Bend and Not Break

Author: Jami

Parts: 31 - 40

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~Part: 31~

The ride home was unnervingly silent. Home, such a relative term, Willow supposed. She didn't really have a home, not anymore. After her parents died, she was forced to leave the only place she called home, had to leave the town she had grown up in, to move to the big city. That had to have been the biggest mistake of her life. She hated thinking that way, mostly because she knew it wasn't true. While living with her cousin was miserable, William made it all seem tolerable. Times were hard, in the beginning. But they were finally working out, everything had fallen into place. And then all hell broke loose.

William was gone, there was no denying it. Her William was gone, but one thing that both the demon and the man seemed to agree on was that she was his. She used to long for someone to shower her with such devotion. She wished that there was someone out there thought only about her, about wanting her. But such wishes were naïve and foolish. Devotion comes with a dark side, some might call it obsession. Whatever it is called, its very nature is destructive. She wondered what would become of her now. Answers were something she was sorely lacking as of now. She meant what she said to him, she didn't understand him, his motives. To him, his motives were none of her business. After all, with knowledge comes power, and he essentially wanted her powerless.

That's what made her situation even worse. Growing up with only her to take care of herself, she was ridiculously independent by nature. But now William seemed to be content to place her in a subservient position. She found it utterly intolerable and demeaning, and he knew that. It made him laugh.

After she had been placed into their carriage, she hadn't said anything. What could she say really? She had nowhere to go, no way to leave his side, so pleading would be useless. And truthfully, she was just plain tired of begging. She didn't look at him, either. It seemed to bother him, the idea that she was dismissing him. He hated being ignored with a passion. Her head remained bent, eyes gazing intently at the folds of her dress as if they were somehow fascinating.

Angelus and Drusilla were taking their own ride to London, and she didn't know if she should be grateful or not. Three vampires in close quarters were slightly more frightening than one. In a way, she was thankful. She knew that if Angelus had been there to see her behavior, William would have felt the need to prove he could control her, make her do as he said. At least when they were alone, there would be no need for preposterous male posturing. Things were bad enough now; she didn't need him showing off for his sire.

While she may have remained stubbornly silent, he did not. At first, his comments, his whispers were tinged with amusement and obvious pride at winning their little battle of wills that night. They had been sitting there for nearly fifteen minutes before he broke the silence with a small, unneeded sigh. His arm had remained planted around her shoulders ever since they left; only tightening his grip when he would feel her try to dislodge his hold on her. She quickly learned not to fight his advances; it was pointless in the end. When she finally forced herself to relax under his touch, he started talking to her, his pleased tone causing her to frown.

"That's my pet," he cooed gently, his fingers idly tracing designs on her slightly exposed shoulder. "You'll learn soon enough. There's no need to fight me," he shifted a little to get more comfortable as he began to playfully twist the ends of her hair in his fingers. When she remained still as a statue he spared her a quick glare before turning his gaze away from her, concentrating solely on the flickering gaslight in front of him.

"I don't know why you make this so hard on yourself," he commented. "It's not like you don't want this, to be with me." She knew she could easily argue his last statement but chose not to. Unfortunately, he took her silence as a sign that she agreed with him.

"See, love. You can't even deny it, can you?" he whispered. "You know why that is? Hmmm? Because even though you think its wrong, you can't help what you feel in your heart." His arm left her shoulders as he turned to look at her profile. Tenderly brushing her hair away from her face and tucking in behind her ear, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling back, his hand still petting her hair.

"You don't think I'm the same man you married, but I am. I am everything he was and so much more. I'm so much more than you can imagine, new and improved if you will. I know you're worried, pet, that I might not want you; that I just want to hurt you." He tucked a finger under her chin and pulled her face to his, looking her in the eye. "But you shouldn't worry. I remember when I first saw you, after my change. You were so bloody beautiful, your tears, your pain, they all called to me. I'll never get tired seeing you like that." The admiration and unmistakable lust that was present in his voice honestly surprised her. She hated the reaction she still had from just listening to his voice. Being so close to him, she longed to just lose herself in his familiar embrace, but she couldn't let herself do that.

"Look at you, love," he grinned with a twinkle in his eye. "Even now, you're denying yourself. Would it be so bad to do what your body tells you to? After all, who would ever have to know that you gave yourself to a vampire.a demon? It doesn't always have to be about fear and pain, you know. I can be like I was, before. If given the proper incentive." his voice was low and leaned in closer to her, his mouth hovering above hers.

"I can give you what you want," he told her, eying her appreciatively, a knowing smirk on his face as he scented her desire that betrayed her stony exterior. "I can give you what you need. You just have to be a good girl. That's all." He brushed his lips over hers teasingly before pulling back slightly, but still so very close to her.

"You tell me what I want.and I'll give you what you want," he demanded softly. He could see the question in her curious eyes and grinned. "Tell me that you belong to me." he whispered. "That's all you have to do, my love. Tell me that you belong to me. You do, you know. Now, tell me."

Willow fought the urge to look him in the eye, knowing she would tell him whatever he wanted if she did. She knew she had already handed over her life to him; she was his, like he said. But saying it, putting words to that made it so much more real; she couldn't do it. She couldn't let herself become a belonging, no matter what he told her, that was all she was to him.

Spike saw her lips tremble as she tried her best to remain quiet. She had been unwaveringly silent during their entire ride so far. It incensed him that he couldn't get to her. He knew she was listening, but she made no effort to respond, even to just argue with him. This was the first outward sign he had seen since they left that small town that he was finally getting through to her.

"You are mine," he hissed at her, his eyes narrowing. "Even before I was turned, you belonged to me. That ring on your finger, *my* ring, tells everyone that you're mine." His gaze never left hers as he slipped his free hand down her arm and grasped her hand in his. His fingers felt for the opal ring, studded with rubies and diamonds; that he had slipped on her finger when they were married, his search came up empty. His eyes darted from her eyes to her hand and back, his blue gaze now tinged with gold.

"Where is it?" he snarled, glaring at her menacingly. She wasn't sure what he was talking about at first but understood quickly when he squeezed her hand harshly.

"I.it fell off." she stammered nervously. He really didn't seem pleased that she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. "M-Marie.she pulled it off when--" she tried to explain, choking up when she thought of how and where she lost the jewelry. "It's in their house, on the floor. I just couldn't go back to get it." she murmured, lost in the gruesome memories of her dying aunt.

Spike still wasn't happy; he hadn't noticed that she had been without her wedding ring until now. But that could be fixed easily enough.

"Well then, we'll just have to go back and find it, won't we?" he asked with a displeased growl. He saw her face pale and smiled. "Don't worry, pet. I'll leave you at home when we take that little trip. I know how sensitive your stomach is."

"But don't you see, my love?" he started, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her onto his lap, feeling her tense above him. "The ring, it is a symbol, a sign to all others that you belong to me. But now, that ring is merely a useless gem, means nothing to my kind," he told her gravely as he nuzzled her neck, purring lightly.

He rested his forehead on her shoulder and she jumped when she felt the previously smooth surface become ridged and harsh. She began to squirm, unsure of what he was doing, but she couldn't get out of his hold. One arm remained locked around her waist as the other wound its way through her hair, pulling her head to the side gently, carefully.

The scent of her fear filtered to his senses when he teasingly ran his fangs along her neck before reverently kissing the base of her neck.

"A ring means nothing." he breathed, "but a bite.means everything." She barely had time to comprehend what he meant before she felt his jagged teeth enter her neck. He let out a pleasurable growl at the taste of her and bit down even more, claiming her for his own. There would be no mistaking it now. She didn't understand, didn't know what he did. They were heading to a vampire's den. She would be up for grabs if she wasn't claimed and he was not about to let her become some minion's evening meal.

The feel of his mouth clamped onto her neck and the progressive loss of blood was causing her eyes to flutter close and her head to fall forward. Spike forced himself to pull back, not wanting to drain her too much. She would be fine if he took more, but he wasn't sure that the baby would be as well. He had to keep his child in mind. He had been so focused on her that he could easily become distracted and lose control.

His demonic façade slipped away as he cleaned her neck, savoring the taste of her. He felt her shaking a bit in his arms and adjusted them so he was lounging along the bench seat, laying her across him, and urging her to rest her head on his shoulder. Being as exhausted as she was, she didn't protest. Instead she let out a ragged breath and closed her eyes.

"Get some rest, love," he muttered, staring intently at his mark on her. "You're in for a long day."

~Part: 32~

Willow tried to force her eyes open but her eyelids were so heavy from exhaustion she just couldn't bring herself to open them. She heard voices distantly, the words all blending together and making no sense to her. Someone was carrying her, that she knew. She felt a jolt each time a step was taken and felt the strong arms that held her tighten whenever she slipped in their grasp. A moan slipped from her lips as she was jostled once more and the person holding her stopped walking abruptly.

"Come on, pet," called a low, comforting voice. "Open those pretty eyes for me, love. Come on." he entreated gently. She felt herself being laid down, and placed on a rather soft, what she assumed to be, mattress. The arms slipped out from under her and she felt the bed shift to the side of her, signaling that her caretaker was sitting beside her.

She quickly became aware of the pain radiating from her neck and raised a shaky hand to the wound as she blinked open her eyes, confusion and pain in her gaze. She hissed when she touched the tender skin and pulled her hand back, flinching when she saw the traces of her own blood on her fingers.

"Careful there, Red," advised Spike as he moved to hover above her. "The bite's still fresh. Don't want you to start bleeding again." He took her hand in his and raised it to his mouth, kissing the tips of her fingers before lapping and suckling gently at the drops of blood on them. His eyes closed at the taste of her, as sweet as he remembered. His eyes opened once more, studying her with slightly amber eyes.

He hated to admit that he had been worried about her. Willow had been unconscious for hours now, ever since he had bitten her. He had been careful to watch the amount of blood he took and he knew she would be fine. But when she still hadn't woken up even after they arrived back in London, he got a little nervous. He was overreacting, he realized. Combine her blood loss with her lack of sleep and the stress of the past few days as well as the child she was carrying and he understood that she needed the rest. She was desperate for the time to allow her body to recoup.

It was now dark outside in the city and Angelus and Drusilla had arrived only moments before he did. He took the initiative to bring Willow to his room, ignoring all the prying eyes of the hungry minions as he strode confidently through the house. He knew Angelus would be explaining the rules to them right about now, the first being that the redhead was off limits. To touch her would mean a fate worse than death. Not only would they be defying an obvious claim, but they would be ignoring the orders of the Master. Angelus didn't take acts of defiance lightly. Even in the past few days, Spike knew it had taken a lot of discipline on his sire's part not to stake him every time he argued with him.

