GOING ONCE (8/?)
 

"Why am I here again?"
 

Spike looked at the redhead and smiled, "Because, I needed you."
 

"I'm hearing that an awful lot lately," she muttered, her eyes narrowing as
she looked at the store in front of them. "Why don't you try needing someone
else?"
 

"Ah, Red, where would the fun be in that?" he asked with a wink as he got out
of the car.
 

"Where would the fun be, he asks," she said, not moving from the passenger
seat. She watched him stop in front of the car, his hands moving to his hips
as his right foot began to tap impatiently. It had been nearly two days since
he had turned up at her front door. Well, turned up inside her house was
closer to the truth. And he hadn't left her alone since.
 

That night he had demanded that she was going to win him in the auction, he
had fallen asleep on her couch. Then, he had kissed her breathless and didn't
seem to remember it at all. All a part of some fantasy that didn't include
her, she decided crossly. After she had gotten in from her day with Buffy the
day before, he had taken up residence on her couch. When she had tried to get
him to leave, he'd come up with some need for her help in dealing with
questions that might be asked during the auction. He had needed her human
expertise, according to him. He had also somehow managed to fall asleep on
her sofa again, looking so boyish in sleep that she hadn't wanted to wake him
to leave. She had had classes that day and assumed he'd be gone when she
returned. Ha, that's what she got for thinking she could predict anything
that Spike was going to do. He'd informed her in a rather matter of fact tone
that he needed her that night. She's been a bit annoyed that he thought he
could tell her what to do and had started to argue with him. In the end, he'd
gotten her to admit that she had nothing to do and had promised to help him
with the auction. She had realized over the past couple of days that Spike
was not only an expert manipulator, but that he was also very very
intelligent. Stupid bleached hair moron, she thought in disgust. To think she
had liked him.
 

"Are you coming, Red?" he asked, his tone slightly annoyed as Willow sat in
the car, her expression reflective and thoughtful. He wondered idly if she
had any idea how clearly he could read her face.
 

"Why am I here again?" she asked as she got out of the car.
 

"Because," he spoke to her as if she were six, "you promised to help me
prepare for the auction."
 

"You know, I don't remember making that promise," she said with a frown.
 

"You did," he replied with an easy smile, "trust me."
 

"Ha, that's a laugh," she rolled her eyes.
 

"My, my, Red. Quite the feisty little girl today, aren't you?" he said,
loving this side of her. The spitfire that allowed him to see her annoyance
and displeasure with the entire situation. He watched her blush as she drew
her bottom lip into her mouth, her eyes widening as she realized she had been
talking back to him. Ah, yes. His timid little spitfire.
 

"Wait, how is this place going to help you with the auction?" she asked as
she followed him into the store.
 

"I can't very well wear this, can I?" he asked her, gesturing to his jeans
and T-shirt.
 

"Oh no, I draw the line here Mister," she stuttered, images suddenly feeling
her head of a naked Spike parading down the auction runway. She felt her
heart begin to race as she gulped, suddenly feeling rather warm despite the
cool air conditioned store. "I will not help you buy clothes."
 

"Why not?" he challenged, intrigued by the color flooding her face and the
soft scent of arousal that was reaching him. He slowly counted to ten, trying
to resist his demon's need to claim her there and then. Damn it, what was he
thinking? It was getting to be more and more difficult to be around her
without tossing her on the ground and shagging her silly, yet he had found
silly excuses to be with her every night since the Bronze. And they were
pathetic excuses. Even his wanker of a sire would be mortified to see how low
he had sunk just to be in her company.
 

"Well, because," she faltered, "um, well, surely you can buy your own
clothes, Spike."
 

"I haven't bought clothes in years," he said honestly. "Dru tended to get me
things. Never cared that much what I wore. Haven't paid for anything in
longer than I can even remember."
 

"You stole them?" she asked, reminded suddenly how different they were.
 

"Nah," he shook his head. Shrugging, he continued, "Dru'd just see something
she liked and kill whoever was wearing it."
 

"Oh Goddess," she said, making a face as she realized that she had touched
clothes stolen from a dead person. "That's just gross."
 

"Well, then, see? I need you to help me get a new wardrobe. I can toss out
all these rags," he said, waiting for the inevitable nod.
 

"Definitely," she said, shivering. "We'll burn them. That really is just
nasty. How could you wear clothes that were taken from a dead person?"
 

