely, their backs against the bar.

"Uh ... ok, Spike ... I’m with you. What’s the plan? Uh ... there is a plan, right?"

Spike raised and eyebrow. "Do you remember when we fought Glory at the tower?"

Willow frowned and nodded, thinking that it was a strange time for a trip down memory lane. However, a smile curled her lips when she realized what Spike was talking about. Never questioning that she could do it, Willow willed the crowd to part. As vampires and demons went flying, clearing a path down the middle of the club, Spike took Willow’s hand and led her in a mad dash out the front door. Once outside, they continued to run for several blocks, until they were certain no one was following and Willow collapsed to the ground gasping for breath.

Her lungs hurt, her head was spinning, the muscles in her legs ached, and Willow thought that she had never felt better in her whole life! Once her breath had returned to normal, she chanced a glance at the vampire sitting on the ground next to her.

She scrunched her face and lowered her eyes sheepishly, but was not able to completely suppress the smile still lurking behind her lips. "Sorry, I think I got carried away."

She was surprised when she heard laughter in Spike’s voice. "Are you kidding, that was bloody great!"

Willow chuckled, still unsure if she should be laughing about her actions. "Did you see the look on the owner’s face when she realized she was trapped in that cage?" She commented, relieving the moment.

"Did you see the way that minion bounced right off that wall?!" Spike offered.

"Oh, oh! Did ... did you see the way that minion’s head twisted all the way around when you kicked him in the face?! That was so weird, the way he was stumbling around with his head facing his ass!" Willow commented, doing an imitation of the minion in question before falling onto her back in another fit of laughter.

"Uh, luv, that’s because I broke his bloody neck! That had to hurt!" Spike exclaimed, not an ounce of remorse in his voice.

Willow stopped laughing when she felt Spike’s fingers brushing lightly over her leg, pushing her skirt up. A tingle of excitement ran through her body and she looked up and down the deserted street.

"Uh ... Spike, we are out in the middle of the street," she pointed out uncertainly as she separated her legs a little in order to allow Spike better access.

He ignored her tentative observation and continued to caress up her leg. Willow gasped when his finger brushed against the curls of her mound.

"Do you feel it? Here?" Spike whispered as he firmly cupped her womanhood.

Willow moaned and pressed herself into his hand. "Oh, I’m definitely feeling ... something."

Spike continued to talk as he kissed his way down Willow’s neck, pausing to lick the now nearly healed wound he had left there earlier, before continuing down to her breasts. "It’s power, Pet. Power to take whatever we want, do whatever we please, anywhere, any time, from anybody." He began to move his fingers, massaging her swelling flesh.

"Uh ... nooo, it’s more like a tingling in my belly and a weakness in my legs ... and Spike, we can’t do this here ... Oh, Spike! ... Do that again!"

Spike flicked her clit with his thumb and he slipped one finger inside her. "Yes we can, Will. Nothing but vampires and demons in this town, luv, and you belong to me. No one is going to question what I do to you or where I choose to do it."

Willow knew that Spike was speaking the truth; any vampire or demon who happened upon them probably wouldn’t even blink at what they were doing, not in this world, but Willow was certain that she would die of embarrassment. She tried to explain that to Spike, between her gasps of pleasure from what his hands and mouth were doing to her.

"But ... Spike ... what if someone sees us?"

Spike growled in frustration as he ground his erection against her thigh. "Then let them watch!"

Mustering what little self-control she had left, Willow pushed Spike’s hand away and scrambled to her feet, nearly regretting it when she felt the almost painful emptiness inside her.

"I ... I can’t, Spike ... not here," she stammered, clenching her fists around the fabric of her skirt in frustration.

Without a word, Spike jumped to his feet and grabbed her by the arm, nearly dragging Willow into the shadows of a nearby alley. He pushed her against the wall and Willow heard the sound of his zipper opening, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet of the night. She knew that Spike was opening his pants, but she was unable to remove her eyes from his as his intense glare pinned her in place. She watched him take a step toward her and she felt the cool evening air caress her bare thighs and buttocks as her skirt was pushed up around her waist. The rough, brick surface of the wall behind her scraped lightly over her buttocks as he lifted her effortlessly, his hands grasping her just below her buttocks.

"Put your hands on my shoulders and wrap your legs around me!" He commanded, in the tone of voice that he used when he expected no arguments.

Willow obeyed, and she felt his fingers move closer to her center, pulling her lips apart and stretching her as he pushed the head of his shaft into her. He had barely prepared her, and Willow felt every inch of him fill and stretch her. A whimper escaped her lips when he pulled nearly all the way out of her, just to repeat the same torturously slow motion during his upward stroke. His eyes had never left hers and Willow trembled, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, and begging him with her eyes as he slowly pulled out her again.

"Damn, Pet, you look so beautiful like this, impaled on my cock, your body trembling, your lips quivering – I wish you could see yourself."

His voice was thick and husky in her ears. The alley offered them partial protection from view and Willow allowed herself to relax and just feel. With each thrust, she could feel the friction of his hard body all the length of her front, the roughness of the brick wall at her back. His hands continued to massage the place where her buttocks met her thighs, his fingers occasionally feeling their way around the place where their bodies joined. His pace became increasingly frantic, and Willow was certain that if she let go of his shoulders, her body would be held up by the sheer force of his frame pressed against her, but she couldn’t bring herself to release the iron grip her hands had on his him. Burying his face into her shoulder, Spike growled, his blunt teeth nipping at the healing scars there. Willow felt his cold seed bathing her hot core; she tensed and sank her teeth into his neck as her body shook with her orgasm.

The whole encounter had taken only a few minutes, but Willow felt suspended against that wall for what seemed like hours as they both gently kissed and licked each other’s necks. Slowly, he pulled out of her and settled Willow on her feet, steadying her for a moment as her numb legs threatened to give way under her.

"Wow," was all she could say as he smoothed the hair back from her face and kissed her lips.

Spike chuckled. "If you think that was ‘wow,’ wait until I get you home," he whispered teasingly in her ear.

Willow giggled, the euphoria brought about by the evening’s events spent, and her shyness returning. She’d had sex with Spike, out in the street, and for the first time she didn’t feel guilty afterwards; it felt right, and she realized that it was, because he was there with her. Spike’s presence seemed to make things that would otherwise feel wrong feel wickedly right, and the thought occurred to Willow that maybe it was because he never judged her actions. It was liberating to be with someone with whom she didn’t feel she had to do the right thing all the time.

"Pet, are you ok?" He sounded concerned and Willow realized that she had been staring blankly at him while she thought.

She nodded her head emphatically, maybe trying to reassure herself more than him that she was, indeed, alright.

"It’s only a few more blocks to the house. You think you can make it or should I carry you?"

Willow looked up at Spike, intending to point out to him that she was not an invalid, when she realized that he was teasing her. Not the biting, sarcastic teasing to which she had grown accustomed to receiving from him, but a light, almost playful teasing, punctuated by a sincere smile.

"Spike is being nice!? This is the part where Xander would tell me to be afraid, very afraid," she thought, the memory of her good friend and what had happened to him in this world dampening some of her feelings of elation.

"I’m fine, I can walk," she said simply.

Spike frowned at her sudden change in mood, but said nothing as he put his arm around her and led her out onto the sidewalk. She allowed him to keep his arm around her waist as they walked the few blocks to the mansion, his fingers clenching occasionally on her skin in a subconsciously possessive gesture.

When they arrived at the mansion, Spike led her around the back to the gardens instead of using the front entrance. They strolled around at a leisurely pace, neither in a hurry to go into the house, but probably for different reasons. Willow tried to discern Spike’s mood; she didn’t remember ever seeing him so taciturn.

"A penny for your thoughts!" She said tentatively.

When he looked down at her and frowned in apparent confusion, Willow smiled.

"You’re so pensive. I was wondering what you were thinking about," she explained.

Spike stopped and whirled her around to put both his arms around her. "I was thinking about you, about us ... I’m in love with you, Will. You believe me now, don’t you?"

His eyes bore into her, waiting for an answer, and Willow almost panicked, not knowing what to say. She still believed that what Spike felt for her was infatuation at most, although she couldn’t think of a single reason why the vampire would become infatuated with her, let alone fall in love, and yet, his words sounded so sincere. She didn’t even know if demons could actually fall in love, but she supposed they could. Telling Spike that she believed him would have been dishonest. She didn’t know what she believed, but she was afraid of his reaction if she answered otherwise.

After a moment’s hesitation, Willow looked up into Spike’s expectant eyes. She was building up the courage to speak her mind to him, when he suddenly looked toward the house and cocked his head. His entire body tensed and Willow looked anxiously between the house and Spike.

"Spike, what is it?"

"I’m not sure," he said absently as he released her and started walking toward the house.

Willow followed behind him, trying to keep up with his long strides. When they entered the main room of the house, Spike stopped and lifted his head as if he was sniffing the air.

"Bloody hell," he swore under his breath. "Willow, stay here!" He barked at her over his shoulder as he ran up the stairs.

Willow never considered heeding his order. She took off after him, following him down the hallway. He came to a stop in front of Xander’s room. Not bothering to try the knob, he kicked the door open and swore again.

Willow was a few steps behind him and she saw him disappear inside the room. As she ran around the corner, her steps faltered and her blood turned cold at the sight that greeted her. Tara was suspended from the walls by chains, her body covered in sweat and blood, her head hanging limply against her chest. But it was the black clad, hooded figure that stood behind her that captured Willow’s attention. She swallowed convulsively as her eyes traveled down the strangely familiar figure and settled on the thin wooden stick it held in its hand. Memories came flooding back, of a similarly clad figure standing behind her in the dark tunnels, a similar stick slamming against her skin, moving sinuously over the sensitive skin between her legs.

Spike’s angry voice reached her ears as if from a distance. "Bloody hell, Xander. I told you to stay away from Tara!" Spike yelled.

