Part 1
"Woo-hoo-hoo!" Buffy yelled, sticking her head out of
the open roof of Riley's black Jeep. The commando
grinned up at his girlfriend before the blonde plopped
back down in the passenger seat and gave him a peck on
the cheek. "This is gonna kick so much ass!" she
exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear.
"Only 'cause you're here," Riley chided, and was
rewarded with another kiss from the Slayer.
"I think I've suddenly contracted car sickness," Spike
grumbled from his place in the back next to Willow.
"Shut up, Spike, unless you want to join us in our
week of fun in the sun," Buffy rolled her eyes.
"I'm frightened. Really."
Willow gave him a light bap on the arm.
"What?" he asked, clutching his arm in feigned pain.
"You hush. We are all going on this vacation and we
are going to enjoy the hell out of it even if we have
to die trying."
"Sounds like fun."
Spike rummaged through his duster pockets, finally
retrieving a battered pack of Marlboro's and his
lighter. He cupped his hands around the small flame
and puffed on the tobacco-filled paper tube.
"Ooh! Buffy! Turn it up!" Willow exclaimed, and her
friend complied, twisting the knobs on the radio. The
Vengaboys, on full volume and bass, pumped through the
car. The Witch and the Slayer both began dancing in
their seats, lifting their arms and swaying their hips
to the beat. Spike, through his enhanced hearing,
could hear Willow singing along even through the
ridiculous loudness of the song.
"Whoa, whoa, this is what I wanna do... whoa, whoa,
let's have some fun... whoa, whoa, boy I want just me
and you... whoa, whoa, boom boom boom boom, I want you
in my room... let's spend the night together from now
until forever..."
Despite the song's thisclose-to-irritating poppiness,
the vampire had to admit that he didn't mind the
lyrics all that much. Especially coming from Willow.
He watched her dance, smirking and shaking his head as
she looked up and winked at him playfully. She rolled
her back like a snake, allowing the motion to continue
down to her hips. Spike thought absently that he'd
have to take the little Witch clubbing. She could
turn out to be quite the impressive dancer.
With that last thought, he returned his attention to
his cigarette and glared out the window in his
standard face of indifference. In only a few hours,
they four of them, along with Xander, Anya, and Giles,
would be in the rumored paradise of Devil's Island, a
somewhat small fragment of land off the coast of one
of the major Hawaiian islands. The island itself
belonged to the Watchers Council, and was originally
purchased to serve as a getaway for the prestigious
Council. However, it was next to never occupied.
Giles had explained that "Watcher's don't usually take
vacations." And with good reason.
Though he had quit the Council, the Englishman still
knew of the island's existence, and also of its lack
of visitors. It would be perfect for a week away from
all the commotion of the Hellmouth. Demonic activity
had dropped drastically since the Initiative showed
up, and Buffy along with everyone else was more that
happy to allow them to take charge for seven days. It
all seemed almost too perfect...
And so here they were now, pulling into one of the
many parking structures of the LAX airport. Riley
parked and the four got out of the Jeep and went to
the trunk to retrieve their things. Four duffle bags
in hand and a locked car later, they made their way to
the shuttle terminal to await the arrival of their
friends, or in some cases, enemies.
"I hate planes," Spike mumbled, leaning lazily against
a wall.
"Why? Fear of flying?" Willow asked. The blond shook
his head.
"Nah. Feel all cooped up. And it's boring as all
bloody hell. Not to mention that the food sucks.
Stewardesses all pumped full of generic coffee and
taste all dry from the air."
At this, the other three shot him a look which he
promptly shrugged off.
"'s true."
"Anyway... I wonder what's keeping the others?" Riley
questioned. He was answered almost immediately by the
sound of two voices--one snooty and English, the other
protesting and annoyedly whiney.
"You drive like a bloody pillock! You're worse than
Spike," Giles glared.
"Hey--*nobody's* worse than Spike. At anything,"
Xander rebuttled.
"'ey, now! Just because I'm bad doesn't mean I'm
*bad.* Opposite, actually, from what I've been told,"
Spike defended himself cockily.
"Now this is where lying factors in--"
"Xander, shut up. Can we at least *try* to make it to
Hawaii with all of us in one piece? Once we're there,
the have at each other, as long as it's nowhere my
spot of beach," Willow silenced the two men. They
exchanged comical looks of disgust and the trip to the
plane began with the now quiet group surrounded by the
buzzing hum of people swarming this way and that
through the crowded twilight airport.
*
"Wanker."
"Cheese head."
"Moron."
"Impotent."
"Will you two shut up?!" Buffy ordered, peering back
over her seat at the two rows behind her. Willow had
lulled to sleep shortly after take off, her head
resting on Spike's shoulder. The act might've been
adorable, if Xander and Spike hadn't been exchanging
insults like immature schoolboys. Anya had taken off
to the restroom, leaving the Slayer and her commando
to take the verbal brunt of the ludicrous blows. They
had been trying to watch the in-flight movie, but both
had given up with the distraction of the pathetic
fight behind them.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Slayer."
"Don't talk to Buffy like that."
"What? You gonna slap my hand with a bloody ruler?"
The sudden stirring of the girl beside him caused him
to calm slightly.
"Mmm... Spike? What's going on?" Willow asked around
a yawn.
"Nothing, pet. Go back to sleep."
"Can't now," she murmured, sitting upright and
stretching. She glanced out the window, smiling at
the complete blackness of the night-time ocean below.
"We should be there soon."
"Good. One more hour in this tin can with that
sodding mule behind me and I'll--"
"Spike!"
He sighed. "Want a bloody fag..."
