Title: The Games We Play - The Roof Of A Desoto, Conversation and The Morning After
Author: Anastasia (Charlie1@acay.com.au)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own none, just borrowing them for my own twisted pleasure and public humiliation.
Feedback: If you want me to continue this it is kind of mandatory - if I don't get nagged I just don't write. So please nag...in a nice, ego boosting way. Hey I have a very fragile ego - well that's what I tell everyone.
Notes: Okay this is the second story in a series I am doing called "The Games We Play". Season Four is implied and shock horror I have bought Oz back (just for a little while). I have also bought back the Desoto. This is a page of smut and then some angst, some hidden humour and just silly writing in general. Another piece of silly fiction written in the throngs of insomnia - so please forgive the incoherency of the piece.

Ta da!!! Special Note this is to everyone who made my toes tingle - you know who you are!! And for Saber and her "rah, rah, keep going"

AND HUGE MENTION TO OUR BELOVED CARRIE WHO IS BEING SO GENEROUS IN GIVING US MORE OF TAKE YOUR TIME!! LOVE IT!!!

***
< Oh god, what have I done? > thought Willow. Her legs were still wrapped awkwardly around Spikes jean clad thighs, her hands were buried beneath his leather duster digging into his silk covered back and her naked ass was rocking against the cold metal roof of the Desoto. She could feel his arm cradling her back, his fingers brushing her side while his teeth were teasingly nipping at her neck as he continued to rock them in a mimic of their previously hectic movents. Actually desperate and horny movements would be a more suitable description.

Now here she was, still entwined about Spike, on the roof of the Desoto. His free hand ran across the silk of her shirt and made quick work of untying the knot to push the fabric back, exposing her breasts. She moved beneath him, one of her thighs cramping. < Oh wow he’s still in me. He’s bigger than Oz… Oz… what have I done? > She stretched out her leg, running it down the length of his, the subtle movement eliciting another groan against her neck while other parts of him began to respond as well. A shiver ran through her as her muscles contracted around his swelling shaft. < This is wrong… > Gasping she felt his hand tickling her breast, an index finger brushing against the soft swell of flesh while his thumb caressed her achingly hard nipple. < Oh, that’s nice. > She arched her back, pushing against his hand, trying to gain more pressure as his lips caressed her collarbone before dragging a path down to her free nipple. His tongue flicked the nipple and she bucked against his mouth, moaning. <Oh my, how did he get so good at that? Okay, I don’t give a damn I’m going to do it again… I can feel guilty afterwards. > That was her last coherent thought as her hands moved, one grabbed his ass while the other went to his shoulder.

His mouth continued its assault on her breast. She tasted sweet and salty. He could feel her moving beneath him, rocking her hips - she wanted more and she wanted it now. Spike pulled his mouth away from her breast and sought her mouth, capturing her lips. She opened her mouth, her tongue darting out to play with his, inviting him into her soft warm mouth. His arms moved, pulling away from her to rest on the roof and he began to lift up off her. Her eyes flew open in fear as she felt him pull out of her, ripping her mouth away from his she cried out in disappointment.

"No, Spike please," she blushed at her own words - damn it she had decided she was going for another round, he was up for it and now he was pulling out.

"Relax, Willow," he kissed her mouth once more before moving down her body, his eyes holding hers as she watched him. He grinned wickedly before his face dipped between her legs.

