~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 21~
Will noticed her uneasiness as she stared at the bed. He came up behind her, placing his cool hands on her shoulders and bending to nuzzle the skin behind her ear. She started, hands jerking a bit in surprise, but displayed no other reaction. Slowly he turned her to face him, placing his hand under her chin and lifting her face to his. He placed the gentlest of kisses on her soft lips then trailed his lips along the line of her jaw, nipping and teasing the flesh along the way.
Needing to see more of her, he quickly unbuttoned her shirt, letting the sides fall away so that he could feast his eyes on her breasts. The bra was a further hindrance so it was the next to go. He eyed her body appreciatively. Her bulky clothes always hid so much from view. Underneath them she was such a beautiful woman, he thought.
Still she made no movement, no response to his actions or caresses. "What's the matter, little one? Cat got your tongue," he asked teasingly.
She looked him uneasily in the eye and using her calmest voice, she finally spoke to him: "You can do whatever you want to me. I agreed to that and I mean to stick to my promise. But I never said I'd enjoy it. "
"Anything I want, hmmm," he murmured, pushing her unresisting body down onto the bed. "So, if I were to want to kiss you like this, you wouldn't protest?" He bent his head down and kissed her lips softly, nibbling gently on her lower lip. Willow sighed quietly, but other than that, she made no response.
"And if I were to do this," he said, running his tongue down her neck, stopping just short of the space between her breasts, "you wouldn't enjoy that either?"
Again Willow was silent, no motion or expressions giving away her inner turmoil.
"And this, this would be truly unpleasant as well, I take it," he asked with a smile, as he bent his head down and captured one of her breasts with his mouth. Slowly, deliberately, he let his tongue play along the edges of her areole, then pulled his lips back and kissed just the tip of her breast. Her mind might not be enjoying this, he thought, but her body was having a heck of a time. Her nipples were standing at attention, a testament to his attentions. His tongue wandered over to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.
He looked up again at Willow's face. Her eyes were closed, her breath coming now in shallow pants. Hair splayed out around her head, framing her still, flushed face. Her hands grabbed and released the comforter underneath her. As much as she tried to deny it, she was not immune to his attentions. Try as she might, she could not stop her body from responding to him. The thought brought a smile to his lips.
He continued kissing his way down her body, her fevered skin warming his lips and her salty goodness flavoring each kiss. He unbuttoned her pants then pulled off her underwear, obstacles to his ultimate goal. As he reached her tender curls, his hand brushed her lower lips, and she jerked back away from him. He looked up at her face, but she again she had her eyes closed and her indifferent expression seemed to mock him.
She was ignoring him, he realized. She was obeying the letter of their agreement, and just that, no more. No matter what he tried, he would get no willing response out of her. The thought drove him crazy. Fine, he decided angrily. If that was the way she wanted to play the game, then he was more than up to the challenge.
He pulled himself back up, leaving the warmth of her body just long enough divest himself of his clothing. Then he was back on the bed, moving to position his cock outside her entrance. Without a word of warning he thrust into her, battering his way up her passage until he was embedded as deeply as he could go. He held himself in her, waiting for her reaction. Her eyes flickered open, swimming with pain and tears, and they met his angry ones.
"I will *not* be ignored," he told her, grounding out the words.
She was scared now; he could see it in her eyes. Good, he thought. She'd better get used to it.
Then he set his pace, slamming into her over and over again. Tears flowed rapidly from her eyes now, as she reached her hands over her head, putting them against the headboard in an effort to minimize her movement. Each time he smashed into her, he seemed to go just a little deeper, her channel clenching just a little tighter around him.
As he continued to thrust, he took her mouth in a bruising kiss, attempting to force her lips open in order to deepen the invasion. She refused, keeping her lips as tight as she could, not willing to give him anything more. Finally, frustrated beyond belief by her actions, her attitude, he grabbed her right nipple, twisting it brutally. As she screamed, his mouth crashed back down onto hers, his tongue forcing its way inside. His tongue attacked her mouth, plundering and exploring, tasting everything it could. Her breath had a sweet, pure taste, better than any fine wine.
Finally, all too soon, he felt the end approach. One last brutal shove and he shot his seed deep inside her. As he pulled out of her, she turned on her side, away from him, so that he wouldn't see the bitter tears she cried.
A part of him wanted to hold her, comfort her. But it was the weaker side of him, and the stronger side, the demon, won out. Instead, he pulled her to him, her back against his chest.
"Mine," he growled softly, turning her to face him and looking into her eyes. Her expression impassive, tears making tracks down her cheeks, she merely returned his gaze.
"Say it," he commanded. She needed to understand and believe it.
"Yours." She answered, the words barely a whisper. "For now," she added, as he released her face and pulled her to him again.
"Now is all that matters," he said quietly as he drifted off to sleep.
~Part: 22~
The quiet stillness of morning had now given way to the movements of the early afternoon. He could hear the muted voices of children playing in the neighborhood, their shrieks and calls ringing faintly in his ears.
