GOING ONCE, GOING TWICE (5/?)
 

"Help? From me?" Willow frowned, not sure she had heard him correctly. What
could she possibly help Spike with?
 

"Yeah, from you," he said, moving his feet onto her coffee table. He watched
the skeptical look cross her pretty face and almost smiled. This was the most
fun he'd had in weeks.
 

"What? How?" she faltered, caught off guard by his matter of fact tone. She
gathered her thoughts, seeing the obvious amusement in his eyes and cursing
him mentally. "What could I ever help you with, Spike? I mean, Buffy and
Xander? I help them with patrol or homework. You definitely don't need help
with patrol and you aren't in school. So what could I possibly do for you?"
 

"Aw, Red," he groaned softly, her words conjuring images that made his jeans
tighten instantly and his plan flee his mind. He shifted in the chair, not
wanting her to see the rather prominant bulge that now pushed against the
denim of his jeans.
 

"Are you OK?" she asked in a slightly worried tone. He was fidgeting in his
chair and not looking her in the eyes. That rather concerned her. The one
thing she could always count on with Spike was that he loved to make eye
contact. He'd never look away unless he was lying. She saw him shake his head
as his hands gripped the side of the chair. Was he sick?
 

"Fine," he spat out, irritated that this little snippet of a human could
cause such a violent reaction to his body with just some innocent phrase. He
shuddered to imagine what he would turn into if she ever lowered herself
enough to touch him. He closed his eyes, trying to think of anything other
than crossing that small wooden surface and entering the little redhead in
one deep stroke. He brought forth thoughts of Buffy and her little boy toy
and of Xander and his twitty girl friend. Soon, his erection was completely
gone and he had a scowl on his face. Nothing better for the overactive libido
than thinking of the daft slayer and her little friends. He glanced up when
he felt himself back under control, scowling more when he saw the concern in
her green eyes. Damn if he didn't feel like a school boy again. He hated
feeling human. "What are you looking at?"
 

Willow flinched at the harsh tone in his voice, mad at herself for actually
caring that he had seemed upset. "Nothing," she muttered, her eyes falling to
look at the top of her coffee table.
 

"Damn it," he cursed, running a hand through his short blonde hair, "don't do
that!"
 

"Do what?" she asked, looking up with confusion.
 

"Act like I broke your favorite toy," he said, his lips thin.
 

"Spike, I'm getting a headache. Why don't you tell me what it is you want and
then leave?" she said finally, no longer in a mood to argue with him.
 

"Well, you see, it's about this bet," he started, hoping his plan made sense
to her when it was verbalized.
 

"Oh, the bet," she said, her voice slightly disappointed. In the back corners
of her mind, she could admit that she had been hoping he'd proclaim his love
for her and ask her to be his. No such luck, of course. He just wanted some
details about that damn bet.
 

"Yeah, the bet," he said, making a face. At the time, he had egged Anya and
Buffy on knowing that neither would back down from a challenge. He'd enjoyed
watching them argue and both their boys squirm. It was only after he had left
that he realized what he had done. Again, he'd let his big mouth get him into
trouble. Of course, by the time he had reached Red's, he'd had the perfect
plan. Not only would he win the bet, he'd get to spend a bit of time with his
redhead. He scowled at that thought. His? She wasn't his anything. Was she?
 

"What does the bet have to do with me?" she asked as she saw him scowl and
his eyes darken slightly. She gulped, knowing that he couldn't hurt her but
still feeling that rush of danger that he always seemed to give off. "It was
between you and the others. I don't have anything to do with it."
 

"But that's where you're wrong, luv," he said, coming from his thoughts with
what he hoped was a sexy grin.
 

"Wrong?" she asked, feeling butterflies in her stomach at his smile.
 

"You see, pet," he began as he made himself more comfortable in the chair and
waited for the inevitable fireworks, "you're going to win me."
 

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