Summary: Willow's life takes a strange twist
Disclaimer: All characters and aspects of the fictional environment are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, et al. There is no intent, or remote possibility, of anyone profiting from this.
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~Part: 1~
Willow felt him moving inside her. His rhythm quickened as she moved toward release. Her eyes were closed tightly; early on she'd vowed not to look at him. She lay on her back with her arms extended; her hands clutching the sheets. Connected only at their centers, she willed herself closer to the edge, closer to losing herself in animal pleasure. She was nearly there, now she needed him.
"Now, now," she cried hoarsely, the only words she'd spoken.
He increased his thrusts and as she reached the ultimate peak, he thrust one last time and began to fill her with powerful spasms. She drifted away, every nerve overloaded. For the moment, nothing mattered in the world except her body. She hardly felt it when he rolled off to lie beside her. He was careful to not touch her. Soon, she felt the tendrils of memory intrude at the edges of her consciousness. The glow began to fade, slowly at first then more quickly as the reality of the small room began to intrude. She rolled away from him and rose to her hands and knees.
"Are you ready?" she asked in a flat voice. In answer, she felt him move behind her. Squeezing her eyes shut again, she willed her body to respond. When he entered her, she thrust her hips back and began again.
~~~*~~~
She dressed quickly without a word. He never spoke; it was one of her rules. At the beginning, she'd made what she did and didn't want very clear. Pulling her dress over her hips, she stepped into her shoes. She always wore a dress, she could take it off and put it on quickly, minimizing the time they had to spend together.
She paused by the dresser, "Friday at four?"
He nodded as she hurried out of the small room. A bed, dresser and two wooden chairs were the only furnishings. A small bathroom was the only concession to luxury. She'd picked the room as well. He lay back on the bed with a forearm across his eyes.
~~~*~~~
She sat behind the wheel and stared straight ahead. Clearing her mind, she prepared for her special ritual. Early on, she'd found it difficult to handle the physical and emotional shock when she returned home. That's why she developed what she thought of as her decompression ritual. At set places on her return trip, a landmark or traffic light, she'd push a memory of the afternoon away into the recesses of her mind and substitute a thought of something she had to do at home. By the time she reached home, she was ready to step into her everyday life without a missed step. She was wondering how Mrs. Edwards had done while she gone as she pulled into her driveway. Opening the door, she stepped out lifting her bag from the passenger seat. Closing the door, she absently hefted the bag and then froze for a moment. Quickly opened her bag, she pulled something from a zippered pocket. She opened her hand and stared at the plain gold ring in her palm. She pushed it onto the third finger of her left hand and headed for the door. She greeted the middle aged woman sitting at the kitchen table.
"Mrs. Edwards, how did every thing go this afternoon?" Willow asked pouring her self a cup of tea.
The pleasant faced woman smiled, "Everything was just fine. He was as peaceful as a baby Mrs. Harris, as peaceful as a baby."
~Part: 2~
She sat with him as she did most evenings. After Mrs. Edwards had gone,
she
went around the room checking the charms and herbal aromatics. Through
the
grace of the Goddess, her powers continued to slow his decline.
Returning to her chair, she picked up his hand and held it. Looking
into his
unlined and surprisingly youthful face, she remembered the beginning.
~~~*~~~
She wanted them all dead; they were all responsible for Tara's death.
She'd teach them the consequences of opposing her.
She funneled all of her dark energy into raising the temple. From it,
she
would observe the end of their world.
Then he had to come. Talk of love and friendship, she didn't want him,
she
didn't need him. He was only a distraction now. She could blast him
into
nothingness, flay him alive or squeeze out his life in slow and painful
measures. But she did nothing.
She railed and screamed and threatened, but in the end he was right.
She
couldn't do it, not to him. He became the face of the world she couldn't
destroy.
Just like that, it was over. She collapsed and he caught her. The evil
energy
was draining from her by the second.
She cried tears of relief and also of guilt for the horrors that she
had come
so close to bringing to the world.
