Summary: Angst, sex and dancing...my twisted idea of romance.
Spoiler: This story is set late in Season Three of BtVS. For my own
reasons Faith did not remain in Sunnydale nor is the Mayor any sort of
threat.
Yes, yes, I know, destroy the whole season. Set a few months
after "Lovers Walk".
A/N: A little warning, this story is nothing but romantic drivel ~ you know, fluff and drivel.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 2~
“Okay, Giles has found a new hiding place for his ‘don’t let Willow see these’ books…” Willow murmured to herself as she ran her fingers over the various volumes in Giles’ office. She was there by herself, werewolf sitting Oz on the first night of his cycle, and had sought out the books Giles kept locked away. Pulling out one of the heavy leather bound books she read over the label “Hmm, Watcher diaries. Not the books I want, but they’ll do for now.”
Picking out a couple of the tomes, she flicked through them, trying to decide which ones to take back to the main area of the library with her so she had something to read for the rest of the night. It had been five days since her moonlit dance with Spike in her backyard and she hadn’t seen him since, but she had heard of him, they all had. The past few days and nights had been spent hours researching, combing through various prophecies and contacting their sources to see if there was anything happening in the demon world that would explain his presence in Sunnydale, but it had ceded no information at all. Of course that didn’t offer the Scoobies any comfort at all, especially Angel. His fruitless encounter with Spike some four nights back had made him uneasy and the lack of information forthcoming unsettled him even more, so much so that he hardly let Buffy out of his sight and, unbeknown to the Slayer, he would watch over her house while she slept until the promise of dawn drew him away. But it wasn’t just the Slayer that Angel watched over, he would lurk, eavesdropping on conversation to ensure that he knew exactly where each of the Gang would be and should there be the chance that they’d be walking home alone at night, he would follow them.
“Boring, boring…” Willow muttered, flicking through the journal she held before closing it and abandoning it for the next one. “This looks interesting…eww yuck, that’s disgusting!”
So it came to be that tonight, the night before the full moon and five nights after Spike had cornered her in the Bronze, Willow was alone in the library with Oz in his werewolf form. Buffy and Angel were patrolling together, while Giles had been convinced to go home and get some sleep by Willow, after four seemingly endless days of solid research he was exhausted and hadn’t really put up too much of an argument. And Xander being Xander, was sprawled across his own bed, surrounded by junk food and sound asleep while the television blared.
“I don’t think I really want to read about disembowelment, thank you very much…” Willow’s disgust over the contents of the diaries was interrupted as Oz growled in the book cage. "Oz," she sung out to the werewolf. She had discovered that little things often set him off and he was soothed when she used a melodic singsong voice. "It’s okay, there’s nothing there."
Only this time, it didn’t work. There was a sudden eruption of snarling and the metal caging rattled as the wolf threw himself against it, and Willow dropped the diary. Without hesitating, she rushed out of the office, skidding to a halt as the book cage came into view. Or rather Spike came into view, standing side on in front of the raging werewolf, the tranquilizer gun in his hand. Willow watched in horror as he smirked and raised the gun toward Oz.
"NO!!" the cry echoed about the deserted library and merged with the sound of the rifle being fired. As the wolf yelped and landed heavily on the floor, Willow rushed the vampire and tried in vain to wrestle the gun from his grasp. She was no match for him and the gun was used as leverage for him to push her back, sending her crashing to the floor.
"Now that isn’t a nice way to treat your guest, pet," Spike swaggered over to her fallen form, gun still in hand, and squatted to look her in the eye. "Play nice and the puppy won’t get hurt. If you don’t play…well let’s see,” he cranked open the gun and counted up the remaining shots, quickly snapping it shut and smirking at her. “Three darts left – enough to put the wolf down if needed." The smirk fell away as he stood up and wandered back to the cage. "You could have his pelt as a rug for your bedroom – you’d be able to walk all over him."
Spike kicked the cage, looking for any response from the drugged werewolf. Behind him, Willow remained on the floor, frantically glancing about the spotless library for a crucifix, holy water or even a stake, anything that could help protect herself and Oz from Spike. There was nothing, everything was packed neatly away so as not to attract attention – for once in her life Willow wished Giles was a slob. Tears welled up in her eyes and a lump burnt its way into her throat as she resigned herself to the fact that if she wanted Oz to live she would have to do whatever Spike wanted.
"What do you want me to do?" Willow quietly asked, staying as still as possible and taking in every detail of the vampire before her. He turned slowly from the cage, his duster creaking softly at the movement, his face expressionless.
"What makes you think I want anything from you?" Spike growled at her cowering form.
"Well, you threaten Oz, stated it depended on me and since there is no one else here I assumed…" Willow couldn’t meet the cold glare anymore and she dropped her gaze down, looking past the blond to the sedated werewolf and willed herself not to cry. Willow couldn’t see any escape from the vampire, even if she did manage to run, it still left Oz defenseless and unconscious in the cage ~ Spike would kill him in a heartbeat. The thought of something happening to Oz tore at her and she could feel the panic make her chest constrict in agony. There was only one thing that Willow could do that would secure Oz’s safety. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Willow pushed her hair back off her face and cautiously eased herself up off the floor, her eyes fixed on the blond vampire with her resolve face firmly in place. "I’ll do whatever you want…as long as you don’t kill Oz."
