Email: Inell@aol.com
Disclaimer: Joss owns them all
Distribution: My site, Kiss or Kill, http://members.fortunecity.com/kissorkill Anyone that has permission, take. Otherwise, just ask.
Rating: R
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Feedback is mandatory. Hit reply and tell me what you think.
Spoilers: Possible for anything through Season 7 Episode 2. Doubtful, but I wanted to give a warning J
Notes: A short little treat. Enjoy.
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~Part: 1~
Willow entered the bar, her green eyes looking around cautiously as she made her way past the many strangers littering the dance floor. She finally made it to the small collection of tables at the back where, thankfully, it was dark. She sat down, sighing as she ran a hand through her hair. It was now past her shoulders by several inches, longer than she could remember having it since high school. She needed to go get it cut. The last few months had been rather hectic, with going to England and then coming back. Her hair had been the last thing on her mind. Now, though, sitting by herself in this dark, depressing bar, she realized that it must look awful. Beauty hadn’t been on her list of priorities lately either. After all, who did she have to look beautiful for? Tara had been gone for nearly five months now, and no one else had gotten past her wall of reserve to get that close. She’d decided that it was much safer to not let anyone in, to not care about someone more than you cared about yourself. Doing so always seemed to mean ending up alone and hurt. Or, in her case, a murderer.
She looked up as a woman, or what she assumed was a female, approached her table. The demon looked her over, obviously checking for signs that made it safe for her to be in this particular club. Seemingly satisfied, the demon took her order, not blinking at all when the pretty redhead ordered a bottle of whiskey and a cup. Willow looked back at the surface of the table, wondering why she felt guilty for being there. She deserved a bit of a break, didn’t she? She had been studying for months, getting control of the magic that she could still feel throughout her entire body, she’d been accepted back into the fold by her best friends, though she would still catch them watching her as if they expected her to crack at any moment. In fact, that had been what brought her to the club that night. There had been a demon, they ’d all fought it, she’d used magic…just a little and it was done properly, but Buffy and Xander had seemed to freak, as they had every other time she’d had to use a little magic since returning from England. They wanted her to get control of it, weren’t above using it to save themselves, but still acted as if she were dangerous. They just couldn’t have it both ways and it was becoming so stressful that Willow really just needed to get drunk. She had no one to talk to, no one that could understand, so she’d decided to do a little talking to Jim B.
What made it worse, in her opinion, was that she couldn’t even blame them. She had killed a man. No, it hadn’t even just been a simple killing. She had tortured him then killed him in a very painful way. She’d tried to kill them all, had nearly succeeded in fact. She still couldn’t understand why they had welcomed back, how they could look at her with friendship and love knowing what she really was, what she had done. Every day, she wondered if she was going to wake up to find that it was all just a dream and that she really was in some mystical prison Giles had created for her. Living with the fear every day that her friends would suddenly turn on her, that she would lose the only thing keeping her going. That scared her. She seemed okay, but what if….Her thoughts were stopped by the demon waitress putting the bottle and glass on the table. Willow opened the bottle, pouring a full glass of whiskey, pushing away doubts and guilt as she took a long sip. She started to cough, not realizing that it was quite so powerful.
"Smaller sips, pet. Doesn’t hurt as bad," a quiet voice said from behind her.
Willow turned, eyes widening as she caught blue eyes on her. She hadn’t seen much of Spike since she returned. Well, she had seen him, but they hadn’t really spent hours catching up. She knew about the soul, knew that Buffy thought he might be slightly insane because of it, knew that the slayer cared more than she admitted but not in the way the vampire probably wished. She nodded at him, admitting softly, "I kind of want it to hurt."
Spike seemed to accept her answer, blue eyes looking at the empty chair before looking back at the redhead. He had been sitting at the bar when he had felt her. To say he had been surprised to find the slayer’s little witch in a place like this was an understatement. Of course, he didn’t really know her anymore. Up until the last year, he had to confess that one of his favorite hobbies was studying the witch. He’d watch her, follow her, just try to figure out who she was. She intrigued him, always had. Then, last year, all that mess with Buffy had happened and he’d forgotten about his redhead. He had to wonder now what would have been different if he hadn’t, could he have changed things. Looking in her eyes, seeing the hardened guilt, recognizing it all too well, he felt a twinge of loss for her innocence. Poor girl would never be the same.