It was then that she felt it, the chill deep inside him. As cold and
silent as
the death it was bringing, she could feel it slowly growing. Exposure
to her
evil energy had planted the seed and now it was alive in him beginning
to
consume his life force.
Then she began to cry for him.
~~~*~~~
He was still resting; the others thought he was exhausted from his struggle
with her. She sat in the makeshift office Giles had created in Buffy's
spare
room. Pushing the last of the reference books away, she sat back exhausted.
The hours of research had only confirmed what she already knew. Xander
was
going to die. Constant care and attention by a skilled witch might
extend his
life and ease the pain, but there was no power in heaven or hell that
could
save him.
She knew what had to be done.
~~~*~~~
Willow tapped on the bedroom door, opened it quietly and stepped through.
Closing it silently behind her, she approached the bed.
"Giles are you awake?"
"Extreme pain has a way of warding off sleep," he replied weakly.
She knelt down beside the bed and took his hand.
"I'm so sorry," she said.
He squeezed her hand gently, "I'm just glad that the magic overload
worked
to bring you back. I don't know what I would have done if anything
had
happened to you."
She held his hand to her cheek.
"The sooner I'm up and around," he continued, "the sooner we can leave
for England and begin getting you back to your old self."
She lowered his hand, “I can’t go. I’m sorry.�
He groaned as he tried to sit up, “what do you mean you
can’t go? You must
go, it’s the only ….�
She put a finger to his lips, “I have something important to tell you.�
She explained about Xander. At first, he was sure she was wrong, that
in her
exhaustion she had overlooked a resource or reference in her research.
“Do you think I want to be right?� she asked in frustration.
“Guilt can blind,� he began.
“It can also motivate,� she interrupted.
Eventually she convinced him that she had done everything and looked everywhere.
“All right I agree,� he said slumping back
against his pillows, “but what
can we do?�
She told him her plan.
After a long silence, he spoke, “I don’t know what to say.�
“You know it’s the right thing to do, “she added.
He objected, “I realize that it gives him the best chance
of a… ah peaceful
outcome, but at what price to you? You know he wouldn’t
want you to make this
sacrifice.�
“I know, but he’d do it for me and I know that too.�
After a few moments, she prompted, “what do you say?�
He smiled weakly, “you’ll do it with or without me won’t you?�
She nodded.
“Then it will be with me, “he said squeezing her hand.
~Part: 3~
Dawn was kind of glad to be leaving for a few days. After all the evil
Willow
stuff, everyone was walking on eggs. Giles was taking Willow’s
old room and
Xander was resting in Buffy’s. That meant she was either
on the couch or in
a single bed with her sister. She wrinkled her nose at the very thought.
A
couple of phone calls and she had an invitation from Janice’s
Mom to stay for
as long as she wanted.
“Hi Dawnie, “Willow said pulling her back
to reality, “have you seen
Anya?�
“She’s in the kitchen with Buffy, that’s why I’m out here.�
Willow smiled and walked toward the kitchen.
Dawn sighed and thought she might as well wait out on the porch for
Janice’s
Mom.
She was perched on the railing when she noticed through the closed window
that
Willow and Anya had come into the living room.
Scanning the street for a moment, she looked back when she heard raised voices.
She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Anya looked
very upset.
Willow was telling her something and she kept shaking her head. Willow
had
hold of the other girl’s shoulders and moved her face
close to Anya’s
trying to hold her attention.
When she stopped talking, Anya said something to her. Willow dropped
her hands
and pointed to herself. At this, Anya grabbed Willow and it was all
the red
head could do to keep her at arm’s length.
Almost as suddenly as she started, Anya stopped and collapsed sobbing
into
Willow’s arms.
Dawn sat transfixed.
Anya wiped her eyes and stepped back from Willow. She said something
and
Willow responded. The shock on Anya’s face was clear;
they talked for a few
more minutes and Anya’s face relaxed into a teary smile.
Dawn turned away at the sound of a car horn. She waved at Janice and
her Mom
and gestured for them to wait and then ran back inside.