“Is he worth it?” Spike asked, his voice little more than a snarl. He didn’t even bother to look back at the wolf as he slung the gun casually over one shoulder and strolled towards the girl, she was visibly shaking, her skin pale and her eyes as wide as saucers. “Look at you… trembling, terrified…and yet willing to do whatever I want so your precious pup doesn’t get hurt,” he stopped in front of her, so close that Willow could feel the difference of temperatures in their bodies, and those cold blue eyes fixed on hers, almost like he was trying to bore into her very being. Snorting in contempt, he circled her slowly. “Isn’t that just the perfect show of devotion…”
From the corner of her eye Willow caught a glimpse of the nozzle of the rifle before the second shot was fired and she screamed, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Beside her, Spike lowered the gun and sniffed.
“Wouldn’t it be a pity,” Spike stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the cage. “If he’s not worth it? Still, you’re willing…” he took another step forward so that he was practically on top of her and all she could do was stand there, fighting back the tears. “Play nice and I’ll let the dog live."
Spike slung the gun casually over one shoulder, grabbed Willow’s wrist, jerking her hand away from her mouth, and led her towards the library’s stereo system. With his attention turned to the stereo system, Willow risked a quick glance over her shoulder at the cage. She knew that the tranquilizer darts were a low dosage, enough to knock Oz out should they need to, but she wasn’t certain how many it would take before there was serious damage done and she certainly didn’t want to find out. Once more she frantically glanced about the library, desperately searching for something that could use against the vampire. There was nothing except for the chairs by the table and she doubted that she could move fast enough or hit him hard enough with one for them to be of assistance. Behind her the stereo blared into life and she jumped.
"We have the music," Spike said, turning up the volume and leading Willow back toward the large table. Throwing the tranquilizer gun down onto the table, he spun around to face her. "We have the room and we have two players - both with shoes on – and so we dance."
"You want to dance? With me? Here?" Willow could feel her voice slowly getting higher in pitch with each question. She was also painfully aware that her mouth was hanging open and her brow was nothing more than a mass of worried wrinkles, but all she could do was stare totally dumbfounded at the blond vampire.
"You know, this repeating and rephrasing of everything I say is starting to get boring. And stop bloody frowning, it looks ridiculous," Spike spat, and Willow snapped her mouth shut. "Good. Now, where shall we begin?" A slow, three-beat song that started to play on the radio answered the question and he closed his eyes briefly. "Perfect, back to basics. A waltz."
Before Willow could even register what Spike had said she felt his hands on her. His cool fingers wrapped about her hand while his other arm encircled her waist, pulling her into him and the pressure of his hand in the small of her back guided her. Within the space of a few breaths she found herself floating again, twirling about the room and a shiver of pure pleasure ran through her, a smile forming on her lips as she forgot who she was with.
"I’m glad to see you remember your lessons, pet," Spike said and for the first time since they’d began dancing, Willow looked up into his face. He was smiling, although it held no comfort, and his eyes held nothing of the smile. Yet those eyes and his face were mesmerizing.
"I never forget anything," Willow stated simply, still holding his gaze.
"Nothing?" he asked quietly, searching her face. “Not even painful memories?”
"No, they have their value…no matter how trivial or painful, everything has some importance, adds to our knowledge…” Willow let the sentence die off. She was starting to sound like her mother and she wasn’t particularly sure of its relevance to his question or if he even cared to listen to her chatter.
"Such wisdom for one so very young," Spike sneered, still twirling them about the floor. "And this wisdom, can I presume it is based on experience?"
There was that arrogance again that had annoyed her so much when he’d cornered her in the Bronze. Bristling, Willow narrowed her eyes slightly. “Some.”
"What experience have you had?” he smirked down at her. “Really?"
"I…I’ve done lots of things…with Buffy…and," she felt flustered, unsure of what he meant exactly.
"Ah yes, the great and wonderful Buffy,” he drawled sarcastically and tilted his head to watch her. “Tell me Willow, before Buffy came to Sunnydale, what were you like?"
Willow searched his face for some meaning, but found none and she blushed. "I don’t understand…"
"I bet your mother did your shopping. Picked out your clothes, shoes, toys, and books. Decided who you played with, what you did – planned everything for you and you just went along with that plan, never knowing any different but what she told you,” Spike smirked and licked his lips. “Then along comes Buffy, a wonderful new friend. Someone else to pick out your clothes, tell you what to do with your hair, what music to listen to, how to act, where you should go. Have you ever experienced anything for yourself? Done anything you wanted to?"
Spike stopped the dance, released his hold on her and walked over to the table, leaning back against it as he patted down his pockets, searching for his cigarettes. Willow couldn’t move, she felt like he’d slapped her across the face, condescendingly listing the facts of her life and more or less rubbing her nose in it.