Willow eyes locked with the dark beads peering at her from the slits on the hood, a second before Spike crashed into the man, knocking him to the floor. In that split second, she had seen her own panic at recognition reflected there. He knew that she knew.

Transfixed, unable to move or speak, wave after wave of pain and anger crashing inside her and immobilizing her, Willow turned her eyes to Tara, settling on the blood pooling on the floor between the woman’s legs. Part of Willow’s brain was screaming at her to move, to help Tara, to do something, but she was petrified, as if her limbs had turned to stone, too heavy for her too move. And then, the crimson color of Tara’s blood began to spread, covering the floor, bathing the walls, obscuring the ceiling, permeating the air in the room, until Willow felt as if she was engulfed in a cocoon of bright, red light. A loud and primal scream exploded in her ears; she didn’t realize that the sound was coming from her own throat.

~Part: 16~

Spike released Xander’s body, letting it slide to the floor, and swung around as the scream pierced through the haze of his rage. The sound was chilling and primal, unnatural; it reverberated from the walls and thundered in his ears. He saw Willow still standing by the door, her mouth open wide, her delicate appearance incongruous with the sound that was coming from her throat. One by one, the rings which secured the chains that held Tara were ripped from the walls by invisible hands. Spike launched forward just in time to catch Tara’s limp body as it slumped to the ground without the support of the chains.

The scene around him was chaotic. The chains, still attached by the manacles at one end to Tara’s extremities, undulated wildly in the air, striking like iron serpents at everything in their path. All Spike could do was lay low and hold Tara’s already battered body close to him. The scent of blood and sex on her was overpowering and Spike instinctively shifted into game face, struggling to control his demon. Willow seemed unaware of what she was doing; she remained immobile by the doorway, her normally green eyes flashing red, her wailing unabated.

Spike watched Xander struggle to get up from the floor. One of the chains came crashing down on the young vampire’ back, sending him careening back to the floor with a groan of pain.

"Willow, stop!" Spike commanded, his voice barely audible above hers.

Spike’s eyes shifted between the woman standing by the door and the one unconscious in his arms. He knew he had to get to Willow, but that meant leaving Tara unprotected. He suddenly ducked as one of the chains oscillated mere inches from his head.

"Bloody, fucking, hell," he swore under his breath.

His decision made, Spike watched for an opportunity and leapt to his feet, swiftly dodging the angry chains until he reached Willow.

"Willow, make it stop!," He yelled in her face as he tightly griped her arms, shaking her.

The silence that followed was more deafening than the scream had been as Willow turned to glare at him, her eyes blazing. Spike refused to back down, returning her look with a warning glare of his own. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his voice soft.

"Willow, Tara needs your help."

Willow’s eyes shifted between his face and Xander, who sat on the floor, his arms thrown over his head in a protective gesture against the chains that now lay inert; he was panting unnecessarily, whether in fear or from exertion, Spike couldn’t tell. Spike understood her uncertainty at having to choose between helping one person or venting her anger on the other. He moved to the side to allow Willow a view of Tara’s body.

"Go to her, Willow. I’ll take care of Xander," he reassured her.

Willow rushed to Tara and gathered the unconscious woman in her arms, murmuring soothingly to her. In three strides, Spike was across the room, lifting Xander by his shirt and ripping the hood off his head.

"I warned you to stay away from Tara!" He hissed.

Not giving Xander a chance to protest, Spike brought his fist against the younger vampire’s face several times in quick succession, until he felt certain that Xander had given up any attempt at protestation. Spike’s eyes traveled around the room until they settled on the open armoire and its contents.

"Don’t move," he growled lowly at Xander before releasing him and walking to the armoire.

He selected a pair of heavy iron manacles and a length of chain. He also grabbed the ring of keys next to it. Striding back to Xander, Spike motioned for him to offer his hands.

"Which key?" He asked Xander curtly.

Xander pointed at one of the keys. Spike secured Xander’s wrists together with the manacles before attaching the chain to them.

"Which are Tara’s?" He asked, again referring to the keys.

Xander, now strangely compliant, again pointed at the corresponding keys. Without a word, Spike strode over to the bed, dragging a stumbling Xander behind him and slamming him on his back against the mattress. Upon visually inspecting the room, Spike had discovered several sturdy rings strategically place behind the bed, on the walls, on the floor and the ceiling. He pulled Xander’s arms taut above his head and secured the chain to a ring imbedded into the wall behind the bed. Spike yanked on the chain a few times, testing its strength, and grinned in satisfaction. He was fairly certain that the chains were strong enough to hold the young vampire for some time.

"Spike, please, I need your help."

Spike heard Willow behind him and he looked intently into Xander’s eyes. Climbing on the bed, Spike brought his body flush against the young man’s.

"I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere," Spike whispered.

He chuckled when he felt Xander’s member stir under him. The boy would be begging him for mercy before he was through with him, if he didn’t just get bored and dust him first, but Spike wanted to ensure that the he would not try to escape before he returned.

Giving Xander one last twisted, enticing grin, Spike pushed himself off the bed, striding over to where Willow was hunched over Tara.

"I can’t undo the restraints," Willow said urgently.

"Don’t worry, Pet, I got it,"

Spike could not help but feel that he was partly responsible for the situation. Instead of listening to Willow, he should have shown Xander who was in charge from the start. The boy was obviously too stupid for subtle hints and fair warnings, and his recklessness made him dangerous. When he had gone in search of Xander that first day, his intention had been to give Xander a sound beating for hurting Willow and to warn him away from Tara. Spike had thought it wouldn’t do if Xander got carried away and Willow’s girlfriend happened to end up dead – Spike needed her if his plan was going to work. Instead, he had ended up nearly shagging the boy. Spike decided he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. From that moment on, whether Willow liked it or not, Spike was going to show Xander the consequences of crossing someone such as himself.

Spike set to work on unlocking each manacle, startling slightly when Tara’s eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Spike locked eyes with her, but was unable to hold her gaze. He nervously looked away, concentrating on his task of freeing the woman from the manacles. Something about Tara unnerved him. For a moment, her sad eyes had looked at him with a clarity and understanding that belied her mental state. He had seen that look before, in Dru’s eyes. One minute, Dru could be talking to her dollies and gazing at imaginary stars, and the next she would be giving him a look so clear that it seemed to pierce through his long-gone soul."Bloody hell! First I act like a bloody poof with the boy and now I’m letting a half-crazy witch spook me!" Spike thought angrily.

After undoing Tara’s bonds and examining her body for serious injuries, Spike threw a blanket over the woman, promptly hoisting her up in his arms and carrying her out of the room. His rage at Xander’s defiance, combined with the scent of blood in the room, was making it hard to control his demon. He just wanted to tear into something, or someone.

Holding Tara in his arms, he followed a quiet Willow down the halls that led to Tara’s room. As they walked, he carefully studied Willow from the back. Her shoulders were tense, her hands lightly clenched at her sides. Otherwise, there was now a quietness and a calmness about her that unnerved him. He hoped that whatever had happened in that room moments earlier was now over.

When they reached the room, Willow opened the door and Spike non-too-gently deposited Tara on the bed. He wondered if Willow knew how badly hurt the witch was – he had seen people die from far lesser injuries.

Willow moved about as if in a trance, her pupils fixed and dilated, her movements languid. Spike looked up at her with a hopeful expression.

"Willow, do you think you can use your magic to heal her, like you healed yourself?"

"I don’t think so. Whatever was there, I don’t feel it now. I just feel ... I feel ... drained, and angry, very, very angry!" Willow ground out between clenched teeth.

Spike clenched his jaw and looked at the pale body lying on the bed. Blood continued to seep from the wounds, soaking into the sheets, her breathing was shallow and he could hear her heartbeat fluttering erratically. He knew that if he didn’t do something quickly, Tara would die and Willow would never forgive him; there was only one thing he could think of doing. Cursing under his breath, he pushed away from the bed.

"Wait here, I’m going to get some help," he barked as he stalked out of the room.

He strode to the main room of the mansion and picked up on the phone, realizing that he didn’t know the number of the shop. Angrily, he slammed down the phone’s receiver. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Willow and Tara alone in the house with Xander, even if the vampire was securely fastened to his bed.

"Spike, what are you doing?" The anxious voice came from the top of the stairs.

He turned to look at Willow. "I was gonna call Giles, but I just remembered I don’t know the bloody number. I’m gonna have to go get him.”

"Try pushing redial!" Willow suggested without hesitation.

Spike frowned at her, not sure what she was asking him to do.

"I haven’t seen Xander use the phone since we got here, I don’t think he calls many places. Hopefully, the last place he called was the store," she explained.

Spike nodded his understanding and picked up the receiver, pressing the little button which had the word "redial" written above it. The ringing on the other end seemed to go on forever as he waited, with Willow nervously watching from above him.

"Hello?"

Spike sighed in relief when he heard Giles’s sleep laden voice on the other end.

"Rupert, is there a hospital nearby?"

"Spike, please tell him to hurry," he heard Willow say from upstairs before she headed back to Tara’s room.

"What? A what?"

Spike had obviously woken Giles from a deep sleep and the man was having trouble making sense of his words.

"A hospital! I need to find a bloody hospital! Is there one open in town?"

The man’s voice on the other end took on an agitated tone. "No, the hospital has been closed for almost a year now. Dear Lord, Spike! What’s going on? Is Willow alright?"

"Willow is fine. It’s Tara who needs a doctor. Where can I find one?"

Spike’s hopes sank when he heard the ex-watcher’s answer. "Demons are not overly-concerned with humans’ well-being, Spike; we are expendable. There hasn’t been a hospital or any practicing physicians in town for months," Giles explained bitterly. "There are a couple of healers, I can try to find one ..." Giles hesitated before speaking his next words. "How bad is it?" He asked in an uncertain tone, as if he really didn’t want to know the answer but felt he had to ask.

"It’s bad, mate. I don’t think she is gonna make it, but I have to try something, for Willow."