Willow could feel him watching her, an action that was all too familiar. She finally looked up at him, asking, "Would you like to sit, Spike?"
He gave her a small smile, seeming to be pleased by her request, before he moved the chair, sitting down and putting his own bottle of whiskey on the table. "So, what brings a tasty little treat like you to a place like this?"
Willow felt a smile reluctantly crossing her lips at his words, "A tasty treat?"
He shrugged, apologizing, "Sorry, Red. I’ve not done this in awhile."
"Not done what?" she asked, clearly puzzled as she took a smaller sip from her glass.
"Flirted with a pretty girl in a dark corner of a club,:" he said, watching in amazement as her face flushed at his words. After all she had been through, all she had done, she was still able to be embarrassed by a compliment. He found himself relaxing for the first time in longer than he could remember, the voices in his head quiet for once.
"Is that we’re doing?" she asked as she took another longer drink from her glass. She arched a brow at him, "Why are you here, Spike?"
"Wanted to drown the voices and the faces," he said in nearly a whisper. "Making me insane, they are. Not sure what’s real and what’s not. Thought a bit of whiskey might let me get lost for a bit."
Willow nodded, a bit surprised that he had been honest with her, but understanding what he was talking about. She took another drink, getting a bit more courage before she reached over and touched his hand. She watched him look at her in surprise, his eyes cautious. She smiled at him, "I’m real, Spike. I came here because I’m lonely and I wanted to forget for a night. Why did you always watch me?"
Spike was surprised at her question, choking on his whiskey as he coughed. He made no move to remove her hand from his, rather enjoying the feeling of being touched. It had been so long since someone had touched him like that. With Buffy, it had been rough and wild and all about the sex. That’s all he could get from her, so he’d done his best to enjoy it. Then, he’d attacked her like some animal and lost the only intimate contact he had in his life. His eyes flashed with pain as he put the bottle down, his free hand closing over Willow’s as he said huskily, "I don’t know, Red. I didn’t know that you knew. I hope I didn’t scare you or anything."
Willow looked away, admitting, "I wasn’t scared. I was just wondering, thought since we were being honest and all, you might tell me."
"I’m fascinated by you," he finally said. "Was before Peaches lost the soul, was after. Did you know about that? Know how I followed after you during those months, watching you with that mutt. After I came back, I don’t know. I fell back into the same routine, I guess."
"I didn’t know back then," she said, taking another drink before refilling her glass. Why had she asked? Now, she was even more confused than before. And he was still holding her hand, his fingers moving over her flesh in a way that was sending tremors to places that shouldn’t be affected. "You love Buffy."
He sighed, "I thought I did, yeah. I wanted her, wanted to shag her, wanted to make her happy. She never wanted me. She used me, and I let her. Can’t blame her, for not wanting me. I’m a monster. Never would have worked. I care for her, Red. Hard to explain, hard to understand."
She gave him a small smile, "I think I understand. It’s that way with me and Xander. All these years, and I still love him so much, just not in the same way. He saved me, saved us all. I think he misses Anya and is still in love with Buffy. It never would have worked for us, but he still means so much to me. I know it’s not the exact same as your thing with Buffy, but it’s kind of close."
He watched as she took another drink, noticing that her second glass was nearly empty. Her eyes were shining and she was flushed. He smiled, "Red, I think you might want to stop now. You don’t want to get drunk. Trust me on that, luv."
"I do trust you, Spike. I always have," she said as she smiled. "But, I want to get drunk. I want to forget everything for one night. I want to sleep tonight without having to watch Tara die, without having to see Warren’s face as I tortured him, without having to hear his screams, without seeing the faces of my friends as I tried to kill them. I want to forget it all….just for tonight."
