The Good Friend

Author:  GP

Email: gpref@aol.com

Rating:  R

Summary:  Willow needs a friend

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.

Distribution:  If you'd like it ask and I'll let you take it.

Feedback:  Please

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~Part: 1~

He took his usual spot in a dark corner with a good view of the bar.   There a row of women simulated interest as men buzzed around them with the slightly sweaty desperation of the hard core pick up spot.

He kept his focus on the fourth stool from the left.  The red head's crossed legs revealed a great deal of thigh beneath the skimpy leather skirt.  She motioned for another drink as she occasionally nodded to the young man hovering over her.  His face was inches from her ear in deference to the clatter of conversation and the blaring sound system.

~~~*~~~

When she'd arrived back from England, everything had seemed fine.  She was a bit pale and had lost some of her confidence, but she was the old Willow again.

He'd always had a special regard for her, even if he'd never had admitted it to any of the others.

In that moment of exquisite pain when he'd received his soul, that's when he knew he loved her.  He also knew then that the entire episode with Buffy had been just a way to punish himself.  He let her use him and used her in return to prove that love was a lie that sex was all that there was.  With every animal episode, against walls and bent over railings, with every hard and fast ride to mutual release, he proved he wasn't worthy of her.

That love was the one good and strong thing he could focus on throughout the trials the First had put him through.  It pulled him through.

When he was able to rejoin the group, he was upset by the changes he saw in her.

The rest of the group seemed to have moved on to training the young potentials and working on schemes to fight the First.  Maybe that was the way it should have been, but in their preoccupation, they weren't aware of the changes that were taking place.

He pieced together what had happened by quietly questioning the rest of the group and especially Giles.

At first, things went well.  She regained her place in the group, both as chief researcher and witch.  Giles confirmed that the magic overload she'd experienced had essentially burned out her addiction.  Her control hadn't faltered once in public.  In her private life, they were pleased that she was 'moving on' with a budding relationship with the potential named Kennedy.  So they all went about their daily tasks confident that Willow was Willow again and all was right with the world.  They didn't see the increasing restlessness, the difficulty in concentrating and the gradual pattern of isolation, but he did.

Then one afternoon, he was walking down the hall when he thought he heard her voice.  Straining his sensitive hearing, he located her in Giles temporary office.  He tiptoed down the corridor and stopped just before the doorway.  The door was partially open and he could see the interior reflected in the mirror across the hall.  She wasn't alone.

"Kennedy, we need to talk, "she said in a flat tone.

Willow had her hands on the other girl's shoulders and Kennedy's were draped around Willow's hips.

"Why so serious Will?" Kennedy said with a grin.

"You're a wonderful person and a beautiful girl, "Willow said in a strained voice, "these last few weeks have been great."

Kennedy dropped her hands, "I hear a but coming, a but bigger than…than.... I can't think of anything funny to say, "she said the smile fading from her face, "I'm too scared."

"I'm sorry Kennedy, maybe it's too soon for me.  It's not you believe me." Willow said before breaking into tears.

Kennedy put her arms around her.  She patted her back and whispered, "It's OK, Will everything's going to be OK."

He noticed her cringe from the embrace just for an instant.  After a moment, she pushed herself away.

"I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, it's just….I don't deserve …."  She stumbled back and sat down awkwardly on a small upholstered chair.

Kennedy took a step toward her," Willow was it last night?  Sometimes my hands wander little and … we could start over and take it slow…"

Willow began to sob in earnest and without another word got up and brushed past the other girl and out of the room.

She didn't see him as she rushed by him and up the stairs.

He stepped into the hall and peeked into the room.

Kennedy was seated stiffly on the same chair her body trembling and eyes screwed shut as tears ran down her cheeks.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked softly.

She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, "I loved her, I don't know ……." Then the tears started again.

That's when he decided to keep an eye on her when she was away from the group.

The first thing he realized was how much time she was spending alone.  She always took her research assignments to her room and avoided other group activities with a variety of excuses.

Regardless of what she said, she spent most of the time in her room.  She'd sit for hours in the dim glow of the small bedside lamp, motionless eyes fixed on the blank wall in front of her.

~Part: 2~

A few nights later, he was sitting under a tree on the front lawn smoking when he thought he saw something move in her darkened room.  He tossed away his cigarette and stood straining for any unusual sounds.  In a few moments he heard the back door open.  He rushed around the house just in time to see a figure hurrying across the back yard.  His night vision showed it to be a girl in a mini skirt and cropped t-shirt.  He relaxed, one of the potentials breaking training, out for a drink or a little bit of the other, he thought to himself.

He lit another cigarette and looked back at the house, but his conscience kept nagging.  What if it were one of the really young ones, or …., he thought with a shiver, what if it's Dawn?

"Bloody hell," he muttered as he tossed the butt and turned to follow the figure he could just make out between the bushes.  "They'll just be pissed if something happens to one of the little bints."

He closed up to within a half block and tried to identify the hurrying figure.  A few moments later, she passed under a street lamp.  Spike stopped dead at the flash of red hair. Then he started again, a concerned look on his face.

That was the first time he followed her to the club.  He watched her walk slowly through the crowd taking in the singles bar dynamic.  She sat at a table and nursed one drink.  A combination of body language and one word answers served to fend off the occasional man.

After an hour or so, she left as quietly as she came.  He followed her home.

A few days later, she repeated the trip.  This time he was keeping a closer watch and easily followed her.  She drank a bit more and mingled with the crowd and stayed longer this time.  When they neared home, he hurried ahead and waited in the shadows under a tree in the yard.

She was abreast of him and about six feet away when he stepped out.

"Taking the air luv?"

She stopped with a gasp, "Spike, I didn't see you there."

"Just having a last fag, "he said holding up a cigarette.

"I was just taking a walk around the neighborhood; I thought I heard something and …"

His eyes lingered over the skimpy t-shirt and leather mini and she blushed.

"I better get going, "she said.

"Sure you don't want to stay and keep me company?" he asked.

She shook her head and hurried toward the back door.

He tossed the half smoked cigarette into the night and slowly shook his head.

All that week, he tried to talk to her.  At first, she smiled and made excuses, by the end of the week, she avoided him completely.

That Friday, she made it up to the bar and he settled uneasily in a dark corner.