"How dare you," Willow spat at him. "Who are you to sit there and pass judgment on me? You don’t even know me!"
"Hit a nerve?" Spike asked with a look of cool disdain as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Taking a deep drag, he shook his head. "Look at yourself. You can’t possibly say you enjoy dressing like that, you only do it to please your friends…gain acceptance. Fear, that’s what it comes down to, love. You hide yourself beneath all that crap because you’re scared that if you showed your true colors your friends wouldn’t like you and you’d be alone…again. You act like their bloody lap dog, bowing to their every whim, especially that tedious Slayer. It’s pathetic,” he spat, narrowing his eyes as he took another deep drag on his smoke. “Still, what can you expect…"
Spike didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. Willow stormed over to him and threw herself at his chest, hitting him as hard as she could, catching him off guard and knocking him back onto the table. Her full body weight had gone into the blow and she ended up sprawled across his fallen form, the sound of his deep chuckle reverberated beneath her and she scrambled away from him. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough and as he sat back up he grabbed her wrist, holding the wildly writhing and furious redhead tightly.
"Now, that’s the girl I’d like to see more of," Spike laughed out loud at her fight. "Why don’t we put some of that fire and spirit into a dance?"
Without releasing his hold, Spike stubbed out his cigarette and stood up, easily pulling the still squirming Willow to him. There was nothing but fury and indignation in the green eyes that stared at him and Spike smirked. But the smirk was short lived as her foot slammed down on his and her teeth sank into his confining hand. Reacting purely on instinct to a spiteful attack, he pushed her, easily loosening her hold on his hand and throwing her back against the low bookcase, barely a few feet away. There was no force in the blow and Willow more or less slid back against the bookshelf, although a few of the volumes did fall as she collided with the shelves. Without hesitating, Willow grabbed the heavy books and started hurling them at her Spike, but in her blind fury she wasn’t even coming close to hitting him. However, to the vampire it was a highly amusing scene.
"You’re going to end up hurting yourself if you keep going like that," he laughed at her as he ducked to miss being hit by a flying encyclopedia. She was beginning to focus her anger toward him and the volumes were getting closer to their mark, making him back away to avoid being hit. Seeing her chance Willow took it, lunging for the tranquilizer gun that lay unprotected on the table. But Spike was quicker, yanking the gun from her grasp and tangling his free hand in her hair, tilting her head back to force her to look him directly in the eye. “Don’t tell me I’m going to have to put the dog down?"
"No, no don’t do that, please," Willow suddenly remembered his earlier threat and since Oz already had a double dose of the tranquilizer in his system it didn’t leave any room for her to cross the line with the vampire. She could feel tears burning in her eyes and Spike released his hold on her hair, gently pushing it off her pale face.
"Fine,” he dropped his hand down and clenched his jaw. Tossing the gun across the table and well out of arms reach, he decided that she was a bundle of trouble once she was stirred. “Let’s jive then."
"I can’t," Willow stated simply, crossing her arms on her chest.
"Can’t?” Spike raised his scarred eyebrow. “And here I was thinking that you’d do anything for your precious pup.”
"No, I mean I can’t,” Willow ground out from between her gritted teeth. “I don’t know how to."
"What do you they teach you in school? Honestly, the education system these days," Spike threw his hands up in a mocking gesture and shook his head as they fell to rest on his hips and he studied the glowering redhead before him. "Well, looks like it’s going to be a long night." Shrugging out of his leather duster, Spike tossed it aside on the table and grabbed Willow, spinning her about in the same style of the waltz they had previously been dancing. As his gaze fixed on her a lazy smile formed on his lips. "You know how to waltz, so we’ll go from there. All you have to do is follow me…”
It was as simple as that. Spike led her through the moves, manipulating her to shift with him and at first she stumbled. The steps were awkward and she was self-conscious, not only of her own inability but also of his hands on her and the very proximity of the blond. Initially they moved slowly, with Willow clumsily tripping over herself as she made a conscious effort to do what he wanted, but as the music continued, marking the passing hours, she began to find her feet. Steps were repeated until they moved efficiently together, no longer hesitant and faltering, and Willow felt exhilarated as they continued to dance. With the basic steps covered, turns and spins were added, and while Spike never relented his hold on her it was still a new sense of freedom for Willow. One that she reveled in, so much so that she forgot about his threats and who exactly he was, preferring to concentrate on the new found delight of dancing.
As the night wore on the music continued and so did their dancing. No matter what song came on, Spike managed to modify their movements, whether it be in the speed or intensity, to suit. Overall it was a giddying experience for Willow, it had to be considering that she was enjoying herself thoroughly and it wasn’t just the dancing. A strange conversation had started, silly comments mixed with laughter and there were any number of perplexing compliments from the vampire, which made her blush furiously. So it was nothing but a bitter disappointment when Spike finally stopped the dance, released her and walked away. She watched as he picked up his abandoned duster and eased it back on, pulling out his cigarettes and carelessly lighting one.