Spike sat back a little, giving her a little breathing room as she came to. Her eyes struggled to focus and she had a constant grimace on her face as she slowly woke. He ran the back of his hand along her cheek, the coolness welcome on her feverish skin. Unknowingly she leaned into his touch and he smiled at her subconscious actions. He waited for a moment as she gathered her bearings and he could tell by the quickened beating of her heart that she was now well aware of her situation.

Willow tried to sit up, but a firm hand on her shoulder kept her on her back. She glanced at Spike from beneath her eyelashes, trying to judge his mood. She relaxed a bit when she realized he wasn't angry or agitated. In fact, he seemed intrigued and even a bit wistful.

"Better stay put, love," he suggested with a small grin. "You've got to be right knackered. Just rest, we'll talk more later. I'm gonna check in with Angelus and the boys, you stay right here," he ordered gently as he moved to stand.

"Wait," she cried as he went to leave. He turned slowly on his heel, looking at her, raising a surprised eyebrow. She felt herself blush slightly under his pleased gaze and struggled to find what she wanted to tell him. "You're just leaving me here? Is.is that-safe?" she practically whispered the last word. He laughed loudly at her attempt to be subtle and secretive.

"You're safe from them, love." There was so much in that one sentence, she realized. She was safe from them, from the house full of vampires, of demons. But she noticed that he made no attempt to assure her of her safety from him. He would protect her from everyone but himself. His reassurance strangely enough didn't make her feel much better.

"I won't be gone long," he offered, "but just in case you get any ideas, pet. Remember that this is house full of vampires, a lot of them young and daft, who would love nothing more than to take a bite. I suggest you stay in here, even if it's for your own safety." She paled at the picture he painted and she sunk further into the bed as he left her alone once more.

The blonde closed his bedroom door behind him, locking it from the outside and pocketing the key. He glared at the various minions that eyed the door hungrily. It was so obvious that there was a human in the lair. Her heartbeat resounded through the place, filtering through the walls, from the cellar to the third floor. Traces of her blood could be smelled from his earlier bite, stirring up the fledglings who had not left yet to feed. Spike growled low in his throat, warning away anyone who even spared his bedroom door a considering glance. He may not be as old as Angelus, but he was no mere minion. He deserved their respect, whether they liked it or not.

Striding confidently into Angelus' bedroom where he found his sire lounging comfortably across from the roaring fireplace. He was sprawled across the chaise, one leg on the cushions, the other bent at the knee, his foot resting on the wood floor beneath. Drusilla was on the floor next to him, her head on his thigh, her feet tucked under herself, hidden by the pooling of her long dress around her. Angelus glanced to the doorway when he felt the blonde enter and signaled him to take a seat.

Falling into the overstuffed chair across from the lounging brunettes, Spike flung one leg over the arm of the chair, sitting in a most ungentlemanly way.

"Sleeping beauty awake yet?" inquired Angelus in a bored tone, his eyes never leaving the flickering fire before him.

"Yeah, still a little out of it, though. But that's to be expected I suppose," shrugged Spike.

"Mmmm, can I pay a visit to our little one?" purred Drusilla from her sire's lap. "We could have the nicest tea party. Miss Edith will like her, I know it."

"Not yet, Dru," sighed Angelus, getting rather sick of hearing the crazy woman go on and on about visiting Willow. It wasn't time for that though. Spike needed to be with the redhead, let her grow accustomed to the routine here, before she could be allowed any real freedom to leave the bedroom and entertain Drusilla.

"Everyone understand that she's off limits?" growled Spike, needing to know if Angelus had informed all of his minions that Willow was under his protection.

"Of course," drawled the eldest with a roll of her eyes. "Your girl will be fine, keep her in isolation for a few days. For safe keeping, if you will." Spike nodded his agreement and they fell into a comfortable silence.

"You hunting tonight?" asked the blonde absently, looking to the ceiling.

"Yeah," grunted Angelus as he ran his fingers through Dru's hair. "In a bit, I wanted to rest a little. Sick of being stuck in that damn carriage all day. We're gonna leave soon, you're coming?"

"Too right!" he grinned. "Gotta get some fresh air after all. Besides, I have to stop by the Adam's home, left a little trinket there. I'll meet you out there, gotta spend some time with my girl, mate." With that he stood dramatically, bowing comically in Dru's direction, causing the vampire to giggle, before he turned and strode out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him with a flourish.

Spike walked through the maze of hallways and was pleased to see that there were no vampires lingering outside his room, instead leaving the house to hunt. He slipped the key into his door and opened it with a creek. He looked to the bed and frowned when he didn't see the redhead. Following her scent, he saw her curled up on the area rug in front of the fire, taking in the warmth it produced. His footsteps sounded loud to him as he closed the door behind him and made his way across the floor.

Willow moved to sit up; clutching the pillow she brought with her from the bed tightly in her hands. Spike joined her on the floor, sitting behind her. He scooted closer to her, spreading his legs across the floor so that they lay around her body. Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled to him, her back against his chest. He could feel how tense she was as she allowed herself to rest against him. His chin lay on her shoulder, his hand absently stroking her abdomen. They remained like that for almost twenty minutes, Spike too content to move, Willow too nervous.

She felt him shift behind her before he released her and pulled himself off the floor. He held a hand out to her and she hesitantly slipped her hand in his, allowing him to pull her up. She was surprised when she saw him bend a little and slip one hand under her knees, another bracing her back as he lifted her once again into his arms. Her arms locked around his neck automatically to balance herself and he granted her a pleased smile.

He laid her on the bed and she waited for him to move away but he didn't. Instead, he hovered above her, staring into her eyes with a look she could only classify as longing. He lay comfortably with his hips pressed into the mattress between her legs, using his forearms to brace himself so he wasn't lying on top of her. He rested his weight on one arm as one hand moved to run through her hair before tracing a cheekbone, trailing his thumb across her bottom lip. She couldn't help squirming a bit at his intense stare and the feel of him. She hated when he did this. She could handle his biting comments, deal with his occasional threat. But this intimacy, this familiarity was disturbing. She just wanted him to go away, to leave her in peace. If he stayed much longer, she wasn't sure she would be able to push him away.

Spike's blue eyes flickered to her mouth and his hand wound itself in her hair as he leaned in closer. His lips brushed over hers and he felt the shaky breath that escaped her parted lips. He tried to deepen their tentative kiss but her timid hand on his chest stopped him. He pulled away slightly so he could look into her eyes which were shining with unshed tears.

"Don't." she whispered pleadingly. "Please, just leave me alone." He narrowed his eyes as his hand untangled itself from her hair to cup her cheek. Willow shied away from his touch and looked away to the wall. He growled at her attempt to ignore him.

"Look at me," he demanded quietly. She bit her lip but continued to stare away from him. "Look at me!" he snarled. Her eyes darted to his and cringed at the fury she saw.

"Don't presume you have the right to tell me what to do," he snapped. "Now, I'm afraid I have to run, people to kill and all, but we're not done, love," Spike warned darkly. "Refuse me again and you might not like the bloody consequences." He remained hovering menacingly above her until he was confident she was sufficiently scared. He climbed off the bed and stalked to the bedroom door.

"You might want to stay awake, pet. You'll be keeping vampire hours from now on, get used to it," he declared before slamming the door behind him, shaking the walls around it with his force. She heard the click of the lock and crumbled into a sobbing mess, pulling her knees to her chest. She just wanted this to be some nightmare she would wake up from. One where she would wake up next to William and he could just hold her in his warm embrace until all her fear had melted away. But this was her reality and her William.he was the stuff of nightmares.

~Part: 33~

She wondered how she was going to make it through this. Standing on shaky limbs, Willow walked quietly away from the bed. Spike had been gone for close to an hour by now and the mansion was hauntingly quiet. She had debated the merits of escape, but knew her attempts would be useless. Even if the house was empty, which it most likely wasn't, the bedroom door was locked from the outside and there was no way she could jar it open. She even considered using the window as a way out, but she was on the second floor and the fall would injure her most definitely. She really didn't fancy the idea of lying injured and bleeding next to a vampire den in the middle of the night.

Her tears had finally dried up, although the occasional hiccup or uncontrollable shake made its way through her body. The redhead moved back to her spot on the floor in front of the fireplace, curled into a fetal position, her head cradled on the soft down pillow.

The events of a couple hours before kept running through her mind. She tried her best to block them out, to forget the familiar feel of William, to ignore the temptation he created. He may be evil, but he was still her husband, even if it was only in body, and she couldn't help the feelings he stirred within her.

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon,
and long for you

It won't do
to stir a deep desire,
to fan a hidden fire,
that can never burn true

He told her, while they were making their way back to London, that she should just give in. After all, who would know that she spent her nights with a demon? It would be so easy to pretend he hadn't changed, to imagine that he was still her William. But what would become of her?

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
These things begin;

But I don't know
how would I live with myself,
what I'd forgive of myself,
if you don't go

He was angry with her, that she was sure of. She had pushed him away even though the entire time all she wanted to do was pull him closer and let all her worries and troubles fade into the background. But she did what she had to do. He wasn't the man she fell in love with, he wasn't even a man. There was no doubt about it; he would be the death of her. The only thing she was unsure of was when he would finally send her to her final resting place.

Why did he want her here, anyway? She couldn't help asking herself that one critical question. He couldn't possibly still care for her. He kept telling her that he could be like before, that he could love her, if she let him. Her resolve was beginning to waver unfortunately. It took all her will and inner strength to refuse him but she was steadily growing weaker, emotionally at least. If his attentions remained as insistent, she feared she would give in. She was even more afraid that he was aware of that.

So goodbye,
sweet appetite,
no single bite
could satisfy...

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
These things begin;

Shifting to lie closer to the warmth of the fire, Willow cringed at the throbbing pain radiating from her neck. Spike didn't tell her of the significance of his bite, but she had an idea of what it meant. She was quite observant and it was easy to tell that possessiveness was a major characteristic in every vampire. A bite means everything, he had told her. Her wedding ring told men that she was taken, his bite told vampires that she belonged to another. Archaic but effective, she supposed.

She missed her ring. It was beautiful, that was true, but it reminded her of the day William proposed. He looked so shy and nervous and undeniably handsome as he knelt on his knee, glancing up at her with those piercing blue eyes. She clearly recalled the scent of roses and the feel of the sun beating down on her as she spoke and danced with him in the garden. He said he was getting it back, he was bringing it to her, and she was torn between feeling grateful and relieved, and a dull feeling of terror as she thought of how she lost it in the first place. She didn't know how she would react if she spied a drop of errant blood on it. She would probably turn a sickening shade of green and he would probably laugh.