Sighing once again for dramatic impact, he stretched
back in his seat and closed his eyes, wrapping an arm
around the redhead's shoulders. She blinked awkwardly
and tried to make her jumping heart rate relax at his
cool touch.
"Mmm... you're warm..." he mumbled, sleep already
beginning to claim him. Cautiously, and with nothing
else to do, Willow rested her head against his chest.
After a bout of mental debate, she threaded her arm
around his waist as well. It didn't take long for her
body to numb back into unconsciousness, and she fell
asleep once again, lost in daydreams of moonlit
beaches and salty sea air.
Part 2 - California Girls
But an hour to go till sunrise, and the group was
already on their rented boat heading toward Devil's
Island. Xander was at the helm, somehow able to drive
a boat decidedly better than he could a car. Anya was
with Giles, digging in one of the two coolers of food,
both of the human and vampire variety, searching for
something to hold her over until they were on the
island and able to use the grill to make breakfast.
Giles sipped his iced tea and looked on with a muddled
brow at the former demon's policy of see, dislike,
throw with the food. Spike had occupied himself with
chain smoking, which he referred to as "making up for
lost nicotine." Willow had her chin propped up on one
of the railings, aimlessly watching the water flow by.
Buffy was gently rubbing Riley's back. Riley was
heaving his airplane meal over the side of the boat.
He groaned.
"Did I mention yet that I hate boats?"
"Landlubbers. No iron stomach," Spike snickered.
Buffy glared at him and narrowed her eyes.
"Anya, did you finally get those used condoms that you
and Xander had needed on that camping trip out of the
cooler we're using for Spike's blood?" she called to
the brunette, her tone sarcastic and mocking. But the
false words were enough to get the reaction she'd
wanted, and within seconds, Spike had flown to the
nearest spot of railing--which just happened to be
right next to Willow--immediately hurling his own
midnight snack into the water. The Slayer snickered
and went back to comforting her boyfriend.
"Sod off!" Spike yelled between heaves.
"Buffy, c'mon, that was kind of... mean," Willow
looked pleadingly at her best friend, who shrugged
indifferently.
"Like he doesn't deserve it."
The Witch merely sighed and patted the blond vampire
lightly on the back.
"Half an hour at sea and I can already say that this
has been the most thoroughly disgusting holiday of my
life," Giles muttered under his breath.
*
"Wow," Willow gasped as she took in the sight of the
partially abandoned resort. The hotel itself wasn't
all that big--there weren't all that many Watcher's
running around the world--but it was luxurious and
lavishly decorated; the silver spoon of all five-star
hotels. Fountains were placed generously in the many
courtyards and gardens that seemed to form a labyrinth
around the establishment. Everything was done in a
beautiful tropical theme, with peachy, pearled marble
adorning the place, making it seem as though it were a
fortress for royalty.
The group made their way past a bird of paradise
garden, all glancing upward at the hazy blue sky at
the sound of parrots squawking.
"Hate to put a damper on this little... gaping
extravaganza, but I've got a date with a bed.
Indoors," Spike nodded towards the main building.
"O-oh, yes, of course," Giles stuttered. "How about
we all go and see if the inside of this island is as
impressive as its exterior?"
There was a mutual agreement, and the Gang--plus
Spike--all shuffled inside, gapes of awe seemingly
perminantly plastered to their faces as they entered
the equally impressive lobby.
"Now, if, ah, if I remember correctly, the rooms are
all upstairs. To our right would be the dining hall,
straight is the elevator, and that corner door over
there should be the emergency stairwell." Giles
gestured as he spoke.
They all took a moment to drink in the sights, then
Spike broke the silence with the click of his booted
heels on the tiled floor as he stalked towards the
elevator.
"Plenty of time to gawk at things later..." he
grumbled. "Which floor, Watcher?"
"Um... the th-third should be suitable."
Spike pressed down on the button for the third floor,
Willow scurrying in just as the doors were about to
close.
"Want to pick my room out," she explained with a
smile. Spike nodded. She was a sweet little chit,
even after all he'd nearly done to her. Would've made
quite the vicious vampire, had it not been for that
damnable chip.
"So, how what do you think this week'll be like?" she
asked, curious.
"Freedom," he stated simply.
"Hear, hear!" Willow giggled.
"Wonder if they have a bar..."
"Bar?"
"Yeah. Y'know, alcoholic beverages in abundance."
Willow crinkled her nose in annoyance. "I know what a
bar is, Spike."
"Just makin' sure, pet. Not that you've led a
sheltered life or anything. I don't suppose."
"Darn right I haven't."
Spike arched a brow, an idea suddenly coming to him.
"All right, then. Prove it. Have a drink or four
with me?" he offered. Or rather, challenged.
Willow stuttered, "O-oh, I couldn't. Buffy would..."
She furrowed her brow in thought. "Buffy could... not
know."
"There's my brave Witch."
"*You're* brave Witch?"
He shrugged, and the elevator dinged, sounding that
they had arrived on their floor. Spike hauled his
duffle bag over his shoulder and started down the
hall, Willow following behind him. He waltzed with an
easy grace down to the last door on the right and
opened it with a flick of his wrist. Surveying the
room briefly, he decided that it would more than do
and stepped inside. The Witch watched him for a
moment before choosing the room opposite his on the
left.
Green eyes widened considerably. It was... huge. A
king-sized bed, a mirror wider than she was long, two
dressers, a walk-in closet, her own bathroom! Willow
could barely contain a squeal of joy as she dropped
her stuff and leapt onto the bed, jumping on it as if
she were a five-year-old child. So caught up in her
play that she didn't even notice the vampire standing
in the threshold of her doorway, a smirk of amusement
gracing over his handsome features.