"They weren't dead when she took them off them, pet," he said with a smile
and a wink. "Come on, luv. Let's do some shopping."
 

"You only need one outfit, right? I mean, I hardly ever see you wearing
anything except that one set of clothes," she muttered as she moved amongst
the aisles, her green eyes looking at the men's clothes and not seeing
anything that really seemed to suit Spike.
 

"I have more than one," he said in protest, glaring at her as she rolled her
eyes. "Well, I do...." he followed behind her, wondering what she would
choose for him. He stopped at one rack, putting his arms on the top and
resting his chin on them as he watched her closely. Damn, she was beautiful.
He suddenly realized that he had suggested shopping. Was actually going to
buy new clothes all in an attempt to be with her for a little bit longer. And
he thought there was nothing more pathetic that he could have done. He closed
his eyes, groaning at how bloody stupid he must seem. Suddenly, he heard her
squeal and his eyes flew open. He watched her face light up as she smiled at
him and he felt his stomach tighten. Pathetic, maybe, but she was going to be
his.
 

"Try this on," she said, handing him the light blue shirt. She watched him
frown and waited.
 

"It's light blue," he said, spitting out the words in disgust. Not even for
her.
 

"Fine, then try this one," she handed him the one she liked the best, a long
sleeved silk shirt that was a midnight blue. With his coloring and hair, she
knew it would look great.
 

He took that one, thankful that it at least wasn't pink. "It's silk."
 

"So?" she said. "Silk is good. You need something for the auction, right?
Well, women love silk. Looking at you, they'll long to run their hands over
it, to see if it feels as soft as it looks."
 

"I don't care if they want to run their hands over anything," he said
crossly, watching her look at the shirt, a faraway look in her eyes as the
scent of her arousal overwhelmed him. Well, well, well, looks like he had
found something that turned his little witch on. "You're the one that's gonna
win me."
 

"You want to beat Xander and Riley don't you?" she challenged. "You'll get
higher bids if you wear silk and leather."
 

"No leather," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Leather was Soulboy's little
fetish, not mine. I'll do the silk cause it seems to make you wet, but no
leather."
 

"What?" her eyes widened as she felt her mouth dry, "Silk does nothing to me."
 

"I can smell it, luv," he said with a wink. "Makes you want to run your hands
all over it, eh?"
 

"You can smell...." her face flamed as she turned from him, bumping into a
rack of clothes. "I don't care what you buy. I'm waiting in the car."
 

Spike felt his demon rise as she turned away from him, tried to leave him. He
glanced around the store, noticing the there were very few people in it this
late but that a couple of them had been watching him and Willow. His eyes
narrowed as he moved, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her
against him. He whispered against her ear as she struggled against him, "Luv,
no one leaves me."
 

With those words, he grabbed some random clothes from a nearby rack and moved
towards the back of the store and the dressing rooms. Willow continued to
squirm against him but was smart enough to remain silent. He opened one of
the dressing rooms, pushing her inside and tossing the clothes on the floor
at her feet. He followed her inside, his eyes sparking yellow as she moved
away from him. "What did you think you were doing, little girl?"
 

"I was going to the car," she said, her large eyes watching his face. He was
really angry with her. She frowned, confused as to what she had done.
 

"You were challenging me," he amended, his eyes narrowing on her face. "There
were people watching us, pet. They seemed to be amused, thinking this a bit
of a lover's tiff."
 

"Who cares what they think?" she asked, watching as he began to lazily
unfasten the buttons of his shirt. "What are you doing?"
 

"Trying on clothes," he said in a patient tone, almost smiling at the squeak
in her voice. "And I care what they think. I will not have some weak assed
humans think that I can't handle my woman. Since I can't kill them, I have to
show them I can control you."
 

"You can't try on clothes," she said, her eyes watching every movement of his
fingers as she continued to protest his act. "And I'm not your woman."
 

"You know that, but they don't know that," he said, his blue eyes looking at
her face. He smiled slowly, seeing her attention focused on his chest. Who
was she fooling? There was no doubt in his or his demon's mind that she was
his woman. True, he hadn't claimed her yet, but it was only a matter of time.
 

"So this is some sort of male thing?" she asked, licking her lips as the
smooth pale chest was bared to her view and the shirt fell to the floor.
 

"Yeah, you could say that," he responded, moving slowly to pick up one of the
shirts he had grabbed. He took his time dressing, taking delight in posing
and teasing her. Her face was flushed and her heart was beating rapidly and
she couldn't look away from him. Oh, but she didn't want him. Ha.
 