As she tried to find a comfortable position on the floor, Willow turned onto her back, her legs entwined in her dress. With a sigh born of frustration and exhaustion she pulled at the bottom of her skirts as she tried to stand. She hastily unbuttoned the front and tugged at the stays in the back, eager to be rid of the binding clothing. The gown pooled at the bottom of her feet, leaving her clothed in a gauzy white slip that hit about mid-calf. It was slightly fitted at the waist and chest so as not to be too loose, but it was by far more comfortable than her dress. She gathered the fabric in her arms and laid it out carefully across the lone chair on the other side of the bedroom. Satisfied that it wouldn't wrinkle too badly, Willow returned to her spot on the floor. Lying on her side, her eyes fluttered shut. Her only thoughts as she began to fall asleep were that she hoped her dreams were not of her William. She didn't think she could take it.

But I don't know
how I would live with myself,
what I'd forgive of myself,
if you don't go

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon,
and long
for you...

The pervading feeling of cold brought the redhead to wakefulness. The bedroom was darker than she remembered and when her eyes fell to the fireplace she understood why. The flames had flickered and died out by now. It was still night, no hint of sunlight peeked out from under those thick draperies. With a muffled groan, she struggled to stand, her back painfully sore from lying on the hard floor. Her eyes began to adjust to the low light and she was surprised to see a gaslight burning next to the chair she had laid her dress across. Still caught in the throes of sleep, she merely shrugged and stumbled toward the bed, her eyes half closed and her vision blurry.

"You were supposed to stay awake," reminded a low voice. She visibly started at the sound and hesitantly glanced at the bed, biting her lip nervously as she saw Spike lounging across the mattress watching her intently.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled, trying to figure out a way to keep him calm. "I tried-but I couldn't help it." He kept his intense stare trained on her, holding her gaze without an expression on his face. His silence and impassive look unnerved her.

The bed creaked under his weight as he sat up, his legs moving to hang off the side of the mattress as he stood. She bowed her head, looking to the floor unable to hold his gaze as he stalked his way to her. She knew he was standing right in front of her, but her eyes remained lowered, now looking at his feet. He was now barefoot, had obviously been back for some time now. He had abandoned the stuffy overcoat he had been wearing, only clad simply in trousers and a half-buttoned shirt.

The coolness of his skin caused her to jump as he grasped her left hand. Her eyes darted to their joined hands as he slipped on the familiar diamond, ruby, and opal ring.

"You found it." she murmured to herself.

"Yeah," he smirked, but didn't elaborate, she was thankful for that. His hands left hers and trailed up her arms before coming to rest on her shoulders, kneading them softly and moving closer to her. She could feel his unneeded breath on the top of her head and chanced a look into his eyes.

"You look beautiful, love," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Satisfied when she didn't pull away, he slid his hands down her arms once more, gripping her hands lightly as he walked backward to the bed. Pushing her down gently, he joined her and lay on top of the covers. She stared at the ceiling above her, too afraid of what might happen if she looked his way. She felt the ghost of his fingertips along the side of her face and exhaled shakily. The bed shifted a little and she became still when she felt his lips on her neck. She waited for him to bite her, for the pain, and was surprised when he kissed the skin softly. One arm went around her waist, pulling her against him as he moved to look her in the eye.

"You want this." he told her quietly, "You want me. Don't deny yourself." his voice dropped to a tantalizing whisper as he leaned down to kiss her gently. "I want this too, for so long." he murmured, still hovering above her. He frowned when she remained silent.

"Why do you still fight me?" he wondered, doing his best to control the frustration he felt.

"I-I can't let you do this.I can't let myself do this." she answered, tears gathering once more, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.

"Why is that, pet?" he asked, his gaze intense and mesmerizing.

"Because-you're not him," she whispered harshly. "You are so much like him. But you're evil.and if I.if we." Spike could tell she was warring with something inside, something that was difficult for her. It made him need her answer even more.

"What? I told you I wouldn't hurt you. What are you so afraid of, Willow?" She looked away and he barely heard her soft-spoken reply, full of fear and worry.

"I-I'm afraid I might fall in love with you."

~Part: 34~

Out of every possible answer that could have escaped her lips, that was the only one Spike wasn't prepared for. He had steeled himself for her hatred, for her disgust at being with a demon, but not this. Although, he had to admit, this was the most satisfying reply she could have given. It meant he was getting to her, that she was not immune to him, not matter how hard she tried to ignore him.

He heard the loathing and despair in her voice when she whispered that she was afraid she would fall in love with him. He understood it. He was a demon; there were no ways around it. He loved his existence, even more so now that he had her with him. But there would be no apologies for his actions, no guilt from him. He wasn't to be trusted, and she knew that. He could promise a thousand times over that he wouldn't hurt her, but he didn't know if he could keep his vow. His temper was volatile, it couldn't be helped. If she did something foolish or harmful, he knew he wouldn't hesitate to put her in her place. As of now, her discipline would be mild, only on account of the child she was carrying. But once his child was born, she would have no protection.

Now, he didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to be the reason she was in pain. But he was prepared to do *anything* necessary to keep her by his side. He wanted to treat her like a queen, to love her, but he had other needs. Unfortunately, his desires to have her accompany him on hunts, to share the delight of a fresh kill, and to experience the raw passion that accompanies it would have to wait. He had every intention of bringing her over, of turning her. But obviously he couldn't indulge in that particular fantasy just yet. He still hadn't decided how long he would let her live before making her his childe. Time was unimportant to him, now all that mattered was the present.

A single tear drop landed on the back of his hand, causing him to forget his mind's rambling and focus on the girl next to him. Willow still wouldn't look him in the eye, her gaze remaining on the far wall. He knew he had to be careful with her. She was extremely fragile right now, and with just the right words he could have her eating out of his hand. But one wrong word, one ill-placed inflection in his tone could only ruin all the work he had done.

"Is that such a bad thing, to love me?" he asked softly, his voice sounding pained at the thought. The redhead stiffened when she felt his hand wrap around her own, pulling it close to him, placing a kiss on her palm.

"You aren't him," she replied, her voice hoarse. "I.I love Will, but he's dead. He's gone. I can't betray him, especially not with you," she spat out as she tried to pull her hand from his. "He was a good man, and you.you may have his body, but you don't have his soul."

"Doesn't change a thing," he told her with a shake of his head. "Not when it comes to you." Spike forced himself to look as sincere as possible as he released his grip on her hand and turned her head to make her look at him. "I don't have a soul. I won't lie to you and say I do. But I don't need one. Did you know that you were the first thing I thought of when I woke? Ever since that day, all I have wanted was to be with you."

"You want to kill me!" she screeched, losing her decorum. "Why I'm still alive, I don't know. Maybe you want to drive me crazy first. I hope you're having fun, because I am not sure how much more I can take."

"If I wanted simply to kill you," he reasoned quietly, his eyes staring into hers with such intensity. "I would have done so by now. I would have left your drained body along side those of your meddling cousin and aunt." He knew he was being harsh, but he was quickly growing tired of constantly defending his actions. "If you were just a meal, I would have forgotten about you when you ran to Xander. I would have left you with your friends and moved on. But I can't do that. I can't leave you behind."

"Why?" she asked meekly. She needed to know why he refused to leave her be. He wasn't the same, made no attempts to tell her otherwise, but he was so adamant that he needed her with him.

"Because you're mine," he replied with an edge to his voice that she wasn't sure she liked.

"That's not an explanation!" she argued, pushing him away from her sharply and standing. She began to pace the length of the room, ignorant of the angry glare he was sending her way.

"That is all the explanation you need," he told her with a growl. "There are things you don't understand, that you can't understand," he continued as he rose from the bed and she stopped her movement. He kept his distance, knowing she was skittish. She stood in place a few feet away from him, unable to tear her eyes away from his gaze. "I am a vampire; the petty rules of society and human propriety don't mean a damn thing to me anymore. Every feeling, every emotion is intensified. You haven't felt anything like it, it's amazing. It's a primal existence, a thrilling experience I must tell you. Hunger is like a gnawing pain in my stomach. Pain causes conflicting feelings of relentless aching and pleasure. Lust is an all-consuming need." His eyes flickered amber as he took one step forward.

"Did you know I haven't been with another woman after my turning? Now, I've had plenty of offers," he informed her with a self-congratulating smirk. "I am a handsome bloke, after all. But I never strayed, do you know why?" he murmured as he continued to move closer, grinning when she unconsciously took steps backward until her back hit the wall. He closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds. He could feel her hot breath on him as he looked down at her, his eyes softening as he studied her face. His hands gripped her hips lightly and smiled down at her.

"All those feelings, from before, they are still here, in me," he told her, bringing himself even closer to her. "Even love, it's even more powerful than the rest. The hunger, need, lust, they all don't compare to love. It's this burning need deep inside, to possess and be possessed. You'll never experience anything else like it." He now rest against her, his face buried in her neck, emitting a contented purr as he inhaled the scent of her. "You don't know how hard it has been, with you right here next to me, but yet so far away. I've wanted nothing more than to lose myself in you, but you have pushed me away."

"It takes all my control not to do as I wish, without considering your feelings," he said, a trace of repressed anger in his voice. "But it wouldn't be enough," he sighed, placing a cold kiss to her neck. "Your body, as delightful as it is, isn't enough to satisfy. I don't know why, devil knows I've tried to ignore it, but I need you to need me. To crave me just as much as I crave you. Bloody pathetic," he sneered contemptuously. He hated that he was desperate for her affection; it was a weakness he had hoped would fade. If anything it only grew stronger. He distantly heard her squeak when his hold on her hips tightened, almost painful.

Spike took a moment to study her. Her breathing was coming in short pants, harsh and nervous. Her heartbeat was pounding in her chest. He wasn't sure if that was because of their position or because of his declaration. It didn't really matter to him either way. Her pulse was music to his ears and she shivered when his tongue snaked out to trace the pulsing vein along the column of her neck.

"It would be so easy," he purred in her ear as he used his knee as a wedge to spread her legs. "To ignore your protests, to do as I pleased. But I have something else in mind. You're not some common street trash, to be used and discarded with no disregard. You're better than that, love." She whimpered when he chastely kissed her lips before backing away to look her in the eye.