"Well, pet, do you think you’ve had enough?" he arched an eyebrow in question and blew the smoke in her general direction. Before Willow had a chance to answer a long and painful howl came from the inert werewolf and she turned her back on Spike to walk over to the cage, crouching down to watch him.
"The tranquilizer must be wearing off," Willow spoke quietly. She knew from experience that until the drugs wore off completely Oz would continue his howling spasmodically and it would probably infuriate Spike to no end. For a moment, Willow hesitated before deciding that she’d be better off to tell the vampire of Oz’s penchant for howling, it was better to warn him rather than to face the consequences of having a severely pissed off vampire. So Willow stood and turned, considering the best way to word her warning, only to come face to face with an empty library. Spike was gone, nowhere to be seen. The table was empty, save for the discarded tranquilizer gun, and apart from the scattered encyclopedias there was no evidence that the blond vampire had even been there, not even a cigarette butt. Tentatively, Willow took a step forward and once more swept over the empty area. "Spike?"
It was barely a whisper and Willow frowned, deciding it was safe to presume that he’d left. Shaking her head to clear her own doubts, Willow glanced up at the library clock, horrified to see that the sun would be up within the hour.
“I was not dancing with Spike for that long…” Willow stated to herself, glancing over her shoulder as Oz let out another howl, almost in protest that she had indeed spent hours upon hours dancing with the vampire. “Oh God, I was.”
Wildly she glanced about the library, at the scattered books and moving forward slightly, she caught sight of the Watcher diaries that she’d dropped hours ago. Chewing her bottom lip, she headed towards Giles’ office, stopping briefly to turn off the stereo, and picked up the Diaries, carefully putting them back in place so that the Watcher would be none the wiser. Rifling through his desk, she grabbed a crucifix and vial of Holy Water and took them back with her to the main area of the library, although she doubted that Spike would return. As a matter of fact she knew he wouldn’t be back, a quick glance at the tiny high windows showed that the sky was slowly getting lighter with the approaching dawn. Exhausted, she sat down at the table, laying her head down on the hard surface so she could stare at the encyclopedias. They were the only things that would divulge that anything out of the ordinary had happened during the night. Sighing, Willow closed her eyes, intent on resting them for a few moments before she put the books away and she would have, had she not fallen asleep.
And her slumped form at the huge table was the first thing that Giles saw as he walked through the library doors.
"Dear Lord, Willow," he yelled, dashing over to her, his hand falling on her shoulder. It was probably the wrong thing for him to do.
"AAAAAHHHHH!!!!" the scream ripped from Willow’s lips as she jumped up, sending her chair flying as she swung both her fists at her would be attacker. The crucifix that was still tightly clutched in her hand caught Giles on the cheek with enough force to send him sprawling to the ground. The commotion was loud enough to wake Oz and, unable to see anything that was going on and hearing Willow’s continuing scream, he yelled for her. There was a brief interlude in the scream as Willow refilled her lungs, only to open her mouth and renew the scream, slightly higher and definitely more hysterical as she held onto the crucifix in a trembling hand. Giles, sprawled on the ground and caught off guard by both Willow and Oz shrieking, screamed back. Oz looked down at his own nakedness, turned bright red, uttered "clothes" and proceeded to get dressed.
"Will you stop screaming," demanded Giles, dubiously feeling his cheekbone as he pushed himself off the floor.
"Only when you do," gasped Willow, looking around the library, checking that there was no one else there.
"I have," he snapped, positive that he was going to need ice for his cheek and wondering if he was going to bruise.
"Well…" Willow put down the cross and smoothed down her clothes. “Okay then.”
As nonchalantly as she could manage after being scared out of her wits, Willow walked over to the book cage and unlocked it, releasing Oz and enveloping him in a relieved hug. Giles, meanwhile, was glancing about the library, noting the mass of fallen encyclopedias and the dented panel of the book cage. Quietly picking up the tranquilizer gun, Giles checked the barrel and he turned back to watch Willow, tired but happily hugging Oz.
"Willow, what happened here last night?" Giles asked.
It was the question that Willow had been dreading. She could tell the truth…well, she had to tell the truth, they had to know what had happened. Yes, they simply had to know that Spike had come to the library, threatened herself and Oz and then forced her to spend the whole night dancing with him. Willow chewed on her bottom lip and glanced up at the Watcher, the scenario of what had happened sounded ridiculous and improbable even to her. Still, Giles was waiting for an explanation and she owed him nothing less than the truth.
"Frogs…" said Willow and gave him a half smile. She had one of those dreadful stress headaches building behind her eyes, making her head throb already.
"What?" both Giles and Oz asked her at once.
"Well…I saw a…frog," she started and she could clearly read the skepticism in Giles’ expression, while Oz squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Or rather, thought I did. After all it was nighttime, dark and all, hard to tell. Yes, well. It attacked me! Came right at me the slimy little sucker. So I had no choice but to defend myself."
"Defend yourself?" queried Giles. Willow had been looking at Oz, not quite sure she could lie directly to Giles’ face, and she glanced up at the Watcher, motioning towards the encyclopedias with her free hand.