The watcher cleared his throat and Spike could almost see him adjusting his glasses.

"I’ll be right over. I’ve taken care of her before," Giles whispered.

Spike hung up the phone and it occurred to him that Giles had not asked what had happened to Tara, as if he already new. He had the feeling that Giles had made the trip to the house many times before to take care of the injured woman.

Spike quickly poured himself a glass of whisky and drank it down in one swallow, pouring himself another. He paced, waiting for Giles to arrive. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened around the glass. Xander’s timing could not have been worse. Willow had just started to relax around him, and she had even seemed to be enjoying herself earlier that night. If something happened to Tara, whatever progress he had made with Willow would have been lost, and Spike vowed that if he lost Willow over this, he would dust Xander himself.

Not ten minutes later, an agitated and distraught Giles appeared at the door. His clothes were rumpled, his hair in wild disarray, as if he had just jumped out of bed, and he was carrying a small sports bag. Neither man spoke, and Spike led the other up the stairs, to the injured woman’s room. Tara laid on the bed with her eyes closed, the pallor of her skin blending in with the whiteness of the sheets around her. Willow had covered her with a blanket and Spike saw Giles wince when he pulled it back to examine the woman’s body.

Willow sat on the edge of the bed, her body tense, eyes brimming with tears, her mouth set in a grim line. Spike wondered what was going on in her head and if she suspected the gravity of Tara’s condition. His eyes met Giles and he saw his own thoughts reflected there – it was unlikely that Tara would survive.

Spike swirled around and headed for the door with purposeful strides.

"Spike?"

Willow’s soft, questioning voice halted him.

"I have something to take care of. Giles will stay with you," he said simply before walking out.

Spike paced for several minutes in front of the door to Xander’s room, trying to come up with a suitable punishment. His first instinct was to dust the young vampire, but he didn’t know if Willow would approve of such drastic, if efficient, measures. No matter how angry she was, Spike knew that part of Willow still saw Xander as her childhood friend, and he didn’t want to carry the blame if the witch suddenly decided to have an attack of conscience. Still, Xander had disobeyed him and as his sire it was Spike’s right to punish him as he saw fit. Spike smirked as he suddenly saw the circumstances from an entirely new angle. The situation didn’t have to be all bad. Spike’s demon had been thirsting for a decent spot of torture and violence for some time now. It was the perfect opportunity for Spike to let loose, so to speak, and after what he had done to Tara, Spike was fairly certain that Willow would not protest too much as long as Xander wasn’t a pile of dust when he got through with him.

Throwing the bedroom door open, Spike strode over to the bed where Xander was still chained to the wall.

"Time for a bit of fun, boy!" Spike exclaimed as he unhooked the chain from the wall and flung Xander through the air, to land on his back on the hard floor.

A smile began to form on the young vampire’s lips as he stared up at his sire. Spike clenched his jaw and brutally kicked Xander in the groin, relishing the boy’s wail of pain.

"I meant fun for me, not you, you bloody moron!"

Xander’s eyes hardened, shining like polished onyx in the early morning light that filtered through the window. The two vampires locked glares and Spike sneered at the look of defiance in the other’s stare. Although the features were the same, there was little resemblance between the creature lying at Spike’s feet and the bumbling, obnoxious boy that Spike new in his world. This Xander was smug, cruel and confident, too confident for Spike’s taste at the moment.

Spike dragged Xander by the chain still attached to his bound hands until both vampires were standing in the middle of the room. Using his boot, Spike flipped Xander over to lay on his stomach before pressing his foot against the back of the young vampire’s neck, forcing his face into the puddle of blood starting to congeal on the marble floor.

"I told you to keep your hands off Tara, but you just couldn’t fucking listen; could you?"

Xander struggled to lift his head, presumably to answer Spike, but Spike refused to lessen the pressure. He was just ranting, he really didn’t care to hear the boy’s excuses. Incredulous, he watched as Xander’s tongue darted out to lick at the puddle of blood beneath his face. Incensed by Xander’s lack of contrition, Spike leaped onto the bed, running the loose end of the chain through a reinforced hook on the ceiling and jumping back down before starting to hoist Xander’s protesting body to an upright position.

"Spike, you have no right to do this and you know it. Tara is mine! Mine! You have your whore and what I do with mine is not your business!"

Spike smirked at Xander’s protestations. The young vampire was trying to sound confident, but his voice shook slightly.

Once the chain was secured to the wall and Xander’s body hung by his wrists, toes barely touching the floor, Spike stood back and admired the young man. He could not help but feel a surge of pride. Xander was everything any Sire could hope for in a newborn vampire; he was beautiful, cruel, arrogant, strong and devoted. "Too bad he is still such a sodding moron," Spike thought.

Spike spoke casually as he walked to the armoire and began to sift through its contents, his voice betraying none of the anger simmering inside him. "Yours? You think Tara is yours? Let me tell you something, boy," Spike emphasized the word "boy," letting a healthy dose of contempt seep into his tone. "Nothing is fucking yours! We take what we want and keep it until someone else takes it from us, and at that point, if you’re smart, you move on. Tara was yours, until I decided I wanted her and took her, and I don’t fancy anyone touching what is mine!"

With superhuman speed, Spike moved to stand in front of Xander, his yellow, menacing gaze searing into the other’s dilated pupils as he raised the knife he held in his hand, letting the sunlight reflect off the sharp, silver blade. Xander’s eyes flashed yellow before he seemed to reconsider and they returned to their preternatural dark obsidian.

With a hint of an amused smile, Spike squatted in front of the bound vampire, never breaking eye contact with him. Starting at the hem, Spike sliced through the fabric of Xander’s pants with the sharp knife, working his way up one leg and purposely slowing down as he slid the blade a fraction of an inch off the other’s crotch, until he reached the waistband and sliced through it.

"Damn it, Spike! I had this suit custom made, it is ...,"

Xander let his words trail as Spike’s scarred eyebrow shot up. "It’s what, Xander? Were you going to say ‘mine?’" Without warning, he shoved the tip of the knife into the opposite side of Xander’s waist, just above the waistline, and in one fell swoop sliced through fabric and flesh down to the ankle.

Xander hissed as the fabric spread open and fell to the floor, revealing a deep gash and a stream of blood traveling down his leg.

"I was going to say expensive," Xander ground between clenched teeth.

Spike shrugged, unconcerned, and began to slice through Xander’s shirt, starting at the stomach and bringing the tip of the blade to rest against the hollow of the other’s throat, allowing it to nip the skin there. A droplet of blood began to form on the pale skin and Spike leaned forward, lapping gently at the liquid. He felt Xander’s exposed cock stir against his stomach and he latched his lips on the small wound, suckling rhythmically until Xander was fully erect and grinding himself against Spike as best he could without any leverage.

Spike pulled back, a sneer on his face. "Who’s my whore now?" He asked, his eyes traveling over Xander’s torso and settling on the swollen shaft jutting out from between his legs.

"Sire?" Xander asked tentatively.

Spike swiftly slapped the other vampire across the face. "Shut up!"

Xander flinched but he did not protest.

All humor drained from his features, Spike threw the knife on the bed. Swerving around, he ripped the remnants of Xander’s shirt off his body and stood back. His fists clenched, Spike struggled to maintain control. These prolonged games had never been Spike’s forte; he often found he did not have the patience for them. Games had always been Angelus and Drusilla’s pastimes, for Spike it was much simpler to fuck and dust, and move on. But in this case he knew that dusting Xander was not an option, as for fucking him... Spike ran the palm of his hands over his already hardening cock, his eyes taking in the young vampire’s strong back, smooth buttocks and muscular thighs; raising an eyebrow, he let that thought trail and brought his mind back to the task at hand.

His self control and detached facade back in place, Spike lit a cigarette and moved to stand in front of Xander once again.

"Spike. Sire? I...."

Xander’s voice was tremulous, whether from fear or excitement Spike did not know, although the second was more likely than the first. Not giving him a chance to continue, Spike slammed his closed fist against the other’s jaw with bone jarring strength. He watched as Xander’s body swung away from him and he snaked one arm around the young vampire’s waist to steady him as he swung back. The gesture brought the two vampires’ bodies flush against each other and Xander averted his eyes.

"God, you’re one undisciplined whelp! You know that?" Spike snickered, remembering Angelus saying the same words to him nearly a century earlier. "Bloody hell, this whole sire thing is turning me into the bloody poof!" He thought, more amused than distraught. A deceptively warm smile crept across his face, but if Xander had been looking directly at him, he would have noticed that the warmth never quite reached the icy blue eyes.

"I think we need to set up some rules," Spike paused, reconsidering his words. "Nah, never did care much for rules," he concluded with a casual shrug. "I guess you’re just gonna have to learn the hard way."

Not giving Xander time to realize what he was about to do, Spike brought up the lit end of his cigarette and pressed it against one of Xander’s nipples, inhaling deeply the sharp scent of charred flesh mingling with the already existing tang of blood. Xander threw his head back and moaned, his body convulsing in Spike’s tight grip.

Spike stepped back, releasing the tense body and watching it swing slightly before coming to a stop.

"Now, what was it that you wanted to tell me?" Spike questioned as he discarded the now spent cigarette, trying to sound as patient and sagely as Angelus, but not able to contain a grin.

Xander gasped a couple of times before he found his voice. "Spike. Sire, I want you."

Spike made a big production of rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, even though the words had sent a jolt of pleasure straight to the older vampire’s groin and he felt his jeans become uncomfortably tighter. "Flattering, but not what I wanna hear," he informed Xander before unceremoniously punching the other on the stomach.

"Wanna try again?" He asked as the swaying body came to a stop once more.

Xander glanced at Spike warily. "I’m, I’m sorry?"

Spike tilted his head as if he was considering the other’s words. "It’s a start, I suppose, but I don’t think we’ve reached the really sorry stage yet."