"Fuck," she hissed as she felt his cool tongue brush against her clit. She closed her eyes, rolled her head back on the roof and concentrated on what he was doing. His hands were stroking her thighs in time with the strokes of his tongue and she bought her feet up to rest on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to join his mouth and tongue and he slowly slid his thumb into her tight wet passage causing her to thrust against his mouth while he rhythmically moved his thumb. She whimpered in protest as she felt him pull it out only to moan as two fingers slid into her. Blindly she stared up at the dull night sky. Listening she could hear sounds, breathing, soft moans, the soft wet sounds of Spike's mouth and fingers on her. One of her hands had found it's way down to caress his hair, the fingers lightly combing his bleached locks in time with the motion of his mouth. She moaned loudly as she felt his thumb thrust into her puckered anus, her fingers entwining in his short hair as she bit into her bottom lip and arched her back off the roof. He was driving her wild by alternately thrusting his fingers and then his thumb deep into her - his mouth steadily sucking against her clit, the tongue teasingly flicking at it. Clutching his head in her hands she came, her muscles spasmed, making it hard for him to continue the movement, slowly bringing her back down. Her fingers gently stroked his hair as she lazily moved against him. "Spike."

The next thing she knew he had pulled her up so she stood and spun her around and pushed her back down so she was once more lying face down on the roof. She was about to say something when she felt the tip of his cock slide slowly inside her. Clenching her fists near her head she wondered why he was going so slowly it was torturous. Placing her hands flat on the roof she levered herself back onto him, moaning as he slid deeper. With a thud one of his hands landed beside hers on the roof, his other grabbing her waist, lifting her up and stilling their movements.

"Willow," it almost sounded like a prayer. He let his tongue trace her backbone through the silk of her shirt before biting the back of her neck. He moved his hand from her waist back to her ass and kneaded it as he slowly pulled back and started to thrust into the writhing redhead. She moved with him, taking her weight on her hands, thrusting back against him, delighting in the sensation of his cock sliding in and out. He pulled his other hand back to her hip, giving her ass a final squeeze he grabbed her hips and began to thrust hard and deep into, grunting and hissing at the tightness of her. He felt her shudder beneath him, collapsing onto the roof as she came again with a cry of his name. Releasing her hips he clutched at one of her hands while his arm encircled her waist, pulling her hard against him. With a final deep thrust he came, collapsing on top of her burying his face in the crook of her neck. Again he practically whispered her name as he lay on top of her listening to her ragged breathing and pounding heart beat. "Willow."

He kissed the back of her neck and traced a line to her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth before placing a soft kiss on her temple. His gaze fell on their hands, his was covering hers but their fingers were locked together - to him it just looked right. Willow thought the same thing. She moaned lightly as he released her hand, stood up and pulled out of her. She closed her eyes for a moment listening to the sound of her own breathing only to feel his hands massaging her ass before running down the length of her legs and pulling the leather pants up from around her ankles. She stood up and leant back against him as his nimble fingers did up the button fly, his lips brushing against her neck. Silently she worked on doing up the buttons of her shirt and moved away from him to sit on the side of the bonnet once her trousers were done up.

Spike moved and sat beside her, watching as she fixed the last of the buttons on the shirt then silently twisted her fingers in the silk.

"You know this is just bad...the whole thing is bad," she finally said.

"Well, I thought it was..." Spike began. He couldn't understand what she was saying; they'd both enjoyed themselves.

"Oh no not that. That was good, in fact that was fantastic, it was what you expect, fireworks type of thing."

"Then what's bad?" Spike curiously asked.

"Me," she spoke quietly, looking straight ahead.

"You're not love," Spike couldn't help but chuckle, there was nothing, especially now, that he could ever fault Willow on.

"Yes I am. Look at me! I just had..." she gestured wildly toward the roof of the Desoto with her hands, frowning. Spike stopped the smirk he could feel forming at her inability to say 'sex' and watched her. "With you, which could be considered bad. I mean...Oz, Oz and me, we're together. So doing that with you is just bad." She nodded her head in total agreement with herself and tore her eyes away from Spike's cool blue gaze before starting to do the only thing possible. Pacing and venting - her hands gesturing wildly. "But you know, it isn't my fault. I didn't ask to come to LA, you were the one that spilt blood on me and dragged me to that stupid club. I would never have even considered coming here and certainly not having that guy do what he did which made me all...well it doesn't matter what it made me feel because it was bad!"