"They were the first things that I could lay my hands on. So, I threw them…at the frog…which may, or may not have been there…but which definitely attacked me," Willow was nodding her head at Giles in affirmation of her ramblings and he was still watching her closely.
"So under those books we will find a dead frog?" Giles sighed, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Well, I guess – if I got it, that is…" Willow looked at the pile of books and didn’t see Giles pick up the tranquilizer gun.
"And you then shot this attacking amphibian with a tranquilizer?" Giles looked from the gun to Willow and waited.
"No, of course not," she laughed lightly at Giles until she realized that he was waiting for an explanation. For a brief moment she entertained the notion of telling him the truth, she was going to do it, no matter how ludicrous it sounded, she was going to tell him about Spike. "When the frog attacked me…Oz got upset…and…and, well I thought he was going to get out so…I…I…shot him."
“Twice?” Giles asked, putting the gun back down on the table.
“I missed the first time,” Willow stated. She wasn’t about to admit to Oz having a double shot of tranquilizer, especially if she was going to be held responsible for it.
"So, briefly, in summary," Giles took off his glasses and started to clean them. "You were defending yourself against a frog, which may or may not have been real, with encyclopedias, Oz became upset and you were forced to tranquilize him?"
Giles put his glasses back on and looked at Willow.
"Yes," Willow mumbled her response.
"Well," Giles glanced around the library, everything else seemed to be in order. "Stranger things have happened. This is the Hellmouth after all. You two had better go home and get ready for your classes."
With that Giles walked into his office, and Oz urged Willow to head out.
***
"Wow, attack of the killer frog," Buffy stated, after listening to the ‘accepted’ story of the night’s events as she walked to the library with Willow, Oz and Xander after their final class for the day had ended. “That would make an interesting movie title…”
Willow didn’t even bother to listen to the incoherent babblings of her friends. All day she had been fighting fatigue, a throbbing headache and the alarming notion that Spike’s speculation about her life was true. It had tormented her all day and she’d found herself making lists, dividing herself up and trying to affirm her position within the group and her life in general. She was important, an integral member in the Slayer’s circle, she was after all the hacker and next to Giles she was the number one researcher, but outside of those roles she wasn’t too certain. During the day she’d often found the scales would become unbalanced, leaning heavily in Spike’s favor, and it had put it her in a somewhat desolate mood. Especially as she followed her friends to the library, watching them, analyzing her various relationships with them.
There was Oz, the love of her life, although not the most communicative of people lately. He was starting to spend more time out on the road with the growing success of the band. Most weekends found the group playing gigs out of town and there was talk of scoring a few engagements down in LA. But they were gigs that Willow often only heard of when Oz came back, always with the reassurance of "I’m sorry babe. I thought I’d told you..." They never really spoke anymore, not since they’d consummated their relationship some weeks previously. Loving words were no longer needed, easily replaced by the physical act and Oz was always willing to show how much he adored her, if not in words than at least in deeds.
Then, of course, there was Xander. He and Willow had, through necessity, grown apart since the previous time Spike was in Sunnydale and they’d been caught in a compromising position. It was for the sake of her relationship with Oz, she’d made that sacrifice and Xander, while not entirely happy with the situation, had soon focused his interest elsewhere, in the form of his original crush involving the Slayer. Although they were still close friends, they weren’t as intimate as they had been, they didn’t share as much as they had and there were no longer the cozy discussions about their lives, dreams and problems. In fact Willow couldn’t even recall the last time she’d talked to him about herself, she hadn’t even told him that she’d slept with Oz.
Of course Xander wasn’t the only one she’d not told. Buffy still wasn’t aware of the momentous event in her best friend’s life, Willow could never seem to find the right time to tell her. There was too much going on in the Slayer’s life, most of which consisted of slaying, despairing that she would have no life apart from slaying, lamenting the fact she was behind in her studies and mooning over her relationship with Angel. The responsibilities of being the Slayer at such a young age certainly weighed heavily and while Willow reasoned that Buffy was just in her need to vent, she wondered when it would be her turn to reciprocate.
Although she hated to admit it, Spike was right, she had allowed herself to become the doormat for her friends, listening to their problems, helping them when needed and doing everything they wanted. Not that she could blame them for that, they’d never forced her into anything, she’d been more than willing in her subordinance, it had been a way to ensure that she was needed by her friends. And now, now it was simply second nature. Sighing, Willow sat down on a chair at the library table and rubbed at her temples.
"Willow?" she heard Giles call her through the fog of her ever-increasing headache.
"What?" she asked, frowning up at him, wondering what she’d missed and her frown softened at the look of concern on his face.
"I was merely asking if you wanted me to stay with you and Oz tonight?"
"No, no we’ll be fine," she stated, closing her eyes and shaking her head. All she really wanted to do was scream for everyone to go away so she could work through her thoughts, but she couldn’t and Oz leant over her, kissing her softly on the forehead.
"I’ll see you in the morning, babe," he murmured and headed off to the cage.
"Well, I have some research to do so I’ll be here for a little while anyway," Giles turned to glance at Buffy. "Where are you planning to patrol tonight?"