Spike thought he saw a glimmer of anticipation in Xander’s eyes as the boy surreptitiously watched him slowly unbuckle his belt and pull the heavy strap of leather out of his pants. "God, did I ever look at Angelus like that? No wonder I spent my first decade as a vampire on all fours, taking it up the ass!"

The rage that Spike still felt, combined with the violence and the mingled scent of Xander’s blood and sexual arousal were screaming at his demon to just take the boy. "Fuck him and kill him, fuck him and kill him," the voice inside Spike kept droning at him. His cool countenance dissolved and, with a roar, Spike brought the belt against the pale flesh of Xander’s chest. He kept landing blow after blow in quick succession, until the boy’s torso was peppered with rising, red welts that quickly faded before Spike’s eyes.

It wasn’t until Spike concluded his volley of blows that he realized that Xander had remained quiet during the assault, except for a few moans and whimpers. He took the boy’s silence as an affront. Words from long ago came back to haunt Spike’s thoughts, "not demon enough." "Not even demon enough to make a disobedient fledgling scream," he thought.

Quickly discarding the belt, unsuitable for the task, Spike strode to the armoire, tearing into the contents until his gaze settled on a familiar whip. The scent of Xander’s blood still clung to the leather and Spike recognized it as the whip he had used on Xander at the shop. Xander must have brought it to the house after that.

Spike turned to leer at the back of the vampire dangling in front if him. "Well, Xander boy, I never figured you to be the sentimental type. Guess I was wrong."

Xander tried to turn his head and look over his shoulder. Three purposeful strides and Spike was on him in a second, his erection grinding against the other’s naked buttocks, his fangs bared and his eyes glowing yellow. He wrapped his free hand into the mane of dark hair and pulled Xander’s head back at a nearly impossible angle.

"You are gonna scream for me you sodding whelp! You’re gonna scream and cum and scream and cum some more – for me! And after that, you’re gonna tell me how sorry you are for disobeying me!" Spike screamed into the other’s ear.

The level of Spike’s anger must have registered on Xander for the first time, because Spike saw and smelled a flicker of trepidation in the boy, before he heard the other’s hissed words.

"Make me!"

And Spike did. Nearly an hour later, Xander lay on the floor in a puddle of blood, both Tara’s and his own, and cold semen. His hands were still shackled but the chain had been released from its hook. Spent and in obvious agony, Xander tried to rise to his feet only to be shoved back down into the viscous pool by Spike’s boot on the back of his neck.

A gasp escaped Xander’s lips, and Spike knew that the force of the shove had driven the nails imbedded into Xander’s stomach further into his body. Spike remembered his excitement when he had found the box of nails in the bottom of the armoire. Bored with the whips and pleased but not nearly satisfied with the amount of screaming Xander had done, an idea had quickly taken shape in Spike’s head. He didn’t know why the box was kept there, and they weren’t nearly as large as railroad spikes, but they would do just fine.

"Hey, Xan, you wanna get spiked?" He had asked conversationally, raising an eyebrow, as if the other vampire truly had a say in the matter. He heard Xander whimper in reply.

The first few nails he had skewered into the top layer of Xander’s skin, forming a star-burst pattern on the pale, muscular stomach, relishing every gasp, whimper and moan that escaped the boy’s lips. With only one nails left in his hand, Spike grinned wickedly, licking his bottom lip as he pinched Xander’s nipple between his fingers. Dread and excitement registered on Xander’s face when he realized Spike’s intentions. With slow and cruel calculation, Spike inserted the nail into the side of Xander’s nipple. His eyes shifted between the boy’s anguished face and the skin he was piercing as he slowly drove the nail through to the other side. A guttural growl suddenly burst from Xander’s lips and Spike felt the vampire’s cold seed spew forth to land on his boot.

Displaying more outrage than he truly felt, Spike stalked to unhook the chain from the wall, letting Xander’s body drop limply to the floor. Quickly returning to the boy’s side, Spike shoved his boot under the other’s face.

"Lick it!" He ordered.

When Xander ignored his order and tried to stand, Spike planted his boot firmly on the other’s neck and shove him back down.

"I said, lick it. Lick your cum off my boot," Spike ground out.

Xander shifted a little, slithering a couple of inches across the floor and obediently doing as his sire had ordered. As Spike, his eyelids heavy with desire, watched the bleeding, whimpering vampire grovel at his feet, he slowly unzipped his own jeans, wrapping his fist around the painfully erect shaft. It had taken all of Spike’s self control to keep himself from cuming several times in the past hour. On more than one occasion, he had needed to step away from Xander and remind himself that he was doing this for Willow, payback for what he had done to Tara, not for self-gratification. But the sight of the other vampire, submissive at his feet, licking his own cum from the boot, was more than Spike could stand. His eyes traveled the length of the bloody and torn back, thinking how easy it would be, how good it would feel to kneel behind Xander and shove his cock into the other’s exposed and vulnerable ass. He doubted that the boy would go blabbering to Willow about his Sire fucking him; she would never have to know.

"You would know, you bloody wanker!" Spike told himself.

With a deep groan, Spike started to move his fist over his cock, knowing that it wouldn’t take much.

When Xander tried to move away from Spike, the older vampire let a warning growl rumble from his chest.

"Look at me!" He ordered, his words more groans than speech.

Xander obediently looked up, fixing wide eyes, clouded with pain, on the vampire standing above him.

"Tell me you’re sorry!" Spike managed to ground out.

"I’m sorry, Sire," Xander responded, his voice barely a whisper but loud enough for Spike’s sensitive hearing.

"Who does Tara belong to?"

"You, My Sire."

"Who is my whore?" Spike demanded.

Xander hesitated for a moment, probably grappling for the answer that Spike wanted to hear. "I am, Sire."

"Who do you belong to?"

"You, My Sire."

"Tell me you’re sorry."

"I’m sorry, Sire, I’m sorry, please Sire, I’m sorry, please forgive me, Sire."

With a growl, Spike came, watching as his seed shot out and smeared Xander’s face and chest. Jaw clenched, Spike stepped back and tucked himself back into his pants, Xander still kneeling at his feet.

Through his post-climatic haze, Spike felt a presence in the room, someone was watching him. He turned clear blue eyes, still clouded with the remnants of desire, toward the door.

"Bloody hell! Bloody, fucking, hell! Fuck, fuck, fuck! How long has she been standing there?"

Spike watched Willow standing just inside the doorway, her clothes and hands still stained with Tara’s blood. He saw her eyes shift nervously between him and Xander, and a glimpse of alarm cross her face before her features settled into an unreadable mask.

"Tara is resting. Giles said he will stay with her. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed now," she said simply before turning around and quietly closing the door behind her.

Spike frowned and clenched his fists. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He suspected it wasn’t going to be that easy. Willow was probably in shock and not able to deal with the situation immediately, but he knew he had not heard the last of it.

With an angry jerk, he hoisted Xander up by the chain, hurriedly running it through the ring in the ceiling and again securing it to the wall. After dangling his own weight from the chain to ascertain that it was secure and that Xander would not be able to yank himself loose, he walked up to face the younger vampire. His face mere inches from the other’s, Spike growled. "You weren’t even worth the bloody wank," he hissed, before turning around and storming out of the room.

Without hesitation, he headed in the direction of Willow’s and his bedroom. He had to make her understand, she had to understand. As he approached their bedroom, Spike heard the shower and he continued on to the bathroom. The door was unlocked, as usual. He stepped inside the bathroom and took his clothes off, quietly slipping into the shower behind Willow. She was standing under the spray, her eyes closed, her hands against the wall for support; she didn’t acknowledge his presence.

Tentatively, Spike wrapped his arms around her waist. "I did it for you, for you and Tara. You know that. Don’t you?"

She stepped back, away from the spray of water, and Spike moved with her.

"No you didn’t, Spike. You did it for you, because it made you feel powerful, in control, because you could."

Her tone sounded flat and strangely, Spike detected no accusation in her voice. It was merely a statement of fact. Her coldness shocked him more than any insult she could have hurled at him. She started to step out of the tub and then paused, her back turned to him.

"We heard. For an hour, we listened to Xander’s screams and we did nothing to stop it. It wasn’t like we discussed it and agreed. We just chose to ignore it."

A whispered confession, Spike realized, and before he could think to react she was gone.

Spike finished washing the blood from his hands and face, pondering the entire time the significance of her words. Did it mean she approved? Or was she just feeling guilty for not stopping him? Did she forgive him or did she simply didn’t care about what he had done? The questions weighed heavily on Spike’s mind, but by the time he entered their room, Willow was already in bed, the covers pulled tightly around her body, her back turned toward his side of the bed. Silently, Spike slipped in next to her, careful not to brush against her body because he knew she was not asleep.

"Give her time. For once in your wretched life show some restraint and give her time. Tomorrow," he told himself.

~*~

Willow moaned and sank further under the blanket when she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. When the hand became more insistent and she heard a voice calling her name, Willow slowly opened her eyes. She sat up quickly when she saw Giles hovering over her, then gathered the blanket around her when she remembered that she was naked.

"What is it Giles? Is Tara ... ok?"

Willow knew that Tara wasn’t "ok," but she prayed that the woman had not taken a turn for the worse. "Please, please, please, don’t tell me," she chanted silently.

"There is a problem. Tara is gone."

"Wha – what? Gone, oh my God, you mean...?" Willow’s words caught in a sob.

"Bloody hell, I’m gonna dust that whelp!" She heard Spike next to her and felt him leap from the bed.

Giles raised his hands in a placating manner, shaking his head. "No, I don’t mean she is dead, I mean she is gone. I went into town to see if I could get some more supplies, maybe something for the pain, and when I came back she wasn’t in the room."

The three exchanged confused looks, searching each other’s eyes for a possible explanation. They knew that Tara was too weak to go anywhere on her own. Spike was the first to react. Not bothering to get dressed, he ran out the door. Willow hastily wrapped the blanket around her body and followed him, with a limping Giles trying to keep up behind them.