Spike could feel her fingernails dig into his hand as she spoke, having hear rumors but not having any definite idea what had happened to the little witch when he had left. Again, he felt a flash of guilt. He hated this soul, had no idea how it worked, wished he had paid more attention to Angel’s whining when he’d first gotten his, wondered if there might be an instruction book somewhere. He looked at her, realizing that she looked older, but hadn‘t changed as much as he had first thought. The innocence was still there, in the back of her eyes, if he looked deep enough. He gave her a smile as he moved his hand, holding up his glass to hers and saying, "Bottom’s up, Red."
~Part: 2~
"Hmm…you smell good."
"You’re drunk, luv," Spike said as the tiny redhead moved closer to him.
"But you still smell good," Willow said as she smiled up at him. "Like leather and tobacco and fruit."
"Fruit?" he arched a brow, giving her a look. "I do not smell like fruit."
She giggled, the alcohol making her more daring than she had ever felt, "Do too. Like apples." She put her hand on his neck, bring his head down as she inhaled, "and vanilla."
He turned his head, finding their faces far too close. He could smell the whiskey on her breath, new if he moved just slightly he could be kissing her senseless. He moved her hand and raised his head, knowing that this was such a bad idea. He didn’t even have to have a soul to know that. He was lonely, had enjoyed sitting and talking with Willow for reasons that went beyond his attraction to her. Tonight, they had been friends. He wanted to keep that, needed a friend. Now, she was smelling him and touching him and flirting in ways that would have shocked her if she hadn’t been drunk. And if she kept it up, he wasn’t going to be able to resist kissing her, soul be damned. Somehow, he doubted it would end with kissing. Visions of shagging the redhead clouded his mind as he groaned, his hand covering his face as he counted to ten.
"Spike, do you want me?"
Surprised, he looked at her, "Red, you drank nearly an entire bottle of whiskey. Why don’t you ask me that again when you’re sober and ready to deal with my answer?"
"I like that," she whispered, her hand moving to touch his face. "You look at me, in my eyes. They never do anymore. It’s like they’re afraid of what they might see in my eyes. What do you see, Spike? Am I evil?"
"Far from it, luv," he said. "And I’ve seen them with you, Red. They love you a lot. They’re not scared of you. I just don’t think they know how to act, how you want them to act. To be such a little group of sharers, none of you are talking about it. You don’t need to get lost in a bottle of whiskey, Willow. You need to talk to them, like you and I talked tonight. Let them know that you’re scared. It will only help, in the end."
"Attractive and smart," she said after considering his words. "Why did Buffy let you go?"
"Wouldn‘t know, Red," he said with a wry smile. "She and I never spent much time talking."
"Not like me and you, huh?" she asked, giving him a wide smile as she took a wobbly step. She grabbed his arm as she said, "Wow, everything is spinning. I don’t think I like this."
"Told you so," he said with a slight smile.
"No one likes a smart ass," she said with a playful glare as she again fell against him.
"Guess I better get used to being alone, then," he said with a smirk.
"Nope, you’ve got me now," she said as she rested her head against his shoulder. "I’m not going anywhere."
"Until tomorrow when you sober up and forget everything about tonight," he said quietly, hating that idea.
"I’ll never forget tonight, Spike," she said softly. She sighed as she said, "You want to know something funny?"
"What?" he asked as they walked towards her house. He really hoped that Buffy was already asleep. While it was true that he had had enough time to think and realize that they hadn’t been a good match, it was still rather painful to see her.
"I wanted to get drunk tonight, to forget everything, but I was too scared to just do it," she whispered. He stopped walking, turning to look at her expectantly. "So I performed this little spell before I left, to keep me sober no matter how much alcohol I had."
"You’re sober," he said in disbelief.
She looked at him, then, her green eyes guilty and worried, "Yeah, I am."
"Why did you want me to think you were drunk?" he asked, having an idea why she might have been lying, but needing to hear it from her own lips.
