Fixated: Don't you dare
 

    I'm cold. I'm in the process of waking up, my mind is still foggy, but I know for sure that I'm cold.

    I reach for my blanket, but it's not there. I think I'm naked. I'm lying on a rough, hard surface. I guess I'm not in my bedroom then. My lying naked somewhere else than my room gives me the right to panic. So that's what I do.

    I sit up, opening my eyes and covering my body with my hands, trying frantically to regain some sort of modesty. As my eyes wander over my surroundings, everything comes back to me. Spike naked. Me naked. Doing what two naked people usually do. More roughly than most people, though.

    Oh, boy.

    And there he is. Sprawled on the couch in his boxers, watching some stupid goddamn soap! I can't believe this guy - vampire. And I can't believe myself. How could I sleep with him? How could I let him do all this stuff to me? How could I do all this stuff to him - especially the way we did it, savagely and desperately and feverishly, as if nothing else mattered anymore but the pain and the rage and the pleasure and all the feelings mixed up and focused on what we did to each other...

    Well, how about that: could it have been because of the whole obsession with his sweet lips and breath-taking eyes and amazing body? Because no man had made love to me for so long and I needed to take whatever he could offer me? Because I needed someone to make me forget Tara?

    Who am I kidding? I'm falling in love with that stupid vampire and we both know it.

    And he's watching television, not cary one tiny bit about me. So I get slowly up from the corner of the crypt where I am crouched and look around for my clothes. I will not let him enjoy my pathetic state of mind. I gather them quickly and he finally notices me.

"Up at last?"

    I know he's looking at me, I can feel his eyes on my body. But I can hear the TV and it's a commercial break right now, so really, why shouldn't I just ignore him? I put my panties on, then my pants. But both my bra and tank top are torn, and I can't really wear just my jacket.

"Gimme something to wear," I demand without even glancing at him. I think I'm doing quite a good job at not showing my feelings.

    I can hear the couch grate and that means he's got up. I can't believe he'd actually obey me.  But just as that thought crosses my mind, his hand seizes my arm and he spins me so that I can face him. A lazy grin is spread on his lips and I can't help but stare at them. They look so... tempting.

"But I love it when you aren't wearing anything, pet."

    That last word was definitely too much. The straw that broke the camel's back or whatever. I start yelling. "I am not your damned pet, Spike! And I have a name and it's Willow! Not Red, not pet, luv, or anything else! And I don't know why I hoped this was more to you than another stupid way to spend your time! I don't know why I thought I wouldn't just be another Harmony! I don't know how I could have imagined that this actually meant something to you! I don't know why I was so stupid, but I do want to know why you did it!"

    He looks genuinely baffled and I have to stop yelling because I need to breathe, but otherwise I'd have also told him how much of a moron he was, because really, even if I didn't stake him, how could he think Giles wouldn't?

"We just shagged."

"Well fuck that!" I can't believe I'm the one shouting all this. "I didn't want 'just a shag' and you knew it! We both knew it, and you screwed up, mister gorgeous-undead-creature! And you might as well become mister dusted-gorgeous-undead-creature because of that!"

    I look at his eyes, but they don't reflect much. Maybe the beginning of comprehension, but that can just be my imagination playing with my mind. I expect him to protest heartily, apologise, beg for mercy, but he probably knows I wouldn't do it, because what he says next enrages me even more.

"Told ya it wasn't gonna be easy."

    He shrugs and lets me go, and that's when I realise he was holding me during that whole shouting session. He turns away and crosses the crypt to a heap of clothes. He throws his red shirt at me. I look at it in disbelief, then slide it on, buttoning it up carefully.

"You really think too much, lu -- Willow."

    And all my rage is gone now, because he called me Willow. That seems surreal, because he wasn't asking me for anything. He just did it because he wanted to. I'm really confused. We're talking about major confusion here. Greater than ever before.

"I'll see you later," I whisper, but I know he heard me.

    I put on my shoes and take my jacket in my hand, and I walk out of the crypt into the sunshine. I close the door behind me, drop my head backward and raise my arms, reveling in the feeling of the warm sun on my skin, eyes closed, other senses alert.

    After a moment, could have been a few seconds or a few hours, I lower my arms and look around the cemetary. Everything looks so different in the light of day. My mind is still confused, but my heart is at peace.