"Fancy it, pet?" he called to her, causing her to yelp
with surprise and hop hurried off the bed, a blush
creeping up on her pale skin.
"It'll do," she grinned. Her brows knitted together
when he didn't move. "Problem?"
He shrugged. "Figures that the bloody radio won't
pick up anything besides soppy island music. I heard
the Slayer say you packed the stereo. Got anything
good?"
"Sure, come in."
He did, and she commenced in rummaging through her
bag, eventually pulling out a fairly good-sized black
boom box and a large cd book that held both her,
Buffy's, and even Xander's music. Spike sat on the
edge of her bed and flipped through it, grimacing at
some of the selections, arching an impressed brow at
others.
"David Lee Roth, pet?" he questioned.
"It's Xander's. Wanna hear it?"
He sighed. "Oh, why not?"
Willow plugged in the stereo and slid the cd out of
its place in the book and into the player. She hit
the play button started bobbing her head slightly as
the beachy melodies slipped through the air.
~Well east coast girls are hip, I really dig those
styles they wear
And the southern girls with the way they talk, they
knock me out when I'm down there
The midwest farmers' daughters, really make you feel
all right
And the northern girls with the way they kiss, they
keep their boyfriends warm at night
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls~
He watched her, smiling, as she swayed to the music,
rotating her hips in a delightfully cute, Beach
Boys-esque dance.
~The west coast has the sunshine and the girls all get
so tanned
I dig a French bikini on Hawaiian island dolls, by a
palm tree in the sand
I've been all around this great big world, and I've
seen all kinds of girls
But I couldn't wait to get back to the states, back to
the cutest girls in the world~
"Xander's, is it?"
"Well... we share," she grinned sheepishly. "And
besides, it's fitting, huh?"
He smirked. "Quite."
~I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls~
Part 3 - Milk
Angelus groaned. The sheer freedom of this; the
power... it was nearly orgasmic. After terrorizing
that little actress for a while, reveling in his
re-found ability to invoke fear upon others, the dark
vampire had allowed her to escape to the elevator
while he went rummaging around in her apartment. His
eyes fell to rest on her remaining glass. The drink.
Of course. She had slipped something in it. But that
meant... his soul was only dormant. This was
temporary.
"Not for long," he mused, whistling to himself as he
began to sort through and ransack the place, searching
for whatever drug she had given him. He would stay
free this time.
He found the bottle of pills stashed in her purse.
"Doximal... how delightful..." he grinned
sadistically, grabbing his leather jacket and slipping
the bottle into one of the inside pockets.
"Now, where oh where have my favorite enemies gone..."
he mumbled to himself, wracking his brain for clues.
Giles had called a few days prior, something about a
vacation... Hawaii... Devil's Island. How utterly
perfect.
"But first, a bite to eat." Angelus stalked out of
the room and headed downstairs to the dark streets
below.
*
"Spike sleeping?" Giles asked as he caught sight of
Willow stepping out of the elevator. The redhead
nodded and Giles resumed reading his book, stretched
out on one of the large velvet couches in the lobby.
"Hey, G-Man," Xander called as he strolled leisurely
through the room, "there any food in this place?"
"The kitchen is always kept well-stocked. And don't
call me that."
"Yeah, yeah..." the boy mumbled as he veered to the
right. Anya had requested strawberries, which Xander
complied to getting. After all, the reward would be
more than worth a trip downstairs. Even if it did
mean that they would be spending most of their
vacation inside.
"Um... Giles?"
The former librarian looked up at his blonde protege,
who had come in through the front, her small hand
laced with one of Riley's large ones.
"What is it, Buffy?"
"Dark clouds in the tropics--are they just
teaser-clouds like in California?"
"Pardon?"
"Well see, it's getting sort of grey outside, and
whenever it does that back in Sunnydale, it's either
apocalyptic or it's just pretend-rain."
Giles' brows furrowed together, and he stood to go
glance out a large window. Sure enough, the clouds
were rolling steadily in, casting the island in
shadow.
He sighed. "A little rain never hurt anyone. It'll
clear up soon, most likely."
Willow looked worried. "I'll go check the radio for
weather reports," she said, taking off once again in
search of the wave radio that she knew all islands had
in case of emergencies. But where would it be...
The Witch roamed around, stumbling across many rooms
that she made mental notes of to make good use of
later on. She passed by a fully equipt gym, two quite
large pools, a spa, a sauna, and--presto--a bar. She
grinned proudly to herself, running a slim finger
along the smooth wood of the counter, upside-down
barstools resting atop the rich, glossy mahogany.
Countless varieties of alcohol lined the shelves in
the back, as well as the ones underneath the
countertop. Two pool tables rested on either side of
the room, exquisite in quality, sitting below
duplicate, low-hanging chandeliers. A dart board hung
on the wall to her left, right above and to the right
of the object of her quest; the wave-radio.
Boots thumping lightly on the floor, she made her way
over to the device and clicked it on. A buzz of
static assaulted her ears, and she shifted the
stations until she found one that came in semi-clear.
#And in the weather reports: Tropical storm Catherine
is creeping up fast, so batten down those hatches and
get ready, because she's picking up speed. At the
last report, she was due north of Devil's Island, and
heading south with a vengeance. Good thing that place
is uninhabited--#
Willow turned the radio off, swearing under her
breath. She began to jog lightly back the way she
came.
"Giles...!"
*
"Well, so much for fun in the sun," Riley sighed,
slathering a dollop of mayonnaise onto the two slices
of bread laid out for his sandwich.