"I was scared that you might leave me," she confessed softly. "I want you, Spike. I don’t understand it, can’t begin to pretend that it makes sense, but being with you tonight felt right. For the first time in months, I’ve felt happy and wanted and trusted. I didn’t want that feeling to end. I’m sorry I lied," she drifted off as she looked at the sidewalk.
"You asked me a question earlier," he reminded, his eyes narrowing as she looked at him, clearly trying to remember her question. "The answer is yes."
"Yes?" she searched her mind, trying to remember what question he might be answering, she’d asked so many under the guise of being drunk.
"Willow, what am I going to do with you?" he asked with a smile as he pulled her against him, his mouth finding hers as she realized the question he was answering. He wanted her.
~Part: 3~
Willow moaned against his mouth as he kissed her, her body flush against his. She could feel his erection against her tummy, giving no doubts to his desire for her. She hadn’t been lying. She didn’t really understand this. Sure, she’ d had a crush on Spike before. What normal female wouldn’t? He was gorgeous and smart and witty and so many other things that it would be impossible not to want him. She’d had Tara, though. He’d become a private fantasy for her, helped along when she had realized that he had been following her and watching her. Then, she’d found out about his relationship with Buffy and she’ d lost Tara not once but twice. Even now, she loved Tara. Was it too soon to be moving on? It had been less than six months. She felt his tongue possess her mouth and whimpered as she moved closer to him, rubbing against his body as all logic and normal thought left her mind.
"You taste so good," he muttered when he finally pulled his mouth free. He ran his hands over her face, whispering, "I need you, Willow. I want you so bloody much."
"We can’t go back to my place," Willow said, kissing his fingers as she reminded him, "Buffy will be there."
"I’ve been living under the high school. I don’t even have a proper bed," he cursed. "I’m not taking you against the tree like some animal."
"I have some money. We can get a room," she said as she leaned up and kissed him, her hands moving over his back to caress his ass. "I want you inside me, Spike."
"If you keep doing that, we won’t make it to the hotel," he warned as he kissed her back. First thing tomorrow, he was going to find an apartment. Second thing, he was going to buy a huge bed. Third, he was going to shag Willow senseless in the new bed in his new apartment.
"We’d better hurry then," she said as she kissed the side of his mouth. "Or I might be taking *you* against a tree."
"Witch," he said as he kissed her again, this time his hand moving up to cup her breast. He squeezed as he attacked her mouth, his cock feeling like it was going to explode. He felt one of her hands squeeze his ass as the other pulled his head down. "Oh God," Willow moaned as she tore her mouth from his. "Stop, Spike. We can’ t do this here, on the sidewalk."
"Why not?" he asked as he took her nipple between his fingers and twisted slightly. He watched as she gasped, her eyes turning the most beautiful shade of green.
"Because, I want to feel you, all of you. If we don’t stop now, it’s just going to be a fuck. I want more than that," she said quietly. "I thought you did too."
"I do, Red," he sighed as he pulled away from her. "It seems like I’ve been waiting for so long, I just don’t want to let you go. I don’t want you to disappear on me."
"I told you, Spike. I’m real. I’m not going anywhere," she said.
He kissed her again, briefly before taking her hand and starting down the street. They hadn’t gone far before he stopped, looking at her, "Um, Red."
"Yeah?" she asked, wondering if it was crazy to be going off to have sex with Spike.
"Where’s a hotel?" he asked sheepishly.
She looked at him and started to laugh, "Follow me, Romeo."
~Part: 4~
Willow slowly woke up, snuggling closer to Spike as she opened her eyes. She moved her head, catching him looking at her. She smiled softly, ignoring her aching muscles as she kissed him, "Morning."
"Afternoon," he corrected with a smile. "I got the room for a second night, so we wouldn’t have to leave yet. Pesky sun and all that."
She covered a yawn as she moved her hand over his chest, tracing the scratches she had made. "Good. I don’t feel like getting out of bed yet."