~~~*~~~

He watched as she downed several margaritas and engaged in smiling conversations with several men.  He prickled as he watched her accept drinks and laugh with the donors.

She spent a good deal of time and laughter on a tall blond character in a designer leather jacket.  When he ordered another round and excused himself and headed for the men's room, Spike crossed the room to intercept him.

Just as Spike reached him, the man stopped to talk with two others.

"Hey Scott, what's up?" one of them asked.

Scott, the tall blond grinned and gestured toward the bar, "see the skinny twat with the red hair?"

The other two nodded.

"In the bag, " he said, " she's so wasted, I could probably get a blow job in the parking lot right now, but I'm gonna really party tonight."

He stepped closer to the two and gestured for them to come nearer, "she'll be ready for anything tonight, come by my place tonight about midnight.  We'll all have a good time."

They all shared a nasty laugh as Spike listened and his eyes flashed gold with anger.

Spike followed Scott to the restroom door; he waited for a few moments then opened the door a crack.  He looked in; Scott was standing in front of the mirror.  His pants were open and he was tucking in his shirt tails.  Spike scanned the room and didn't see anyone else.

He slid inside and flipped off the light. Moving at vampire speed, he grabbed the confused man and shoved him face first over the trash can.  He ripped down his pants and shorts and put a forearm heavily across his shoulders.

Spike let him struggle for a moment, then put his mouth close to his ear.

"Big man are you now?  Kiss the girls and made them cry?"

Spike could feel the fear radiating from him, "I don't think so, I think you're a Nancy boy I do."

"Please don't hurt me," Scott managed to get out.

"Just remember how it feels to be defenseless, to be the one without the power."

"Please."

"Keep your eyes closed and count to fifty, do you understand?"

The man nodded.

Spike straightened up as he listened to the hoarse voice counting.  In two strides he was through the door.

"Hey," he said to the two men standing against the wall. "Your mate wants you to come in, he's got something for you," he said reaching back and flipping on the light.

He smiled to himself as the two brushed by him. His smile disappeared as he scanned the bar, she was gone.

Spike ignored the commotion coming from the men's room and made a quick circuit of the club, he didn't see her anywhere.

He crossed to the bar and found the bartender.  She was a thirtyish blond who handled the drinks and the drunks with the same quiet competence.