She stopped and practically spat the word 'bad' in his face, hers marred by a worried frown.

"Willow," he began only to have her return to her pacing, ignoring him completely. He shook his head in amazement, at this point in time he could only think of finding some place with a huge bed and dragging her with him for a sleep before getting to know her a lot better in the carnal sense, and she was pacing. He didn't know where she found the energy.

"And if I didn't feel that way I would never have done what I did with you..." again she stopped in front of him, glancing up at the roof of the car before returning to his face. "Twice no less!" A note of hysteria had crept into her voice. Pausing in her rant she took in his face, her frown melting into a lustful sappy look. "And if you didn't do that thing with your tongue and...and...and your fingers..." he gave half a smile as her breathing quickened and her hands reached out towards him. "And your mouth and..." she stopped pulled her hands back and shook her head. "I'm just getting completely off topic here."

"Well," Spike began to say, thinking of suggesting his previous idea of finding a bed.

"You know it's all Oz's fault," she said, surprising Spike. "I'd gotten over him - well not really you never forget your first love - but I had accepted what happened. I even kind of understood. Not that I'm saying it was right or anything but I was beginning to move on, put him behind me and then he just shows up. Expects us to pick up a few days before he did that...that...bitch - like it never happened. Well it did happen and then he just leaves. Nothing, no notes except wanting his stuff, no phone calls - even Buffy gets calls from Angel - but no, I get nothing! Then one day he just shows up and says 'Hey babe, sorry, love you' and expects that to make it all better."

She stopped in front of him again with a look of expectation. < Say something you bloody git.> he thought. "Well..."

"But it doesn't." she stated angrily, resuming her pacing. "Then everyone's 'Oh Will we're so happy for you - you two belong together'. Is that because we cheat on each other? Kind of like tic for tac? That's wrong, that's bad. See - it all comes back to being bad. I mean, what does he expect? He comes back and just wants everything to be all hunky dory. He acts like nothing happened, like he never left or even had 'relations' with that vapid whore. You know every time we...well, when we...erm...have..."

She looked at him pleadingly. Raising an eyebrow he put forward the word she couldn't bring herself to say. "Sex"

"Yes, I can't help but think of them together. It use to be different, use to be good. Now its just..." she struggled for a moment, trying to think of a word to describe the emptiness of her relationship with Oz.

"Unsatisfying," Spike offered. She had stopped pacing and stood in front of him, her head low, examining her hands like it was the first time she had really seen them.

"Why is that?" she asked in a low voice, still blindly staring at her hands.

"Well..." Spike began, not having the faintest idea what to say.

"I mean nothings different really. He says he loves me...actually he says he loves me more than he ever did before. But it's different, you know...it's empty." Her voice was low and hoarse. As she bought her head up Spike could see the pain and turmoil in her eyes, something she had hidden so well for the past month. "He doesn't mean it, it's just something he says to make him feel better. Lets him justify everything he's done..."

"Come here," Spike pulled her into his arms, his hand cradling the back of her head. Breathing in the smell of her hair he felt her arms wrap around his waist under the duster.

"He's going to leave again, isn't he?" she spoke softly, her voice full of anguish, like she was resigned to the idea. He considered the question carefully. Oz would leave, he was sure of that, but what do you tell a young girl who had already been hurt and abandoned? He knew what the slayer and her friends would do - they'd disagree and say that he would never think of leaving her, that he loved her dearly and that he would stay with her. Lies to offer comfort and lull her into a false sense of security.

"Yeah." He stated calmly.

"I wish he'd never come back," she said quietly into the crook of his neck. "It would have been easier if he hadn't."

For some reason, although they were packed with misery and pain, those words sounded like music to Spike's ears. She didn't want the wolf, she was unhappy with him and she was seeking comfort. Spike grinned, he loved being her comfort, he would comfort her until she forgot who made her so miserable, until she could think of no one but him, until she died. They stayed locked in each other's arms for ages.