    He called me Willow.

-----------

    Now the big problem isn't Spike anymore. 'Cause I know Spike, in some strange way. I know that we'll 'shag' again. And I know he'll never admit it, but it does mean something to him. I just know him and I know that the two of us will be alright.

    The problem now, really, is Tara. Because I know her too, and I know she will not be alright. And I know that I will hurt her, no matter what I do, or don't do, because I can't lie with my heart. And that knowledge is painful.

    I'll think about what to do in my shower. All my muscles are sore. I hadn't been taken by a man for so long that even now it still hurts. I stink of sweat and sex, and yet I feel good, in his shirt, in the sun, in love. I shouldn't be able to feel that good. I've had sex with a vampire a few hours after I broke up with my girlfriend and by doing so I probably crushed her heart to pieces. And yet I feel good.

    I open the door to my house, not caring about the fact that I hadn't locked it yesterday evening. I whistle a bit, walking into the living-room, but suddently the whistling dies on my lips.

    Tara's sitting on the couch, staring at me. Uncomprehension is marring her features, and I wish it would stay that way, because I don't want her to understand the meaning of Spike's shirt on me. But she does understand, and rage replaces confusion on this face I used to love.

"How could you..." Her voice is trembling, probably out of despair or betrayal.

    And I don't know what to say. I just stand there and this time I can't walk away. I have to stand up to her and try to force her into admitting the truth. And I have to suppress the urge to try and improvise a teleportation spell to get the hell outta here. She deserves this much.

"How could you cheat on me!" She started yelling. It's the first time she's yelled at me.

"I didn't-"

"Don't you dare deny it!" she interrupts.  "So that's what you've been hiding all this time!"

"I didn't cheat on you," I plead. "We're through now, you ultimatumed me!"

"Oh, I see! So you waited a few minutes after we broke up, did you?"

"I wasn't waiting for anything, Tara, please. At first I thought it had something to do with a spell." I speak softly, my voice almost a whisper. "I couldn't admit it to myself." I lower my head, ashamed. "But I'm attracted to him."

"Are you?" Her voice is cold now, disdainful even. "Another freak to add to your lovelife. The werewolf, the witch, then the vampire. What will it be after him? A Slayer maybe?"

    I look up, tears welling up in my eyes. How can she think...? "I loved you. I really did. How can you doubt that?" I wish my voice sounded firmer, but I can't help its trembling, no more than I can help the pain and the rage increasing in my bosom.

"You tell me." Still that icy tone. "You're scaring me. You're getting too powerful, and with Spike's mind games... The Goddess knows what you're gonna become. The Goddess knows what you've already become."

    Ok, that's a first. And this talk is so not getting us anywhere. "Spike is not playing games with me! And I don't know how you can think that my getting better at magic would be bad. Don't you trust me?"

"I used to."

    She grabs her bag and leaves quietly.

    What can I do now? I walk upstairs and into the bathroom. I take off Spike's shirt and step into the cold shower, with all my other clothes on, because I just don't seem to care anymore and because cold feels good.

    Yeah, sometimes, all you need is a little cold.

---------------

It's getting dark. On any normal day, I would already have been at the Magic Box for a few hours. But my days aren't gonna be normal anymore.

    I've spent the whole day here. Reading, thinking, eating Nutella and peanut butter, writing to some friends on the net, sleeping. And all of this merely dressed in Spike's shirt. Because it gives me an illusion of freedom. Yes, I am dressed in the shirt of a dangerous master vampire with whom I've had sex, and in this shirt only, and it feels good!

    It also feels good because sometimes I close my eyes for a minute, take a deep breath and inhale his smell. It's a smell of tobacco and alcohol and forbidden pleasure and lust and pain, and for this brief instant, I forget that he doesn't care.

    I told Tara he wasn't playing games with me. That's not true. What I meant was, his games are not gonna take me anywhere I don't want to be.

    I put down the book I've been leafing through and I get up. Time for some hot chocolate. I walk down the stairs, lost in my thoughts. I cross the living-room towards the kitchen and I'm about to enter it when I realise there is someone on the couch. Does everyone think they can enter my house without so much as knocking? I'll have to work on a spell to forbid the entrance to this house to anyone, humans and demons alike, uninvited.