"We should have at least tonight before the storm hits
us. Should we go back to the mainland, maybe?" Willow
offered, looking expectantly at her mentor. Giles
looked thoughtful.
"Wouldn't make much difference. The storm would
eventually work its way down anyway. Where was the
radio, in case we need call for assistance?"
"In the bar, down the hall leading from the dining
room."
"Bar?" Buffy perked up. Giles gave her a withering
glance.
"Buffy, honestly, the last thing we need is to be--"
"Aw, c'mon, Giles. What could possibly happen?
There's nowhere to drive, no one feeling depressed or
suicidal--"
"Yet," the Sorcerer muttered under his breath, but no
one took notice.
"--and it could be a sort of bonding experience."
Willow stopped the smile that threatened to take
control of her face. She never expected her best
friend to actually consider a night of drunken bliss.
Hell, she thought the blonde would be raving in
protest. The Witch made a mental note to tell Spike
of the newest forthcoming.
"Fine," the older man sighed, tempting visions of
scotch and cognac floating through his head.
Buffy clapped her hands excitedly. "Great!"
Riley grinned at his giddy girlfriend, and Anya looked
nearly relieved to finally be able to drink again.
Stupid bartenders and their legal drinking ages...
"Until then, who's up for exploring? Xander asked, his
eyebrows raised. "I'd like to see this place before
it gets drenched."
Anya gave in, as did the commando and Buffy. Giles
returned to his book, and Willow went upstairs to tell
Spike. She wondered if he was morning person...
*
Spike's brows knitted together in his sleep, his brain
barely registering that he was being poked. By
something warm. That smelled of... fruit punch?
He swatted at the thing, eliciting a yelp from the
poker. Spike opened one blue eye and glared blankly
at the room, squinting against the light that stabbed
white-hot at his retina. A groan could be heard from
the floor. Grumbling and yawning, the blond vampire
sat up in bed to look down at a scowling redhead who
was holding her now-bruised rib.
"Willow?" he asked groggily.
"No, it's the queen of England," she muttered
sarcastically. "Y'know, it might help if you actually
looked at who you were fwapping before you did it."
"Sorry, love. Vampire and all that. Don't know my
own strength sometimes--how is this my fault? What
the hell are you wakin' me up for? I was in the
middle of a nice dream..." he mumbled, deciding not to
mention the flashes of red that were in said dream.
"Well," Willow started, allowing him to haul her up
next to him on the bed. "I was gonna tell you that I
found the bar. And that we're gonna do the whole
group-drinking thing."
"And this couldn't have waited until *after* I'd woken
up?"
The Witch paused, opened her mouth to speak, closed
it, then opened it again.
"...You sleep too much anyway."
Spike let out a long, exasperated sigh.
"All right, I'm up now." He stretched his arms above
his head, and Willow then realized that he slept
without a shirt. Possibly without anything at all.
She blushed, averting her eyes. "Why so pink?" he
asked.
"U-um... it's nothing. Do you wanna get dressed?
There are pool tables in the bar, and until the others
come back, maybe we could, y'know, play."
"I'm not sure if pool is exactly what I want to be
playing, love, when it concerns you." He waggled his
eyebrows, grinning suggestively. Willow rolled her
eyes.
"Oh, please." She rose from the bed and occupied
herself with the cd player. Anything to avoid his
piercing gaze. Randomly, she chose a cd and shoved it
in the player, stealing a glance over her shoulder
just as Spike threw the covers off of his lean body,
revealing to her that his slept in his boxers. His
red silk boxers. Shaking her head quickly to rid
herself of the image and its accompanying thoughts,
she pressed play and held her hands clutched on either
side of the boom box.
Inwardly, she kicked herself as Garbage began to sound
through the speakers. The very same Garbage with the
slow, seductive rhythms and pounding beats. The same
Garbage with the lyrics that were making her heart
race as she felt his gaze bore into the back of her
skull.
*I am lost
And I am cruel
But I'd be love and sweetness
If I had you
I'm waiting, I'm waiting for you
I'm waiting, I'm waiting for you
I am weak
But I am strong
I can use my tears to
Bring you home
I'm waiting, I'm waiting for you
I'm waiting, I'm waiting for--*
Willow pushed the stop button quickly and turned
toward Spike, who was now clad in dark blue jeans.
"Y'know what? I'm just gonna go downstairs and wait,
okay?"
Before he could utter a word of protest, she had
already hastily left the room. Spike blinked at the
place where she had stood just seconds ago shook his
head, shrugging on a black poet shirt.
*
Angelus gazed hungrily around the airport terminal as
he awaited his flight. Indoor halls and underground
parking structures certainly did come in handy at such
UV-ridden times. He chose his prey, following the
young man into the restroom. A snack before the
flight and he was good to go.
A solitary thought echoed through his mind as he
seized and drained the homeward-bound Army officer.
Soon.
Part 4 - Umbrella
Spike half-walked, half-jogged down the open hall that
led from the dining room to the bar. Indirect
sunlight or not, he just didn't feel comfortable
walking around near windows during the daytime. He
reached his destination quickly, finding Willow
already there, squeaking some blue chalk onto a pool
cue.
"Hey," she greeted him, a small smile forming on her
lips. Spike gave her a lopsided grin and began taking
inventory of the bar while she busied herself with
setting up the balls in the small, wooden triangle.
"You play well, pet?" he asked, his voice muffled by
the fact that he was behind the bar, digging through
the cabinets below the countertop.
"I play okay," she conceded. The redhead smiled as a
blond head popped up from between two upside-down
barstools. It was soon followed by a lean torso and a
pair of legs, but she kept her gaze fixated on the
handsome face.