“Ride’s here,� she said stepping into the living room, “bye.�
She hugged Willow and Anya, “I love you guys, “she
said kissing them each
on the cheek.�
Outside, Dawn picked up her backpack and started down the path. She
didn’t
know why she’d gone back, but she knew it was the right
thing to do.
0
Willow sat at her father’s desk holding the old black telephone
receiver.
She took a deep breath and punched in the number of her parent’s
San
Francisco condo.
She let out the breath in relief as her father answered.
“Hi Dad, it’s me.�
“What other beautiful young thing would be calling an old man like me?�
Willow was silent.
“Not even a chuckle, “he said, “this must be serious.�
“Dad, “she started,� I need a favor. I need you to handle Mom.�
“That’s a big favor, “he said. “What’s this all about?�
“I’m getting married.�
After a few moments silence, he spoke, “I’m
thinking that maazeltov is not
what I should be saying.�
“I’m marrying Xander.�
“Isn’t this awfully soon after ….?� He asked with concern.
“I have to do it.�
There was silence again at the other end.
“Ok, what’s the other shoe, let it drop. If
that were all of it, you both
would be on your way here to San Francisco to do this in person.�
“We’re going to Nevada tomorrow.�
Again there was silence.
“This is what you want?�
“Yes�
“Willow, sweetheart, I know there are parts of your life
that we can’t be a
part of. It wasn’t easy for us to accept that, but we
did.�
“We accepted it because we trust you and we trust your
judgment. We did the
best we could in raising you and you’ve matured into a
smart, sensible,
beautiful, and loving, did I say beautiful?�
She laughed for the first time and she could feel her father’s relief.
“..loving and beautiful woman. You make me proud every day, Willow.�
“It won’t be easy, but I’ll handle
her. If you don’t hear from me in a
week, call the SFPD.�
“Thanks Dad, “she said in a shaky voice.
“I wanted to tell you something. The few days that you
and Tara spent with
us here are day’s we’ll cherish for ever.
She was a wonderful person.�
“Thank you, “she said. Her tears made tiny
circles as they fell on the
green blotter.
“Good bye, “she said.
“Maazeltov,� he said softly.
~Part: 4~
Now came the easiest part.
She went upstairs. Passing the spare room, she checked on him. He seemed to be resting well.
She slipped into her bedroom and clicked on the light. After pausing for a moment, she went to her dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Feeling around in the back of the drawer, she pulled out a small wooden box. She moved to the bed, sat and opened it.
She removed three small cloth bags and a silver clip holding a few strands of dark brown hair. Finally, she removed a small folded slip of paper.
Closing her eyes, she remembered the day she'd put this box away.
0
She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. Picking up the three small bags, she carefully placed them in the small box. She held the clip in her hand.
She'd snipped it from his hair one afternoon while he was napping after a long night in the library. It was the last thing she needed for the spell. The spell that would give her something she'd always wanted, him.
In the end, though, she couldn't do it.
He would come to love her or he wouldn't. He might break her heart. But at least it would be real, the love or the heartbreak. Either way, she wouldn't be saddled with guilt.
She closed the box and knelt pushing it to the back of the drawer.
0
Willow emptied the ingredients into a small silver dish. Reading from the paper, she added the clip containing the hair. Then she struck a match and dropped it in. There was a blue flash and the dish was empty.
She sat down on the edge of his bed and gently shook his shoulder.
"Xander, "she said softly, "We have to talk."
He opened his eyes and smiled weakly, "I knew my best girl would be
here for me."
0
Willow will be pissed, Buffy thought as she hurried down the sidewalk.
What's so damn important about this party anyway? Probably just a bunch of Wiccans in ankle length skirts and hand knit sweaters. And Birkenstocks, can't forget the Birks.''
She smiled at the image of a room full of large women in heavy hand made jewelry and narrow wire rimmed glasses.
At least Xander will be there, we can sit in the corner and quietly make fun of them, she thought with a wicked grin.
As she approached Willow's, she noticed the number of cars crowding the street. Turning into the driveway, she saw Spikes old car with the blacked out windows parked within sprinting distance of the back porch.
She cut across the lawn and mounted the steps to the porch.
In the relative gloom, she nearly tripped over something going through the door.
