***

The huge downstairs living area was empty.  The usual furnishings had been pushed aside and carefully contained in one tiny unimportant corner while music pounded through the empty space. It was so loud that the windows rattled with every blasting beat, threatening to shatter under the constant assault, and the floor moved and shimmered...or rather the coating of slick soap filled water did.  It jiggled and shook in a peculiar imitation of dance, bouncing and bobbing over the hard smooth surface of stone it covered.  However, it wasn't merely the vibrations of the music causing the soap scum to dance over the polished floor.

It was Spike.

Singing loudly and not always in tune, clad only in jeans and socks he was skimming across the slippery surface on his knees.  Repeatedly throwing himself down in the scummy water and sliding from one side of the room to the other.  Twirling about as he slid across the floor, his hands held high for balance, clapping along to the beat while he sang out.  As the music continued to accompany his floor surfing he'd change the lyrics so that various sweet songs became little more than perversions of a hideous nature.  Of course it wasn't enough for the blond to merely skim across the floor on his knees, tempting fate he would change position, getting to his feet and continuing to glide on the slick stone surface.  It didn't take much for him to overbalance and end up sprawled face down in the water, still skimming through the soap scum until he crashed into a wall.  When he did fall, too often for his own liking, he'd merely get up, check he wasn't broken and throw himself back down on the floor.

This was Spike's secret.  Something he did every Friday, the only full day of college that Willow had, a period of eight hours where Spike knew he could do anything without having to explain himself or his actions to the redhead.  However, if he were to be caught out he had an excuse ready and fully believable ~ he was cleaning.  Only an insanely bored vampire would find an enjoyable way of cleaning the vast downstairs living area.

In fact, the discovery of this secret and somewhat childish pleasure had been a serendipitous event.  The floor, when they'd first moved into the mansion, had been covered in a film of grime and, perhaps more disgusting for Spike, the faint scorched outline of his sire's return.  So he had gathered every foamy cleansing product he could find in the mansion and set about scrubbing the floor.  Once the floor was scrubbed clean of the filth the suds that covered it made it more or less impossible for Spike to move about.  He'd quickly lost his footing, falling on the slippery surface, landing hard on his ass and skidding slightly.  It was that smooth and easily made motion that made him cock an eyebrow and cautiously get to his knees to scoot across the slippery surface to where he wanted to go.  Of course the idea of having a huge floor space as an inside slippery slide appealed and within moments he'd been sliding his way across the floor.  Taking huge run ups and dropping down to skim across the surface to the other side of the room.  Spins and turns were added and Spike had a new found secret pleasure.

A pleasure he was now enjoying.

"You're an ordinary girl and that's the way I like it.  On the train in the corner with a mind-numbing headache. Had to let you know that you're beautiful and you me go.  Even if you're taken, there's no moves I'm makin'.  My legs are achin', my eyes are sore," Spike screamed, clapping away with the music, his voice a deep contrast to the female vocal on the CD but definitely complimentary to the heavy electric guitar sounds that were screaming loudly through the speakers.  Without warning, halfway through a spin on his knees, the music cut out but Spike kept singing.  "I haven't washed my jeans in three months or more."

"Really?  I always wondered about that," Willow stood in front of the piled up furniture, remote in hand, trying not to laugh as Spike slid to a halt near her feet.  "Although since you've been doing whatever you call this," she couldn't help the small snort of laughter that escaped her as she gestured to the floor.  "For the last five minutes, I bet they're pretty clean."

Spike fixed his eyes on the redhead and slowly got to his feet.  In a purely predatory action he moved in to tower over her, his muscles tensing and bunching up as he let out a soft warning growl.

"You do realise I have to kill you now."

"Ah ha," Willow tilted her head slightly, baring her neck to him teasingly and leant in close to whisper in his ear. "How, exactly, are you going to do that?"

"I could shag you to death. Or," he grabbed her about the back and knees, picking her up and spinning them around.  Smirking as he nearly lost his footing, he threw her up slightly, testing her weight. "I could just..."

He dropped his arms down lower, effectively releasing her for a brief moment.  The threat of being dropped into the murky scum was real enough for Willow to squeal and grab at his neck, even as he gathered her closer to him with no intentions of dropping her.