"Can I get you something?" she asked him.

"Yeah, did you see what happened to the red head that was sitting two stools over?"

"Listen, the customers don't talk about me and I return the compliment, what can I get you?"

Spike stepped closer and gripped her right wrist, he applied some pressure, "I just need the information luv."

Her expression never changed but she gave a tiny nod to her left.  His eyes followed and he saw the small spray bottle in her hand.

"You're gonna let go and step back unless you want a face full of Father O'Hara's best," she said in a low voice.

He did as he was instructed, 'so you knew .."

"What you are, 'she finished his thought.  "Yeah, I've been tending bar in Sunnydale for the last 10 years; there isn't much I haven't seen.  To be honest, I'll take a couple of you boys over most of the bikers I've run into, 'she said with half smile.   "By the way, my name is Rose."

"Spike,' he said with a nod.  "Can you tell me where she's gone?"

"First tell me what your interest is."

"She's a friend, "he saw her skeptical look, "really, she's a friend and I'm worried about her."

"I would if I were her friend that much I know.  She's an unhappy lady and she's not going to find what she's looking for among these bottom feeders, "she gestured at the crowd of desperate men milling around the room.

"But how do I know I can trust you?  She might just be tonight's entrée, for all I know."

"If she were, would I be willing to do this?"

He put out his right hand.  She flinched and raised the spray bottle.  He stopped at her throat and slowly closed his hand over the crucifix that hung around her next.

Smoke began to curl out of his fist.  "Please, where did she go?" he asked in a strained voice.

She took his wrist and pushed his hand away, "she left with a yuppie creep named Larry, I heard him mention the Blue Star Motel on fourth."

"Car?"

"Silver BMW, what else?"

He turned and headed for the door.

"Hey blondie, ' she called, " come around again when you're not rescuing fair maidens."

"He stopped and smiled, "I will," he said as he started again for the door.

Rose shook her head, she'd seen the look in his eyes, she was momentarily jealous of the little red head.

~Part: 3~

Spike knew the place; it was one step above a room by the hour joint. He ran through alleys and across empty lots until he spotted the washed out neon blue of the motel sign.

He looked into the office and recognized the night clerk.  Cabbies and night clerks were some of the people he shared his world with; he thought for a moment then opened the door.

“Spike, what’s up?” the bald man with the neatly trimmed beard asked.

“Flip, long time, “he replied offering him a cigarette.

They smoked in silence for a few moments.  Then the clerk gave him an inquiring look.

“Yuppie named Larry, silver beamer, “Spike said.

“Yeah, he took room 32 this afternoon.  Most weekends he takes a room Friday night and Saturday.”

Spike raised his eyebrows.

“He’s a real horn dog, brings ‘em here, I think he still lives with Mama.”

They both smiled.

The squeal of tires pulled Spike to the window.  He watched a silver BMW race through the lot and screech to a halt in front of unit 32.

Larry popped from the driver’s side with a brown paper bag in his hand.  You couldn’t disguise the shape of a liquor bottle.  He opened the passenger side door and she got out, a little shaky on her feet.  He put an arm around her and led her to the door.

Spike let go an involuntary growl.

At the sound, Flip looked up.  When he saw the look on Spike’s face, he decided that the towels in the storeroom needed immediate counting.  He picked up a clip board from the desk and disappeared through a narrow door, closing it behind him.

Spike looked over at the sound of the closing door.  He reached over the counter and took the extra key for 32 from the wall rack and then headed across the parking lot toward the silver car.

When he was within a few yards, the door opened and Larry came out carrying a plastic ice bucket.

Holding the door open, he looked back into the room, “make your self comfortable, I’ll be right back,” he said pulling the door shut.

Spike fell into step behind him.  Larry gave him a glance and then looked straight ahead as they headed toward the ice and soda machines at the end of the building near the pool.

“Not a half bad place,” Spike said casually.

“Yeah, ‘Larry grunted as they reached the machines.

Spike pulled on the heavy padlock and chain that fastened the gate to the pool area, “not much chance for a midnight swim I reckon.”

Larry didn’t reply as he placed the bucket under the ice chute.

“You in number 32?” Spike asked.

Larry looked up as he pushed the button for ice, “what of it?”

