Distro: Mystifying Dreams, WWOMB, WLS, RedsSoulmates, Poetry in Motion, Writings of the Femail, and others
Spoilers: season 5
Pairing: Spike/Willow
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Willow is angry, ditches Tara and misses the fair.
A/N: Thanks to jennillu for the beta.
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So we fight. Nothing major that we can't get over, but I am super royally pissed right now and she can just go to the fair without me.
I'm stomping my way across town, the original destination changing once I remember that Buffy is having some alone time with Dawn. She is being kinda bitchy with her recently, but I'll worry about that later. Right now I am in me mode. Therefore I, once again, find myself in a graveyard, but at least it's not the middle of the night. As soon as he was well enough he left my parent's home and came back here, although I don't know why. His excuse is that my "bird" was giving him funny looks and he does not want to stir up trouble, which is a crock of...patootie. Spike always likes to stir up trouble. Not for me so much, not lately, but he can still stir with the best of them. He has a special spoon just for it.
The door to his crypt seems thicker and as I knock, my hand stings from its solidity. The heavy steel is cracked opened within seconds and I am beyond expecting any additional invitation. It's not his way.
Inside is dark and cool, a nice change from the midday warmth, but my arms instinctively wrap around my body. It knows there is a predator near, even if my mind chooses to ignore that fact. I can't see him, but get the feeling he is to my left by the wall so my eyes seek him out, first finding the blond locks and creating the outline of his image easily from there.
"Hey. I came by to see how you are."
"Been worse." He shrugs and moves toward the hole in his floor leading to the lower level. Sullen...I think. With him I can't always be sure.
"I woke you." I realize he had been sleeping and suddenly feel stupid. Of course he is sleeping. "I should go." But my feet don't take me toward the door.
"Up now, ain't I," he mumbles as he drops through the hole as if disappearing. I hear him land softly.
"Show off." I groan as I struggle to get down the ladder without breaking something.
Walking the cavern, he lights several candles, casting the room in a warm, golden glow before climbing on his bed. I join him, noticing his bruises are much smaller and lighter and that the swelling over his eye is nearly gone. My hand goes up to touch his cheek, but I pull it back, unsure that the contact would be welcome.
"You look a lot better."
"Yeah, feel better. You were a proper nursemaid...and that delicious blood of yours didn't hurt." The smirk is there, fighting to the surface, but he manages to hide it. "What happened with that earthy, magic to-do? Aren't you supposed to be there with Glenda?"
I glance at my hands. "Uh...yeah, she went. I came here."
And I can practically hear it when his head tilts. "A tiff then?"
"Yeah, apparently she thinks I'm all playing at being gay and that this is just a thing for me. Oh, oh! And my power 'frightens' her."
"Well, you are bloody powerful, Red. You just don't know how to use it all yet."
"But why would she be scared?" I ask and I'm whining, I know, but I feel justified and want some sympathy. Spike's will do nicely.
Instead he laughs. "She's not scared of you, pet, she scared for you."
"Okay...still doesn't explain her thinking I'm a flake about my, you know, sexual preference." Why did I whisper that? Luckily, he lets it go.
"Well, I'd wager she senses something. Three days ago, I was about to shag you rotten, luv, and you were not waving your little rainbow flag to stop me."
I huff a little, annoyed that I don't have a comeback. "That was different. There was blood and you... with the lack of clothes and the curls and it was really warm that day..." There, point proven...or not.
"Right." The eyebrow does its thing even in this dim lighting. "So you argue with your girl and you come here why?"
I groan and flop back onto his bed. "I don't know...I just wanted to see you. You know, talk...about stuff." No need to tell him about the stupid tingles that are sweeping over me this very moment. He has more than enough to deal with already. Just look at how busy he is...flaring his nostrils?
"Are you sniffing me up?"
He immediately stops and a mask of innocence covers his face, like a curtain falling on the stage, hiding what's behind it.
"I don't know what you mean. I was breathing."
"You don't breathe," I tell him as my eyes narrow. Then suddenly he drops the act and grins lasciviously.
"I do when there is something scrumptious in the air," he confesses, letting me know that he knows about the tingles....which, surprise, causes more tingles.
"I am trying to have a serious conversation about my gayness and you are not helping," I scold him and hope it will be enough to make him drop the subject.
"I am helping, Red," he says, his tongue resting behind his teeth, peeking out at me to say hey. Tease! "I just don't happen to think that you are gay. But I'm more than happy to help you work that out."
It's hard to know if he is playing or serious. A huge, horny and huge, part of me wants him to be serious and set me straight on the subject once and for all. And then there is the stubborn part of me that wants to make a statement and be different and prove Tara wrong.
His hand caressing my arm decides for me and I think that I am such a ho-bag.
"All right, Spike. Show me the light."
The End