Spike threw the door to Xander’s room open and Willow peered in from behind him, afraid of what she might see this time. The room was empty. Spike walked up to the chain that still dangled from the ceiling and took it in his hand, examining the cuffs.

"Bloody, fucking hell!" He exclaimed, shoving the chain aside and letting it swing a few times.

~Part: 17~

Willow stared in confused horror at the oscillating chain.

"Spike, I don’t understand, how did he get loose?" She asked once she had found her voice.

"There’s an emergency release on the cuffs, I never even checked. The sodding brat was just waiting for me to leave him alone so he could escape, and I bet he took Tara with him. I’ll check the rest of the house. Rupert, stay with Willow." Not waiting for an answer, Spike stormed out of the room.

Willow’s thoughts reeled as she listened to Spike’s words while she watched the chain’s motion slowly wind down until it came to a full stop. It took her a moment to realize that Spike had left the room and that Giles was still standing next to her, quietly watching her.

"I think I know where he took her," she whispered absently, turning to look at Giles, "the tunnels under the town."

Giles seemed to become agitated at her words. "What makes you think he would go there?"

"Because that’s where he took me," Willow explained flatly.

Giles tilted his head slightly. "When? When did he take you there?"

"When you found me. It was him. I didn’t realize it until I saw him with Tara." Her own words seemed to snap Willow out of her shock induced stupor. "Giles, I haven’t told Spike! He has to know, if they are in the tunnels, wouldn’t he be able to scent them?"

Giles frowned. "Yes, I suppose he could ..." He let his words trail.

He looked sadly down at Willow and the woman got the impression that there was something that Giles wasn’t telling her, something that she didn’t want to hear. She found his look of compassion unsettling.

"Giles, what’s the matter? You don’t think that they are in the tunnels?"

The ex-watcher sighed. "No, I’m afraid that is the most likely place," he finally conceded.

"Then, what’s wrong?"

"You can’t tell Spike about the tunnels."

Willow shook her head, frowning, trying to make sense of his words. If he agreed that Xander and Tara were probably somewhere in the miles of tunnels beneath the town, and Spike could pick up their scent if they were there, why wouldn’t he want her to tell Spike?

"But, why?" She protested.

"Willow, you have to trust me. There’s too much at stake here to take such a risk. I risked everything once already by sending him there to look for you, and we got lucky. I’m afraid that won’t be the case this time."

Willow heard Spike’s steps approaching in the hall. Giles grasped her arm.

"Willow, trust me, don’t say anything!" He whispered urgently.

Willow thought he sounded almost desperate. Whatever his reasons, she knew it was important. Too much at risk, he had said. Tara’s life was at risk, wasn’t that enough? She nodded, not sure why she was agreeing to his strange request, but she trusted Giles more than she trusted anyone she knew. If he didn’t want her to say anything, he must have had his reasons, they would just have to find another way to locate Tara.

"They are not in the house," Spike announced when he entered the room. "Giles, how long were you gone?"

"No more than an hour, and I came to get you as soon as I realized that Tara was missing."

"It’s probably too soon for word to have gotten around, but I’m gonna hit the streets anyway, see what I can find out. Willow, stay here with Giles; I doubt that Xander will return to the house."

Willow looked into Spike’s fathomless blue eyes and saw something there that she had only seen once before in the vampire, when he had first gotten the chip implanted and had come to them for help; it was desperation. She had the overwhelming urge to throw her arms around him and tell him that she knew where to start looking, that they would go together and get Tara back. She wanted to hear Spike tell her that everything would be alright. Not until that moment had Willow realized how much she depended on Spike’s optimism to get carry her through. Their goals weren’t always the same, more often than not they way diametrically opposed, but Spike had always given her the impression of having a trump card hidden under his sleeve. To see his resolve falter was unsettling. The feel of Giles gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"You go ahead, Spike. We’ll be alright," Giles reassured him.

Tearing his gaze from Willow’s, Spike spun on his heels and walked away. He had left without saying a word to her and Willow got the ominous feeling that somehow everything had changed and that nothing would ever be alright again.

Once she had heard the front door close, Willow turned to look at Giles. "Giles, what’s going on? Please tell me there is a good reason for me to be risking Tara’s life."

Giles sighed. "There is and I’ll tell you, but first we must find you something to wear. We don’t have much time."

Softly closing the door behind them, Willow led Giles to Tara’s room. The clothes that she had worn the previous day were stained with Tara’s blood. She needed to find something else to wear. She angrily rummaged through the miserly contents of the closet. There were only a few dresses hanging there, most of them old and tattered. Apparently, Xander had decided early on that Tara didn’t need to wear clothes. She took a flowing, green dress from its hanger, deciding that it would have to do. It was one of those one-size-fits all dresses with a matching sash and it seemed to be in fairly wearable condition.

"Turn around," she indicated, remembering that Giles was still standing behind her. When he did as she requested, Willow quickly dressed. Feeling a little more confident now that she was wearing something besides a bed sheet, she decided it was time for Giles to answer some questions.

"Ok, now, why didn’t you want me to tell Spike to look in the tunnels?"

Giles turned around to face her and Willow got the impression that he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "Haven’t you wondered how I knew where to find you after you went missing the last time?"

Willow frowned. She was certain that the question had crossed her mind at some point, but so much had happened so fast that she had not had time to ponder it.

Giles continued. "For the past year, I’ve been trying to find a way to reverse the spell and send the vampires back into the shadows. There are a few others who have been helping me, but they don’t know the details and we all felt it was better that way for all concerned. I was very close to an answer when you arrived; I had narrowed the possible spells to three, found the counter spells and gathered most of the materials necessary. Yesterday, you provided the missing piece of knowledge that I needed, the exact spell you used. I wanted more time to further research the potential repercussions of the spell, but it appears that we no longer have that option. Everything is in place now to do the reversal spell – and Willow, I need you to do it."

Willow hesitated, not wanting to get her hopes up only to have them dashed again; she had been through that too much lately.

"But, the Orb of Chishleen. You said that without that, there’s nothing we can do."

"I have one," Giles informed her. "From the beginning I had my suspicions that a Summoning of Chishleen spell could be one of the culprits, the orb was one of the first items I set about trying to locate. I got lucky about two months ago, when one of my contacts found one and managed to get it to me before he was killed."

Willow still wasn’t convinced. It was too easy, too simple. Find Tara, do the spell, we are home. Could it really be that simple? Could they be that close?

"Giles, I don’t think I can do the spell. I ... I got mad, when I saw ... Tara, I think all the energy that had been building up in me just ... it was ... like it just exploded out in one burst, and I don’t know why, but I don’t feel it like before ... I don’t feel it, at all," she concluded in a small voice.

Willow had been waiting for the surge of power that she had enjoyed each time she had used her magic, the exhilaration that came with it. But she was starting to be honest with herself; the feeling was not coming back, and she missed it. The realization made her feel even more vulnerable and afraid. Giles didn’t seem too concern with the new development and Willow frowned.

"That makes sense," he whispered absently.

"Huh? It does?"

He looked around the room, as if he was trying to avert her eyes. "The potion. Borrowing energy was a spontaneous reaction to your own powers been suppressed by the potion."

Willow was trying to make sense of his words. "Potion? You mean, I was drugged?"

"No, not drugged ... exactly. But every time you ate or drank anything in this house, it was laced with a binding potion."

Willow tried to think back to everything she had drunk or eaten since her arrival. She thought about the water that the minions had offered her while she was been held captive.

"Giles, if you knew this, why didn’t you tell me?" She asked, feeling slightly betrayed.

"I couldn’t. I didn’t know ... if I could trust you," he whispered, as if he was embarrassed by his own confession. "But I did consider the possibility that I would need you to do this spell, so I started diluting the potion after I talked to you the first time. Like I said, I was hoping we had more time."

Willow felt excitement course through her in spite of her feelings of betrayal and confusion. "You mean my powers are not bound anymore?" She asked excitedly, if guardedly.

"Not entirely, but I doubt that all the effects of the potion wore off in such a short span of time. The fact that you’re no longer instinctively drawing power from an alternate source would indicate that your powers are slowly returning."

Willow shook her head in frustration. "Giles, can we get to the point on this? Can I do the spell or not?" She asked, exasperation leaking into her tone.

"The timing is not ideal, but hopefully, yes. Just try to save whatever energy you have left for the spell, just in case."

A smile spread across Willow’s lips and her heart was pounding in her chest. If Giles had the orb, and she had enough of her power back to do the spell, now all they needed to do was find Tara, perform the spell and she could go home again. She ran to Giles, throwing her arms around him. After a moment, she managed to control her elation and pulled slowly away from him.

"Giles, that’s wonderful! But, what does that have to do with letting Spike help us find Tara?"

"After vampires discovered that they were immune to sunlight, they developed an aversion to the subterranean tunnels they had been previously forced to inhabit. The tunnels were abandoned and were, therefore, the best place for me to hide my work. Everything, including my books, notes and supplies are hidden in those tunnels. I was down there doing research when I ... uh ... heard you. That’s how I knew where you were."

Willow nodded her understanding. If Spike happened to run across Giles’s books while searching the tunnels, he would destroy all the supplies and kill Giles. Willow understood Giles reasoning, but it left one question unanswered.

"Giles, those tunnels go on for miles, how are we going to find Tara?"Sshe asked, her voice catching.

She watched as Giles nervously ran the fingers of one hand through his tussled hair. "I’m sorry, Willow, we don’t have time to look for Tara. It is only a matter of time before Spike gets tired of asking questions and thinks of looking in the tunnels, and if Xander is down there right now ... even if we found Tara, how are we going to deal with Xander? It’s just too much of a risk, Willow, I’m sorry."

Willow shook her head as tears of sadness and frustration gathered in her eyes. Her thoughts scrambled to come up with an alternative to leaving Tara behind at the mercy of Xander, but kept hitting the same brick wall.