"Just okay? Pity. I was hoping for a spot of
competition..." he looked sidelong at her, lips in a
mock-pout.
"You don't think I could take you?" she asked,
eyebrows raised. They slanted as he stepped closer.
"You can take me anytime, love," he murmured, his
voice low and husky. He didn't expect wounded pride
from the reaction she gave him, which was to burst
into a fit of giggles.
"Aw, come on! That was one of my best lines," he
proclaimed indignantly. Willow lowered her eyes,
still giggling a bit and shaking her head.
"Spike?"
"Yes?"
"Just break."
"Right, then."
He moved over to the end of the pool table and picked
up a long cue. As he leaned over to take his shot, he
heard her voice echo around him.
"Ooh, a jukebox..." the Witch murmured, making her way
over to the old-fashioned player. "Y'know," she
distracted him, "they've actually got some pretty good
songs on here... guess not all the Watcher's are old
farts..."
Spike tried to stifle a snicker as he watched the
redhead skim through the list of discs. She stopped
in the middle and had obviously picked her choice
song. After pressing a few buttons, the movements
inside the machine clicked mechanically, and Dog's Eye
View played quietly in the background, interrupted
only by the sharp sound of pool balls being knocked
and scattered.
~Did you like the flowers I sent
You could've called to thank me
Well, you could've called
And I tried to kiss you, on Brooklyn Avenue
But you got in your car, before I could move
And I've been fallin' like the rain
You've got your umbrella in my way~
He moved to take his second shot, hip-bumping her out
of the way, smiling as she let out a squeal of
surprise and mock-protest. He leaned in again, but
his shot was faltered as her small palm connected with
his rear, echoing with a loud smack.
"Hey! Watch it, Red!"
"Serves you right," she grinned cheekily. "Now I do
believe it's my turn."
~Fists and fingers, tongues and teeth
I wanna see you, I'm tired of my dreams
Nights of wishing I could open my mouth
But when I finally did speak, you were nowhere to be
found
I've been fallin' like the rain
You've got your umbrella in my way
I had the sun in my hands, I had the sun in my hands
'Til you said you liked the rain
Well I, I had in all in my hands, I had it all, but I
Gave it all away~
Willow bent to take her shot, aiming carefully. Just
as the cue connected with the ball of choice, she
shrieked, startled, and jumped at least three inches
in the air as Spike grabbed her sides and began
tickling her fiercely.
"Spike! Stop it!" she gasped out between struggles
and laughter.
"Now, now, Willow. Payback's a bitch, isn't she?" he
chuckled, continuing his gentle assault on her body.
She squirmed against him and tried to pull away, only
to have him catch her by the wrist and yank her back.
She batted at his chest, but only succeeded in him
grabbing her hands and pulling her close. She stopped
struggling.
~Did I scare you off, by bein' honest
How come we never see the end 'til it's right there
upon us
If you want, I can go away
But like the rain, I'll come again some other day
Now I've been fallin' like the rain
But you've got your umbrella in my way again~
Both were breathing erratically, Spike out of habit
and Willow out of her exertions. Emerald eyes locked
onto sapphire blue.
Spike thought about how warm she was, pressed up
against him. He could feel her heartbeat through her
hands, thumping quickly through her skin.
Willow wondered when the moment was that he became
more than a demon. He had so many levels that had
been gradually revealed to her. To only her.
He lowered his face as she rose up on her toes. They
were but centimeters away from one another, breaths
mingling, eyes beginning to close.
She smelled wonderful to him, something between fruit
and freesia, delectably spellbinding. He watched the
light glint off of the gleaming ruby highlights in her
hair, watched it pour over her creamy skin like gold
dust.
He smelled so good. Like... cloves, almost. Spicey
and fresh and just... nice. She noticed then the
delicate shadows of his perfectly sculpted cheekbones,
and the glowing contrast between his pale skin and the
black shirt he wore. He wasn't even all that cold;
warmed from her own body.
They were so close, barely moving, both hesitant and
cautious of what would be sure to follow.
~One of these days I'm gonna show up in the sunshine
And be a little sunshower
Fall upon you, make you rise up like a flower
And you can be my little daisy
Be my little daisy~
"Hey, Willow, have you seen..." Anya trailed off as
she entered the bar. "Oh! Sorry! Go ahead, do
your... thing. I'll ask later." The ex-demon quickly
left the room, but it was too late. The couple had
pulled apart, both fidgeting in an awkward silence.
"I thought they'd gone exploring..." Spike muttered,
rubbing the back of his neck and fighting the urge to
go tearing after the chit in annoyance and
frustration.
"So did I..." Willow mumbled, curling her toes and
occupying herself with the 8-ball. God, what had she
been thinking? She ignored her brain's whisper of
"not much."
"So..."
"I think... I think I should go. Meet up. With
Buffy. Somewhere... elsewhere..."
Alone once again, Spike swore under his breath.
"Bloody hell..."
*
"Mama... just killed a man... put a gun against his
head, pulled my trigger now he's dead..." Angelus
warbled as he steered the small boat from beneath the
safety of a thick blanket. Not the most dignified
entrance, but certainly the most sneaky and
unexpected.
"Ah, unlife is good," he exclaimed to himself before
giving in to a fit of maniacal laughter, then belched
in the aftermath of the boatman who'd been so kind to
join him for lunch. Everything was already
meticulously planned. He'd studied what they
hadn't--that the island had a winding maze of
underground caverns in which he could wait out the day
that would also give him access to the many areas of
the island. But he wouldn't reveal himself yet, oh
no. Tonight would be spent cloaked in shadow,
searching and snooping and getting everything
prepared. But tomorrow would bring action.