"Oh, Angel and I thought we’d just do a tour of the cemeteries and get an early night," Buffy shrugged. "We’re meeting here and then we’ll go out."
"Good, you can help us with research until Angel arrives," Giles turned to the table only to find Willow in the same position as he’d discovered her in that morning. "Oh dear, looks like it will just be you and I, Buffy."
Carefully Giles picked up the sleeping girl and carried her to the couch in his office, covering her with a light blanket.
***
"Willow," she was vaguely aware of feeling warm, hearing her name and something cool brushing against her cheek. "Willow…Willow…"
Cool fingers brushed against her sleep warmed cheek and ran through her hair. There was something odd about the fingers that caressed her, so cool and softer than Oz’s, no callous’ marred the tips and the skin was deceptively soft against her face. It was such a noticeable difference that it startled Willow from the remnants of sleep and she forced her eyes open to focus on Angel, sitting next to her on the couch. Pulling his hand away from her face, he stood up and took a step away.
"Angel?" Willow asked, still disorientated from her sleep as she sat up and took in her surroundings. There was no mistaking that she was in Giles’ office, but she couldn’t exactly remember making her way there and it suddenly hit her. Pushing the blanket off her legs, she stood up, ran her fingers through her hair and straightened her clothes. "Oh God, I fell asleep. What time is it? Is Oz okay? What are you doing here?"
"Sorry to wake you, but I just wanted to know if you’d be okay until I come back after patrol," Angel stated. Before Giles had left he’d suggested that either Angel or Buffy should stay with Willow, considering the frog incident of the night before, and Angel had readily agreed that he’d come back once he safely saw Buffy home. Watching the redhead now, in her flustered state, Angel couldn’t help but wonder if she would be all right until he came back.
"Oh, Angel. That’s really nice of you to offer, but you know, I’ll be fine. Honestly," Willow glanced at the clock that sat on Giles’ desk. It was already quite late, almost midnight and there was part of Willow that was screaming for her to accept Angel’s offer. However in the dark recesses of her mind she honestly thought that Spike coming to her last night had been a freak incident, which she put down to vampire boredom being relieved by terrifying her, and that he wouldn’t be bothering her again. She had even been fooling with the idea that the incident had been part of a carefully planned scheme, get her scared so that she would ask Angel to stay with her, leaving Buffy on her own and defenseless. Okay, so Buffy would never be defenseless, but Angel was extra protection for the Slayer. It was as simple as that to Willow and made her determined that she wouldn’t allow it to happen. Angel, however, had other ideas.
"I don’t know, Willow,” Angel argued, following her out of the office. “I kind of promised Giles…"
"Angel, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. As for Giles, don’t worry…" Willow began, only to be interrupted as Buffy came back from the bathroom.
"Why would Angel be worried about Giles?" she asked.
"Angel wants to come back here after patrol – but I don’t need him too," Willow explained to Buffy, silently imploring her with a look before turning back to Angel. “And you know what? It seems to upset Oz even more when there are others here apart from me. So really it would just make things difficult. You know what I mean, don’t you, Angel?"
Angel knew he was in trouble as soon as the redhead turned those huge green eyes on him. What she had said was true, Oz had been pretty riotous for most of the night so far and Willow did seem to have the most calming affect on him. Angel grimaced, perhaps it would just be adding to both Oz and Willow’s stress levels if he stayed. But still, he had promised Giles and there was something about the library tonight, something that was making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, a strange kind of turbulence in the air. Turning back to the redhead, he was about to tell her he was definitely coming back when Buffy grabbed his arm.
"You know, she’s right. Oz does get kinda wigged out when he’s in wolf mode. Maybe it would be best if they were left alone. I only think Giles asked ‘cause he got freaked out this morning," Buffy swung his arm lightly, smiling sweetly and as Angel glanced from girl to girl, both their faces plastered with ‘it’ll be okay’ smiles, he let out an unnecessary sigh and rolled his eyes.
"I guess there’s no point in arguing against the two of you. Willow, are you sure you’ll be okay?" he asked, reluctantly knowing he was going to leave her alone.
"Yes, fine. Now go!" she pointed towards the doors with an outstretched arm.
"See ya tomorrow, Willow," Buffy said as she dragged a reluctant Angel from the library.
Willow listened to their fading footsteps and Angel’s protests of ‘but I promised Giles’. Eventually the sounds died off completely and she walked over to the book cage, crouching down to gaze at Oz. It always amazed her how different he was in wolf mode, as Buffy called it, so eerily different that it was unnerving. The eyes were the most terrifying of all, so animalistic, so wild, nothing of the calm and reflective eyes she was use to. Feral eyes stared at her for the longest of time and then the nose wrinkled as the lips curled back in a farcical grin that became a snarl and he launched himself at the door of the cage. Gasping in fear, Willow stood up and stumbled back…straight into a cool, hard body.
"Hello, Willow," Spike whispered against her ear and she felt his growl, rather than heard it, as it made its way through his chest. The sound of which caused Oz to become even more frantic in his fight and the cage rattled in the face of his rage.