"No, I have plans for you, sweet. And they are not something as vile as defilement and murder," he told her with a look of distaste at the mere idea. "No, I'm going to make you love me." he said with a wide grin. Willow looked on, disconcerted by his now calm demeanor. She bit her lip nervously moved her hands to his, trying to remove them from her hips. Instead, he gripped her shaky hands in his, moving them above her head and holding them there with one strong hand encircling her wrists.

"You're going to beg me never to leave you," he told her, cruelly enjoying her worry and discomfort. "You'll never want to leave my arms. I'm going to make you plead to spend eternity with me. I'll be the only one you'll need. You'll crave me more than the precious air you breathe. But don't worry love, you'll enjoy every minute of it."

He kept her in that helpless position for another moment, saying nothing, just staring at her with clouded eyes.

"What makes you so sure of yourself?" she questioned as he let her go, turning his back to her as he headed to the fireplace, leaving her to rub her sore wrists.

"Because," he replied casually, spinning slowly on his heel to face her, head cocked to the side. "I know you. I know how you think, how you feel. I won you over once, I can do it again." She decided that she hated the smug smirk he wore. "Face it love, you won't be able to refuse me, not much longer. You already love me, pet. Now." he drawled with a wink. "I just have to get you to admit it."

"Get some sleep, my wife," he said dismissively, waving a hand in her direction. "Rest up while you can, you'll be begging soon enough."

~Part: 35~

Willow rested her head on the pillow behind her, propped up against the headboard rather uncomfortably. She hated these times, when Spike left her on her own for hours at a time. Part of her missed him, but mostly she hated the isolation. She had been captive in this house for close to three weeks, most of her time was spent alone in his bedroom. There had been occasions where he brought her with him into the sitting rooms, but being surrounded by all those vampires, many with less restraint than him, made her nervous.

Tonight had not been any different than the ones before. She woke late in the afternoon, growing accustomed to keeping similar hours to those of the rest of the house. Some minion would be sent in with some food for her to eat while Spike leisurely readied himself for the coming night. How they spent their time before dusk varied. Sometimes he was silent, other times he was constantly talking to her. The conversation was always about them, that never changed. His mood swings bothered her though.

At one moment he would be calm, speaking in hushed tones about their future and how she loved him, that he knew she did. The next he would growl and curse, sometimes throw things. He'd yell at her for being so stubborn, for not letting him in. She never knew which side of him she would encounter each night. Tonight he had been in a surprisingly good mood. The sun had set and he moved to her side, kissing her gently on the temple and whispering a goodbye as he left to feed. She did her best not to think about how he spent his nights, cavorting about London. She really didn't want to know.

It had been three hours since he had left, he usually didn't return for another hour or so. Midnight was the latest he normally came back, preferring to spend his night with her. The redhead picked at loose strands of thread on the comforter as she sat back on the bed. Sometimes, she would read while he was gone, having nothing better to do. But the day before, he had gotten angry with her and ended up throwing her only book in the fireplace, reducing it to ashes. He told her he would replace it, when he saw it fit to. Obviously he was still a little mad at her. She couldn't even remember what she had said to anger him; he was so easily set off these days.

She heard the lock that kept her confined to his room click and the door creaked as it was opened. Willow didn't bother to look to see who it was. There was only one person it could be. She heard the rustling of fabric as coats were removed and shoes were discarded. She moved to rest her chin on her knees, her rather flimsy shift the only thing keeping her from being completely bare to his gaze which she felt upon her.

The mattress she sat on drooped from the added weight as her companion took his seat next to her. He remained silent, to her dismay. He knew she hated the quiet. It got her thinking and that overactive mind of hers usually thought up horrible things that made her nervous and wary around him. He didn't mind, in fact he knew she was growing tired of his constant talking to her. So he'd give her what she wanted. He'd give her silence. Then she'd realize that silence is much more frightening than anything else.

The redhead glanced at the man next to her curiously. Spike was staring back at her, his gaze intense and yet not threatening. She looked away immediately and frowned when he chuckled lightly at her actions. She should be grateful for his good mood, she supposed.

"Lay down pet," he told her with a sigh as she remained sitting stiffly beside him. She hesitated but pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed as he stood to discard the remainder of his clothing before climbing into bed as well. The room wasn't particularly bright, one single gaslight still flickered. He maintained that a lot of light bothered his eyes. The walls were bathed in shadows which gave her surroundings an eerie glow.

Willow turned on her side, away from him. She closed her eyes tightly, praying she could fall asleep in a matter of moments so as to avoid the awkward conversations in between, but sleep was elusive at first. She was tense, waiting for his arms to slip around her, for him to nuzzle her neck and tell her that he loved her, that he needed her. But that never happened. Instead she found herself relaxing, her breathing calming down as she hovered on the brink of sleep.

Minutes passed and her eyes flickered closed one final time and she allowed herself to drift away. The blonde watched her turn from him, but said and did nothing to discourage her. It took nearly twenty minutes but she finally fell asleep. When he was sure she was sleeping deeply he gently rolled her onto her back, studying her features, his eyes caressing her.

His fingers traced her delicate cheekbone, trailing down to her jaw before slipping down to find his marks on her neck. It was times like these he took most pleasure in. When she slept, she wasn't fighting with him; she wasn't denying what she felt, what he felt. She leaned into his touch, she reveled in his attention. Her subconscious recognized her need for him. Now he had to make her acknowledge them in the waking hours.

A small "mmm." of longing escaped her lips unbidden when he brushed his lips across her neck. He smiled warmly as she pressed herself close to him. He murmured a soft "Willow." as he kissed her shoulder, delighted when she smiled sleepily. He could tell she was waking, but was still captured in that land of dreams as her eyes fluttered open, then shut once more. She moved to wrap herself around him, as she had done so many times before, her voice merely a whisper as she spoke.

"Will." He didn't resist when she kissed him, instead deepening the kiss in turn and pulling her closer. Her hand ran through his hair, her fingers playing with the silky strands at the end. Willow began to come to wakefulness as she registered the cold body she was holding. She pulled away from him, but was still trapped in his arms. "What are you doing?" she asked shakily.

"Not doin' a thing," he smirked. His hands rubbed the small of her back in slow circles, trying vainly to calm her.

"Let me go," she demanded weakly. He did nothing for a moment but she soon felt his arms release her and she sighed in relief. She sank further into the mattress, lying on her back, too nervous to look his way. She heard him move, felt the bed shift and tensed when she felt Spike rest his head gently on her abdomen. He had moved lower on the bed, resting on his stomach. His hands rested on her hips, his fingers tracing light patterns on the thin fabric that still covered her.

"I can hear it." he murmured as he inhaled, relaxing at the comforting scent of his wife. "I can hear it, can you?" he wondered softly, looking up at her with only his eyes, his head remaining as it was.

"Hear what?" she questioned, breathing in sharply.

"The heartbeat," he told her, grinning absently. "I can hear it, clear as day; a constant, pounding rhythm. I wonder if it's a boy.always pictured having a son. A girl wouldn't be bad though, she'd be a little princess. Probably look just like her mother." he rambled curiously.

Willow couldn't stop the tears that gathered in her eyes as she listened to him speak. She always pictured them like this, talking in loving, hushed tones about their lives together, about their family. This situation seemed so disturbingly normal. But nothing about this was normal. He wasn't her husband; he was just some demon with William's memories. But here he was, talking about her child.their child with a tone of eager delight.

"Have you thought about names?" he continued, ignoring her current discomfort. "I have. I like William for a boy, good strong name that," he said with a grin. "And for a girl, maybe Sarah, or Elizabeth. But there's still time to consider that." He moved up the bed, settling between her legs as he lightly rested his head on her shoulder, his mouth hovering close to her neck.

"I know you don't believe that I think about this," he muttered, ignoring how tense she was. "But you, this child, you're all I think about. I can't get you out of my head. Every bloody minute of the day it's you. I think about our future," he told her, his hands moving up and down her sides as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"I think about how much I want you," he said, hearing the hitch in her breathing. "How much I need you." He placed a cold kiss on her throat before lifting his head. "Do you need me too?" he asked with a dark grin. "I know you do."

Her breathing sped up as he kissed her cheek, first the right, then the left. He pressed his hips into hers as he lay more comfortably above her. Her face was flushed as she felt every inch of him against her. Her resolve was almost nonexistent since she had woken in his arms only minutes earlier and by now she couldn't think clearly. She locked eyes with him and froze.

Spike leaned down, kissing her chastely on the lips before resting his forehead on hers, looking deep into her eyes. "Kiss me." he pleaded softly. He could barely believe he was reduced to begging but he could tell she had lost all the fight left in her and all she needed was a tiny push in the right direction. She opened her mouth to protest, but shut it quickly. A shaky, tentative hand came up to brush his sharp cheekbone. He felt a chill from her wedding band and shivered. Her hand left his face to rest on the back of his neck as she hesitantly pulled him closer to her.

Both pairs of eyes, blue and green, closed at the first brush of their lips. Willow sighed and pulled him closer and he was all too happy to oblige, deepening the once uncertain kiss. He groaned involuntarily at the warmth of her mouth. His lips rarely left hers, only allowing her quick moments to steal needed air before returning his attention to her reddened mouth.

The redhead whimpered when his hands found the top of her night dress. He tried to remove the distracting fabric gently but quickly grew tired of the time it took. The blonde tugged sharply on the gown, ripping it down the middle and pulling it to the side and out of his way. The dress was nothing more than rags, lying tattered around her. His mouth finally released hers and trailed its way down her body, stopping for a moment to smile against her stomach as he heard her breathy moans.

"What do you want, love?" he mumbled, kissing her above her bellybutton and glancing up at her. She groaned and looked down at him. This was payback. He begged her to kiss him earlier, now he wanted her to beg. Bastard.

"Please." she whimpered. He slid up her body and hovered above her with a devious grin.

"Tell me," he demanded, willing to wait all night if he had to.

"You," she whispered shamefully. "I want you."

"I knew I could get you to admit it," he teased as he slipped an arm around her waist. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt him move slowly into her, gasping sharply as he thrust harder.

"God.Red," he growled, reveling in the unexpected heat. He felt her move against him slightly and groaned. He started a slow pace but he was having a difficult time keeping it so. She felt so good and he had wanted this for so long. "I've missed this love." he whispered in her ear, her answer came in the form of a breathy moan.

She felt the familiar tightening inside her and her hands tightened their grip on his shoulders, her nails digging into the skin. She was so close and her eyes flew open as she hit her peak, letting out a loud moan. She distantly heard a deep snarl and felt Spike jerk sharply before collapsing on top of her, placing butterfly kisses along the length of her neck.