Preferably of the deadly, blood-loss kind.
Angelus sniggered to himself once again. This was all
going to go far too well...
Part 5 - Porcelain
"Spike! Got any vodka over there?" Giles called to
the fair-skinned vampire at the other end of the bar.
"Yeah, 's here!" Spike yelled back as he stocked up on
various liquors. Vodka, brandy, whiskey, the Watcher
had the scotch, cognac, and the tequila. "You get the
oranges?"
"No, not yet--Willow, if you would? And some salt as
well, please."
The redhead nodded and headed for the kitchen, silence
still her native tongue after her and Spike's previous
confrontation. The others had opted to get the most
out of the beach before the storm hit, so it was
decided that a booze and bonfire celebration was in
order, complete with music, natch.
Spike glanced up to watch her leave, still reveling in
his "I fucked up big time state of mind." But it
didn't change the fact that he was determined to have
her. Human or not, getting what he wanted wasn't very
poof-ish at all.
Anya, thankfully, had kept her big mouth shut about
what she'd seen. Or rather, what she hadn't. Spike
wondered why the Slayer didn't just kill her instead
of making idle threats at him. After all, she'd been
evil once. And a demon, on top of that. Much more
disgusting in their true forms than vampires were.
He sighed. It just wasn't turning out to be his
holly-jolly holiday with Mary bleedin' Poppins.
*
Angelus whistled quietly to himself as he tied the
boat to a conveniently placed pointed rock. A very
dark, very dank, very large cave mouth lay before him
on the shore, which he was able to navigate in with
ease due to his vampirically-enhanced eyesight.
"Cave, sweet cave," he smiled smugly. "Daddy's
home..."
*
"Come *on,* Spike!" Buffy ordered over her shoulder as
the group made their way over the sandy dunes to the
soft shore of the beach.
"I'm comin', I'm comin'! Bleedin' Christ, woman,
you'd think this was your last meal..." he grumbled,
hauling with him four bottles of liquid ambrosia. To
a man with such tastes in alcohol as his, that is. He
had admitted before that the next best drink other
than a virgin's blood was that that came in bottles
marked in a foreign language.
"C'mon, Buff, give him a break. He's been good all
day," Willow mumbled, not wanting to sound too
challenging.
The blonde Slayer sighed.
"All right, fine."
"Thanks..."
'Wills?" she asked, turning to face her best friend.
"You okay? You seem all distant and wallflowery."
The Witch forced a smile.
"I'm fine. Just a bit jet-lagged, I guess."
Buffy nodded, accepting the answer, and stopped
walking.
"Here looks good."
Riley released two armfuls of firewood, and Giles and
Spike gingerly set down the booze.
"U-um, Xander? I would really feel a lot, a *lot*
more comfortable if someone other than yourself was
manning the lighter fluid and matches," Giles said,
calmly extracting the possibly hazardous materials
from the boy, who simply shrugged. He partially
agreed with the older man, anyway.
The commando-turned-Boy Scout set to work on making
the fire while Xander, Anya, and Willow rolled out the
blankets that they had brought with them. They
removed their shoes to hold down the edges, seeing as
the wind had already begun to pick up speed from the
impending storm.
"Spike?"
Spike jumped, startled to hear Willow speak to him for
the first time that day since the bar.
"Y-yes?" he faltered, then coughed and gathered his
masculinity. "Yeah?"
"Take off your shoes, we need them to hold down the
blankets."
Okay, so it wasn't much, but at least she was talking
to him again. The blond vampire complied, pulling off
his boots and socks and setting them near Willow's
discarded pale yellow sneakers. She turned away, and
he allowed his gaze to roam over her body. She looked
adorable; blue, green, and white vintage-print board
shorts, a pale yellow tank, even her feet were
delightful, outfitted in light cucumber-coloured
polish and a simple silver toe ring. A delicate,
pentagram-charmed silver anklet danced in the light
given off from the moon reflecting against the sea,
which also caused her skin to glow softly. Gorgeous.
He shook his head of the thoughts, knowing that if he
kept up with them that his body would respond quickly.
The last thing he needed was to be fidgeting around
her. That sodding Slayer would probably think he was
looking at her and not Willow, the daft bitch...
"Hello, earth to Deadboy Jr., come in, Deadboy Jr.?"
Xander's hand in front of his face jarred the blond
vampire out of his thoughts.
"What?" he barked.
"Pass me the tequila?"
Spike did, practically pitching it toward the source
of his annoyance. Giles retrieved some shot glasses
from a plastic bag and passed one out to everyone.
Tequila was poured 'round, and everybody took a slice
of orange and sprinkled salt on their hands.
"To tropical holidays and the escape of life," he
toasted, raising his glass. The others followed suit,
licked their hands, downed their drinks and
immediately shoved the pieces of orange into their
mouths.. Buffy and Xander both held looks of disgust
as the hot, sour liquid steamed down their chests,
Anya looked sated, Riley looked... somewhat in shock,
and both Giles and Spike looked indifferent. Willow
was the one to cough, sputtering and grimacing. Spike
was at her side in an instant, rubbing her back in a
subconscious act to sooth the Witch.
"Doin' all right, pet?"
"That was... weird. It burned."
"Tequila does tend to do that, yes."
"Maybe it'll feel better the second time around," she
shrugged, a mischevious smile playing upon her lips.
*
An hour later found them scattered and in general
chaos. Xander and Anya had gone to--what else?--have
sex behind some rocks, Buffy and Riley were nearly
there, and out in the open, no less. Giles was laying
on his back in the sand, staring up at the stars,
bottle of vodka securely clutched in his hand, while
Willow and Spike raced, staggering, down to the ocean.
