Willow walked hastily down the streets of Los Angeles. Going back to Angel¹s Investigations and her own place would be the best thing to do. That¹s where Spike was most likely to show up, if he was looking for her.
Willow stopped.
Why should he be looking for her? Dru said nothing about his looking for her; and the redhead did not see any reason why he¹d want to see her. He killed her friends, and then he fled. Wasn¹t that enough? Did he want to make her suffer even more?
Willow grinned, and started walking again. Then he¹d be surprised. She wouldn¹t be the one ending up suffering. Not this time. Not any time.
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Spike was just wandering through the streets of LA, entering any club which would happen to be on his way. He still didn¹t know what he¹d do when he saw her.
Hell, he didn¹t even know what she looked like now. For the first time since he had seen his Sire, he thought of all the questions he had tortured himself with since his departure to England.
Questions like how she was doing, whether or not she managed to cope with her friends¹ deaths, with her lover¹s betrayal. What she really felt for him. Was it just sex to her, or love, too.
In a way, he hoped it had just been sex. This way she must have suffered less. Otherwise, her agony must have been undescribable. And unbearable.
Suddenly, a flash of red hair met his eye. He quickly stepped into the shadows. For the first time since he had killed the other members of the Scooby Gang, he was watching his Red. And she had bloody changed.
Not that he would complain; leather suited her forms perfectly. But she wasn¹t herself anymore. That was obvious. Looks like Angel hadn¹t been able to help her after all. The suffering must have been too great. Spike could not really blame his Grandsire.
He followed her for some time. She was heading back to Angel¹s, apparently. She looked very much lost in her thoughts. She turned into a small alley, disappearing from Spike¹s sight.
He started running towards the alley, cursing aloud. As he turned round the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. She was facing him, her green eyes, the very eyes Spike had missed so much, looking coldly at him.
Then suddenly they turned black. And so did Spike¹s sight. He collapsed into a heap on the floor. Willow smiled. ³Finally,² she whispered.
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Angel suddenly woke up. He had fallen asleep on his desk. How was that even possible? It wasn¹t even dawn. He heard footsteps upstairs. Willow must have gotten home, unwilling to wake him up.
Spike. Angel wondered if the two had met. He should probably go and tell Willow Spike had come by to see her. But he felt just so sleepy. He quickly checked the curtains were drawn before drifting back into unconsciousness.
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Spike¹s head was hurting. For a moment, he thought Bloody chip!¹ before remembering he did not have the chip anymore. He struggled to open his eyes, which only managed to aggravate the pain.
Finally, his eyes focused on something. A long leather coat, hung on a tall mirror. Spike tried to move, but he quickly understood it would be impossible. Something invisible was preventing him from moving an inch. He looked around.
A dark room. Bare walls. He was lying on a bed. Suddenly, everything came back to his mind. Her bed. Her leather coat. Willow had taken him here.
Just as he thought her name, the witch entered the room, clad in a velvet bath robe. Her now long red hair was still wet; she looked delicious. Spike couldn¹t prevent himself from looking at her pure white neck. During these months when they were lovers, he had never tasted her. It would have felt as if he was insulting her.
Then he looked up in her eyes. And he got scared. He knew the witch wouldn¹t be happy to see him, to say the least. But he had expected some kind of fire, hatred, to show in her eyes. They were empty of anything expect a disproportioned coldness.
³Spike,² she greeted him. ³Glad to see you¹re up. I hope you do not have too bad a headache.²
As she said those words, she grinned. And more pain assailed his brain. He yelled out in frustration at not being able to do anything.
³Angel!² the vampire finally yelled, hoping he was indeed at his Grandsire¹s.
³Oh, no, don¹t wake up Angel, he¹s sleeping so soundly...²
Something in Willow reminded Spike of Drusilla. And he didn¹t like this at all. But he couldn¹t do a thing, now, could he? Time to take responsibility for his mistakes. He was about to speak when Willow, with a small gesture of her hand, closed his mouth shut.
³Please, let me have my little speech first. It¹s the very least you can do,² she smiled again, coldly. ³I had been wondering, for quite some time, what I could do when I¹d meet you again. You know, to get revenge. First I just wanted to stake you, but it wouldn¹t have been enough. Physical torture neither, as a matter of fact. I came up with something, a few weeks ago. But this is only a start, lovely, don¹t worry.²
While saying those words, the witch had come to Spike and was now sitting on the bed next to him. When she leaned down towards him, the robe split a bit and he could catch a glimpse of her perfect white breasts. He realised how deeply he loved her. For he wanted nothing more right now than to let her do what she wanted of him. His demon growled innerly at the thought, for he just wanted to take her and claim her as his, but Spike¹s mind was settled.
He plunged his blue eyes in her green orbs. He couldn¹t believe what he saw there. Finally, feelings were storming in her eyes. Feelings of love, hatred, pleasure, lust, but mostly betrayal, pain and anger.
She lowered her mouth to his right ear and began sucking at his lobe. Then she whispered to him: ³Feel what I felt.² She strongly kissed him, her warm tongue invading his mouth. At first, Spike simply closed his eyes and rejoiced in the kiss, but then the feelings came.
He was unable to push her tongue away, and the feelings kept coming. He was wrong when he had thought he understood what she must have gone through. Now he felt it. All this love, this need that she had born for him, that she had hidden from him. All this pain that she had experienced at their death, all this hatred she had felt for him. The hurt of the betrayal; the hurt of the multiple losses. The need for revenge burning inside her. And, most of all, the guilt. The incredible guilt she had had to put up with. The guilt which was finally unbearable, which had finally forced her to stop feeling.
Her tongue slowly withdraw from his mouth. He opened his eyes to notice a dark aura was surrounding both of them. The aura quickly faded away, as well as the feelings in her eyes. He realised his face was wet. He had cried continuous bloody tears. She got up, quickly.
³Willow,² he broke out into a fit of heavy sobs.
Through his tears, through the convulsions his body was going through, he managed to see her face. The same impassive mask. The same cold eyes. A slight grin of disdain. Disdain!
The sobs finally faded away.
³Now, Spike, you have to be very quiet,² another gesture of her hand ensured that. ³It¹s midday, people are gonna come in the office. I want you to stay my little secret.²
She quickly went into the bathroom and got changed. Then, all leather-clad, she left the room, locking it behind her. Spike had long hours in front of him. All the feelings she had pushed inside him were still mingling with his own. He knew they¹d never leave him alone. He started again to cry silently.