"Bloody hell, "a voice said from the floor, "watch where you put those size twelve's."
She squatted down on her heels. As her eyes adjusted, she saw Spike sitting on the floor gripping a half empty bottle of scotch.
He took a long pull from the bottle and then seemed to notice her for the first time.
"Hail, hail the gangs all here, "he said sarcastically.
"What's got you into such a party mood?" she replied.
He gestured vaguely behind himself with the bottle, "just wait until you hear the big news."
He patted the floor beside him, 'I'll save you a pew."
He looked at the bottle in his other hand, 'but bring your own."
She shook her head, stood up and crossed into the kitchen.
Through the door to the dining room, she could see Dawn, Willow and Spike's demon buddy Clem with their heads together over a table full of finger food. Behind them, a small bar was set up on a side table.
She walked into the living room, and scanning the room, she saw Xander sitting in a chair talking on the phone.
"I understand how things can come up. I know you wanted to be here, but things were moving kinda fast." He listened for a moment and spotted Buffy moving toward him.
"Ok, we'll be seeing you real soon Mr. Rosenberg, 'He listened for a moment.
"Ira it is, I can't wait to see you both, thanks, bye."
He hung up the phone and looked up at Buffy.
"Hi, glad you could come," he said avoiding her eyes.
"I just got back from LA, are you feeling better?"
"Yeah, I'll be as good as new in no time."
She noticed the new lines in his face and the darkness under his eyes and wasn't convinced.
"I ran into Spike on the way in, to tell the truth I almost stepped on him. He was really pissy and when I told him so, he told me to wait until I heard the big news. Do you have any idea what he …"
Buffy paused when he noticed that Xander was peering intently at something behind her.
She turned and nearly collided with Willow.
"Hi Will, I was just asking Xander, is there some big news that I should know?"
Willow answered nervously, 'I tried to - ah - call you last night, I wanted to talk to you about today."
"Just got back from LA a couple of hours ago, "Buffy explained.
"What about the …."
Buffy stopped in mid sentence as she noticed the shiny new gold band on Willow's left hand. A quick look confirmed the presence of its mate on Xander's hand.
"Will, I ..ah.. you and Xander I…"
Willow gave her a purposeful glance along with an infinitesimal shake of her head.
Buffy spun around scanning the room. She saw Giles in the far corner and cut a path through the crowd in his direction.
She didn't slow down when she reached him but grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hall and into the small room Willow's father used as his office.
She closed the door and then rounded on him.
"What the hell is going on? I thought you were going to take her away to the magic Betty Ford Clinic or something."
"Well, "he said hesitantly, "that was my intention."
"Fine intention guy you are, "she continued on. "When did she spring this on you, this morning?"
"Actually, "he said removing his glasses and intently polishing the lenses, "she told me the day before we left."
"Before as in you had a chance to stop this and ….. Wait a minute, what did you mean before we left?"
"Actually, when we got to Nevada, I was best man."
Buffy stared at him for a full minute.
"If you weren't thinking about them, at least you could have thought about what this would do to Anya."
"Ah yes Anya, "he said sheepishly, "maid of honor."
Buffy slowly turned and opened the door. She walked slowly through the crowd, bumping into those who didn't move aside. As she passed the bar, she grabbed a bottle of vodka.
"Welcome back, got your party face on yet?" Spike said as she sat down on the floor next to him.
"What the hell is going on?" she asked no one in particular and then took a long drink.
"Told you Slayer, "Spike said, 'it's a right cock up isn't it?"
She turned on him angrily, "I still don't see what you problem is, it's Willow. It's not like I got married or something then you might have an excuse to carry on like a broken hearted jerk."
He rose unsteadily to his feet, "you might know about some parts of my body, but you know bugger all about my heart. What we did, the only difference between me and that little thing you hide under your mattress is that I don't need batteries."
She blushed, "how did you know…"
Spike snatched the bottle from her hand, turned and stumbled through the door and out across the lawn and into the shadows.
Buffy looked around and spotted Clem pouring wine.
She reached over and grabbed the bottle.