The waves were pounding against the beach, roaring and
crashing without mercy. Both nearly screamed out loud
as the cold waters rushed against their ankles,
drenching Spike's jeans and Willow's calves.
"Spike! It's freezing!" she yelled over the waves.
"No backing out, love. You said you'd swim if I did,"
he grinned, wading further out into the water.
"Vampires..." Willow muttered under her breath,
cringing as the water level rose to her thighs.
"It's easier if you just dive," he called over his
shoulder before dunking under the waves into oblivion.
The redhead waited for a few minutes, then remembered
that he could stay under there for however long he
damn well please, due to the lack of a need to breath.
Cursing softly, she inhaled deeply and then plunged
in, squealing inwardly at the shock of the icy
currents. When she rose for air, she found him
standing nearby, looking decidedly smug.
"Okay, there, I swam. Going in now." She trudged
back to shore, seemingly unaware that her clothes were
dripping wet and clinging to her body like a second
skin. Spike's eyes widened, and he hastily followed
her back to the warmth of the fire.
Willow's teeth clattered together non-stop,
accompanying the shiver that just didn't seem to go
away. She hugged herself tightly and picked up a
blanket from the sand and shook it out vigorously
before wrapping it around herself.
"How was your swim?" Giles asked, barely coherent.
"Sobering."
"Ah. That's nice."
The Witch shook her head at the man, then jumped as a
pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind and
began rubbing her arms in attempt to further warm her
up.
"Should get you out of those wet clothes," Spike
whispered in her ear. Willow nodded and allowed him
to lead her back toward the hotel.
"Ow!" she cried out after but a couple steps,
immediately gripping her foot in pain.
"What's wrong, love? What happened?" Spike urged,
concern clear to hear in his voice as he gently
lowered her down to the sand.
"My foot... I stepped on something..."
He moved down to take a look, and surely enough, and
rather large chunk of glass had embedded itself into
the Witch's narrow foot. He winced in sympathetic
pain.
"Glass, pet. From one of the bottles. In there
pretty deep, too. Come on," he urged, effortlessly
picking her up and cradling her in his arms. "Let's
get you taken care of."
Willow threaded her arms around his neck, curling up
against his chest as if getting close enough would
make all the pain go away.
He set her down just outside of the main lobby, where
she stood on one foot.
"Gonna go get a towel; can't have you spilling blood
all over the place, can we? Besides, that's my job."
He flashed her a smile which she returned and swiftly
left to retrieve the cloth.
He returned a couple minutes later and gently wrapped
her foot up in the towel, then picked her up again and
took her back to her room. Once there, he laid her
down on the bed and left again momentarily to get a
clean washcloth and a bowl of warm water, which his
set on the floor in front of her.
Willow bit her lip as he unwrapped the injured
appendage. Pains mingled, stabbing and sharp and dull
and aching all at once. Spike lifted the foot up and
examined it closely.
"Okay... I need you to hold your breath and grit your
teeth, all right?"
She nodded.
"Good. On three. One... two..."
He latched onto the offending chunk and gave it a hard
tug. Willow hissed and cried out in pain, tears
streaming down her cheeks despite her efforts to fight
them. He set the glass on the bloodied towel and
carefully cleaned the wound with the warm cloth.
"Ow..."
"Sorry, love," he murmured, his voice calm and
soothing. He shifted his position on the floor. The
sweet scent of the blood combined with the dripping
state of Willow's clothing had made in impossible for
his body *not* to react this time. He swallowed hard
and concentrated on the task at hand. "You got the
first aid kit in your bag?" She nodded, and he dug
through the piles of neatly-folded clothes and
underthings until he found the small white and red
box. Extracting a roll of clean, white bandages and
antibiotic ointment, he shoved the box away and set to
dressed the wound. Once it was satisfactorily
wrapped, he planted a soft kiss over the bandages and
looked up at her. Tears still lightly stained her
face, and she was sniffling slightly.
"Thank you."
"No worries." He reached up to brush a lock of deep
coppery-red hair out of her face. "Stop that, would
you?" he chided, wiping at the tears with his thumb.
He was rewarded with a chuckle and noogie which he
didn't protest to. His hair was already unruly and in
his eyes. That is, until she brushed it away. Her
small, warm hand ran alongside of his face, the
contour of one beautifully sculpted cheekbone, down to
smooth lightly over his lower lip. She smiled a bit.
"Spike... I--" her words were cut off as he took her
face in his hands and gazed into her eyes, green
meeting blue in oceanic colour, both threatening to
drown in the other's depth. With an agonizing
slowness, he rose up to meet her face, this time not
hesitating as he pressed his lips against hers.
Her lips were so warm, and salty from the water.
Still, they tasted like honey to him, sweet, pure,
wonderful. Even more delectable when he realized that
she was kissing him back with equal fervency. She
pulled back, and he grew nervous. Though she couldn't
go very far on that foot, she could still tell him to
leave.
But instead she only looked at him through wide,
curious doe eyes, searching his face for something he
wasn't sure of. Whatever she had found seemed to
satisfy her, because she pulled him back to her and
kissed him again, opening her mouth in invitation.
Spike wasted no time in plunging his tongue inside her
warm recesses, his weight now pressing into her and
bringing them both down on the bed. They could hear
the echoes of a very loud sound system coming from
downstairs; the others must have come back in. The
techno-instrumental vibrations eased them both into a
quiet rhythm.
