Pairing: Willow/Spike
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: I own nothing and seek no profit from this story. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Takes place about 24 hours after Something Blue. Spike can still taste the Slayer in his mouth and does not like it at all.
Distribution: Emerald Illusions, NHA, WLS, Soulmates, SoG, SuFic, SnW, Willow_Vampires, and anywhere else I personally post it. All others, please ask first.
Feedback: Yes, please. It makes me happy. :)
Author's Notes: This fic is the result of me trying to coax my muse back into writing fanfic. It's not much, (it's rather simple, really), but I like it. As to why Giles is letting Spike "roam free" without a fuss: just bloody go with it. It's fic, not Physics. To those of you patiently waiting for me to update my works in progress ... thank you. I've not forgotten about them, I promise. I never will.
Thanks you to Gabrielle and Femail for the beta.
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Spike had no idea what in the hell Angel had found so appealing about Buffy. One night -- hell, it hadn't even been a whole night. Possibly half a night, he was not sure. At any rate, a handful of kisses from the daft bint and he was left with the almost undeniable urge to set his mouth on fire in effort to rid himself of her taste. A Slayer's blood was a wonderful aphrodisiac; he remembered that much very well. A Slayer's kisses, on the other hand? Not at all. The whole experience confirmed a long-held theory in Spike's mind: gaining a soul had left his grand-sire insane, because a vampire would have to be completely nutters to enjoy kissing <i>that</i>.
Or under a demented love spell.
Spike's eyes narrowed slightly as the witch finally emerged from Giles' flat. It had been 24 hours since the spell fiasco, and he assumed the bloody white hats had finally deemed the witch safe for the general public. It was about time, too. He had been waiting since sundown. Since he finally annoyed them all enough to get them to let him out of that damn chair. Giles was doing that more and more at night now. Spike guessed he had finally realized the vampire really couldn't hurt anything human, anything at all, and decided to feel sorry for him. Spike hated it. Hated them all. Damn white hats. Do-gooders who thought they were above being nice to him. What'd he ever done to them 'sides try to kill 'em a couple of times? Didn't he help them stop Angelus from ending the world that time? Didn't that earn him something in their book? Apparently not. Bunch of buggers, they were.
Spike forced his thoughts to quiet as he watched Willow walk away from Giles' door. He had intended to have words with her, that's why he was waiting. His demon, of course, had wanted to bathe in her blood, in all of their blood, for the humiliation he'd been put through, but the bit of plastic in his brain would not allow that. He scowled, being easily distracted from his goal. Why was Willow out here alone? Where was the Slayer? Didn't she care that the witch was about to walk through Sunnydale alone at night?
"Slayer not walking you home, Red?" he asked, stepping out of the shadows.
She hesitated, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. "Spike! Um, hey. I didn't expect to see you out here still. Why are you still here? Are you ... um, are you mad?"
He blinked once. She had automatically assumed he was mad. It was a good question, though. Was he mad? Spike was not sure. Did he wish to forget the entire bloody incident? Of course, he did. That spell would have made any minion vamp want to stake himself. Did he wish he could wipe Buffy's nasty, Slayer-laden taste from his mouth? Very much so. Was he <b>mad</b>? Now that was something to think about. His demon was irritated, but more at the lot of them for allowing it to happen, rather than the actual event, but irritated was a long way from pissed off. Irritated was worth death. Pissed off was a massacre.
"Asked you a question," he said finally, shifting the conversation back to her and away from him.
"Oh," she looked surprised, like she didn't remember. "You did? Um ... oh! No, Buffy isn't going to walk me home. She fell asleep on the couch during the last movie we watched. Xander crashed on the floor, and Giles kinda went to bed about an hour ago."
Spike decided to let the subject drop instead of asking how a person could 'kinda' go to bed. He would never understand the way this particular group of Southern Californians talked, but it was truly like they had stumbled out of a really bad TV show sometimes. Looking at Willow, he said, "Well, let's go, then."
"You're going to walk me home? To the dorm?"
He rolled his eyes. "I won't be getting blamed for it when some sort of demon grabs you and eats you up, when I was here to see you home. Even if it is to the bloody campus of doom. Just got a bit of freedom back, and I don't want to be losing it. Let's go."