She felt Giles wrap his arms around her shoulders. "I wish we had more time, I really do, and not just because of Tara. There is something that has been bothering me since I spoke to you yesterday and I wanted to tell you, but we were interrupted by Spike."

Willow looked up at Giles’ solemn face through her tears. "Tell me what?"

"I have a suspicion that this world’s reality was not altered by your spell. I don’t know of any deity that has that kind of power."

Willow nodded her agreement; she had reached the same conclusion. "I think that this world was created from my memories when I cast the spell ... but, that doesn’t mean you are not real ... I mean, you are real ... you just weren’t before I cast the spell ... but you are now, you know." Willow was trying desperately to reassure her friend that just because his memories prior to the spell were not real, it didn’t mean that his life now didn’t matter. "Dawn was created and her memories implanted, and we all love her, Buffy even died for her. You are real, Giles."

Giles smiled patiently at her. "I know that Willow, but you don’t understand, this is different."

Willow frowned. "Different? How?"

Giles removed one arm from her shoulders to adjust his glasses. "From what I understand of the spell, there is a possibility that this world will cease to exist once the spell is broken, and we along with it."

Willow’s eyes widened at the other’s words. The thought had not crossed her mind. If a deity didn’t have the power to alter a world’s reality, how could it have the power to remove an entire world from existence? She voiced her reasoning to Giles.

"I don’t know. You may very well be right. But this world and everyone in it was created solely for the purpose of granting your wish. Rules that apply elsewhere may not apply here. I wish I had more time to research this ..." Giles concluded with a wishful sigh, before regaining his composure and once again sounding like Giles the Watcher. "So you see, even if we could find Tara, get her away from Xander, and perform the spell, it may not make any difference as to what happens to her, to us."

"But, what if you’re wrong? What if I cast the spell and I leave and you all continue to exist."

Giles grasped Willow’s arms and she knew that he was growing frustrated with her protests, but she just had to know what was going to happen to all of them. "Then things will change. Once the vampires are no longer powerful enough to walk in the daylight, more humans will be willing to fight them. I’ll be here, and if Tara is still alive, I’ll do my best to find her, I promise you that. Willow, there really is no choice, and we are running out of time."

Willow hung her head in defeat. Giles was right. She couldn’t remain in this world, and the hellish dimension she had created could not continue to exist as it was. The only chance they had was for her to cast the counter spell. After all she had done, she owed Giles and every human in this world at least that much. She cast one last, forlorn look around the room and steeled her resolve, trying to shake the image of Tara’s accusatory eyes boring into her.

"I’m ready," she whispered.

The drive through town was a quiet one. Willow stared out the window, taking a last look at her creation, wondering what would become of them, what would become of her. She knew that this time, whatever happened once she cast the spell, it would be for the best. Still, she could not help but wish for the impossible, that she could take it all back, that she would have never cast the spell in the first place. "The lesson in all this," she concluded, "is that some things, once done, can never be taken back."

Giles parked the old, decrepit car into the parking lot in the back of the shop and Willow stepped out. She numbly followed Giles through the back entrance, down the basement steps and through the trap door that led to the tunnels. Once under ground, the only illumination available was the dim light of a gas lamp that Giles used to lead the way. Tears were clouding Willow’s vision, causing the light in front of her to shatter into dozens of small, multicolor sparkles. "Tara thinks sparkles are pretty," she mused with a sad smile.

They came to a stop in a small alcove and Giles set the lamp down. Willow watched as Giles opened a small chest and retrieved a leather bound volume, opening it before handing it to Willow. She read through the page while Giles retrieved the other supplies from the box and began to draw and consecrate the circle. The spell was similar to the one she had performed for Spike, with a few slight variations. It was written in Giles’ small but neat handwriting, and the wording was very precise; she silently complimented the man’s spell writing abilities.

She was engrossed in the reading when she suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand and a shiver run through her spine. Before she could react, she felt a cold, strong arm snake around her torso. Willow screamed, dropping the book.

"Stay where you are, Rupert. I swear I’ll rip your bloody heart out before the chip has a chance to fry my brain, and that will still be too good for you!"

Willow watched Giles clumsily pivot around to face her, his eyes reflecting the apprehension that she felt tearing at her gut. Her eyes quickly darted to the ground at Giles feet, praying that he had not yet pulled out the orb. She knew that there was no way that Spike wouldn’t recognize the object and deduct their intentions. Her heart sank when she saw the small globe, practically glowing by the light of the lamp.

"Shit!" The expletive hissed through her lips.

"That too, luv, but I was thinking more along the lines of ‘what the fuck is going on here’?!"

Willow tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. For a few tense seconds no one either spoke or moved, each trying to gauge the other’s intentions. She knew that she had to come up with a plan and quickly. The best she could think to do was to distract Spike and give Giles an opportunity to hide the orb.

Slowly turning around to face him, she looked up at his face, beseeching his eyes to meet hers. "Spike, what are you doing here, how did you find me?" She was surprised by how calm her words sounded in contrast with her inner turmoil.

"See, Pet, there’s something that has been bothering me for a while now, ever since I found you here in the tunnels. Rupert here wasn’t very clear about how he knew where you were in the first place. It occurred to me, after I had left the house, that I had left you there with the one person who knew where you were the last time, and that maybe the reason he had known where to find you was because he was the one who hired those sodding idiots to kidnap you in the first place."

Willow’s thoughts scrambled to integrate the new information into her plan. Spike wasn’t suspicious of her, it was Giles he didn’t trust. "You think that Giles was the one who kidnapped me?" She asked in surprise.

"Think about it, Will, how else could he have known where you were, and why would he bring you here again?"

Spike raised his eyes from Willow’s face to look at the watcher as he spoke. Willow felt his arm jerk and his body tense, and she tried to suppress the urge to look behind her. Instead, she tried to bring his attention back to her.

"Spike, that’s crazy ... Giles would never…"

Spike silently moved her aside, his eyes still riveted on the man in front of him. He took a couple of menacing steps toward Giles. "Don’t think that the sodding chip in my brain is going to stop me from giving you what you deserve!" He ground out menacingly.

Willow was beginning to panic. It was obvious that Spike was not thinking rationally, and she didn’t know to what extent the chip would prevent him from harming Giles. She threw herself at him, clinging desperately to his arm.

"Spike, no, wait! You’re wrong, it wasn’t him!"

Spike turned his cold eyes on her. "I thought you said you didn’t know who it was," he stated, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Willow mentally willed the watcher to hurry up and hide the orb while she looked up into Spike eyes.

"I didn’t know, not then ... but I do now. It wasn’t him, Spike, it was Xander. I knew when I saw him with Tara, the hood, the cane ... it was him, Spike, I’m sure of it."

Spike looked as if she had just slapped him across the face. "Xander?! Bugger all! Why would the moron do something like that, knowing that I would dust him if I ever found out?"

"I don’t know. Maybe because he was jealous ..."

"Or maybe because he wanted you for himself," Spike concluded, clenching his fists.

He was breathing harshly and Willow was more aware than ever of the fact that he did not need to breath. His jaw was clenched and Willow wished she knew what he was thinking. Slowly, his eyes shifted from Willow to Giles, and back again.

"Then what the bloody hell are you two doing here?"

Willow vacillated a little too long before coming up with an explanation and then it was too late. Spike was already angrily striding toward Giles, his eyes fixed on the trunk behind him. Willow’s eyes scanned the floor but she didn’t see the orb; she realized with no small measure of relief that Giles had managed to hide it while she spoke to Spike.

Storming past Giles, Spike ripped into the contents of the trunk, pulling out books and journals, tearing at the pages and hurling the covers against the walls. Willow watched in horror as Giles tried to placate Spike to no avail.

"Spike, please, some of those books are very rare, very valuable. Dear Lord, just stop!"

Willow began to back away from the two men, not sure what she was supposed to say or do. It seemed that every time she came close to a solution, someone or something intervened to send things spiraling out of her control again. Paralyzed by fear and uncertainty, all she could do was watch as Spike destroyed in a few seconds Giles’ work of the past year.

Once the trunk was empty, Spike lifted the wooden box and sent it crashing against the wall. It splintered into a dozen pieces. A deathly quiet settled over the room as Spike stared at the ground with a frown. Willow followed his eyes and saw what he was frowning at. On the floor, in the space that had been concealed behind the trunk, was the orb of Chishleen.

Giles launched himself at the vampire as he attempted to reach for the orb. Willow was spurred into action and she dove for the sphere at the same time that Giles pushed Spike out of her way. She doubted that Giles could hold Spike back for long, but maybe with the advantage of the chip, and the circle already drawn, she still had enough time to complete the spell. Picking up the book from the ground and stepping into the circle, she scrambled to find the page and began to recite.

"Chishleen, Emor, Twilight,

Maiden of Shadows, Goddess of Tides..."

Willow heard the vampire howl in pain as his fist must have connected with the watchers body, activating the chip. She ignored the commotion in front of her and tried to concentrate on the words instead.

" ... Sun and Moon, Day and Night ..."

A slight rustling noise behind her caught her attention. Willow looked over her shoulder but could see nothing in the darkness. Returning her attention to the book, she strained to read the words in the dim light. "Why couldn’t Giles just write the letters a little bit bigger?" She thought with exasperation as she squinted her eyes.

She again heard the same noise behind her, this time accompanied by a soft sigh. Whirling around, she called out into the shadows.

"Who ... who is there?"

Behind her, Spike and Giles continued to struggle, the watcher using his weight to hold down the vampire, Spike howling every time he attempted to dislodge the ex-watcher and the chip sent another current of pain through his brain.

Willow took another step out of the circle and into the darkness around her, straining to hear an answer. A soft voice reached her ears.

"Willow, come here," the voice whispered.

Willow stopped moving and frowned. "Tara? Tara is that you?"

The voice sounded like Tara’s, but it was too faint for Willow to tell.

"Willow, what are you doing? Come here," the voice whispered entreatingly.