Lifting the half empty bottle as if proposing a toast and said, " cagratu - fucking- lations and chugged the contents.
"I'll get you a refill, "Clem said heading back toward the bar.
"How ya doing hubby? " Willow asked not liking the way he was looking.
"Kinda tired wifey dear, " he replied.
"Ok Xan, I promise never to say that again if you'll ditch the wifey, what do you say?"
He grinned and nodded.
"Come on, "she said taking his arm.
She sat him down on the bed and helped him undress. Away from the party, he seemed to shrink.
"Lay down for a while, I'll finish up down stairs and be back as soon as I can.
"Will, "he called out as she turned to leave, "I'm sorry about last night."
She turned back and took his hand," that's Ok Xan."
"When I shake this thing, I'm gonna take you on a real honeymoon. It won't make a difference where either, because we'll never come out of the room, "he said with a grin and a squeeze of her hand.
A moment afterwards, she leaned against the hallway wall and silently cried.
~Part: 5~
The room was dim now; she'd been too deep in thought to notice the creeping shadows.
She roused herself and rose stiffly. Buffy hasn't been the same toward her or Xander since, she thought. She was distant with everyone, Giles, Anya everyone but Dawn.
Willow went down the hall to her old room. She didn't sleep with him every night anymore. She wouldn't tonight; she never did after one of her …. She let the thought drift away.
When she did sleep with him, she found it hard to relax. She was afraid to touch him, he seemed so frail.
She pulled off her dress and hung it in the closet and retrieved a fresh night gown. She unhooked her bra and tossed it into the hamper; then stepped out of her panties and tossed them into the waste can.
It was part of the ritual. She always wore brand new panties and threw them away afterwards.
Later, she sat at her desk and idly toyed with her computer. She felt the familiar stab of remorse. She got it most times after. She never slept those nights, but she always dreamed.
It was raining and she ducked into the hotel bar. Her evening class had been canceled, but Mrs. Edwards was with Xander and she wouldn't expect her till midnight.
She was guilty that she felt so happy that she had a whole evening with no responsibilities. It was like a gift.
She sat at a small table with a glass of white wine and tried to relax. With each passing day, her life was becoming more and more taken with him. It wasn't as if she resented it, she couldn't do that. It was just that she was constantly tired, she only let herself use Mrs. Edwards when she had to be away. The rest of the time, she took care of him herself.
At first, he would sit with her and they would talk about her day and plan their little trips to visit friends or to the park or a movie. It wasn't long, however, until he hadn't the strength to leave the house. Soon after that, he could only spend an hour or two a day out of bed.
Her spirits fell as she thought of the days, weeks and months ahead of her as he slowly drifted away.
She looked at the half empty glass and sighed, she shouldn't be here, she thought, she should be home with him.
She tossed some cash on the table and got up. She stooped to pick up her bag and then stood turning toward the door.
The waiter serving the next table didn't see her when he held out his tray.
Willow bumped the tray spilling a drink onto the man sitting at the table.
"Oh I'm so sorry, "she said first to the waiter and then to the man who was mopping his jacket with a napkin.
"Please bring another, 'Willow said to the waiter looking at the now empty glass on his tray.
He nodded.
"And one for the generous lady, white wine isn't it?" the man said with a smile.
"No, no please I was just on my way out, 'Willow explained.
"I insist," he said getting to his feet and pulling out a chair.
She was about to make an excuse when she glanced down and remembered she wasn't wearing her ring tonight. At first, she'd thought that wearing it would keep single guys from bothering her, but she soon realized that it more times than not she had to explain about Xander and the fact that he was ill and .. it just got to be too damned depressing. Now she was experimenting with leaving it off for school functions.
Willow watched the waiter disappear toward the bar, "Ok just for a moment."
"Hi, I'm Scott Davis, "the man said.
He looked about twenty five, he was kind of cute. He looked like a grad student dressed for a job interview.
She flashed back to a day several years before. She and Buffy were still roommates at UC Sunnydale. She'd been throwing herself into schoolwork even more than usual, Oz was gone and Tara was just a friend, the work was all she had.