"Quite the little wildcat," he said with amusement as he watched her fingers outline the marks she had made. He had scratches and bites over his body, finding it decidedly erotic to have her wanting to mark him. He felt his cock stirring and wondered if she was still sore. She had been so tight, admitting later that he was much thicker than the mutt. By the early morning, she had begun to adjust to his size, taking him easily as they had mated.
"Only with you," she admitted. With Tara and Oz, sex had been sweet and nice. With Spike, it had been rough and urgent and mind blowing. She’d never experienced anything like it. They’d made love six times, the first time the fastest. They’d been so turned on by the time they had their room that it hadn ’t taken long for their clothes to hit the floor and for him to be buried deep inside her. The second time had immediately followed, slow and torturous and amazing. They’d had a shower then, her calling Buffy while Spike had been in the bathroom, telling her friend she wouldn’t be home, being honest and confessing who she was with. Buffy had seemed happy for them both, telling her to be careful and that they’d talk the next day. She’d gone to the shower then, finding that it could be rather fun to have sex while standing up. The other times blurred after that. They’d napped off and on, her waking up to find Spike looking at her like he was now and the next thing she knew, they’d be kissing. He’d given her control the entire time, something that meant a lot to her. He hadn’t tried to rush her or push her into doing anything. She’d had the freedom to play and have fun and explore different ideas. It had been wonderful and, judging by the look of arousal in his eyes, it wasn’t over. She’d gotten a bit wild, she knew, but she didn’t care. He didn’t judge her, nor did she judge him. He gave her something she couldn’t understand, a courage of sorts. She was able to be herself, good and bad, and not worry that he wouldn’t accept her. He did accept her. She didn’t deserve to have someone look at her like he did, but she wasn’t stupid. It was probably too soon after losing Tara, too fast to move on, but she was ready. Spike made her feel wanted and beautiful and she wasn’t going to lose that because of fear.
"I’m glad," he said as his eyes closed slightly. Her hand had moved from his chest down his flat stomach to his cock, her warm hand making him harden. "Red…"
Willow laughed as she leaned forward, her tongue moving over his nipple. "I love the feel of you, Spike. I love your scent, the way you look at me, the way you cry my name when you cum, the way you taste, the way you make me feel."
"If you stop doing that, I can think of something romantic and poetic to say," he said as she began to stroke him.
"You don’t need words, Spike. Your eyes tell me everything I need to know," she said as she ran her tongue over his neck.
"I think I love you, Willow," he whispered, getting ready for her to laugh and tell him how stupid he was to think she could ever love him.
She looked at him in surprise, her hand stopping its motion as she sat there in shock. Had he really said he loved her? Was she hearing things? It was too soon. Last night was the first time they’d even spent a long time talking. How could he love her? He knew what she had done, what she was capable of doing. Yet, his eyes were sincere. What was she supposed to say? Looking into his eyes, she suddenly knew. It all became clear. She slowly smiled, "I could love you, Spike."
"Really?" he smiled, catching her face and kissing her before she could take the words back.
Willow finally broke free, laughing as she sat up in bed. She knew he was ready, having stroked him to erection. The wetness between her thighs was evident as she got on her knees. With an impish smile, she teasingly said, "Bottom’s up, Spike."
He flashed to the evening the night before, laughing as he got out from under the covers, kneeling behind her as he again caught her mouth in a kiss. He entered her smoothly from behind, catching her cry as he went even deeper than before. Gradually, he started to move, one hand holding her hip, the other kneading her breast. Soon, she was bucking against him, crying out in pleasure as his movements increased in speed. He followed her into release, falling to the bed, taking her with him. He stayed buried inside her tight warmth as he whispered against her hair, "Love you, Red."
Willow smiled sleepily at his words, bring his hand to her mouth and placing a soft kiss against his palm. "Love you, Spike," she said so softly he almost didn’t hear it. Soon, she was asleep, her breathing even. He tightened his hold on her, resting his beside hers as he watched her sleep, thinking about how fast things could change and how they rarely went the way you expect. Unexpected surprises, he decided as he smiled softly before closing his eyes, following her into sleep.
*******THE END***********