>From Salice:  To the Candy Orgy! you know who you
are....and to Kat, who wanted more.
 

Part 1

Willow wiped down the table before she set the tray filled with salt shakers and a plastic container of salt. As she slid into the booth, she glanced
at her watch. *Damn, still half an hour before I can leave,* she thought.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve looked a you’re watch in the last ten minutes,” a voice said beside her.

The red head glanced up, startled. It was the other waitress, Nutmeg. “Is it?” she asked, slightly embarrassed she’d been caught.

“It is. I timed it. Do you have a hot date tonight or something?” Nutmeg asked.

“Yes.”

With an excited squeal, the tall girl grabbed a seat across the booth from Willow. “Ooh. Do tell.” She folded her arms on the table and leaned
forward to catch every word.

“Well...” Willow started. She glanced around the cafe. It was still empty. George, the short order cook, stood in the back reading a Chemistry text
book. “Okay. I met him on line.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But it turns out that we already knew each other,” she said as she began pouring salt.

Nutmeg took the filled container and twisted the top on tight. “How exciting. So when did you find out you knew each other?”

“Well, he found out about a month ago, but I only figured it out a couple of weeks ago,” Willow explained.

“You mean he didn’t tell you right away?” the dark blond asked.

“No. At first, he thought I was playing him. And then when he realized I wasn’t playing him, he said he wasn’t sure how I’d react when I did find
out.”

“How did you react?”

“I was pissed. I thought _he_ was playing me for the fool. See, we were never what you would call friends before. In fact, you might say we were
enemies.”

Nutmeg stared at the red head for a second. “Do you know what this reminds me of?”

“No. What?” Willow asked as she finished filling the last salt shaker.

“That movie.”

“What movie?”

Nutmeg gathered the filled shakers in her arms and began to distribute them to the tables and counter. “That one with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.
You’ve Got Mail. That is totally what happened to you.”

Willow tried to remember the romantic comedy. “I guess. Never really thought about it, but I suppose so.”

“So where are you going?” she asked.

Willow just shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably out to dinner, maybe a movie.”

Moving closer to the red head, Nutmeg nudged her with an elbow. “So any nudge, nudge, wink, wink,” she giggled.

“Huh?”

“You know. Are you doing the horizontal romba? Or are you still in the heavy petting stage?” Nutmeg asked.

“Nutmeg!”

“What!? Hey, I haven’t had a date in over a month. I need to live vicariously through others,” she said with a pout.

“No horizontal romba. Not for lack of trying on his part, though. I will admit I’m tempted, but still not sure he how he really feels about me,” Willow
sighed.

“Can’t you just have sex for sex’s sake?”

“No. The last guy I went out with I thought I loved and loved me ended up cheating on me,” Willow explained. “I’m not going to go through that
heartache again.”

Nutmeg just shrugged. “That’s cool.” She glanced up at the wall clock. “Oh, look. It’s eight. Time for you to go home and beautify yourself for your
man.”

The red head shook her head and put away the container of salt. “Good night, Nutmeg,” she said before she walked out the front door.

“Good night, Willow.”

****
Spike glanced at the clock again. It still read eight. He still had an hour before he could leave to see Willow. With a frustrated grunt he sat before
his computer. With a few clicks of the mouse he pulled up his e-mail. “Bloody chain mail,” he muttered as he deleted them quickly. He surfed through
his favorite sites and found a new site for the Sex Pistols. He jumped when the phone rang.

“What do you want?” he said in greeting.

“Spike,” a broody voice said in a warning tone.

“Again, what do you want? Peaches,” Spike growled.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“You and Willow,” Angel said.

“How the bloody hell did you hear about that?” Spike asked.

“Cordelia told me.”

Spike rolled his eyes. Getting information from the man he considered his sire was like pulling teeth. “And how did the cheerleader hear about it?”

“Cordy and Willow talk a lot. Now answer the question,” Angel demanded.

“Kind of. Not that it’s any of your business,” Spike growled into the receiver.

Angel growled back. “Willow is my friend. You hurt her and I will dust you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m also calling to grant you a favor,” Angel continued as if he hadn’t heard Spike.

“Never asked you for a bloody favor,” Spike replied.

“Yeah, but I’ll grant you one anyway. I’m inviting you down to LA for the summer.”

“Why?”

“First of all, I could use the help. Summer time in LA is a busy time for us. Secondly, as I said Willow is my friend and for some reason she likes you.
Being in Sunnydale with Buffy there can’t be easy,” Angel said.

Spike thought about it. While the Slayer didn’t know about his and Willow’s relationship, it was only a matter of time before she found out. When
that happened she would be all over him. And not in the way he wanted Willow all over him. LA would offer them the opportunity to explore their
relationship without the Slayer’s interference. “I’ll talk to Willow tonight about it.”

“Good. Just remember what I said,” Angel warned.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got it,” he said as he hung up. He stared at the phone for a minute. In the background a faint “Goodbye” sounded. Turning, the
blonde vampire stared at his computer for a moment. “Bloody hell,” he cursed. “Damn AOL bastards. If I ever find you people I’m gonna kill you all.”