Willow's hand reached up to bring his face to hers. She brushed a stray lock of hair away from his handsome face and smiled tiredly. All she could see was him, her William, as Spike looked down on her, his blue eyes captivating.

She sighed and closed her eyes, "I love you Will." she mumbled before turning her head to the side, her breathing slowing as she began to relax into a deep sleep. He moved to lie next to her, his gaze never leaving her, a familiar possessiveness filling him as he grinned in satisfaction and utter triumph.

"Mine."

~Part: 36~

She wondered what it was like outside, whether it was unseasonably warm, or perhaps a bit chilly. She wondered if the trees had finally began to sprout new leaves of green, replacing those that had dried up and drifted away during the fall and winter. Such thoughts were pointless really. She didn't get to see the outside of the manor; instead she was confined inside the stifling walls of this house.

Willow lay in bed, huddled underneath the cool sheets that covered her. She couldn't quiet her mind. She was contemplating everything that had changed; the weather, her surroundings, but namely, the vampire that was currently sleeping beside her.

That wasn't anything new. Ever since he brought her back to London they had shared a room, and a bed. But before the last evening, they slept together only in the most literal sense. But now the situation had changed. She was shamed of her actions. He was a demon; he had no code of morals and ethics. What did it matter to him what he did? But she had no such luxury. She always thought things to death; it was a habit that she had tried to break for many years before just giving up. William always liked the way she over thought everything, he thought it was endearing. She didn't think Spike found it so sweet. He probably found it amusing, a trivial aspect of her personality.

And she felt stupid. That might seem a bit harsh, but it was true. She was just so tired. Tired of being held captive, tired of fighting with the villain wearing her husband's face, just plain exhausted. So the night before, when the blonde returned to the manor early, she had tried to ignore him, as she usually did. And he didn't say a thing, didn't even touch her. Then came the dreams. They were nothing new. Ever since his death, William had been a constant reoccurrence in her most vivid dreams. The soft-spoken poet would simply hold her, pet her hair, tell her everything would work out if she was patient, if she had faith. And she had reached for him, to pull him closer in a vain attempt to never leave the safety of his arms, even if it was just a dream.

But she felt as if she was being pulled away, and she realized she was waking. There were still arms around her, lips on her neck, a voice whispering her name. And it was her Will. Willow felt her mind fighting for control, doing its best to scream at her that this was not her William. But that voice was barely a muddled garble of words to her ears and she found herself falling. But now, in the harsh light of day, the truth was glaring at her and she felt horrible.

She had done the worst thing imaginable. She had given herself to the vile creature wearing her charming poet's face. And she had enjoyed it. The thoughts came back to her once more. What would he think of her now, her William? Would he forgive her, would he understand? Or would he see her actions as a betrayal? Would he be disgusted with her? No, of course not. He was never capable of feelings such as those. The man she knew felt so many emotions, but none of those were hate or loathing.

Turning onto her side, the redhead studied the vampire next to her. He was as still as death, no big surprise there. His chest did not rise nor fall with necessary breath. His skin, while pale before, lost any of its coloring leaving him an almost pasty white. But despite all this, he was still so beautiful. That might be a strange word when describing a man, but everything else escaped her. His features were sharp; his cheekbones looked as if they could cut glass. His eyes, even though they were closed now, were an icy blue and entirely captivating. His lips entranced her, whether they were split into a wide, genuine smile, or twisted into a mocking smirk. Dirty blonde hair, curled ever so slightly, fell around his face, giving him an almost boyish appearance.

Reaching out with a tentative hand, Willow touched his face. Her fingers felt like fire compared to his chilled skin. She traced his cheekbone, then his jaw, staring at him intently. Her hand ran through the soft waves of his hair, doing her best not to disturb him. She didn't want him to wake, she honestly hadn't figured out what to say to him.

I love you Will, she had spoken those words while drifting to sleep the night before. She wondered if he knew the truth. If he knew she wasn't speaking to him, about him. Spike was so arrogant; he probably thought she was professing her love to him. But she wasn't. When she looked at him as he stared down at her, she remembered a time only weeks before when they had been in such similar positions. So that evening, as he hovered above with those entrancing blue eyes watching her with a dazed look, she only saw her Will. She missed him so much.

Her attention once again returned to the body beside her. She moved her hand away, her fingers brushing his shoulder as she slowly and methodically scooted away from the blonde and to the end of the bed. She searched with wide green eyes for the nearest piece of clothing she could use to cover herself, satisfied when she found his shirt and slipped it on. Willow fastened most of the buttons so she was relatively covered before glancing back to the bed.

To her relief, Spike was still unmoving. He lay on his back, sheet slung low on his bare hips, one arm at his side, the other bent at the elbow and raised slightly above his head. She looked to the door, considering her options. It was daytime, possibly around two or three in the afternoon. Sunshine peeked around the edges of the draperies used to shield him from the deadly rays. Biting her lip, she tiptoed toward the doorway. Her destination seemed further and further away with each step she took but soon enough she was there.

Her shaking hand rested on the doorknob, praying for silence as she went to turn it in her grip.

"Wouldn't do that, pet."

His voice was like a physical shock to her system. Her hand dropped to her side, as if to imply that she never had any intention of reaching for the door. Her head was bent, eyes on the floor. She knew she should turn around. He probably wanted her full attention and she knew she should keep a watchful eye on him, but she remained as she was.

The bed creaked as Spike sat up, resting comfortably with his back against the headboard. His arms crossed his bare chest and a teasing grin was plastered on his handsome face. He cocked his head to the side as he waited for her to do something. To argue with him, to deny her plans, to even look his way, but she did nothing. He took the time to study her form. She looked positively gorgeous, clothed only in his shirt, her hair mussed and in disarray.

"Come here," he ordered sharply. His barked command caused her to jump but she eventually complied. The redhead turned on her heel slowly and took small steps his way, head still down. She hated that she looked so damn.submissive. He held out his left hand to her and grinned when she hesitantly placed hers in his grip. He pulled her gently onto his lap, causing her to straddle him nervously. One hand gripped her hip, occasionally squeezing the flesh before resting once more. The other laid on her neck, his thumb caressing the length of her throat as he watched her with hooded eyes.

"Are you insane?" he asked with a chortle of laughter, causing her to glance at him in confusion and a little annoyance. "Daytime or not, you would have every sodding vamp in this bloody house fighting to get to you if you stepped one foot out of that door." He shook his head as he grinned mockingly.

"Look at you, love.where do you think you could run to in just a bloke's shirt?" His voice became nothing more than a murmur as his gaze fell to her chest which was heaving with the deep breaths she was taking to calm herself. "Even if you were lucky enough to make it out of this house, no one would help you. After all, you look thoroughly ravished; any commoner could mistake you for a streetwalker. Just peddling your precious wares for money," he tsked with an exaggerated sigh.

"Stop it," she whispered pleadingly. He saw her bottom lip start to tremble and groaned.

"Bloody hell," he grimaced to himself. "I'm sorry, love, I'm just a bad, rude man. But I don't want to see you get hurt. If you do something stupid like leave by yourself, you're gonna get hurt. If the minions don't get you, Angelus or I will. I don't want to hurt you baby, but I will if I have to."

She was shaking now and he moved his hands to her back, stroking up and down gently in an effort to relax her. He saw a teardrop fall from her eye, born out of frustration and infinite sadness. He moaned softly, pulling her forward to kiss away her tears. He brushed the drops away from her cheeks with his thumbs and smiled warmly in what she considered a mocking parody of intimacy.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmured, kissing her chastely on the mouth before moving to look her in the eyes. "You know that right? You know I love you. You love me too." He buried his face in her neck, placing a kiss along her shoulder. "Tell me again, like you did last night. Tell me you love me."

His pleas sounded surprisingly desperate to her ears and Willow felt even more confused by his actions and the emotions that he appeared to harbor. She knew he was a demon, and demons couldn't love, she swore that was the truth. But he sounded so utterly sincere. He could have been playing with her, for all she knew, but in her heart she knew he wasn't. He was being honest, and she felt the need to do the same.

Feeling his arms tighten around her waist, she sighed and sniffled before resting her cheek on the top of his head. "I love who you used to be."

~Part: 37~

There is a moment in a person's life when they sincerely regret their words or actions. Unfortunately for Willow, she didn't just have one moment in her life; she had several, tonight being one of them. When Spike had pleaded with her to tell her that she loved him, she should have remained silent, maybe tried to placate him. But instead she opened her mouth and immediately regretted her words. I love who you used to be. He didn't take that too well, not that she expected him to. The vampire wasn't notoriously reasonable.

His head was buried in her neck and she stiffened in his arms when she felt his jaw clench against her. That made her wary of his next actions. When Spike was angry, he would inevitably lash out, but she had learned that when Spike was quick to act, he was annoyed, not furious. But when he was silent, when he became still as a statue, he was irate. That was when he was to be truly feared.

"I-I'm sorry." she whispered nervously, her face still pressed to his hair. His hands stilled their movement on her back as he listened to her silently. Her shaking hands moved to his tousled hair, running her fingers gently through the soft strands in an attempt to calm him. "I.I didn't mean that Will."

He didn't move at first, but she frowned when she felt a tremor pass through his body, then another. And she realized he was laughing. The sound didn't reassure her, it wasn't meant to. It was a dark, spiteful chuckle. His lips, still pressed against her neck, curled into a sardonic grin.

"Liar." She opened and closed her mouth as she tried to find her elusive speech. The small woman shook her head as his laughter quieted.

"Tell me," he demanded sharply, his voice muffled. "Tell me you love me, and mean it," he growled. She hissed in surprise when she felt his icy tongue trace a line up the column of her neck before nipping warningly at her pulse point. "Now."

"Y-You know I love you Will," she told him, cursing her trembling voice. His deep sigh bothered her but he made no move to let her go.

"Now see, you don't seem to get it," he declared. "That's not good enough. You think you can fool me. You say 'I love you Will' and you think I'll just smile and believe you. You still love him, that pathetic, useless ponce who wrote bloody awful poetry and whispered sweet-nothings in your ear. So you can say that you love Will and be completely honest. But I'm not gonna fall for that. You tell me that you love *me*."

He heard her shaky exhalation and snarled when she still didn't speak. Pulling back, his arms released their hold on her waist and one hand wound its way into her hair, tugging sharply as a reminder that he was still waiting for her response.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked, flinching at the slight pain he inflicted.

"Say my name," he growled, his blue eyes practically glowing, she could see the gold striations and knew he was barely controlling his demon.