"Come on pet, we'd better get back so I can have my ass staked," he stated quietly.

"What?"

"I'm thinking Slayer won't be taking kindly to our little..."

"Don't be stupid," Willow pulled away from his embrace. "It never happened."

"What?" He couldn't believe it. Anger welled up in him, how dare she just try and brush him aside - what for? The bloody idiot wolf who was going to fuck off and leave her anyway.

"Think about it Spike. What would happen if everyone found out? How long do you think you'd last? Buffy would kill you and Oz...well. Just think about it." She knew it would be best, she didn't want him staked - which she knew Buffy would do if she ever found out. Anyway, what possibility did they have of making it work? What was she thinking - she was in a relationship with Oz and he loved her...didn't he? "It's best that we just forget about it. Okay? Please Spike."

"Fine. Whatever you want pet." Spike slid off the bonnet and walked over to the drivers' door to get in. Lighting up a cigarette he looked at her over the bonnet of the car. She was smart and she was right, it would cause a lot of trouble for both of them - hell he would probably never see another night if the slayer found out. He hated it and slammed the door shut to sit sulking behind the wheel. Had things been different he'd just drag her off, mark her and never give her a moment to even think about someone else...what the hell was he thinking? If things were different he wouldn't have had her. Actually yes he would - he would have sired her that night in the dorm room and never let her out of his sight... < Shit. >

Willow stood for a moment, looking at his shadowy form through the window. < What have I done? > Sighing in resignation she got into the passenger seat, it wouldn't work, no matter what happened, it wouldn't work. For starters he was a vampire, okay sure she was dating a werewolf and the transition from werewolf to vampire wasn't that big a step - but no, it wouldn't work. Look at Angel and Buffy, of course that was different, Angel had a soul and Buffy was the slayer. Okay so that was totally different to her and Spike but it still wouldn't work...would it?

No, what they had done was wrong. It could never happen again. Definitely not. No matter what. It was one of those weird things that happen - you know two people thrown together, one extremely horny the other unsatisfied...it was bound to happen. It had and that was it - no more. No matter how good it was, or how right it felt, or how talented he was...especially with his tongue...

"Shit," muttered Willow.

***

Spike watched her in the mirror. It would have been better if he watched her less and concentrated more on his driving but at 2am in the morning the roads were pretty empty - except for a few semi-trailers. They had just reached the edge of LA when he heard her swear softly, he'd seen the turmoil she had been working through. She would never be any good at lying her face was too expressive. Now she was desperately fighting sleep, every few moments her eyes would flutter shut until her head fell forward then she'd wake up with a start. Spike let out a frustrated sigh.

"Come here love," he stretched his arm across the back of the seats, his fingers curling around the far side of her neck a gentle pressure pulling her toward him. She tensed under his touch, unsure of what to do. "I won't bite - you bloody well know that."

Too tired to care anymore Willow scooted over, laying her head against his shoulder. "Don't go to sleep."

"What?" Spike wasn't sure if he heard her right.

"Don't go to sleep and crash the car. I don't want to die just yet," Willow murmured against his shoulder, snuggling as his arm wrapped around her.

"Don't worry, pet. I want you alive for a while yet," he said, stroking her hair until he was sure she was asleep. He kept driving until he was about half an hour out of Sunnydale and pulled the car off to the shoulder of the road. Shifting slightly he let her head fall from his shoulder to his lap. Holding his proverbial breath she stirred and wrapped an arm around his leg before throwing her other arm across his lap. "Maybe that wasn't such a great idea."

