Pairing: Willow/Spike
Summary: Willow is Spike-sitting and Giles' scotch is just sitting there. What's a broken-hearted girl to do?
Feedback: PLEASE!
Distribution: If you have any of my previous fics, you may have this. Otherwise, please ask first.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to Joss and a bunch of other people who are not now and have never been me.
Author's Notes: This fic was written in answer to the drunken_fiesta challenge on the fanfic_fiesta LJ community and was also written for Inell, who wanted Spillowy fluff!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Give us a bit of that, will ya, pet?" Spike whined as he watched Willow down some of Giles' best scotch, straight from the bottle.
"Go 'way," Willow slurred. "Tryin' to get drunk here."
"Seems like you're well on your way there, Red. But don't be so bloody selfish. After all, you're not the only one nursin' a broken heart here."
"Oh, yeah. Like you care so much about my pain. Why should I care about yours?"
Willow's eyes filled with tears and she took another slug of scotch, trying desperately to get to that numb, happy place where she couldn't feel the pain of Oz' betrayal anymore. She'd almost gotten there when Spike's voice had cut through the haze and brought her dangerously close to reality once more. Stupid vampire! Couldn't he just *shut up* for once?
"Red, pleeeease?" Spike's shrill whine broke through the haze once again and Willow walked over to the chair to which he was tied.
"If it will get you to shut up."
With that, Willow held the bottle to Spike's lips and poured a generous amount of it into the vampire's mouth, watching with fascination the joyful expression on his face as he swallowed.
"Thanks, pet. Any chance you could untie me? If you do, I'll show you where the Watcher keeps the rest of his booze and we can *really* get pissed."
"You wanna get angry?" Willow slurred.
"Americans! Drunk, that's what I wanna get. I wanna get falling down drunk."
"Oh, 'kay! That sounds good. But you gotta promise to let me tie you back up before Giles gets back. He tol' me not to untie you."
"'S a deal, pet. Now let's get this party going."
Willow undid the ropes tying Spike to the chair with fumbling fingers as best she could and Spike was soon free, though she could feel his impatience as she struggled with the last two knots.
As Spike sprang up happily, stretching his arms and causing Willow to become fascinated by the play of his muscles, she suddenly had a disturbingly sober thought; if she got any more drunk, would she even be able to restrain him once more? But she quickly cast the thought aside. Thinking bad. Drinking good. And it was time to get back to the latter.
"Okay, Spike. Where's the rest of Giles' scotch?"
"I'm getting' to that, Red,"
And with that, Spike went to a cabinet that Willow had always thought contained weapons, fiddled a bit with the lock, opened it, and pulled out two bottles of very fine scotch. The rational part of Willow's brain made another unwelcome observation by pointing out that Giles might not be pleased to find that she had gone through three bottles of his best scotch. And that there was no way to hide the fact that it was gone and she had drunk it. Well, she and Spike, but without *her*, Spike would never have gotten any at all. Coming so soon on the heels of her "will be done" fiasco, this drinking party might not be such a good idea.
Spike's voice, blessedly this time, brought her back to the present. Why worry about what would happen in a few hours? Wasn't Buffy always telling her to live in the now? Well, she was doing just that, dammit! So if Giles got mad at her for this, she would just tell him it was all Buffy's fault.
"To us, Red. Sod Dru! Sod dogboy! They don't know what they're missing!"
After a toast like that, Willow felt it would be impolite not to drink to it, so Willow took the offered bottle from Spike and polished off the last of the bottle that had started this whole thing.
"To us, Spike! Who needs cheating exes anyway?"
She looked into Spike's eyes and saw the pain she was sure shone from her own. It was gonna take a lot more alcohol to get to that happy place. Thank heavens Spike had known where to find it.
~~~*~~~
Willow and Spike rolled on the floor, tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks. Suddenly, Willow had a thought and looked up.
"What were we talking about, Spike?" she asked drunkenly.
"Don't know, Red. Can't remember. Were we talking about biting?"
"Biting!" Willow crowed. "Biting is good! Would you bite me, Spike?"
"I'd love to, pet. But I can't," Spike said sadly.
"Don'tcha want to?"
"'S not that, luv. It's the chip."
"That's it," Willow said, getting up and stomping her foot. "No one wants me to have a puppy! First my parents, now the stupid 'nitiative! Why can't I have a puppy?"
Spike looked at Willow, clearly confused. "What does my chip have to do with you getting a puppy?"
"Spike, don't you see? If you bit me, I'd be Vamp Willow and then I'd get to wear leather and be evil and have a puppy, just like she did," Willow said, forgetting that Spike had never met Vamp Willow as she took another gulp of scotch from the nearly empty third bottle.
"Vamp Willow?" Spike asked, clearly intrigued.
"Yeah, you know, when Anya did the spell and.oh yeah, you were gone. Well, Anya and I did this spell and we brought Vamp Willow from another dimension here and she was so cool! OOPS! Don't tell anyone I said that! Anyway, she wore all this leather and she was really evil and she took over the Bronze and she had a puppy! I want a puppy! Only I don't want *her* puppy. He broods too much and I don't think he'd be fun to play with. OOH! Would you be my puppy, Spike? Please!"
"You want me to be your puppy, Red?" Spike said, completely confused by Willow's rambling account of Vamp Willow.
"Of course, silly," Willow said as she patted him on the head. "You'd be a much funner puppy than Angel. Puppies are supposed to play and jump all over you and lick you and I don't think Angel would do that."
"You want me to lick you, Red?" Spike asked, his voice suddenly low and full of sexual promise. "I can be your puppy, baby."
Suddenly, Willow found herself tackled to the ground as Spike pinned her arms above her head. Then she heard that smooth voice whispering in her ear.
"I can lick you, baby. I can lick you real good."
Willow gasped as Spike stuck his tongue in her ear, then moved to suck
on her earlobe. Moaning, Willow barely noticed Spike's hands moving down
and unfastening her jeans. Before she knew it, Spike had her jeans pulled
off her, along with her panties. She kept her arms above her head to help
him get her shirt off and was happy that she had foregone a bra that day.
Clothes were stupid, she decided, especially here in the happy place. The
happy place where she could feel nothing but Spike's lips moving over her
breasts and Spike's fingers between her thighs, moving inside her and rubbing
her clitoris until she couldn't remember feeling anything else, ever. And
then Spike's head was between her thighs and Willow thought she would die
from the pleasure. His tongue was doing things to her that she had never
experienced before, not even with.she couldn't remember his name anymore.
And it didn't matter. He didn't live in the happy place, anyway. The only
people who lived here were she and
Spike.
"Oh, Goddess! Spike!" Willow screamed as she came.
Unfortunately, Willow wasn't the only one who was screaming at that same moment.
"What in the HELL is going on here?"
"'Ello, Watcher," Spike said as he looked up, guilty as could be, his face drenched in Willow's release and surrounded by empty bottles of scotch. "You're home early, aren't you?"
The End.