She didn't argue any more. She fell into quiet step beside him, and Spike glanced over at her. Red's expression was sad, he noticed, not that he blamed her. He understood. Hell, he thought it right. She <i>had</i> caused a lot of mayhem. Not quite the amount of damage the rest of the white hats had led her to believe, but still ... he'd had to kiss the bloody Slayer. Willow deserved a bit of guilt for that. But ... she looked incredibly forlorn. More so than Spike thought fitting. He closed his eyes, wishing to all hell that he didn't understand that it wasn't just the guilt she felt that made her eyes so sad. That it wasn't only the fact that her friends were mad at her that had the witch down in the dumps. No, Spike knew it was much more than that, even if no one else seemed to notice anymore. He lit a cigarette. "I know what it's like, you know. Having 'em cheat and leave all sudden-like."
Spike did not know why he said it, but he wasn't surprised when she stopped walking and turned to stare at him. He looked her in the eye. "It hurts. All the time, it hurts. It's like a part of you that you let get all wrapped around your insides has suddenly been ripped out, and you're left broken and bleeding in the street."
"Yeah," she said softly after a minute. "Yeah."
They did not say anything else, and simply started walking again. They were about three blocks from the campus when Willow broke their slightly comfortable silence. "I'm really sorry, Spike. You know, about what happened. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just ... I just wanted it to stop."
"Hell, Red." He stopped walking and grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop, to look at him. "I know that. Every one of them should, and would, if they'd get their damn heads out of their self-involved asses, and you should not have had to make those cookies to prove it to anyone. You're hurting, is all."
"I was stupid."
Spike had to concede that point. Thing was, he understood. "Yeah. But, everyone gets stupid when they're in pain, luv. Everyone."
"Really?" She sounded so hopeful.
"You know it's true, Willow," he said, using her name instead of a nickname to get the seriousness of his point across. "You've got to."
She nodded, slowly. "Maybe."
Spike rolled his eyes, and they began to walk once more, but this time the silence didn't last very long. "Spike?"
"What?"
"Was it really horrible? Kissing Buffy? 'Cause you really seemed to not like it, um, after I broke the spell and all."
"Yeah, it was horrible. It went against my nature, who I am," he told her. "Demons like me don't need to be messin' around with Slayers like that. And *my* demon is still right brassed off that he can still taste her."
Willow frowned. "But it's been-"
"Vampire here, pet," he pointed out. "Things stick with us longer than most."
"Oh." They were outside her building then. "Um, well, thanks for walking me home."
Spike felt the beginnings of an idea forming in the back of his mind and smiled at her. "Welcome."
Willow glanced at him in surprise. "You really didn't mind?"
"Don't see no soldier boys, and the company's not bad."
She blinked. "You like my company?"
He took a step closer to her. "Now, Red. Didn't we go over this that night in your room? I don't mind your company at all."
"Oh."
He licked his lips, the idea completely formed in his mind now. "Walk you to your door?"
She blinked again. He enjoyed the fact that he could make her do that so often, and wondered how much <i>more</i> often he could shock her, even if it was slightly. "Um ... sure," she said after a moment.
It wasn't until they were standing outside of her dormroom that he made his move. Spike felt his demon's prodding, telling him to hurry things along, and knew that part of the urging was not just because of the remaining Slayer aftertaste. His demon wanted to taste the witch, had for a very long time, and this was one way to do that. Spike just wasn't sure how she would react. Best not to give her much choice in the matter, he decided.
"Red?"
"Yeah, Spike?"
"I need ... Slayer's taste ... I'm going to kiss you now."
He did not give her a chance to respond. His lips settled over hers quickly, firmly, and he felt her, tense and scared, against him. His arms went around her, pulling her flush against his body and he moved his hands over her back gently, hoping to soothe her. Spike's tongue slipped out to tease her bottom lip, and he crowed internally when he felt her slowly begin to give into the kiss, to relax.
The moment Willow let go, the moment she began to kiss him back, Spike knew he wouldn't have to worry about the Slayer's taste bothering him anymore. And, if his demon had anything to say about it, he would not be ridding himself of this new taste anytime soon. Willow was much, much sweeter than he had ever dreamed. Much more ... fiery. He would be damned if he would let her go without a fight.
And she would just have to get used to that idea.
The End.