"That figures," she muttered, sighing as he buttoned the shirt. She squeaked
again when she saw him reach for a pair of soft blue denim jeans.
 

"You might want to turn around, luv," he said with a smile. "I don't wear
knickers and would hate to offend you."
 

"Oh my God," she turned only to find herself looking in the mirror. She
couldn't believe what she saw. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide and glazed
with what could only be described as desire, her breathing was erratic and
her hair was in disarray. She heard a zipper and closed her eyes, imagining
what she was missing. It was then she heard the chuckle. The smug self
satisfied chuckle that penetrated the lust induced cloud that was around her
mind. Spike thought this was amusing. He had to see how she was affected by
him. Even he couldn't be that blind. And he found it funny. She opened her
eyes, a spark of anger flashing in their green depths as she slowly smiled.
He wanted to give those guys out front a show? She'd give them a show they
never forgot.
 

Willow gathered every ounce of courage that she had ever possessed, knowing
that the next five to ten minutes would be the biggest bluff of her life. If
she succeeded though, it would show Spike that he couldn't count on her for
his amusement. She reached down and picked up the midnight blue silk shirt
she had originally given him. Counting to ten and very slowly, she began to
unbutton her shirt. Two could play at that game.
 

Spike had just finished fastening the blue jeans, rather enjoying their fit,
when he saw the white shirt fall to the ground. His eyes flew up as his cock
suddenly surged against the jeans. He watched with narrowed, hungry eyes as
she pulled the silk shirt around her, her fingers fastening the buttons as
her eyes stared in the mirror. He couldn't look away, the brief glimpse of
her burned into his mind. Pert but full breasts straining against white
cotton, a flat but firm stomach that had a scattering of pale freckles. He
watched as she finished fastening the shirt, leaving the top buttons open. It
engulfed her, falling past her knees. With her flushed face and mussed hair,
she looked every inch a girl that had just been royally shagged and was now
wearing her lover's discarded shirt. The silk caressed the curves of her
breasts, making him long to run his hands over it. Remembering her earlier
words, he found himself agreeing with her description of silk. He found
himself frozen in place as she unfastened her jeans, pushing them off until
she remained in just the shirt. The demon was fighting to claim its mate, to
ride her until she collapsed, but he struggled to remain in control to see
what she was planning.
 

Willow folded her jeans and shirt, standing in front of the mirror wearing
only the large men's silk shirt. She closed her eyes briefly at the feel of
it against her heated skin, the coolness of the material making her nipples
hard, or maybe it was the idea that Spike was just behind her and could be
watching her entire show in the mirror. She had no idea if he was or not,
that element adding slightly to the enjoyment of this entire episode. Smiling
slightly, she suddenly hit her hands on the mirror as hard as she could and
cried out in what she hoped sounded like pleasure. "Yessssss," she hissed,
loud enough for anyone near to hear. Straightening, she ran a hand over her
hair and wiped the back of her against her mouth, smearing her lipstick. She
took her clothes and turned, her eyes on the floor as she pushed past Spike,
not wanting to see his face for fear that she would see disgust or desire,
not sure which she would find.
 

She entered the store, straightening herself as she walked past several
knowing smiles. She glanced at the saleslady and smiled sweetly, "He'll be
paying for this one," she said, running her fingers over the silk as she
continued outside and walked towards the car, only letting her breath out
when she sat in her seat, waiting for Spike.
 

Spike grabbed the pile of clothes, not caring what exactly he was buying. He
tossed them all on the counter, his cock hard against his jeans as he handed
over his credit card. He turned, grabbing a couple extra silk shirts from the
rack and putting them on the pile. He shrugged and smiled sheepishly at one
of the customers and said, "What can I say? My baby likes her silk."
 

"Sounded like it," the man said, leering slightly before going back to his
shopping.
 

Spike's eyes narrowed as he waited for the purchases to be rung up. Willow
was waiting for him in the car. His little spitfire had just taken the game
from him and moved it up one step. He had to smile as he wondered if she
realized that he only played to win. He began to laugh as he reminded himself
to never underestimate her again. He got his bags and went outside, getting
into the car and glancing at her. "We'll get some ice cream," he said and
then started the car. He saw the confusion and smiled, not mentioning one
word about what had been happening between them in the dressing room. She may
have moved the game up a notch, but he had won that round. She still had no
idea what he game he was really playing.
 

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