Willow remained still and squinted her eyes, trying to see past the circle of light around them.

"Tara, if that’s you, come closer, let me see you."

A wide smile spread across Willow’s lips as she watched Tara step forth from the shadows.

"Tara! Come here! Step into the circle with me!" She exclaimed excitedly. If she could establish some physical contact with Tara and complete the ritual at the same time, there was still a chance that she could take Tara with her!

When Tara made no move toward her, Willow stepped out of the circle and walked toward the woman, her hand extended entreatingly.

"Come on Tara, we don’t have much time!"

As Tara reached for her hand, Spike’s shouted warning sounded behind Willow.

"Willow, don’t! Get away from her!"

Too late Willow tried to move back into the circle. She felt Tara grasp her wrist in an iron-like grip and watched in horror as the girl’s face contorted and shifted, her eyes gleaming yellow in the penumbra. Willow screamed and tried to pull away, but Tara was holding her in place, her face coming closer.

Giles rushed to Willow’s aid while Spike struggled past the pain in his head to get on his feet. Giles hit Tara on the face several time and Willow watched as the woman’s head jolted with each blow, bouncing back like a rag doll’s, a cruel smile further distorting her features, her grip on Willow’s arm never faltering.

Willow glanced behind her as she screamed desperately.

"Spike, Spike! Please, help us!"

A low, mocking voice reached her ears from the other side of the tunnel. Willow saw Xander leering at her from just beyond the light.

"Oh, I think Spike is a little indisposed at the moment. But don’t worry, Will, Tara is going to take good care of you. Aren’t you baby?" He concluded, winking at Tara.

Tara smiled widely and swung her free arm, slapping Giles in the face and sending the man reeling backwards.

"Come here, lover. Give me a kiss," she said to Willow, baring her fangs as her arms came around the terrified woman.

"Nooooo!" Willow screamed, squeezing her eyes shut.

An instant later she felt herself fly through the air and landing hard on her side. She opened her eyes and saw Spike above her, his fists pounding against Tara’s stomach and face. Giles was still on the ground, apparently dazed from the blow he had received from Tara. Xander was quickly advancing toward Spike and Tara.

The next few minutes were chaotic. Willow remained on the floor for a few seconds, stunned by the mayhem around her. Her thoughts were torn between running to Giles’ aid, warning Spike about Xander’s approach, dealing with the newly discovered fact that Tara was a vampire and that Spike would more than likely kill her, and her urgency to complete the spell.

"Spell, spell, spell ... there’s nothing more that you can do here, just complete the spell," Willow chanted to herself, willing her numb limbs to move.

Trying not to attract attention to herself, Willow crawled to the circle where the book and the sphere lay. She frantically turned the unnumbered pages, trying to find the correct spell. She didn’t see Tara advancing on her until she heard Giles’ shout, and turned her head just as Tara’s body disintegrated before her eyes in a cloud of dust. Willow watched agape as the ashes floated to the ground to reveal Giles standing in front of her, the wooden stick he used as a cane gripped tightly in his hand, the jagged end pointed forward.

An irate, primal scream echoed through the tunnels. Willow saw Xander turn away from Spike, who looked enraged and had been tearing into the younger vampire with claws and fangs, and launch at Giles. She shouted a warning and scrambled backwards out of the way. Giles stabbed at Xander with the cane, but missed his mark, impaling the vampire through the shoulder instead of the heart.

Willow looked around frantically for Spike and saw him advancing toward her. For a moment, she thought that he was going after Xander, but then he hesitated, his eyes shifting between Xander and the orb openly displayed on the floor. When the young vampire released his hold on Giles and disappeared down one the corridors, Spike continued to advance, his yellow eyes boring into Willow as he reached the circle and took the orb in his hands.

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "Please, Spike, don’t. Please, I want to go home, just let me go home," she wailed as tears of terror, pain, horror, and regret ran unheeded down her cheeks. Spike stood looking at her for a moment, as if he was considering her request, before setting his jaw into a determined expression and crushing the fragile orb with one hand.

Willow sobbed as her last hope of getting home shattered before her into a dozen splinters of glass. Vaguely aware of Giles attacking Spike with his cane and Spike writhing in pain as he countered the ex-watcher’s attack, Willow crawled away into the dark. Exhausted and feeling devastated, she collapsed into a corner, holding her knees tight against her chest as she sobbed loudly.

Her cries drowned out everything going on around her, until she felt a cold hand clamp on her mouth and she found herself hauled backward into the dark tunnels. She tried to pull the hand off her face, but found her arms held down as Xander pulled her close to his body.

"I guess things didn’t quite work out the way I planned. Real shame about Tara. Bitch was too fucked up to save her; had to turn her instead. Was looking forward to seeing how much torture she could endure as a vamp. But on the up side, I have you for that now," he whispered harshly into her ear, all the while pulling her further into the tunnels and away from Giles and Spike.

Willow struggled against the arms holding her, trying to ignore his cruel words and kicking desperately at the front of his legs. She wanted to scream at him that Spike was going to tear him apart when he found him, but his large hand was covering her nose as well as her mouth and Willow couldn’t make a sound without feeling that her lungs were going to explode and she would pass out. It seemed like they moved through the tunnels endlessly, taking several turns. The blackness around her was oppressive. She could see nothing except for the fleeting rays of sunlight that cascaded down from an occasional manhole above them. Closing her eyes tightly, Willow lessened her struggles in an attempt to conserve oxygen and stay conscious.

She opened her eyes when they came to a sudden stop and Xander loosened his grip on her face. Twisting her neck, Willow looked up at his face but the vampire was staring intently into the darkness ahead of them. Willow squinted her eyes and studied the impenetrable black blanket in front of her. In the distance, she could see a ray of sunlight coming down from the roof and she pushed hard against Xander’s arm when she saw Spike step into the light. She took one large gulp of air into her lungs before opening her mouth and letting out a wailing scream.

She heard Xander swear behind her.

"Fuck it!" She heard him exclaim before bringing the hand that had previously covered her mouth up to her forehead and pushing her head back.

She saw Spike running toward her, heard him scream her name, and as she felt Xander’s fangs sink into the flesh of her neck, she thought that he was too far away and he would never make it to her on time.

The initial pain subsided and the sound of Xander suckling at her neck, drawing the blood from her body, seemed unnaturally loud next to her ear. As darkness engulfed her, Willow saw Spike, still running toward her, his mouth opened wide in a scream that was drowned out by the sound of her life-blood rushing out of her body and into Xander’s mouth.

Her last conscious thought, before the image of Spike receded and her body went limp, was that she didn’t resent Spike. That, like herself, he had tried to do what he thought was best. As everything around her faded into darkness, she consoled herself with the thought that, even if everything had gone wrong, they had both acted with good intentions.

~Epilogue~

Dim, artificial light filtered in through the slits of Willow’s half-closed eyelids as consciousness returned. She didn’t move, allowing her senses time to adjust to her surroundings. The ground was cool and unyielding under her back. She felt cold and a momentary wave of nausea overwhelmed her.

She closed her eyes again and moaned, not sure what had happened or where she was. The last thing she remembered before she had obviously fainted was Xander, holding her in an iron grip, and the searing pain of his razor sharp fangs slicing through the flesh in her neck. Dimly, she recalled seeing Spike through the haze of her pain and thinking that he was too late ... too late to save her.

Her eyes shot open, sending everything around her into a dizzying spin. As her vision came into focus, she saw only the ceiling above her before Spike’s face moved into view, his blue eyes conspicuously shiny.

"‘Been out for a while. Had me a bit worried there, Red," he said softly.

Willow looked frantically around at the oddly familiar surroundings, unable to immediately identify their location. Panic and confusion overwhelmed her and she almost started to cry.

"Oh ... Spike, no ... you didn’t ... please tell me you didn’t ... you didn’t make me ... like you," she whispered, shaking her head as if her negative gesture had the power to vanquish the possible truth of her words.

A wistful smile curled Spike’s lips as he took her hand and placed it on her chest. Willow understood when she heard the comforting, accelerated beating of her own heart. It told her she wasn’t dead, and she wasn’t a vampire. What then, had happened?

"Spike, where is Xander?" Her voice shook as her eyes scanned the room for signs of the vampire.

Spike shrugged dismissively, "Gone, I guess."

Willow frowned. "Gone where?" She wanted to ask.

"Tara is dead," Willow stated, as memories of what had happened came back to her. Tears threatened to flood her eyes. "And Giles?"

Spike shrugged again. "The old watcher really cares about you, did you know that? He was the one who noticed you were gone. Told me he would dust me himself if I didn’t help you." Spike chuckled, as if he was amused by the idea, but his expression was serious.

"Can you stand up, Pet? I want you to see something," he said after a pause.

Willow nodded, not sure if she felt strong enough to sit up but realizing that she had been resting her upper body on top of his legs. She slowly sat up and Spike was instantly on his feet, helping her stand. After taking a moment to stabilize herself, Willow took a couple of tentative steps with Spike’s assistance. As she moved around the room, distant and yet familiar voices reached her ears, originating from somewhere above her. That’s when a realization struck her. She was in the basement of The Magic Box!

Gone were the books, chairs and sleeping cot, replaced by boxes of merchandise and shelves filled with jars and ledgers. She glanced up at Spike, not daring to hope.

"Come on, Red," he said, as he took her hand and led her up the stairs. When they reached the top, Willow moved ahead, peeking through the curtain that separated the backroom of the store from the main retail area. Through the narrow partition she saw Anya carrying a box across the room and placing it on a table. Willow watched as the ex-demon enthusiastically dug into the box with a box cutter.

"Xander, be careful with those boxes! I can’t keep telling the distributors that the merchandise got broken during shipping and if you break it, we will not get reimbursed for it. Damaged merchandise could begin to eat into our profits!" She was saying as she worked.

Xander walked toward Anya, vigorously shaking the box he held in his hands. "They are just books, Anya. You can’t break books by shaking them."