"Spike," Willow started, relaxing a bit when he loosened his hold on her hair a little. "Spike.I.I can't." she whispered sorrowfully. It was times like these when she wished she was a talented actress. She would have given anything at that very moment to be able to speak words of love, no matter how insincere, and make them sound believable. She wouldn't have fooled him, most likely, but at least she could have tried her best to seem honest.

The resounding crack of the back of his hand along her cheek was unexpected and startling. Her body fell backward at the force, landing with a soft thud on the mattress. She heard Spike's enraged snarl as he grabbed her legs, which remained straddling his waist, and threw them away from him. The bed shifted abruptly as the redhead, now on laying flat on her back, saw Spike get up, pacing furiously the length of the room.

Her glazed green eyes met his amber ones as he turned and stared at her, seemingly contemplating what to do with her. He didn't even bother to hide his demonic façade from her, instead relishing in the scent of her growing fear as she looked at him. She wanted to turn away, to close her eyes and block out the sight of the man she loved, his face twisted into a sick parody of its former beauty. But she couldn't bring herself to look away.

She found him fascinating in a disturbing way. He radiated barely restrained power and fury, pure animal rage and instinct. But he was still so distinctly human. His back was straight, not hunched nor was he doubled over. His hands were curled into tight fists at his side, but they were still hands, not claws. When he walked, no matter how tense he was, he carried himself with graceful swiftness. The only telling features that betrayed his human appearance were the jagged teeth, striking golden eyes, and the ridges that marred his face. At any other time, he could easily be mistaken for just another man, and what a fatal mistake that would be.

Tentatively sitting up, Willow hugged herself with one arm across her stomach. Her free hand moved to cradle her tender cheek, sure that the side of her face was a harsh red. She wasn't looking forward to the painful swelling that would accompany the inevitable bruise.

The blonde held her gaze for a moment longer before allowing his frightful mask to fade away, now looking at her with stormy blue eyes. A sad, angry, yet pitiful grin tugged at his lips as he considered her.

"He's dead," he muttered contemptuously, his statement causing her to frown. "Your precious husband, the git you're so bloody loyal to, the prig is dead." He saw her falter a little, her eyes luminous as tears began to gather.

"Oh save it," he groaned at the thought of her crying once more. "This isn't exactly a new revelation, pet. I'm just so damn tired, so bloody sick and tired of having to deal with the shadow of your William." He took a few steps in her direction, his face darkening in frustration by the second. He glared down at her before smirking devilishly.

"You want to hear a secret?" he asked teasingly, no love or sympathy in his cold voice. "You came second in his heart. Whether it was Cecily, or even his sodding mother, he always loved someone more than he loved you. What he felt for his mummy was platonic, of course, but so much more intense than what he felt for you. She had been his life for so long. Did you think you could take her place in his heart?" He paused for a moment, savoring the utterly distraught expression on her face.

"Or Cecily, can't forget about her, can we? William never did. He wanted her, never stopped. Even with his last, dying breath he longed for her. He wouldn't tell you this, he didn't want to hurt your feelings after all. Did you really think you could erase all those months of adoration and puppy love from his mind with your presence? He cared for you, maybe even loved you in his own way, but he lusted for her. That never changed, even when he bedded you he would think of her." Tears fell freely from her wide eyes now but he paid them no mind.

"Now, tell me how you can be so loyal to a fool who fantasized about shagging that bitch, even as you lay beside him?!" he snarled cruelly, upset and wanting more than anything to hurt her.

Her quiet weeping had progressed to heaving sobs, occasionally she would gasp for air but the tears never let up. She glared at him hatefully, her eyes now bloodshot, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"You're a lying bastard." Her voice was thick with tears, but it never wavered. She looked into his eyes, silently amazed when the anger and hate melted from them, replaced with frustration and even a bit of shame.

"Yeah," he confirmed with a loathsome chuckle. "I am."

"He loved me," she whispered harshly, studying him as she spoke. "More than her, more than anyone."

"Yeah, he did," the blonde replied, turning his head away from her. "But so do I."

"Why did you say that?" she asked pleadingly, needing to know why he had been so cruel.

"I give you all of me," he muttered, stumbling away from the bed and leaning against the fireplace mantle. "I tell you I love you; that I need you, and you don't care. You tell me you love a man who's dead, the man I *used* to be. I can give you so much more than he could, I could give you eternity, if you'd just let me. All I have asked you to do is let me love you. Yet you'd rather live in the past, continue loving *him* when I'm right here, begging you to love me. Not good enough, never good enough," he growled pitifully and Willow found herself honestly feeling bad for him. She remembered a time when William said the same thing, thinking he would never be good enough for the likes of her cousin. She didn't want to be responsible for Spike's pain, at least not that kind of pain.

"I wanted you to hate him," he shouted. "I thought maybe if you hated him, you would consider loving me. Bloody pathetic." He was ashamed of his own weakness. Spinning on his heel, he slammed his fist into the nearest wall, sending a mass of debris onto the floor. He yanked his arm free, the appendage now bloody and cut.

Willow jumped when he suddenly punched the wall but she was immediately concerned when she saw the amount of blood spilling from his various wounds. He didn't look like the strong, confident Spike she had come to know. Right then, he seemed so vulnerable, on the verge of a total breakdown. He seemed fragile.

Forgetting her earlier fear and anger, she crawled off the bed hurriedly and ran to the other side of the room, reaching for his injured arm. The blonde was gazing at the floor and hissed when he felt her warm touch on his arm. He shied away from her hand and growled when she stubbornly took another step toward him and grabbed his wrist gently.

"Stop," she ordered softly at his continued fidgeting. She spotted a water basin near the bathroom and a tattered rag and left him to gather the items. Leading his reluctant and taut form back to the bed, she sat him down and caressed his scraped and cut arm with the warm rag. Hazy blue-gray eyes watched her underneath hooded lids, surprised that she actually gave a damn that he had hurt himself. "What were you thinking?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "I was thinking I was pissed."

"You could have hurt yourself badly," she reprimanded, her fear of him completely vanishing as she cleaned him.

"Like you care." Frowning, Willow glanced up at him, amazed at the profound sadness she found etched on his face.

"I care about you, Spike," she told him, looking him straight in the eye so he knew she wasn't lying.

"But you don't love me," he said tonelessly. She didn't answer him that time, instead finishing up her work and putting the basin away. With a sigh of regret, he laid on his back, sinking into the mattress and staring blankly up at the ceiling. She joined him a minute later, climbing onto her side of the bed silently, facing the wall.

Willow said nothing when his arms found their way around her waist once more, instead turning in his embrace and snuggling closer to his cool body. Spike pulled her even closer, nestling his face in her hair. He wished she could love him.

~Part: 38~
 

Seated all together in the parlor, the foursome looked rather striking. The two brunettes were sprawled across the chaise, Drusilla resting comfortably next to Angelus, her head on his chest, her fingers tracing designs on his free arm, the other lazily draped across her midsection. Spike had taken a seat on the rather large piece of furniture, reportedly a sofa, although it was overly decorative and lavish. It gave the impression of great wealth, although who it was supposed to impress was anyone's guess. Willow was next to the blonde, their joined hands lying on his lap, her head down and tilted to the side, never looking at the couple across from her.

She did that out of habit, look away. There was no real reason for it. Angelus had never openly threatened to harm her if she looked him in the eye, and Drusilla never spoke a menacing word to her. But still, they were very much the enemy, predators, and she was nothing more to them than prey.

Angelus watched his childe and his obsession, amusement clouding his features. The blonde was quiet, which was unusual. He had been for almost a week now. He spoke briskly, his tone harsh and clipped when he dealt with any of the minions. Even in the presence of his sire, Spike was moody and evasive. At first, Angelus was annoyed by his attitude, furious that he had the nerve to treat him like some pathetic fledgling. But Drusilla did what she does best, calm him, pacify him, and make him listen to reason.

Spike's poor attitude had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the tiny redhead sitting next to him. She was a strong one, that girl. That amazed him, he never expected Willow to actually have a backbone. He was sure she would be easily influenced and persuaded. Not worthy of such obsession and dedication his childe had bestowed upon her. But she had quickly realized her place, acknowledged the reality of her situation, and instead of folding under the pressure like he thought she would; she fought back.

She never raised a hand to any one of them, she never shouted threats she could never imagine to follow through on, she didn't carry on and on, bawling and whining. No, she did as she was told, was obedient and diligent, but she rejected the blonde at every turn, ignored his advances, to summarize, she infuriated him.

At least she used to reject his advances. But only days before Angelus had come across the ever feuding couple, he smelled them all over each other. He was curious. She had obviously given in, but now Spike seemed more on edge than ever. And Willow, she seemed almost guilt-ridden, as if she felt bad for the blonde's current emotional state. Interesting.

He studied the couple across from him once more. Willow was averting her gaze. He smirked, he liked that about her. No matter the civilized conversations they occasionally had, or all the times Dru brushed her hair and petted her like a doll, the redhead still had the commonsense to be afraid of them. He had no reservations about killing the girl if she became truly troublesome, whether the boy wanted him to or not. But he reluctantly respected her, a grimace passed over his face at that. He hated respecting humans.

"So how is our happy couple?" wondered the eldest as he grinned over Dru's head. He enjoyed their reactions to his question. Spike growled deep in his throat and Willow sunk further into the cushions, biting her lip at Spike's displeased snarl.

"Maybe they need some time apart?" he considered, looking to Drusilla. She sat up a little, resting her chin on his chest as she peered at him with a drowsy smile on her pretty face. "You could always go hunting with Dru," he suggested glancing at Spike. "I'd be more than happy to keep little Willow company while you were gone," he purred, turning his heated gaze to the nervous redhead. She was always so jumpy around him, it was entertaining.

"Bugger off you nosy git," Spike sneered.

"What the matter Spikey? Trouble in paradise?" he taunted, ignoring Drusilla who was squeezing his arm in warning.

"Shut your gob," the Englishman barked, his eyes flashing amber.

"Oh, now he's angry," he drawled with a chuckle. "Well, at least that's a welcome change to the whipped puppy whose been dragging his arse around here for the past week. Is your big plan to get the girl turning to shambles?"

"I am no whipped puppy, you nit!" yelled Spike as he jumped from his seat. He was visibly tense, coiled and posed to strike if the opportunity presented itself. But Angelus just remained casually lounging in the chaise, holding Dru close.