She'd gone home for the weekend, it was quieter and there was no Buffy with 'Riley this' and 'Riley that' to point out her own loneliness. Not that she did it on purpose, but it hurt just the same. Saturday afternoon she found that she'd left a book she needed at school.
She drove back to campus and was about to open the door to her room, when she thought she heard something. She opened the door a crack and peered inside. What she saw hit her like a physical blow.
On Buffy's bed to the right of the door, she and Riley were making love, no that wasn't accurate, they were fucking. She was on all fours facing the headboard with her face in a pillow muffling her moans and cries of pleasure. Riley was behind her pounding into her at a furious pace, nearly withdrawing with each out stroke and then driving completely in again. Along with her muffled screams and his hoarse grunts, she could hear the sucking liquid sound caused by her wetness and the light slapping of his stomach on her ass on the in strokes.
Willow couldn't look away, her heart was racing and she could feel the sudden wetness between her legs. Her increasingly heavy breathing fell into rhythm with theirs. She trembled with Buffy as she began to moan his name. Then when Buffy cried out yes, yes, yes and Willow could see her stiffen and then nearly collapse, she felt her own orgasm. She literally bit her tongue to keep from crying out and her hold on the door frame was the only thing that prevented her from falling.
Riley's rhythm began to break down and he pulled out completely and began to stroke himself. Willow was amazed at the size of him; a small part of her wondered how her friend could accommodate something that huge. He grunted and began to shake and she realized they hadn't been using a condom when he came all over Buffy's rear. He slowed his stroking as the spasms subsided and they both collapsed onto the bed and each other.
She shut the door and walked as best she could back to her car and then home.
She'd never told Buffy about it, about how much the intensity of it had excited her. She used the image to masturbate several times that day and for many days after. She even found herself picturing them later when she was having sex with Tara.
She'd forgotten completely about it until something about this stranger in a bar brought it all back.
"…and it's just for tonight and then back to the grind. The new version of Search II is my top priority now."
She snapped back in time to hear him mention one of her favorite software titles and a quick glance showed the right company logo on the plastic badge clipped to his shirt pocket.
"You worked on Search I, that's my favorite program ever, "she said with unfeigned enthusiasm.
"Thanks, "he said, "you with the university library or one of the research labs here? We don't get many individual users Ms. Ah"
Willow realized she'd forgotten to give him her name.
Before she could speak, he continued, "let me guess, he said pointing to the silver W pin on her sweater, her mother had given it to her at high school graduation.
She nodded.
"Winifred, no I don't think so, "he sat back and looked at her for a moment, "I've got it, Wendy like the girl in Peter Pan."
She didn't know why she did it but she was nodding before she even realized it.
"Right, "she said Wendy it is, Wendy Williams."
There it was. She had a last name too. Soon she had a history of sorts as well, single research librarian attending a seminar at UC Sunnydale resident of a small town she knew a little about because she had an aunt who lived there.
They talked about software and the trials and tribulations of 'geek' love.
"Either they understand what I'm talking about and are only interested in work, or they don't and think I'm dull and aren't interested in me."
Willow nodded agreement, "I used to scare them all away, except the ones who were more interested in my databases than me."
They had another drink as they talked, she wasn't high but she liked the warmth the wine gave her. She'd been feeling so cold lately.
The bar began to fill up with patrons from a sports banquet that was being held in the next room. The noise level quickly rose to the point that made all but shouted conversations impossible.
"I'm sorry, "he shouted close to her ear, "I guess we're done, I wish there were some way we could …."
She missed the last few words, but understood what he meant.
"She nodded, "me too, "she tried to make her self heard above the racket.
This time she knew what she was saying and why, "how about your room? We could talk there."
He looked at her as if he wasn't sure of what he heard.
Here was a brief lull as someone tried to introduce one of the local celebrities who's come in from the dinner.
She smiled reassuringly, "if it would be ok with you, we could go back to your room and continue our conversation."
He nodded and she gathered up her things and they headed for the lobby.