“You’re right; it’s just a story anyway.”

“What’s a story, “Larry asked with a puzzled frown.

“The way I heard it, “Spike began,” there was this lad who brought a bird back to that room.  You know the kind, all mini skirt up to there and tight shirt.”

The other man grinned and nodded as the ice began to slowly clatter into the bucket.

“Well this bird decides all of a sudden that she’s not up for it; all a big mistake and the like.  What a nerve, after leading him on.  The little red headed teaser, he couldn’t let her get away with that, could he?”

“Did you say red head?” Larry asked.

Spike paused for a moment, “maybe a blond …. No I think she was a red head, definitely a red head.”

Spike continued, “you know what the bloke had to do, right?  Just what you’d do.  Maybe he was a little rough, but nothing she didn’t deserve, that’s what he told her anyway.  After, he even sent her off in a cab, and then he took a little kip.  That was his mistake.”

Larry was hanging on every word ignoring the ice falling onto the cement from the full bucket.

Spike lit a cigarette and exhaled a silver cloud into the floodlit glare.

“You see, this bird had a kind of guardian angel, a good bit more of a guardian than an angel to be honest.  This guardian chap, he took exception to what this Gary had done.”

“His name was Gary?”

Spike ran a finger across his chin, “Gary, Gary …no I tell a lie, it was Larry that was it.”

“He took exception to what this Larry had done.  I guess he had some twisted idea of an eye for an eye, so he fixed it so that Larry would never do a thing like that again.”

“They say when they found him the ambulance blokes had to toss up.”

Spike lowered his voice and leaned closer, “it took’em a half hour to find it they say.”

Larry blanched, “you mean he cut off his …”

Spike shook his head,” not cut, did it with his bare hands.  Do you know how strong you’d have to be to do that?”

The now sweating and trembling man shook his head.

Spike took the loose end of the heavy chain looped around the gate in his hand,” very strong, “he said as he broke the eight inch length off with a snap of his wrist.

Larry flinched as Spike laid the cold metal across his shoulder.

“I think it would be a very good idea if you went home to Mum right now.  I’d stay there tomorrow night too, if I were you, “Spike said in a soft voice.

Larry walked stiffly to his car and drove away.

A few moments later, Spike stood outside the motel room door.  He dropped his cigarette and ground it out on the sidewalk, and then put the key in the lock and pushed open the door.

“Where have you been?” a voice called out as the door opened.

It was only his vampire reflexes that let him snatch out of the air the object aimed at his head.  He slowly unfolded his fingers and stared for a moment and then held up a pair of black lace panties.

~Part: 4~

Spike glanced quickly at the source of the lacey missile and was relieved to see that Willow was sitting on the bed fully clothed.

Well except for these, he thought shoving the formerly flying lingerie into his coat pocket.

"Harry, where have you been?  D'ja go to the freaking North Pole for ice?" Willow called out.

She was staring as he closed the door seeming to have some difficulty in focusing.

He stepped closer, "luv, I think your little friend remembered a previous engagement"

"Spikey is that you?" she asked her body swaying slightly side to side as she tried to take in this new development.

Poor bint, he thought to himself as he took in the heavy make up and the short skirt and the tight t-shirt.  What's happened to you?

"Wait a minute," she said with exaggerated deliberation, "Harry's gone, after all this, "she made a sweeping gesture and nearly fell of the bed.

"I sat in that yuppie meat market to get dumped in a second rate motel, 'she went on her face so red it was almost glowing.

"Calm down red, "he said sitting next to her and putting an arm across her shoulders.

"He wasn't much to miss out on believe me, and it was Larry luv, not Harry."

"Larry, Harry, who the hell cares, I just wanted to get laid and now …."

He slid away a few inches taken aback by her outburst.  Bloody hell, he thought, what is her problem, what could have pushed her this far?

She took a few deep breaths and her color began to fade.  She tilted her head and looked at him in an unsettling way.

She slid over until her thigh was pressed up against his.  She ran a finger lightly down his arm.

"Harry may be gone, but Spikey is still here, 'she said in a sing song voice while gazing up at him.

"Would Spikey like to play a game?  I bet you'd like it too," she continued.

He was feeling more and more uncomfortable especially now that he noticed her skirt starting to ride up as she tried to force herself even closer.