****
Spike wandered around the shop looking for the perfect gift for Willow. He growled in frustration when his ten minute search came up empty.
“Bloody hell. I’m a ponce. Plain and simple. I’m a ponce,” he muttered to himself.

“Back again?” the clerk said from behind him.

Turning, he glanced at the man. “Yeah.”

“She must be really special. You’ve been in here practically every other day,” he said.

“Yeah,” Spike repeated.

“Well, you’ve given her a lot of roses. Why not try something different? We just got an order of Tiger lilies,” he said as he opened one of the
refrigerated storage units. He slipped inside and found the beautiful blooms. Bringing out a bunch, he showed them to the peroxide blonde.

“Tiger lilies, huh?” Spike said as he looked at the delicate flowers. “Okay, I’ll take them.”
 
 

Part 2

The loud knock at the door startled Willow from the
fantasy world of Harry Potter.  She paused to finish
the last sentence of the chapter before placing her
Snoopy bookmark between the pages.  “Just a second,”
she called as another knock broke the silence of the
apartment.

As she passed the mirror she stopped to check her
appearance.  *Not bad,* she thought as she gave her
bangs a little fluff.  She opened the door and smiled.
 “Hey, Spike,” she greeted semi-casually.

“Here,” he said as he thrust the bouquet of Tiger
lilies in her hands and pushed his way into the
apartment.

“Well, hello to you, too, sweets,” she said
sarcastically.

Spike glared at her as he picked up the thick hard
covered book Willow had left on the couch.  “Harry
Potter and The Goblet of Fire?  You actually read this
junk?” he asked.

“Yes,” Willow answered, making a grab for the book.
“And it’s not junk.  They happen to be very well
written,” she defended and stuck her tongue out at
him.  She finally got her hand on the book and set it
on the coffee table beside the flowers.  “Now.  Tell
me what’s wrong?”

“Peaches called,” he spat as he flopped onto the
couch.

Willow sat beside him and tucked her bare feet
underneath her.  “Angel called you?” she asked more
than a little shocked.  She knew the two vampires’
relationship was touchy at best.

“Yep.  Prom Queen,” he started.

“May Queen,” Willow corrected.

“Whatever.  Anyway, she told the Poof that you
are...dating,” he said, spitting out the last word.

“Oh?  And who did she say I was dating?”

“Me!  Who the bloody hell else would she say you were
dating?” he demanded.

“Just checking.  So then what happened?” Willow asked.

“What do you think happened?  He threatened me,” Spike
growled.  “Then he invited us to Los Angeles,”

Excited, the red head knelt up on the couch.  “Really?
 We can go to LA?” she asked.  With a sudden abundance
of energy, she jumped to her feet and grabbed the
flowers.  “So can we go?” she asked again sounding
like a child wanting to go to Disneyland.  She grabbed
a vase from the kitchen cabinet and filled it with
water.

“Do you really want to go, Luv?” Spike asked as he
turned to face her.

“Yes...well, only if you want to go,” she answered.
Her bright green eyes pleading for a positive
response.

“Pet, I don’t...”  Willow’s bottom lip began its sweet
pout.  “I hate when you do that,” he whined.  He
extended his hand to her.  She slipped her hand into
his and settled onto his lap.  “We can go to LA,” he
sighed.

“YES!” she squealed as she threw her arms around his
neck.  She jumped up and did a quick Snoopy dance.
Spike stared at her with his jaw ajar.  A sudden laugh
erupted from his lips.  She paused and smiled at him.
“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“That’s the infamous Snoopy dance?”

“Yep.”

Spike stood up and pulled her into his arms.  “It’s
bloody adorable,” he said, planting a kiss on her
lips.

“Xander does it much better than I do,” she teased as
she kissed him back.

Spike shuttered in horror.  “Never.”   Willow giggled
and kissed his chin.  He lifted her against him.  As
his mouth lowered to claim hers, Willow’s toes dangled
over his boots.  She parted her lips in invitation and
Spike accepted.  Their tongues danced together as her
arms twined around his neck.  Spike backed up and when
he felt the couch brush the back of his calves he
lowered them on to the couch.  His callused fingers
lightly stroked her bare thighs.  His lips moved from
hers and caressed her chin then nipped gently at the
tender flesh of her neck.

Willow moaned as she felt his fang scratch her skin.
It was a minor cut, no worse than a paper cut.  A
thrill ran down her spine as Spike licked the few
drops of blood away.

As he tasted the sweet taste of her, Spike pulled
away.  He leaned his head against the back of the
couch for a moment.  Once he had found some thread of
control he opened his eyes and gazed into her deep
emerald stare.  Although, they were dark with passion,
he knew nothing more would happen tonight.  *Damn it,*
he cursed to himself.

“That was nice,” Willow smiled softly at him.

He reached up and brushed a bit of hair from her eyes.
 “Yeah, it was.”

“Oh!  I’ve got to call work!” Willow exclaimed as she
climbed off Spike’s lap, nearly kneeing him in the
groin.