"Spike." whispered Willow, glancing to the blonde, ignoring the curious looks shot her way by the other couple. Spike turned a little to face her, his human visage still in place, except for the gleaming gold eyes. The redhead tentatively stood, placing a small hand on his arm, feeling the muscles bunched underneath his skin. "Please.relax." she begged, not wanting him to lose his temper because of Angelus' taunting.

Her words were soothing, calming to the blonde vampire. Her soft touch on his arm, her hand rubbing up and down caused the amber to fade from his icy blue eyes. She knew Angelus was only needling him for the fun of it. That was something about the eldest that angered her. He took great delight in mocking and degrading the blonde, it was like a sport to him. But she didn't want Spike to get so angry over something so stupid; a relaxed Spike was preferable to a furious one. So she stepped in to stop him from pummeling his sire.

Angelus snorted when he saw Spike's shoulders relax and the fury bleed out of the vampire, all from the touch of that girl.

"Just like I said.whipped," he laughed, ignorant of Drusilla's disapproving gaze. He was disappointed when he wasn't even rewarded with a growl from Spike. The blonde was too busy staring into those green eyes that could hypnotize man and demon alike.

Willow smiled shakily when she saw that he was calm. He was so unpredictable. That was the only thing she had really learned about him, even after all these weeks she had been here. No matter how much she watched him, studied his moods, she never fully understood him. One second he could be furious, the next he could be withdrawn, sullen.

They didn't speak much anymore. He had given her a few books, some to read, some blank so she could write in them. They passed the time while he was gone. Rarely, he took her on a walk around London, just to bask in the beauty of the night. He told her the moonlight made her hair shine like fire. But mostly, her time was spent in his room. When he returned, they would occasionally spend mornings with Angelus and Dru, like today. Other times he would just prepare for bed and crawl under the covers, waiting until she was lying next to him before going to sleep.

There was no fighting; no more declarations of love on either parts, but things weren't comfortable. He was so tense most of the time, and she never knew what to do. Part of her wanted to comfort him, hating to see anyone suffering. But the logical part of her screamed that he was responsible for her confinement, she shouldn't feel bad for him.

Spike purred when her hand left his arm to caress his face, seeing that beautiful smile on her face. His eyes drifted closed as he felt the familiar tightening in his stomach at the feel of her light touch. He hated keeping his distance from her, but he was tired of being rejected and scorned, so he had done his best to leave her be.

But tonight, when Angelus started in on him, he couldn't contain his resentment. He hated having his elder just throw his failures in his face. He wanted nothing more than to make the git bleed, show him that he was no whipped puppy. He was tempted to prove to his sire that he had complete control over Willow, but all that anger, all the need for dominance drained from him the moment she touched him, the moment she pleaded with him to calm down. He looked into those luminous green eyes and felt a desperate longing. He wanted her to love him, needed her to love him. But more than anything, right now he just needed her.

He gripped her hand in his, drawing it away from his cheek and placing a soft kiss on her palm. His eyes never left hers and he smiled faintly at the increase in her heartbeat. The others in the room were forgotten as they stared at each other. His hand reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear and she could see the silent pleading in his gaze.

"This is nauseating," groaned Angelus, bored with their display.

"I think its sweet.like cakes and candy." murmured Dru, smiling sleepily. She watched as Spike clasped both of the redhead's hands in his, pulling her gently out of the parlor, their eyes still locked. "He burns for her.poor sweet William."

"And what of his fiery girl? Does she burn for him?"

"She doesn't burn, love. He makes her melt." she grinned as she moved up his body, nipping at his neck.

"Mmm, and is that good?" he murmured.