"Ok luv, but first let's get comfy, "he said turning and rolling to the other side of the bed being careful to pull the covers over with him.  His new position forced her to swing her legs up onto the bed to stay next to him.  As soon as she was settled, he deftly flipped the sheet back to cover her from the waist down.

She pressed into his side and put her lips close to his ear, "Spike do you want to …fuck?"

He could feel how much effort it had taken for her to say it and how hard she was struggling against her own true nature, why was she doing this to herself?

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, "I don't think this is the right time or place for us to get involved like that," he said gently.

There was something new in her eyes, not disappointment, not relief but a weary sadness as if she had expected his no.

"I could do something else, "she said making one last effort.

She lowered her head toward his lap, but he took her shoulders again and gently pushed her back.

"I'm sure it would be bloody marvelous, but no."

She shook his hands off and slumped back against the head board and closed her eyes.

At first, he thought the alcohol had finally gotten to her.  Then she began to tremble.
It started as faint tremors then it turned into uncontrolled shivering then her body was convulsed as she was wracked with sobs.

He held her as the tears flowed untouched down her cheeks.  He didn't say a word.
Finally she relaxed exhausted into his arms.  She was drawing in loud ragged breaths, but the tears had stopped.

Spike lowered her back against the head board.  He scanned the room and spotted the bottle Larry had brought.  It was brandy, not the best, but it would do.

He poured an inch of brandy into a plastic cup.  He put it in her hand and helped her raise it to her lips.

"Here, drink some of this, it'll make you feel better."

When she was finished, he gave her another half inch, "sip on this luv and I'll be back in a minute.

He stepped into the bathroom and she heard running water.

"Let me have that, "he said taking the empty cup.  Then he used the towels and wash cloth he'd taken from the bathroom to scrub her face.

He stood back, "that's much better, "he said looking again at the face he knew so well.

He poured them each a little brandy and sat on the floor next to the bed.  He took her hand.

He sat quietly and waited.

"Thank you, "she said in a hoarse voice.

He squeezed her hand.

"Why do they always leave me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Xander after all those years, first it was Buffy then Anya.  Then Oz, I loved him so much.  He was so kind and gentle.  Then he was gone.  Everyone said it was for me, so we could be safe together.  We should have tried some other way, any other way."

She took a deep breath and then a sip of brandy.

"Then Tara, I didn't understand what was happening.  Before I knew it I had to make a decision and I lost Oz again, but this time forever."

"Tara though, she made it all worthwhile.  Or at least I told myself she did.  I threw every thing I had into our relationship, I had to, I'd paid so much for it."

"Then she did it too, she was gone."

He stroked her arm, "and you think it was all your fault don't you."

"I can't take it any more; I won't let it happen again."

"Kennedy?"

She didn't answer.

"You broke up with her before she could do the same thing, didn't you."

"I couldn't take it, not again.  It'll be better this way."

He took a sip of brandy, "and all this, "he gestured at the surroundings, "will this make it better?"

"I thought if I didn't care then it wouldn't hurt."

He put his cup down and got to his knees and faced her, " luv, you have to learn, it's only worth it if you're willing to be hurt.  You have to surrender that part of you that's most easily hurt.  That's what love is."

"Promise me," he said taking both of her hands, "promise that you won't give up; that when you find someone, you'll take that chance again."

After a few moments, she nodded.

He held her hands until she fell asleep.

~Epilog~

It was late the next afternoon when she opened her eyes.  The smell of fresh coffee had brought her around.

"Ah sleeping beauty awakes, "Spike said as he fiddled with the coffee maker on the dresser.

She tried to sit up and grimaced at the pain that shot through her head.

"Who is this Margarita and can we have her killed?" she said hoarsely.

"Tooth bush and tooth paste are in the bathroom along with a giant sized bottle of aspirin."

She ran her tongue over her teeth and made a face, "bless you Spike."

She started to get up and then froze.  She put a hand under the covers and her cheeks started to burn.

"Under the pillow, "he said before turning to pour himself a cup of coffee.

She slipped her underpants on and padded to the bathroom.

Later, they sat on the bed facing one another, " Krispy Kreme, nothing but the best, "he said handing her a bag.

Her eyes lit up, "William I think I love you."

As she took a huge bite of donut, he thought, someday red someday.

END

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