Pairing: Willow/Spike
Genres: Drabbles and Ficlets, Fluff
Rating: FRT-13
Warnings: none
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It was a dark and stormy night. Well, no, actually it was a balmy, clear night in Sunnydale, California. But the expression on the face of a certain bleached-blond vampire was certainly dark and stormy as he stared at a small, redheaded girl deeply engrossed in a book she was reading.
‘Damn chit’s ignoring me,’ Spike muttered crossly under his breath. It was Willow’s turn for Spike-sitting duty that night. Giles would be out until the next morning. Buffy had the night off, so there was no patrol. Spike finally had some time alone with the delicious little witch, time he’d been looking forward to all day, and what was she doing? Reading. And not paying him the slightest bit of attention. Of all the damnable cheek!
“Re-ed,” Spike whined. “Whatcha reading?”
“It’s Harry Potter, Spike,” Willow replied. “Now could you be quiet so I can read in peace? Why don’t you watch TV? Isn’t Passions on or something?” She put her finger to her lips and made a ‘shh’ sound before settling back into reading her book.
Harry Potter? The little witch was ignoring him in order to read some stupid children’s book? And did she just ‘shush’ him like he was a child? Comes from reading kiddie lit, he thought angrily to himself. There they were, a man and a woman alone in a house together on a Friday night. There were so many delightful ways that they could pass the time. And how does she choose to spend that time? Reading a bloody kid’s book!
Most women would have far better ideas for how to while away the hours with a handsome bloke like him, that was certain. Ah, but Willow was not most women. He’d come to that conclusion long ago. He’d thought of turning her the night he’d kidnapped her and the moron. But drunken stupidity had caused him to give her up and go running back to Dru. What a mistake that had been. And then he’d wasted time with the Gem of Amara and gotten himself captured by the bleedin’ Initiative when what he ought to have done was just snatched up the little temptress, turned her, and never let her go.
Too late for all that now. His bite was gone, perhaps forever. But he could still shag, thank Hell for that, and that was precisely what he had hoped to do with the delicious young thing currently snubbing him in favor of some ridiculous book about a school for witches. Well he wasn’t going to put up with this. He was William the Bloody, slayer of Slayers, one quarter of the Scourge Of Europe. And he was not going to be ignored by the girl he’d set his sights on. It was time to take action.
Spike got up from the couch and stomped over to the chair in which Willow was curled up with her book, not noticing his approach. He pulled her to her feet, careful not to hurt her and set off his chip, and then yanked the book from her hands, tossing it on to the chair.
“Spike! What are you…?”
That was all Willow was able to say before her lips were crushed by Spike’s in a passionate kiss. He could feel her push against him at first, but then her arms wound around his neck, pulling his head closer to hers and returning his kiss with a fervor that matched his own. When they finally broke apart to allow Willow some much-needed breath, Spike asked, “There love, now isn’t this better than Harry Potter?”
“Much,” Willow replied. And then all conversation ceased for a very
long time as a forgotten volume sat neglected in an empty chair.
The End