    I turn around and discover, obviously, Spike. He's looking at me with a slight smile and glowing eyes. And both his smile and his gaze tell me what's gonna happen now. I don't even feel modest anymore. I don't have to say a word, and neither does he. He gets up and walks up to me and I can't help thinking of the slut I've become. My desire for hot chocolate has disappeared, replaced by another craving, one which needs fulfillment right here, right now.

    I crave Spike's embrace, his lips and his hands and his - well, other parts of his anatomy.

    So I let him walk up to me, still slightly nervous despite the cool behavior I'm trying to pull off. He puts his hands on my hips and pulls my hips to his, before kissing me with all the passion he's capable of, and believe me, that's an awful lot of passion. He takes me to the couch, not once breaking the kiss, and sits me down on his lap. I can feel his erection through his jeans and I shift to make myself more comfortable.

    He moans and stands up, lying me down on the couch, and setting to unbuttoning his shirt - that is, the one on me - while kissing my neck. I stay passive, simply putting my hands in his hair and tousling it - I prefer it that way.

    I feel as if I were watching my body have sex with Spike on my parents' couch, as if I knew how good it felt, and yet that knowledge had difficulty reaching the core of my being. Until one of Spike's fangs crapes lightly my neck and the pleasure reunites my body and soul, making me moan loudly.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell's going on?"

    I should really work on that spell. Because I recognize the voice which has just uttered those words. And as Spike lifts up his head, I know what he's gonna say.

"Slayer." He doesn't sound afraid, nor really surprised, angry or glad. He's just stating a fact.

    But I push him off me and jump on my feet, quickly rebuttoning the shirt. "Buffy, it's not what you think."

"Isn't it?" Spike asks, surprised, while dodging a kick from my best friend. She looks very decided to stake him. This is big trouble.

"Shut up!" I yell at Spike before I turn back to my friend. "Buffy!"

    She's still trying to get at him. She's not listening. She never listens. And suddenly a stake's in her right hand and it's inches away from Spike's chest, so my magic reacts according to what my heart feels. I extend my hand and Buffy's thrown into the door.

    Oh, Goddess. I just used my magic against the Slayer. Maybe Tara was right.

    No. I did what I had to do. She was making a mistake. Fighting the wrong enemy. Staking the wrong vampire. A mistake - and I corrected it.

    She's slowly getting on her feet, so I turn to Spike. "You'd better go."

"No way. It's the second time already and I'm not gonna let this stupid bint prevent us from shagging."

    I'm about to tell him exactly why he'd better get going; that is, not because of what Buffy might do to him, but because of what pain I could inflict to him while keeping him alive - as alive as a vamp can be. But I don't have time 'cause I have a Slayer to deal with.

"Willow?" Incredulity, sorrow and anger seep from her tone.

"I'm so sorry, Buffy, but I couldn't let you stake him. I didn't think. I-"

"What has he done to you? You've turned her against me, haven't you? I knew I shoulda staked you long ago."

"Buffy, stop this!" I yell at the top of my voice. She looks at me as if she was finally understanding that I am still sane. Wish I were sure of that, too. "He hasn't taken advantage of me, nor forced me into anything. That's why I couldn't let you stake him."

"Of course he's taken advantage of you! You're just too shocked to see it. You and Tara just broke up, you're weak and -"

"Tara and I have been over since I started dreaming about Spike and that's at least a few weeks ago, Buffy." I have no problem admitting it now because everything is falling apart, so I might as well tell the truth. Now Buffy looks utterly baffled, maybe comprehending the true meaning of all this. Maybe. "It's just the way it is, Buffy. Now step away from my lover."

    I don't look at him as I utter this last word, because I know he must despise me, because I know I'm gonna hear him snicker now. Except that I don't. There's no snicker. But suddenly there's a hand on my waist, an arm encircling my body. I finally look up into his face and there's no contempt. Only a wide, proud grin. And I can't help grinning back.

"I think I'm gonna go home," Buffy states weakly. "And figure out how I fell into this alternate universe."

    I finally tear my eyes off Spike's face and look at her. Her shoulders are slumped, her pretty face disturbed by the sight of what she shouldn't have seen. She shakes her head in disbelief as she walks out and closes the door.

    What's just happened? I think I found myself a lover.