"Oh, it's wonderful." Dru bit down a little more, eliciting a growl from her sire, squealing in delight when he wrapped a hand in her hair and tugged her harshly to his mouth. She always loved it when he got rough.
~~~*~~~
 

Willow was pulled out of her trance-like state when she heard the bedroom door shut behind them. The room was bathed in darkness, the only light coming from the dwindling fire in the fireplace. Spike noticed her return to awareness and watched her with hooded eyes. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, but he was afraid that she would pull away. There were not many things he feared in this world, but that had him terrified.

"What happened back there Spike?" she asked softly.

"Angelus-stupid prat, he's just loves pissing me off. I'm not inferior damn it! Like he's so bloody perfect," he scoffed with a derisive snort. But there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, a sense of defeat in his posture that told her he wasn't as unaffected as he tried to convince her. "I'm not whipped.housebroken." He wasn't sure what he was anymore. He thought he could make her love him, but he had failed at that. "I'm strong, I'm feared, I." he trailed off, his voice fading as did his conviction.

"I-I need you pet." he whispered, being completely honest. He wasn't asking for her love, for more than she was willing or able to give. He was just asking for her, no strings attached. She ran her fingers hesitantly through his shaggy dirty blonde hair and she smiled nervously.

"I know," she replied. He was wound so tight. This past week he was so restrained, it was taking a toll on him. He was never a patient one, and add that to Angelus' suggestion that he was not demon enough, and he was on the verge of snapping. She had done her best to calm him in the parlor, which worked well enough for the moment, but he needed more. She was well aware of that and for some reason, she wanted to help him. He may be Spike, a demon, but he had shown her his desperate need for her love, and that reminded her more of William every minute.

She placed a chaste kiss on his lips and he sighed.

"Can you make it better, love? Just for now?" Willow knew this was probably a bad decision on her part, but she couldn't deny him, and if she admitted the truth, she didn't want to deny him.

"Yes, Spike," she replied breathily, pulling him into her arms and nuzzling his neck. "Let me make it better."

~Part: 39~

It was early morning now, just a little after dawn. Most of the minions had found themselves places to rest the day away, Angelus and Drusilla no doubt did the same. Spike was sleeping as well, so peacefully. Willow had not joined the rest of the house in slumber. Her head felt like it was spinning, so fast and out of control. The blonde had nodded off only a half an hour before, but Willow couldn't bring herself to relax just yet.

She felt exhausted, he had kept her up most of the night. She harbored no regrets for offering herself to the vampire beside her. He was so much more than he seemed. He wasn't some two-dimensional evil figure, driven only to hurt others and revel in the pain he caused. He was capable of hurt, of immense pain, he was still so.human.

His immense love for her had driven them both to tears. But he was also so volatile, so quick to anger. This environment, this house, it wasn't safe. Not for her, not for her child. Even if Spike was suddenly on his best behavior, this was a house filled with vampires, all of whom would love nothing more than to kill her. As much as she hated being confined to his room, she hated leaving even more.

When they would step foot out his bedroom, there would be eyes on her. Yellow, hungry, evil eyes. They followed her movements, every step she made. Even after being threatened by both Spike and Angelus, they didn't stop. She was always relieved when he decided to take her out into the city. At least for that short while she was far from vampires plotting her bloody death. Then there were the times they joined Angelus and Drusilla in the parlor. That time was spent by conversing about nothing important, Angelus mocking Spike, Spike blowing up, and Drusilla practically throwing herself at her sire. Willow rarely factored into the evening. She usually remained quiet and docile, praying they would forget that she was there. She didn't exactly have many happy moments in this house.

But tonight bothered her. Not Angelus' teasing, not Spike's depressing reaction to it all, but her actions. She let him use her. She had never done that before. It was the ultimate selfless act, she supposed. But that didn't make it any better. There were feelings, feelings she wasn't willing or prepared to acknowledge. Seeing Spike hurting made her hurt. Seeing that utterly defeated look in his usually expressive eyes, it crushed her. So she did what was necessary to erase those painful emotions still so visible.

Shifting in the bed, Willow rested on her side, watching her sleeping companion. He was laying on his back, head tilted to the side slightly, a small smile on his otherwise slack face. She smiled sadly and brushed a lock of his hair away from his eyes. Her eyes fell to the band on her finger, her wedding ring. Her William had presented to her, Spike had given it back to her. She wasn't sure what to do with it. She wanted to keep it, it reminded her of Will. But a part of her told her it was time to take it off. Will was gone, and even though Spike remained, he wasn't the one who gave her this ring. She wasn't married anymore, so wearing a wedding band seemed silly. But she hated the idea of letting it go.

Slipping out of bed, she winced slightly, still a little sore from her activities from the night before. The redhead searched the armoire across the room, finally pulling out a simple but suitable gown. She dressed in the burgundy fabric silently, peeking over to the bed ever few minutes to check on the sleeping vampire. He never stirred.

She spotted a chain, part of a necklace Spike occasionally wore, lying on the writing desk by the fireplace. She grabbed the thin gold piece and slid off the pendant. Contemplating the item in front of her, she removed her wedding ring and slid it onto the chain. She clasped it in the back and centered the ring along her collarbone. This seemed right. She wasn't wearing it on her ring finger, but it was still a part of her, still close to her heart.

Willow never bothered to brush her hair, deciding it was unimportant. She moved to the windows noiselessly, pulling the heavy draperies to the side slightly, confirming that the sun was now up. It was. That was good.

Walking back to the bed, she glanced down at Spike. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't remain here, with him, and stay sane. He was always running hot and cold. She could never predict his next move, and that worried her. She was afraid to let herself close to him, afraid to lose those feelings she harbored deep in her heart for William. She felt like it would be a betrayal, a mockery of their love. But she cared for Spike, that she could no longer deny. She might even grow to love him, and that scared her. Loving a demon would most certainly bring nothing but death and pain, to her, to her loved ones. It had happened before, it could easily happen again.

So she was leaving. This was the best time to make an escape. Most of the vampires had fallen into a deep sleep, only a few would still be awake to keep guard. Her real challenge would be to get out the front door without making too much noise. If Spike woke, she feared his retaliation.

She brushed her fingers across his forehead and down to his cheek. Leaning down ever so quietly, she placed a whisper of a kiss across his lips. He murmured and shifted but didn't wake. She grinned down at his handsome face, her brave façade faltering as he turned to her side of the bed.

"Mmm.love you pet." he mumbled sleepily before burrowing deeper under the covers. Her hands gripped her skirts tightly as she backed away from the bed, her emerald eyes filling with unshed tears. She searched the room, looking for the last item she needed. Spying the weapon she had hidden away a mere week before, she knelt and slid the stake securely in her palm. It had taken awhile to make the weapon out of a piece of broken and discarded wood, but she had done it. She never had any intention of using it on Spike, unless it was down to his life or hers. She fashioned it for this final moment, when she would make her escape. She had a feeling she was going to need it.

Reaching the bedroom door, her hand was placed on the knob timidly. The last time she tried this, Spike had been awake, now he made no sound. Reassured that she could pull this off, she turned the knob slowly, relieved that he had forgotten to lock it the night before. The door pulled free of the jamb and opened without a creak.

Stepping out into the short and unpopulated hallway, Willow took a deep breath and took another step forward. She walked with her back against the wall, assuring that no one could sneak up on her from behind. She looked over her shoulder every few seconds just in case a furious Spike came barreling out of his room, he never did.

When she was close to the end of the hall, she encountered a lone minion, with his back to her. Knowing she had little time due to the fact that he could hear her heartbeat, her footsteps quickened. The burly vampire spun on his heel, his eyes glazed over as he spotted her. He grinned widely and took a step forward, lunging at the girl with a snarl. She flinched but let out a relieved sigh when his expression turned confused, then angry before he exploded into a cloud of dust. He never expected the little girl to be armed.

There wasn't much time to enjoy her small victory. He unfortunately did not have the decency to die quietly, his snarling and growling bound to have woken someone. She began to jog, almost running to the front door. She heard the distant rumble of growling and the slamming of a door as her hand landed on the doorknob, but refused to turn to see who was coming.

An icy hand shot out to grasp her right arm in a harsh grip. But she maintained her purchase on the door with her left. She turned the knob quickly and pulled with all her might, the door flinging open from her effort. The hand holding her prisoner emitted a painful heat before it released her. The sunlight, it had burned her pursuer. She never thought she would be so happy to see the sun as she was now.

She scrambled out the front door, pausing just outside when she heard the one voice she didn't think she could bear to hear.

"Willow!" called Spike, his voice tinged with desperation and hurt. She hesitantly turned to face him, remaining in the safety of the sunlight. He was dazed, clutching his still smoking hand as he stared at her. His icy blue eyes bore into hers, lost and panicked. He hadn't even had the time to dress properly, his pants hung precariously low on his lips and he was sans shirt, his hair in wild curls, and he was taking deep, unneeded breaths to calm himself. His expression almost caused her heart to break in two. He was confused, no doubt still groggy from sleep. And scared, that shocked her to the core. He was honestly frightened, absolutely terrified of letting her get away. His hand was smoking, but he would be okay, thankfully.

Tears came to her eyes as he looked pleadingly at her, wishing she would just come back inside and shut the door, that they could just forget this ever happened.

"Please love," he begged, moving as close as he possibly could to the door without bursting into flames. "Come back, Red. Don't do this baby, please don't do this." Seeing him so distraught, she almost gave in, but she knew she couldn't, it would cost her everything. Hugging herself tightly, she couldn't hold his piercing gaze any longer, now staring at the cobblestone pathway away from the manor.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, a lone tear falling down her cheek. "I can't do this." Her hand reached for her necklace and the ring that hung there, gripping the band tightly. She forced herself to look up, not surprised to see Angelus and Drusilla hovering in the background, watching intently. She found the blonde's gaze and took a shaky breath.

"I do love you Spike," she told him, finally whispering those words he so longed to hear. His eyes widened at her declaration. She said that she loved him, Spike, not William or Will. That was all he ever wanted to hear, but her words were also meant as a goodbye and that made his stomach turn. With that, she was gone.

~Part: 40~

He stared blankly at the open door, the sunlight causing him to squint. She left. She told him she loved him and just.left. He wanted to be furious, to rip everything and everyone in his path to shreds. He wanted to scream at her. But he couldn't. He wasn't angry, he was stunned. And more than anything, he was heartbroken. Was it so easy for her to leave him without one backward glance? Did she not see how badly he needed her? Could she just walk away from him without a second thought?

That bitch. Spike growled unconsciously, causing the few minions in the room to take a step back. How dare she throw him away like garbage! His love for her, undying and all-consuming, meant nothing to her. She didn't care that he couldn't imagine life without her, the stupid bint probably fancied herself better than him. She probably thought he was beneath her. And right now, he hated her.

It was a lie, he had to acknowledge. He didn't hate her, he never could. Even when he first woke, when he re-entered the world a demon, his thoughts revolved around her. Even filled with bloodlust, his impulse wasn't to kill her. Turn her maybe, but not kill her. She was his wife, his Willow, his eternal love. And she had vanished into the punishing rays of the sun.

There was nothing he could do. At least not for another few hours. It was just now the break of day, the sun wouldn't be setting for quite some time and no one inside the manor was capable of venturing outside the protective walls. She was lost to him, if only for a few hours. And he feared that there would be no leads as to her whereabouts. He couldn't help it, he was the eternal pessimist. He just didn't know what to do. Planning was never his thing, besides, he was too emotional right now. He couldn't think when he was emotional.

He was reeling from the loss of her. But most of all, he couldn't get past her parting words. She loved him, she loved Spike. That was all he ever wanted from her, the love he knew she would eventually feel for him once more. And now he had his proof, she finally admitted the truth. He wanted to pull her into his arms, shower her with kisses, lose himself in her warmth.

The front door slammed shut minutes after it was thrown open by the redhead. One of the minions had decided that he had enough of staring at the deadly sunlight, pushing the heavy wooden door shut from the shadows. The loud noise woke Spike from his stupor and he shook his head with a growl. He glared at the presumptuous minion with amber eyes, the younger vampire stepping back and raising his hands in front of him in silent surrender.

"Well?" drawled a bored voice from behind the blonde. Spike spun slowly on his heel, fixing Angelus with an unwavering stare.

"Well what?" he snapped, watching as the tall brunette smiled slightly at the feel of Drusilla's arms slipping around his waist.

"What are you going to do now, boy? You didn't go to so much trouble to get the girl just to let her go."

"Nothing I can do," he countered, stalking closer to his calm sire. "I'm stuck inside this bloody rat-hole until sunset, as is every other pathetic excuse for a demon wasting space in this house. So, oh wise one, what do you propose we do?" He didn't even give Angelus time to answer, continuing his angered rant, his voice filled with grim humor.

"It's not like we can send one of those convenient human servants out to stop her; because the mighty Angelus doesn't want to bother with keeping humans around. Pretentious bastard. If you removed that snotty, self-righteous stick from your arse we wouldn't have this problem!"

"You insolent little prig," sneered Angelus, looking down disdainfully at his childe. "Don't you question me. You're nothing more than a smug little fledge. I am your master, boy, so consider your words carefully from now on."

"Shhh, leave him alone love." Dru advised her lovely sire as she rubbed circles on his stomach, caressing him through the thin fabric of his shirt. "He doesn't mean it."

"Bullshit," growled Spike, glaring menacingly at the insane woman. "I meant every bloody word. It's not my fault if the Angelic one over there can't handle the truth," he added with a taunting smirk.

"You messed up, Spikey," replied Angelus with a disgusted glance at the blonde. "You let her escape, don't blame me for your.shortcomings."

"Me? You're just as responsible you git. Whose bloody house is this? Whose boys guard the doors? Yours, you nonce. Seems like your security is seriously lacking there, sire."

Drusilla frowned when she felt her sire tense under her hands, knowing it was taking every ounce of control he could muster to resist the urge to slam his fist into the blonde's face.

"This is wrong." she murmured in that soft, faraway voice only she could perfect. "So wrong.my boys are fighting. You shouldn't be fighting. All her fault, Spike's naughty girl. Bad Willow."

"Don't you speak her name!" Spike shouted in a deafening roar that shook the very foundation of the old home. "You don't have the right to speak her name." The lithe brunette whimpered at his reprimand and shrunk further behind Angelus.

"Watch your tone," warned the eldest with a glowering stare. Spike ran a hand through his tousled hair, utterly frustrated and honestly terrified at the prospect of losing her forever. Angelus saw the fight slowly drain out of him and nodded to himself.

"Princess," he cooed, turning to Dru with an affectionate smile. "Why don't you climb back in bed. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay," she smiled brightly, pecking him quickly on the lips. "You won't be long?" she pouted playfully.

"Nah, sweets," he confirmed. "Just gotta talk business with some of the boys, then I'll join you. Go back to sleep."

"But I'm not sleepy anymore, Angel." she whispered, leaning in closer to him and nipping at his earlobe.

"Oh don't worry baby, I'll tire you out," he promised with a lascivious grin. She purred happily and flounced out of the entry way, closing their bedroom door noisily behind her. Spike, Angelus, and a handful of minions, including Angelus' major domo Frederick, were left remaining.

"As soon as the sun sets, I want the two of you," Angelus declared, looking to the youngest of the group, "in a carriage and on your way to Peckham. She wouldn't be daft enough to go back to her little friends, but she might let them know her whereabouts.eventually. You will keep watch on the Harris house and report back to me each week. Your stay is indefinite, so pack for a long trip. The second you know something, I want to be informed. Understand?" They nodded their agreement and were excused.

"Frederick, I want you scouring the city for any leads, find out if anyone saw her leave and if anyone was with her. She had to obtain a driver, I want to know who he is."

"Yes, Master," he agreed with a bow of his head before retreating down the hall. The entry was now empty, with exception of sire and childe, who were staring, considering the other.

"It's the best I can do," said Angelus after a moment's silence. "She will be found, no doubt about that, but it will take time."

"Why are you helping me?" Spike couldn't help but wonder. He had just told the bastard off and now Angelus was taking his side, doing him favors.

"Because, you are my childe, which affords you some leeway," he told him before his depthless eyes turned cold and unforgiving. "But even think about speaking that way to me again and I'll make you wish you never crawled out of your mum's womb. They'll be finding pieces of you for weeks."

".Thank you." he muttered unhappily, looking away from the brunette, hating that he owed his gratitude to his sire. He heard a chuckle and rolled his eyes.

"That must have hurt," Angelus groaned in mock sympathy, ambling toward Spike, clapping him on the back, his hand tightening around the back of his neck. The blonde continued to look away, his blue eyes focused on Angelus' feet. He may be a childe, but he was still a fledgling and he hated moments like this when he was reminded he was property of someone else.

"My proud boy." Angelus sighed as he looked down on the blonde mop of hair. He squeezed his neck, causing Spike to look up into those brown eyes. "I like you this way.so submissive," he teased, knowing Spike hated being reminded he was not in control. With one final squeeze he stepped back, releasing his grip on the blonde.

"We'll find her.again," he remembered with a roll of his eyes. "And once we do, we can discuss your punishment for tonight. Now," he said with an eager clap of his hands. "I've got a girl to be getting to, get some sleep."

Spike watched his sire walk away, feeling uncomfortable and fidgety in his own skin. Angelus was going to bed with Dru, he was just going to bed. The manor was filled with his kind, and yet the blonde had never felt more alone. He may love Willow, but right at that moment, he hated her for leaving him alone.

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