"Don't you dare, Spike," Willow hissed, hitting him hard as his hold tightened on her.

"What's it worth to you?"

"I'm serious I have to go back to college this afternoon and I don't have any other clean clothes," Willow instantly regretted those words as a spark of purely lascivious intent lit up the blue eyes.

"I am being serious, love," he smirked and dropped her slightly lower, eliciting a whimper from her.  "So, what's it worth?"

"Anything, I'll do anything, just please don't drop me."

"Hmmm, anything," he thought for a moment and then smirked.  There was one thing he'd been trying to convince her to do for a full week.  "The impotence curse on Xander."

Willow rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.  "No."

Spike shrugged and skidded out across the floor, balancing precariously on his feet and loosening his hold.  He was certain she'd give in, in fact had things gone better last night this threatening move wouldn't have to be made.

Last night he had been close, so painfully close to getting what he wanted.  Willow had been stretched out on their bed, reading the curse and rambling that it would really only be a joke, nothing permanent, an inconvenience for 12 hours and that was it.  A joke, nothing malicious or vengeful about it, no Willow wasn't that sort of girl.  Of course she wouldn't have considered doing the curse at all had Spike not spent the past week preying on her insecurities.  For a solid week he had been subtly reminding her of every silly insignificant comment Xander had ever made about her, the fact that Xander seemed permanently attached to Anya, bringing her along whether she was invited or not, and that Anya had become Xander's confidant usurping Willow's position in his life.  After a week of that she had seriously been contemplating cursing the boy...as a joke.

Then Spike had totally fucked up.

Hot chocolate was one of Willow's favourite drinks and he had thought that it would guarantee the casting of the curse.  So he'd happily set about making her some with little marshmallows and chocolate shavings on top.  Setting the mugs down on the bedside table he'd thrown himself into the task of rediscovering Willow's back with his mouth as she continued to study the curse.  The downfall had been when she'd grabbed a mug and smiled at the sight of the marshmallows and chocolate shavings only to discover, after taking a huge gulp, that Spike also enjoyed marshmallows and chocolate shavings with his warm blood.  It wasn't a pretty sight as she spat out the mouthful of warm blood, totally appalled and more than slightly nauseous, and they'd fought.  Of course making up took precedence and the curse was cast aside and temporarily forgotten.

But now there was this opportunity, she'd been so close to doing it last night that Spike was more than certain she just needed a tiny little push.  Or rather the threat of being dropped in the sudsy water they were currently slowly skimming across.  And he was right.

"Alright, alright, I'll do it!" she screamed, burying her face in his neck.  Spike chuckled to himself.

"Are you sure, witch?  You're not just saying it to be saved from a dunking?" he asked, slowly twirling them about in the soapsuds, as he glanced down at Willow's pale face.

"I'll do it before I go back to college," she promised and sealed it with a quick kiss, nearly making him overbalance.  "Now will you let me down?"

"Nope. What are you doing here anyway?  Thought you had a full day?" Spike asked carefully making his way towards the stairs.

"Morning lectures were cancelled. Apparently there's a flu epidemic, well at least amongst the academic staff," Willow stated loosening her hold to stroke his chest, marvelling at the lean muscles as they flexed with every slow deliberate move he made.

"Fun," he waggled his eyebrows. "Anyone died yet?"

"People rarely die from the flu these days," she smiled at Spike's disappointed sigh.

"Modern medicine's taken the fun out of everything.  Still can't be too careful," he smirked down at her. "Straight to bed for you Miss."

"What about the curse?"

"The curse," stated Spike, finally reaching part of the floor that wasn't covered in slimy water so he could start striding purposely towards the stairs. "Was in exchange for not dropping you...I'm still planning on shagging you to death."

"If you shag me to death," Willow giggled at the thought.  "Then I won't be able to do the curse."

"Smartass," Spike stated, tossing her slightly as he stepped up onto the first step. "When do you have to be back at college?"

"In about four hours," Willow all but whispered against his lips.

"How long will it take for the curse?"

"Not long, maybe ten minutes at the most."

Spike shrugged as he reached the top of the stairs.  "You'll just have to be a bit late for your classes then and incredibly well shagged at that..."
 

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