He waited, making sure she was still asleep, before lighting a cigarette and leaning back in the seat to think. His hand strayed down to stroke her hair. What the hell had he done? Screwed the little witch, taken her with no regard at all, something she didn't deserve. He wanted to treat her like the goddess she was. He wanted her, completely and utterly - in a way that the wolf couldn't and that no one would understand. But no, she was going back to the wolf because it was expected. Although she had voiced her thoughts, Spike really didn't think she'd realised what she was saying - it was empty, unsatisfying, nothing more than a ridiculous façade of a relationship. She was miserable and all he wanted to do was make her happy, which he couldn't do in Sunnydale because the slayer would stake his ass. Sunnydale, his own personal hell in which Willow was his only grace. For the briefest of moments he considered turning the Desoto around and pissing off where no one could find them. Just a fleeting thought that couldn't really be entertained. Nope, he was stuck in Sunnyhell as long as he was defanged.

Pouting he considered his options for a moment, idly wondering if he could kill the wolf during his cycle. He didn't like the idea of trying it out - he'd rather be staked by the slayer than end up being dinner for a werewolf. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't. Willow was unhappy and he could make her forget that, it was all he cared about at the moment. If that meant keeping quiet about LA, fine. But there was no way in hell he was going to forget about it, or let her forget about it. He was sure of one thing - she was his.

Flicking the cigarette butt out the window he drove off, his hand still on the sleeping girls head.

***

"Where have you been?" hissed Giles as he opened the door. Spike frowned as he carried the still sleeping Willow passed the watcher and headed for the stairs. "Angel rang hours ago, he's been worried sick about you two."

"I doubt that mate," Spike turned at the bottom of the stairs. "Call the great poof and put him out of his misery. Actually stake him - that'd work better."

"What happened? Angel was frantic, something about finding Willow's clothes covered in blood," Giles whispered letting his eyes roam over Willow's sleeping form for any injuries.

"If the bloody git had used his head he'd know it was pigs blood!" Spike hissed at the watcher. "Now if you don't mind..."

"Where are you going?" Giles asked

"Putting sleeping beauty here to bed."

"What my bed? Where am I going to sleep?"

"You can have the couch...unless you want the bath," Spike said as he walked up the stairs. "Ring peaches."

Spike made his way upstairs, he could clearly hear Giles on the phone, he'd forgotten all about the damn clothes. Laying Willow down on the bed he removed her shoes and the leather pants, leaving her in the silk shirt. He covered her with the quilt and sat on the edge of the bed watching her sleep. He left her some ten minutes later when he heard Giles hang up.

"I take it you do have the laptop?" asked Giles as Spike moved back down the stairs.

"Yeah, it's in the trunk," Spike tossed him the keys. "So you been waiting long?"

"Since Angel rang, a little past 11," Giles glanced at his watch. "It's now 4.30, I'm sure you can do the math, as the children are so fond of saying."

"Mmm..." Spike moved into the kitchen and went about making his dinner.

"So what did you do from 11 until now?" Giles asked, sounding very much like a scolding parent.

"Oh, the usual. Dressed Willow in leather, took her to an S&M club, got her all horny then shagged her senseless on top of the Desoto," Spike said and took a sip of his blood.

"Really Spike, your flippant attitude can be most annoying at times." Said Giles as he headed for the door to retrieve the computer.

"Yeah, night mate." Spike turned and headed to the bathroom. He waited until Giles came back in and fell asleep on the couch before moving silently through the apartment to Willow, clad only in his jeans. Lifting the quilt he crawled in next to her, sighing as she stirred and wrapped her arms about him. He kissed her forehead lightly. "Night Willow."

"Night Spike," she mumbled as she threw a leg over his.

***

Voices. That's what Willow could hear, somewhere in the distance, through the fog of sleep. Voices. Distinctive voices. She sighed and rubbed her cheek against the cool muscular chest she was sleeping on.

"She's sleeping at the moment," she heard Giles voice.

"Cool, so can we listen to your records while I wait?" Oz asked.

Willow's eyes flew open. Oz. She pushed herself up off Spike's naked chest. Her eyes widened even more. She was in bed with a naked Spike.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed.

"Morning pet," Spike smirked.
 

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