“What for?” he asked.

“I’ve got to get someone to take my hours while I’m
gone,” she said as she picked up the phone and dialed.
 “I doubt there would be a problem.  It’s summer and
everyone wants more...  Oh, hi, Nutmeg.”

“Nutmeg?” Spike asked, but Willow just turned her back
on him.

“Is George there?  George, it’s Willow.  I know it’s
short notice, but I was wondering if I could have the
summer off?  Los Angeles.  No, I’m not running away to
be come an actress.  Okay.  Great.  Thanks.”  She hung
up the phone and returned to the couch.

“The whole summer, pet?” he asked.  While he figured
he could tolerate the Poof for a couple of weeks he
wasn’t too sure about a couple of months.

Grabbing the remote control, Willow turned on the
television and flipped through the channels until she
found The Real World marathon-- New York to New
Orleans.  “Oh, we don’t have to stay with Angel for
the whole summer.  In fact we don’t have to stay in LA
either, but I figured it would be easier to do things
together if I didn’t work every night.  I know how you
are about daytime dates,” she said as she snuggled
into his side.

“Well, I have out grown that spontaneous combustion
phase,” he said as they watched the true story of
seven strangers.
****
Willow rubbed her cheek against Spike’s broad chest as
she watched the London cast trek through Africa.  She
glanced up at the peroxide blonde.  She smiled at his
closed eyes and slack jaw.  His fingers stroking the
bend of her elbow told her he was awake.  A loud
snoring snort caused a giggle to rip through Willow.
“Okay, okay.  I get the point.  You don’t want to
watch The Real World.  So what do you want to watch?”
she asked.

His bright blue eyes popped open.  “ESPN?” he asked
hopefully.

“No.”

“How about that dead people flick?”

“How many times have you seen The Sixth Sense anyway?”

“Okay, fine.  What do you want to watch?”

“10 Things I Hate About You?”

“No.”

“Ever After?”

“Blech.”

Willow tried to think of a movie they both would
enjoy.  Something romantic, yet bloody.  “Braveheart?”

“Okay.”

Willow rolled off the couch and crawled over to the
video cabinet.  She searched for the movie.  “So when
can we go to LA?” she asked with her head in the
cabinet.

Spike’s eyes focused on the soft round curves.  “Huh?
When ever you want, Kitten,” he said distractedly.

Locating the DVD, Willow crawled over to the player.
“This weekend?”

“This weekend?”  She glanced at him over her shoulder.
 “Yeah, I guess, that’s fine.”

She pressed play and crawled back into his arms.  With
a tug, Spike pulled a hand-made quilt over the two of
them.
****
Buffy sat on her best friend’s bed watching the red
head decide what to pack.  “So when do I get to meet
this guy?” she asked for the nine hundredth time.

Willow folded a jade green skirt and placed it in her
suitcase.  “I’m not sure you should meet him,” she
answered.

Buffy put down the shoe she’d been playing with.  “Why
not?”

Leaning against the footboard, Willow sighed.  “I’m
not sure you’d like him.  And then there’d be all this
tension.  And that tension could put a strain on our
relationship.  And that would be bad cuz I really like
him and I’d hate to have the two of you fighting all
the time.  I’d be caught in the middle and have to
divide my time between the two of you.  If I spent
more time with you, he’d get upset and vice versa.  It
would be a big old mess.”

“What makes you so sure I’d hate him?” the blonde
asked with a laugh.

“Well, let’s just say personal history,” Willow
answered.

Buffy’s hazel eyes stared intently at the red head.
“Personal past history?  Did I go out with him at one
time?”

She took her time in answering.  “Kind of, but it was
a really short romance.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s Parker.  Anyone, but
Parker.”

Willow stood up and grabbed  some more clothes from
her closet.  “Oh, please.  Give me some credit here,
Buff.  I’d sooner spit on him than date Parker.”

The Slayer flopped back on the bed.  “Well, it must be
pretty serious if you’re going away with him,” she
sighed as she stared at the ceiling.

“Kind of.  At least, I hope it is.”

Buffy rolled onto her stomach.  “So have you done it
yet?”

Willow paused in her folding.  “Not yet.”

“Are you going to?” she asked with a wicked smile.

Willow blushed as she set some underwear in the
suitcase.  “I don’t know.  It’s kind of scary.”

Buffy looked at her friend in surprise.  “Willow.  Are
you saying you’ve never done it?”

“No.”

“‘No’ you’re not saying that or ‘no’ you’ve never done
it?”

“No, I’ve never done it,” Willow answered.

“But what about Oz?” Buffy asked as she sat up.

“What about Oz?”

“I’m surprised you and Oz never had sex.”

“Well, after that whole kissing Xander thing, it just
never seemed right and then before I knew it.  He’d
screwed Veruca and the relationship was over.  I’m
taking things slow now,” Willow said.

“But you guys do kiss and stuff, right?”

Willow sank down onto the bed with a blissful smile.
“Oh, yeah.”

Buffy giggled at the silly look on her face.  “Well,
don’t sit there looking blissful.  Spill,” she
demanded.

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