She was surprised at her coolness when she asked him to hold the elevator while she popped into the lobby shop. In a matter of moments, she was back, purchase tucked neatly away in her purse; and they entered the elevator together.
He apologized for the mess and spent the first few minutes picking up papers from the desk, chairs and floor and returning them to his large brown leather briefcase. There was a top of the line laptop on the desk, standby light winking.
She excused herself and went into the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face and looked into the mirror.
This isn't like you at all, she thought. This is your last chance, just talk for a while then you can say you're tired and leave. Nice and neat and you won't have made a damn fool of yourself, or worse. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly then opened the door.
"Wendy, would you like something to drink, I can call room service?"
There was a few seconds confusion until she remembered that she was Wendy.
"No nothing for me, thanks, "she said taking a seat next to the desk.
He put down the phone and sat on the bed, "I guess I've had enough too."
They sat in uncomfortable silence, his eyes moved around the room, but never stayed on her.
"This may not have been …" he started, but stopped when she rose and walked toward him. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips and then pulled back giving him a questioning look.
He smiled and gently pulled her down for another kiss. She soon became the aggressor as they kissed. Her tongue was everywhere demanding entrance and then exploring his mouth.
By this time they were on the bed fully dressed. She took his wrist and he pulled back afraid he had done something to frighten her. She smiled reassurance as she placed his hand on her breast where he could feel the pressure of the stiffened nipple.
She reached for his belt and he took her arm.
"I'm sorry Wendy, but I've never .. on a trip like this, I didn't bring anything…"
Willow leaned over and picked up her purse and handed him her last minute purchase.
She was insistent and took the lead, concentrating on every touch and sensation. When he entered her, it was as if her entire world shrunk to just two bodies thrusting and straining. As each wave of pleasure passed over her, she felt a layer of sadness and weariness drop away. She wasn't prepared for the force of her orgasm, it wiped away everything except the feeling of pleasure itself and when she felt him spasm inside her she came again even harder.
They lay together in silence feeling the shared heat of their skin and the gasps of their labored breathing. Tiny shivers of pleasure passed through her, but she knew they weren't finished.
He removed the condom, and she went into the bathroom. She returned with a warm damp wash cloth and washed him thoroughly. Then she leaned down and took him into her mouth. He gasped in surprise and pleasure as she took him deeper and deeper swirling her tongue around the head as he groaned and grew harder.
When he was fully erect, she let him slip from her lips with a soft pop. She moved on hands and knees until she was facing the headboard and then she raised her hips and pressed her face into the pillow.
An hour later, he was asleep. She quickly dressed and opened the door. She turned back when the light came on.
He sat up with a sheet pulled around his waist, "Wendy, tonight was great, I'd like to call you if…"
She shook her head, "I don't have a local phone yet and I don't know where I'll be staying for the next few weeks."
He reached for his jacket and pulled out a card. With a pen from the pocket, he wrote something and held it out to her.
"That's my cell and home numbers, please call, ok?"
She took the card and gave him a soft kiss, "I had a wonderful time too."
In the corridor, she checked her watch. She'd have to make an excuse to Mrs. Edwards, but it wouldn't be so terribly late when she got home.
She crossed the lobby and went through the door into the chill of the night. Pulling her coat around her, she noticed the card she still held in her hand. With a decisive motion, she tore it up and tossed the pieces in the large ashtray outside the hotel doors.
She started back to consciousness; it was an old familiar dream. The memory of the first time she realized what she had to do to make her life livable again regardless of the betrayal and guilt. That's when they'd come to their arrangement.
~Part: 6~
Friday at 4 he thought, four more days. He still lay with his hand across his eyes trying to retain the feeling of being with her as long as possible. He concentrated on how she responded to him. Despite her intention to keep their 'relationship' sterile and impersonal, over the months they'd developed an instinctive rhythm. By now, they fit each other so well that her no speaking or touching directives were unnecessary. They were beyond such things.
On the surface she's probably convinced herself that their silent speed and efficiency were signs of the emotional gulf between them. He knew that they worked so well together only because of the strength of the underlying bond between them.