"Stop it," Willow turned to face Spike. "You’re upsetting him!"
"Oh, I’ll upset him," Spike moved toward the cage, roughly kicking the door and causing the hysterical werewolf to throw himself harder against it. Spike swung around to face Willow, raising the tranquilizer gun and resting it against his shoulder. "You know if he keeps doing that he could get out and we wouldn’t want that now."
Smirking at Willow, he gave the cage another forceful kick as he lowered the tranquilizer gun and fired. For the second night, Oz’s inert form fell to the floor of the cage. With a half strangled cry of horror, Willow brought her hands up to cover her face. The haven of that warmth and darkness was only fleeting, Spike’s cool fingers ran over the length of her forearms and fingers entwined with hers as he gently pried them away from her face. Lifting her head, she met his bemused gaze as one side of his mouth twisted into a half smirk.
"Come on, no fight tonight? Maybe that’s just as well, I’m not in the mood for ducking bloody books," he stated, turning away and leading her on the same route as the previous night, to the stereo and then back to the floor in front of the cage. "Now, let’s see how well you remember your lessons, pet."
One twirl was all it took for Willow to find herself in the all too familiar dancing position, her hand held firmly in Spike’s while his other arm was wrapped about her waist. Then there was nothing but the music and the dance. The surreal sensation of being held in strong arms, guided through the steps as they moved together in time to the music. There were slow caresses of flesh as his hand dragged over her arm every time he passed her out in a spin and then the welcomed pressure of his fingers running down the length of her spine as she spun back into his embrace. The palm of his hand cupped the small of her back while his fingers rested against the curve of her waist, brushing lightly against her and occasionally dropping down to sweep across the swell of her ass, pulling her in closer to him. With the constant movement of their dancing, the light and intimate touches were barely discernable, but they were enough to have Willow yielding to him, her body moving in closer as she instinctively sought out the sensual caresses.
Willow wasn’t certain how long they’d been dancing for when the slow song came on the radio. There could have been five or twenty songs that they’d danced to for all she knew, but as the dance changed to suit the tempo, it seemed that she fell deeper under its the thrall. Her eyes suddenly felt heavy as she was drawn closer to Spike, his hand resting low on her back and her own hand dropped from his shoulder to mimic his hold on her. He was deceptively warm under the leather of his duster and the silk of his shirt was soft beneath her hand. They continued to move together, their legs brushing against each other and more often than not a denim-clad thigh was worked between her tight bound ones, the rough material creating a strange friction. Their legs weren’t the only things creating friction, as they danced slowly the embrace tightened and Willow was drawn closer, her breasts brushing against Spike’s chest. The smell of leather and cigarettes was overwhelming as Willow tilted her head, her mouth barely millimeters from his pale neck and her fingers flexed under the warmth of his duster. As her breasts once more brushed across his chest she stumbled in his embrace, releasing her hold on him and gasping. Even as she stopped dancing and took a step away from the vampire she could feel the blood rushing to her face, making her cheeks blush bright red.
"Love?" Spike stopped their movements and raised his scarred eyebrow.
"What?" Willow frowned, trying to drag her hand from his grasp and she glanced up at him, into those cold and empty blue eyes. She bit her lip and tried once more to free her hand, only to no avail. "Can you let me go please?"
Smirking, Spike pulled her body flush against his and lowered his head, his lips barely millimeters from hers.
"If you really want me to," laughing, he pushed her away and turned his back on the confused redhead, swaggering towards table. "I think you’re ready for the Tango."
"Tango?" whispered Willow, watching as he sat on the table edge and lit a cigarette. "Why are you doing this? I mean, what’s the point?"
"What’s the point? You see no reason to this – do you?" Spike questioned her and Willow shook her head, raising a smirk from the blond. "That’s because to you there is no reason. Call it a distraction."
"So there is a reason for you?" Willow narrowed her eyes. She knew he was twisting his words, being ambiguous in his answers. It was to be expected since he’d had decades of experience at being elusive and if he didn’t want to tell her then she had no real hope of finding out…but she could at least try to gain some insight. Blowing out a stream of smoke, Spike smirked. He knew exactly what she was thinking, could see it in her face.
"There are always reasons. But as I said before, it’s a distraction," he put out his cigarette and sauntered towards her. "Now, Tango."
Willow groaned and shook her head. “I don’t know how to Tango.”
“You can walk, you can Tango,” Spike said, simplifying the dance to its very basics.
“Walk?” Willow questioned scornfully and she shook her head, frowning as Spike wandered ever closer. “You’re…” she knew she was asking for trouble the minute she thought of the words she was going to say, but for some reason she couldn’t keep them to herself. “You’re not all together there, are you?”
“Walk,” the word was snarled out and Willow took a step backwards, only to have the blond follow.