Just then, the box slipped out of his hands and landed on the floor with an ominous crash.

"Oops! The books must have been in the other box," Xander offered sheepishly.

A tremor of apprehension ran through Willow as she saw Xander move into her line of vision, but she was immediately reassured by the innocuous expression on the boyish features. Willow momentarily closed her eyes and tried to picture in her mind the years of love and trust they had shared, the strong arms that had a way of casually sliding around her shoulders just when she needed them the most, the wide grin that could brighten even her gloomiest day. She winced when the smile she was visualizing twisted into a cruel grin and her eyes snapped open. Would she ever stop seeing that sneer every time she looked at her beloved Xander?

Another voice drew her attention from across the room and Willow craned her neck to get a better view.

"Where is Willow? Shouldn’t she be here helping with this?"

Willow almost rolled her eyes at the authoritative tone in Buffy’s voice as she watched her friend roughly shoving newly arrived books into a shelf, as if the task was so menial as to be bothersome. She smiled indulgently instead. She was more than ever aware of her best friend’s unavoidable destiny. There was no retirement plans for slayers. Maybe it wouldn’t be on that day, and maybe not at Spike’s hands, but one day, Buffy would most likely meet the same fate as her alternate self had. But at that moment, Buffy looked more alive to Willow than she ever had.

"She left early this morning, said she had something to do but wouldn’t tell me what. She’s been so distracted and secretive lately." Tara’s melodious, sad voice floated to Willow’s ears, tugging at the girl’s heart.

She loved Tara. Willow had risked her own safety and sanity to save her, and it still had not been enough. Now, standing there, watching Tara from across the room, Willow had to wonder what it was she had been trying to save. Was it Tara, or was it the way the other woman made her feel when she looked at her – loved, beautiful and safe? Did it make any difference if somewhere in another dimension, a pile of dust drifted through a dark, deserted tunnel, as long as Willow could still gaze into those large, loving eyes?

"Maybe she’ll stop by later, it’s still early. None of you are committed to be here, although I do appreciate you volunteering to help with the pre-inventory stocking."

Willow’s heart skipped at the sound of Giles’ voice. Her chest constricted as she watched the man walk around the room, rearranging the books as Buffy placed them randomly on the shelves, as if it was of the utmost importance to him where the books were placed. But Willow knew better. She knew that if every one of those books crumbled into ashes, each of their bodies turned to dust, and all of reality was wiped out, Giles would still be there, fighting the good fight with his last breath, only because that is who he was.

"Wait a minute, did you say volunteer? Because I don’t remember volunteering for anything; Anya said I had to do this!" Xander piped in.

"Honey, he was talking about the others. You have to be here to show you’re supportive of me and my career goals," Anya clarified for Xander.

"Nobody told me I was volunteering. I thought I had to do this, and if we have to be here, I think Willow should be here too!" Buffy interjected.

"I was kind of hoping that she would be able to help me with some translations I’ve been working on ..."

Willow watched her friends busily move around the room and listened to their inconsequential chatter as the reality of the scene sank slowly into her stunned mind. After a few moments, she felt more certain than ever that this was where she belonged. This was real, perhaps as real as the other world had been, except that here Buffy and Anya were not dead, Xander wasn’t a vampire and Giles was the same strong, overpowering figure that he had always been. She was pretty certain that Dawn was alright too and probably at school. What she still could not comprehend was how it was possible.

"Spike, is this home?" She asked the vampire standing behind her.

"Yeah, Pet, good ol’ Sunnyhell – slayer territory," he responded as he lit a cigarette, his tone slightly bitter.

Willow turned around to look at him. "How did we get here?" She whispered in spite of her excitement, ensuring that her friends could not hear her.

Spike looked around the room uncomfortably and shrugged. "It would have never worked out."

Willow frowned in confusion, wondering if she had missed part of their conversation. She suspected that he knew the answer but was avoiding the question. Her eyes settled on his chest.

"Spike, where is the talisman?"

"Left behind I suppose, what was left of it after I crushed it with my boot. Bloody thing wouldn’t break!"

Understanding dawned on Willow. Unable to get to her in time and knowing that Xander was about to take her life, Spike had done the only thing he could have done to save her, break the talisman and with it, the spell that bound them to the other dimension.

"Why? Spike, why did you do it?"

"Like I said, Red, it would’ve never worked out ... not without you."

He stared into the cloud of smoke rising from his lips as if he was still pondering his options and still coming up empty handed. Willow fidgeted, her thoughts still struggling to catch up with her circumstances in the new reality.

"What you did was risky. I mean, how did you know that Xander would not be transported along with us to this reality?"

"Ah! Remember that first time you told me to break the amulet, in Tara’s room?"

Willow nodded.

"Well, you were holding Tara’s arm and then reached out to touch me. But, earlier, you had said that the amulet anchored us both to that reality, and that breaking it would send us both back to where we belonged. I figured the reason why you needed to touch my arm was for Tara’s benefit, that in order for someone from the alternate universe to be transported to this dimension they had to be in contact not with you, but with the person holding the amulet – meaning me!" Spike jabbed himself on the chest with his index finger, raising his eyebrow in what Willow perceived as an "aren’t I smart?" gesture.

She narrowed her eyes skeptically. "And you figured all that out in the split second before you made the decision to break the amulet?"

"Well, actually, no. I figured it out while I was sitting in the basement waiting for you to wake up. I didn’t have any idea what was gonna happen when I broke the talisman."

Willow smiled. That sounded a lot more like the Spike she knew, act now and think later. The smile died on her lips as the magnitude of what he had done became clear to her. Spike had nothing to gain from breaking the talisman, and everything to lose. She looked at him, trying to discern the angle. Wasn’t there always an angle with Spike? That was when his previous words suddenly made sense to her, not without you. And then she saw it in his eyes, that look that made her feel beautiful and loved, and, strangely enough, safe. When it had come down to it, he had brought her safely home at his own expense.

"Spike, I just want to say thank you. I owe you, big time," she whispered, her words sounding hallow and insufficient to her own ears.

"Bullocks! You don’t owe me anything. I got more than my one day in the sun, and that was the whole point – remember?"

His attempt at humor was lost on Willow. She could see the sadness in his eyes and knew that he was desperately trying to rationalize his situation, because that was what Spike always did. She felt the need for him to understand that she wasn’t taking his sacrifice for granted, that what he had done meant something to her.

"I don’t think that makes it any easier, Spike. If anything, it has to be worst, having had a glimpse of what you wanted and then having to give it up forever."

"You mean that whole ‘is it better to have had and to have lost, than never having had at all?’" He scoffed. "That’s a bunch of rubbish if you ask me! I say want, have, and when it’s gone, good riddance!"

Willow almost laughed at Spike’s mangled interpretation of Shakespeare. That was another thing he could do, make her laugh. "Uh, Spike, I think that’s to have loved and to have lost ... you know ... Shakespeare?"

"Yeah, that too," he added forlornly.

Willow glanced behind her at the curtain that divided what had been from what will be. She didn’t want to see the sadness in his eyes that betrayed his casual words.

"It looks like we’ve only been gone for a few hours. This is going to be the worst case of jet-lag in history," she commented lightly, then added in a more serious tone, "Spike, what am I gonna tell them?"

"Nothing," was his simple answer.

"I mean about the spell I did and what happened."

Spike stepped up behind her and she felt him loosen the sash from around her waist and wrap it around her neck like a scarf, covering what had to be a nasty looking bite mark.

"Will, look at me," he commanded in what Willow had come to think of as his ‘or else’ tone of voice.

Willow turned to face him.

"It never happened, alright? Not the spell ... not ... any of it. Just forget it, ok? Go to your friends. It was only a few hours of your life, nothing else. I will never mention it, to you or anyone else, I promise. Go to them now."

He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, pointing her in the direction of the retail floor of The Magic Shop and her friends. She almost whimpered when she felt his hands drop from her shoulders after lingering there for only a moment. How could she make him understand that she would never be able to forget any of it? The precarious condition of their existence was more clear to her than ever after witnessing only one scenario of the many horrifying possibilities, but she had also gained a new appreciation for how precious and invaluable hers and her friends idiosyncrasies were, because of their very fragility.

Willow had lived enough and seen enough to know that if time doesn’t heal all wounds, it at least turned them into faint scars, distorted recollections that all started with the phrase "do you remember the time when ...?"

But while memories faded and wounds healed, feelings could not be denied. The dark energy that had first revealed her feelings toward Spike was now gone from her body; she could feel it’s absence like an amputated limb, violently severed in one final burst of darkness. So, why then, did she feel an overwhelming sense of loss at the thought that Spike would never kiss her again? Why did panic threaten to overcome her every-time she thought about the words, "it never happened."

Maybe it was because it had happened, and she didn’t want to forget. She didn’t want to pretend that what had happened between them was the side-effect of some mystical energy or the last resort in a desperate situation. Away from the magic and from the strange dimension she had created, she could now allow herself to admit that what she had felt for Spike had been as real as anything else she had ever felt. Tara was her girlfriend and she would not abandon or betray her, but she needed Spike to know that she didn’t want to forget what had happened between them ... that she didn’t want to forget him.

Willow knew it was a now or never situation. She would never have the courage to speak the words aloud to him again. Gathering her strength, she blurted out the words, "Spike, I love you!", as she whirled around to face whatever his response might be. Silence and the empty room were the only witnesses to her bravado. She rushed to the stairs and down to the storage room in the basement, only to find it equally deserted. He was gone, through the underground tunnels and back to his existence away from the light. She concluded that maybe he was right, that maybe there was wisdom in letting sleeping dogs lie. She would sneak out the back, go home and later claim a sudden bout of the stomach flu. That excuse couldn’t possibly be harder to believe than the truth.

The words of one of Tara’s and hers favorite songs haunted Willow as she climbed the stairs and stepped out the back into the bright light of day. ... and my bitter pill to swallow, is the silence that I keep.

~The End~

back