He'd felt her magnetism for a long time, but he'd blinded himself with a senseless sexual relationship, the more intense the encounters the better. Then, he'd seen her descend from addiction to inexpressible grief and anger to a surrender to all the worst in her. Then he'd watched her struggle for life again and then deal with the consequences of her actions.
Devoting herself to Xander was her way of working off the guilt; it was a voyage from the mistakes of her old life to the beginning of her new one, the kind of journey becoming all too familiar to him. He was a support for her, something to help her survive the journey. He had to do it on her terms, not his. She wasn't the only one in need of redemption.
He remembered her call, she tried to sound cold and businesslike but he could feel the repressed tension. He looked around for a moment; they'd met in this room. He'd knocked and she'd opened the door and pointed to the single chair. She sat ramrod straight on the edge of the bed.
"I have a business proposition for you, "she said without a moment's small talk.
She explained what she wanted in a deliberate monotone. It was as if she had rehearsed it. Maybe she had. At the end, she mentioned a price. That was the most difficult thing to hear her say.
While she was talking, he examined her closely. He detected the tension hidden in her still hands, the bunching of forearm muscles straining for release. There was both sadness and fear in the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. He saw the price she was paying in the dark circles her makeup couldn't completely hide.
When she was finished, he sat silently. His first reaction had been anger. If she didn't know how he really felt, then she was demeaning herself, if she did, she was showing him how little he mattered.
He smoldered while he listened to her rules, no speaking or touching other than what was unavoidable, no other personal contact outside the arrangement and all of it to be bought and paid for in this one mean room.
The irony was that he'd be treated the same way he'd treated so many others over the years. Then he realized what she was doing, and why she had to do it this way or not at all.
Meaningless, cold and mechanical it would only be a physical not emotional betrayal of the promise she'd made. Not the marriage vows they rushed through in the JP's living room, but the vow she'd made to pay for the terrible things she'd done. The unpleasantness, in which it was wrapped, formed its own punishment, guaranteeing the pain she needed to satisfy her sense of justice.
Justice, he thought, if there were any justice in the world, he'd never be able to have her the way he wanted. That's when he decided to agree. It couldn't balance the scales for him, but he could help her.
He rolled up off the bed, how many times had he cursed the day he agreed? As many times as he'd felt the joy of waiting for her to come through that door; as many times as he felt their bond when they made love, despite her rules and as many times as his heart broke when he wanted to hold her and tell her the truth.
He walked to the dresser and swept the bills she'd left into the drawer. They fell in with the rest. He'd never used the money; he didn't even know how much was in the drawer. She didn't realize he'd made his own deal with the hotel to never rent the room to anyone else, most days he spent at least a few hours here.
Friday at 4 Spike thought, four more days.
Epilog
She stood in the empty living room; it seemed forever since she'd been alone.
She didn't know it could end so quickly, in just a matter of hours he was gone. She tried more powerful charms, but nothing worked. At the end, she just held his hand and waited with him.
The next few days were a whirl of arrangements and visitors and ceremonies and sympathy. Everyone was so sympathetic, 'it was for the best I suppose', or 'such a shame he was so young, such a waste' and 'now you have to think about getting on with your own life'.
When they buried the victim, did the crowd try and comfort the killer? Did the judge commute the sentence after the mourning year? That was the great injustice, he was gone and she was here. She was alive and they wanted to help her wipe her tears.
Tears, she thought, where were they? She felt so sad, but not one tear. They all thought she was playing the brave little soldier. They told her to let it go, that she'd feel better. She tried, God knows she tried and she couldn't do it.
She stood by the window and watched as the shadows deepened, lost in her own lonely world.
He'd stayed away, he knew that was the way she'd want it. Stationing himself nearby, he'd seen the steady stream of friends and relatives. It opened and closed around her, but it never touched her. She floated within it as if she were in a bubble. Able to be seen and heard but not touched.
It was over now. It was time. He entered through the back door and came quietly up to her.
Spike slipped his arms around her from behind, "you're not alone and I promise you'll never be again."
She slowly relaxed into his arms as they stood in the silent darkness and she began to cry.
The End