----------------

    I wake up and this time I'm in my bed and I remember clearly what's happened. Even if I didn't, I guess the cold limbs entwined with mine would have brought everything back to my mind. For a moment I just enjoy lying here in his arms, warm skin against cold skin. It is odd to hear only my breathing, while knowing our two bodies are as close as they'll ever get.

    It was wonderful.

    None of that brutality from the other night. Sensuality and tenderness only. Who would have thought Spike knew anything about those? Certainly not me. Not after the other night. I wonder if he's asleep. I could open my eyes and take a peek at him but I feel way too comfy to achieve even such a tiny movement.

    It's amazing how warm I feel in such a cold embrace.

    Speaking of which, I realised earlier that during sex, his body had regained some sort of temperature. It wasn't as cold as usual during the foreplay and when he reached his orgasm, it was almost as hot as mine. Surprising, really. I think that maybe he needed to feed to recover the energy he'd burnt up. That'd explain why he bit me.

    Yep, he bit me. I let him bite me, when both our orgasms hit us. I guess my willingness prevented the chip from going off, just like last night. I let him bite me because I wanted him wholly and I wanted to let him know, in case he cared, that I accepted him. I'm not Buffy. I can deal with my boyfriend's fangs. I guess.

    And now I remember something I read in the Aurelius Chronicles. What we did - his fangs in me - that's basically the vampiric counterpart of a proposal.

    Goddess. Maybe Spike asked me to be his mate and maybe - maybe I agreed.

"What's this cute head of yours thinking about, luv?"

"Nothing. I mean, huh, nothing important."

    I open my eyes, finally, and look into his cunning gaze. His eyes are glowing with malice and his usual trademark smirk is playing on his lips.

"Considering the high temperature of your cheeks, I'd say that's a rather feeble attempt at lying."

"And you'd probably be right."

    I close my eyes and turn around, hoping that having my back to him will help me deal with my blushing issues. His body immediately reacts and spoons mine, his cold hands covering my belly.

    We stay like this for a while, without making a sound nor moving a limb. Comfortable. It is so quiet that the sound of my own breathing obsesses me, and I can feel my heartbeat reverberate through his own chest, against my back. It is so lulling. Deep, sound, regular beats.

    But I can't give in and go to sleep again. That comfort is but ephemeral and I have to put a stop to it myself if I want to be in control. Questions must be asked.

"Spike?"

"What is it, luv?"

"What are - I mean, are you and I - are we just... shagging?"

    He's laughing. That stupid vamp is laughing at me. I turn around while pushing his hands away from me, almost frantically, but he grabs my wrists and holds me still.

"Easy there, luv. Wouldn't want a bloody headache just for keeping you still."

    I calm down and he lets go of my wrists. Then two of his fingers reach my neck, linger on the two bite marks.

"Do you think I just bite anyone, Willow? Bit them and let them live, that is?" I keep my gaze at the base of his neck, right where the two collarbones end. I just love that particular spot. "Red, look at me." His fingers leave my neck to push my chin up until our eyes lock. "I don't. In fact, you are the first person I've bitten who's still alive to tell the tale, because I wanted it that way."

"Does that mean we're, like, lovers?"

    He laughs again, a short little laugh, which holds more amusement than contempt, even I have to acknowledge that. But I don't have time enough to pretend I'm angry, because Spike's lips are crushing mine and his tongue is now very thoroughly exploring my mouth. After a moment he withdraws, and I inspire deeply.

"Does that answer your question?"

    I smile at him and plant a small kiss on his lips. That's great. I do have a lover and he happens to be a gorgeous master vampire who's luckily been forced to give up on evil. But still, questions must be asked.

"What - what about the others?"

"What about them? The Watcher knows, the Slayer knows-"

"Tara knows, too. She was here when I came back this morning." I shut my eyes for a while, waiting for him to mock me, or her, but he stays silent. So I go on. "She said some stuff - she finds me dangerous, I think. I guess it's best this way."

"What way?"

"The way where she and I aren't pretending anymore." I stare at him expectantly.

"Thought you loved the chit."

"I did! I do! I just -- I love her, but she and I, it's not right. I don't feel like that anymore and although she wanted to believe otherwise, neither does she." I guess it's part of my magic, this ability to discern what things feel right - and what don't. Probably an enhanced sort of intuition. I don't know - I don't care.