~In my dreams I'm dying all the time
When I wake it's kaleidoscopic mind
I never meant to hurt you
I never meant to lie
So this is goodbye
This is goodbye~
Willow rolled her hips beneath him, feeling his
erection pressed against her through his heavy, damp
jeans. Spike groaned into her mouth at the pressure
against his groin. His hands had tangled in her, and
hers in his as their tongues dueled for dominance.
The smell of both her arousal and his own permeated
the air and intoxicated his senses. He could feel her
heart racing and her hands moving lower down his body.
He nipped at her tongue as she massaged him through
his pants before struggling with the button and
zipper.
"Leave it for now..." he whispered in her ear, his
tone thick with desire. She stopped and went back to
rubbing against him, moving her hands up beneath his
shirt, grazing the lean muscles of his chest with her
nails.
~Tell me that you never wanted me
Tell me~
Spike ran his tongue down from her jawline to the
delicate area of her collarbone. He planted kiss
after kiss on the swell of her breasts, then suckled
at the flesh, nuzzling it gently. He eased her back
onto the pillows on the bed and crept his hands to the
hem of her cool, damp shirt. Without hesitation, he
peeled the offensive fabric off of her body, smiling
when he saw that she wore no bra. His mouth
immediately descended to the rosy tip of one breast,
worrying it into a hardened bud. He did the same with
the other and she moaned, running her fingers through
his blond locks. Spike licked a small trail beneath
the curve of each breast which continued down the flat
plane of her stomach. His tongue dipped into her
navel, then lower, to the tops of her shorts. With a
simple flick of his wrist, he untied the laces at the
top and slid the shorts down her perfect porcelain
legs, keeping careful of the injured foot. He placed
a kiss on the bandages again, and then higher, on her
ankle, and higher still, working his way up to the
crease between her inner thigh and most intimate areas
lied.
He parted her delicate feminine folds and ran his
tongue over the heated flesh, savoring the taste of
her. Willow closed her eyes and rolled her head back
at the sensations, her breath coming to her in
shuddering gasps. She moaned and bucked against him
as he suckled her clit, swirling his tongue in
torturous patterns. His hands ran over her sides, up
to cup her aching breasts and then down again to the
small of her stomach. He listened to her whisper his
name, and noticed that she was shivering slightly.
She whimpered as he moved away and looked up at him
questioningly, her eyes slitted with lust.
"Get under the covers, love," he told her, and she
did, all the while watching him as he undressed. She
inhaled appreciatively at the sight of the chest she
could now touch and explore, that was essentially hers
now. She watched the firm, lean muscles slide beneath
his pale skin invitingly as he bent to remove his
jeans and boxers, freeing his pulsing erection from
the uncomfortable confines of the stiff fabric.
Spike slid beneath the covers with an easy grace and
positioned himself on top of her. He wondered how
long he could remain in limbo; wanting the need to
never end and wanting to shag her senseless all at the
same time. He kissed her hard and passionate as he
entered her, shuddering at her warmth, how wet and
tight she was around him. His unneeded breath was now
shakey and ragged as he pulled back to look into her
eyes. They closed softly and she bit her lip, pushing
against his body. His lips descended to the sensitive
pulse points on her neck, nibbling at each one,
marking her as his and his alone as he began to thrust
gently into her, the pumps of his hips painstakingly
slow to him. Concentrating on his control and
Willow's pleasure, he peppered her breasts with soft
kisses and licked and nipped at their straining peaks.
He felt her fingers slide over his torso, along his
sides, scratching her nails against his skin. He
shuddered in response, goosebumps rising on his flesh.
She wrapped her legs tightly around his body and
pulled him deeper inside of her, both moaning with
pleasure. Willow ground against him with every
thrust, rubbing her clit against his stomach. She dug
into his back with her nails, nearly threatening to
claw off a good portion of his skin.
He knew she was almost there, just a few more thrusts
and he could give in to his release. His cock was
throbbing so badly it was bordering on painful, and
the way she would clench her muscles around him did
nothing to alleviate the steadily building pressure.
Suddenly he felt her spasm around him, a gasp of his
name escaping her lips as she arched into him with her
orgasm, her nails digging into his back, slicing tiny
cuts that seeped crimson. Spike continued to thrust
into her, letting her ride out the last waves of
pleasure. The small aftershocks of her climax
twitched around him.
"Fuck, love... you're killin' me..." he gritted out
the words just seconds before pounding out his
release, his body engulfed in trembles as he let go
and collapsed on her in a state of bliss, murmuring
her name over and over again.
Both breathed heavily between exchanging hungry
kisses, finally spent from the night's actions. Spike
reluctantly pulled out of her and moved to cradle her
body against his. His magnificent--and warm--Witch
was truly his now. He relaxed against her and began
following her into slumber, when an uneasy feeling
crept over him Something wasn't right. This feeling
was... familiar... deadly. Frightening.
~In my dreams I'm jealous all the time
As I wake I'm going out of my mind
Going out of my mind~
He looked down at Willow, safe and asleep in his arms,
and shook off the feeling. He was just being
paranoid. Just residue from times long past.
Sighing, he curled up closer to the redhead and willed
himself to sleep.
*
Angelus watched intently from his place in a nearby
tree as his childe and the little Witch-bitch who'd
given him his soul back fucked like bunnies. This
would come in as quite the advantage.
A sinister grin loomed over his face as he watched
Spike glance nervously around the room. He could feel
him still, even after all they'd been through. How
fucking adorable. Angelus could feel one hell of a
headache coming on. He popped one of the pills in his
mouth and climbed slowly down the tree, so as not to
make any noise. Tomorrow, his time would be at hand.
All across the tiny island, the rain began to pour.
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