The time had come, Willow decided, she’d pissed him off and he was going to kill her, so she kept walking backwards and he kept following. Step by step, he moved closer and together they moved backwards, until he was practically on top of her, then she changed tactics and tried to side step him. Only he was there already and pulled her up short, the malevolent smirk curling about his lips as his eyes darkened. Again she tried to side step him, but he moved too quickly, blocking her way and forcing her to twist and turn away. The onslaught was constant, he kept circling her, forcing her to step where he wanted to go, but never once did he touch her, even though there was only a hairsbreadth between them. He didn’t have to, he held her to him with his eyes, indigo pools that were full of wicked intent and sinful promises.
The music playing in the background didn’t match their steps, but it didn’t matter because Willow couldn’t hear it. There was only the pounding of her heart and the rush of air as she breathed. She couldn’t even hear the sound of their steps nor the soft creak of Spike’s duster as they moved about. The steps lengthened and as he leant over her, she was forced to cling to his arm to stop from falling. Not that she would’ve fallen as his arm wrapped about her waist and held her tightly to him, ensuring that she was safe. Their measured steps continued, their lower bodies pressed together and Spike ran his free hand along her arm, dropping his fingers down to entwine in hers. Never once did he take his eyes off her, even though the smirk fell away and he raised their hands, covering hers on his chest as they danced.
Then Spike made the mistake of breaking the spell by passing her out in a spin. While he still held her hand, the rest of the contact was broken and Willow pulled away from him, stumbling as she spun back in to crash against him and her breath hitched. Together they repeated the steps of the dance, but they were as conflicting with the music as they were with Willow. She faltered and stumbled, trying desperately to free herself of the vampire every time he passed her out in a turn, the momentum of her fight was enough to throw her off balance as she moved back into the intimate embrace and she would be knocked against his chest or trip over her own feet. It was when she head butted him for the third time that Spike released his hold on her and stopped the dance.
"If you keep doing that,” he growled out at her in frustration. “Then you’ll break."
"Well, what am I meant to do? I told you I don’t know how to tango…” Willow wasn’t about to admit to being the one to blame for the faltering steps. “Anyway, you’re the one that keeps spinning me too hard.”
"Come here,” Spike demanded, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the huge table that sat squat in the middle of the library floor. Before she could say anything, he hauled her up onto the smooth tabletop and pulled her in close to him. "Now, you can’t go any further than the edge – otherwise you’ll break your bloody neck."
Willow looked up at him in horror and her hold him tightened as she realized he was right. Their stance was rigid from fear and frustration, it was nothing reminiscent of the previous demeanor that had accompanied them. As Santana’s “Smooth” began to play on the radio, Spike smirked and chuckled slightly.
"This is just too perfect," he murmured, stepping forward and forcing Willow to retreat. As she stepped back blindly, the heel of her foot left the edge of the table and she screwed her eyes shut, clinging to him.
Spike smirked as he moved them about the table, pushing her right to the edge as he got use to the room they had and re-established the steps that had come so easily to them the first time. With every move he made, he became bolder, stepping out and taking Willow with him. There was no resistance this time, no fight, she clung to him as she was forced into an uneasy acquiescence, desperate in her belief that he wouldn’t let her fall. It was a trust that was soon tested as he passed her out in a spin, although she was nowhere near the edge she wasn’t aware of that because she still hadn’t opened her eyes, so she had to trust him, to submit to him and hope that his delicate hold on her fingers would be enough to keep her safe. There was that blinding moment of terror where she was spun free of his body, the only contact was his cool fingers against her own, and there seemed to be nothing else until she was spun back in and the length of their bodies once more met. Willow shivered as his hand ran down the length of her spine, coming to rest in the curve of her waist as he once more stepped out with her.
"Open your eyes, Willow," he murmured, that intangible indigo gaze fixing on her as her eyes slowly fluttered open.
Together they continued to dance with Spike tempting fate by precariously balancing them on the edge of the table. The steps became bolder, the spins and turns more daring, almost lascivious in their existence as their bodies pressed intimately against each other and Willow complied to his every whim. Even as the song came to a close and his hands began to wander, she still moved with him, trapped in his gaze and the hypnotic rhythm of the dance. One hand wrapped about her knee, pulling it up to his waist and he loomed over her, forcing her to fall back and she closed her eyes as he held her. His mouth dropped down to press a kiss between her breasts and she arched up into the caress, but it was only fleeting and she couldn’t even be certain of its existence as he released her knee and pulled her back up.
They were standing still, in the middle of the table and Willow’s startled wide eyes were fixed on his blue gaze. There was no smirk, no arrogance and for a fleeting moment the usually ice-cold gaze seemed clouded with something that Willow couldn’t quite place. Without warning, Spike spun them and broke her gaze to glance towards the double doors of the library.
“As much of a pleasant distraction this is, I really have to go," Spike stated, his arms were still wrapped about her waist and he spun them. Once, twice, too many times for Willow to be certain, even as she came to a standstill in the middle of the table, completely alone. Frowning, she glanced about the library, the brightly lit floor area was empty and she could see nothing in the shadows of the stacks. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she wrapped her arms about herself and did one more slow circle on top of the table, scanning the deserted library. There was nothing, not a single sign that the blond had been there and she held her breath, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
Behind her the doors of the library swung open and Angel walked in.