"Then everything's settled. You're over her, aren't you? She'll figure it all out on her own soon enough. The Watcher'll come to his senses and accept it -"

"Already done. He was great."

"Then I underestimated good ol' Ripper. He'll manage to bring the Slayer round. Xander will freak out, but Anya will help him see how good it is for us to be sex buddies. What?" he asks as he sees me smirking.

"You called him Xander," I tease him.

"I did not!" He looks vaguely offended and it's just too funny.

"Did too!" And I burst out laughing because Spike's mock outrage is simply hilarious.

"Willow Rosenberg, I'm gonna have to make you shut the hell up."

    And his tone is so serious, his eyes so cold, that my laughter dies on my lips. I shiver because all of a sudden he really looks like that Big Bad we've always been so scared of, the one who used to torture his victims with railroad spikes. My body is tensed, my mind helpless and I know I should be thinking of a spell to defend myself, but I just can't. I'm frozen by his look.

    But the outburst of violence I was expecting doesn't happen. He keeps staring at me and I want to disappear, right now. I still can't think of any spell and I begin to panic as he tightens his hold on me. I'm about to scream when he kisses me with some of that previously mentioned violence.

    My heartbeat slows down, I catch my breath, close my eyes and relax into his kiss.

    Everything's gonna be fine.

-----------

    Spike and I have spent the day at home. Funny, isn't it? For twenty years I could never consider my parents' house as my home, not really. And all I need is to spend a day in there with a gorgeous vampire to feel as if it were. And of course, there's also the fact that I've missed two days of classes, and it doesn't really bother me - I know I'll pass my exams. I always do.

    It's five in the afternoon and I felt, much to Spike's dismay, that I ought to go to the Magic Box, check on everyone, sort things out. I push the door open and curse the bell which rings then. Anya looks up from the cash register and surprisingly enough, smiles.

    But then, when you think about it, Anya was the most likely to accept it.

    Then I see Giles, looking up from the essay he was helping Dawn with. Cute, sweet little Dawn is here and she's looking at me as well, but she doesn't seem to know how to react. So she stares at me, then at my shoes and up at my face again, fidgeting.

    I hear Xander yelling, probably out of mock or real pain, from the backroom. He must be training with Buffy. Everything's how it should be. Except with Tara and I missing from this slice of pure Scooby Gang routine.

"Hey guys." And I smile back at Anya because I'd rather handle her than Dawn.

"Hey. Now you and I are all good. You'll leave Xander alone while you're off with Spike, giving him org-"

"Anya," Giles cuts in, "I don't think anyone in this room wants to hear this."

"I kinda do," Dawn grumbles, then shrugs.

"How'd Xander react?" I ask Anya, trying not to think about what Dawn just said.

"Oh, he's mad at you. Really mad. Buffy and Angel, now you and Spike, what is there in these vampires that humans don't possess, yadda yadda yadda. He'll come to his senses."

"Anya?" She's gone back to her bills while telling me this and I wait for her to look up at me again. "Thanks."

"You're quite welcome. Told you: Xander'll have more time for me if he doesn't have to comfort you about Tara. Especially now that he hates you." She smiles at me, an honest smile, the same smile which always shows that she doesn't mean to hurt people; it's in her nature.

"So is he a good kisser?" We all stare at Dawn, baffled by this question. She shrugs, once again. "Just wonderin'."

"Well, yes, he is." I can't help answering her because I know this will surprise her as much as everyone else. "Lots of experience and all that, I guess." Actually, I don't really know where that came from. Especially since now they're all staring at me; guess I was right about their being surprised. Argh. I should just shut up sometimes.

"I don't know if I'll be able to walk normally for a couple of days, Buff," Xander's voice grows closer to us. "You'll have to face Anya's complaints."

    At least now they're not staring at me anymore. Though it doesn't really help with the awkwardness 'cause instead they're staring at the door through which my best friends, who incidentally hate me, are gonna come in.

"Stop complaining, will you? I barely hit y-" Buffy steps in first and stops dead in her tracks as she sees me, causing Xander to bump into her.

"Ever heard about..." he starts to ask her, but his words too die on his lips as he takes in my sight. Ok, too many people looking at me.

"Hey guys," I say weakly and give the ghost of a smile.

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