He watched her sleep; her breathing was even and regular, like the beating of her heart. Fiery red hair fell like a curtain across her face, hiding it from his view. He pushed it gently back behind her ear, tucking it there so that he could gaze upon her.
His brain ran quietly in circles, trying to figure out what he was feeling. Why did part of him feel the need to apologize to her? To beg her forgiveness for his actions last night? But other parts of him longed to shake her, make her see how right last night was, and make her admit it as well. And then there was the part of him that didn't want to think at all, just wanted to do it all over again, and again, and again…
Why did she have to be so goddamn stubborn, he thought in frustration. Didn't she realize that this could be good for both of them? That he could teach her so much? Maybe it was just too early for her. Perhaps he should have given her more time to adjust to her situation. She was really just a girl, so very young, despite the fact that she had lived through so much.
She made a fluttering movement with her hands, bringing his attention back to her small body. He gazed again at her face, trying to discern the quality of her dreams from her expressions. He suspected that whatever she was experiencing wasn't to her liking, and when she jolted awake, his thoughts were confirmed.
"Good morning," he whispered softly into her ear, pulling her back against him. "Did you sleep well?"
She was still for a moment, taking in her surroundings. The sounds of children playing in the street reminded her of happier times, when things were less complicated. Times when the most important choice one had to make was which game to play after school.
Finally she sighed, and then stretched, her body tensing and relaxing. At last she answered, continuing to stare blankly towards the window. "I slept fine, I guess. I'm not a morning person, you know? Then again, I'm guessing that morning is long gone. What time is it?"
"A little after noon. I thought about waking you earlier, but you just looked so sweet that I decided to let you be."
"Noon already? Crap!" She sighed softly, then continued, "I'd better get up. I've got a class at one, but I still need to take a shower and I guess I'd better grab some lunch."
"Class," he asked, anger flickering beneath the surface of his thoughts.
"Yes, class," she confirmed, not seeming to notice the irritation in his voice. "European Literature first, then Art History. I should be home by 5, I think. I've transferred all my classes to late afternoon. Figured I'd probably need my mornings for sleep," she admitted.
"I don't want you going to school," he told her, his voice brooking no argument.
She sat up suddenly, turning to face him, her expression set into cold lines of determination. "I don't care what you want. I'm still going to school. I may be giving up a year of my life for you, but I am *not* going to give up my education. You will just have to deal with it," she told him, her voice getting louder and harsher with each word. Her hands balled into fists, although her arms stayed at her sides.
He stared at her with those cool blue eyes for a moment, but saw that she would not back down from this fight. "Fine, you can go. But you'd better come straight home afterwards, no dawdling. I have plans for this evening."
Willow felt a rush of relief at his acquiescence. She would have pushed it if she had to; she was not going to give in on this, but she was glad that it had not come to that. However, the talk of "plans" for the evening made her more than a little uneasy. If it was anything like last night…well, she didn't know how much of that she could take.
She shook her head quickly, trying to dispel the images that flashed through her mind. The feel of his body moving with hers, the look on his face as he fucked her. No, such thoughts would definitely not help her now. Movement, actions and routine were what would keep her mind off her problems. She got up and practically ran into the bathroom, embarrassed by her nudity. His laughter floated through the air even after she closed the door.
Once safely locked inside, she performed her morning routine, hoping that the familiar rituals would calm her troubled mind. A quick shower made her feel so much better.
Finally, wrapped in a towel, she made her way into the bedroom, grabbing her clothes as she went. Will had disappeared, although she could hear his faint movements as he busied himself in the kitchen. Thankful that she had the room to herself, she quickly changed into her clothes and collected her purse and her books.
She stuck her head out the bedroom door, making sure the coast was clear, then scurried down the stairs, yelling out a hurried, "I'll be back by 5," as she rushed out of the house.
~Part: 23~
The afternoon passed in a haze for Willow. Her private thoughts occupied most of her attention, schoolwork coming in a distant second. Maybe third.
She saw Buffy across campus between classes. She waved, trying to catch her eye. The slayer looked right at her and what was in her eyes froze Willow to the spot. She knew that the change in their relationship was going to have consequences, but she had hoped that Buffy wouldn't freeze her out of her life completely. Obviously that was what was going to happen though.
She sighed sadly. Right now she really could have used someone to talk to. Her mind was jumbled, unsure what to think about the events of the previous evening. It hadn't been rape, not exactly, but they certainly hadn't made love either.
All of Willow's previous experiences with sex had been rather gentle, tentative acts. William had treated her like a china doll he was afraid of breaking. Her few other partners had behaved similarly.
Will, on the other hand, had treated her like a toy, only there for his pleasure. Well, no, she thought, that wasn't completely true. In the beginning he had been sweet, seductive, gentle. It was only after he had realized that she was not going to participate in the act that he'd turned nasty, using his body to punish her for her refusal.
It was going to be a long year if this was the pattern they were going to follow. Her refusing to let him give her pleasure, him taking out all his frustration on her. Still, she wasn't sure if she could just give in. What *would* happen if she just let go and enjoyed the feelings that he caused her to feel? She tried so hard to be in command of herself and her emotions. The thought of being truly out of control, under someone else's power, was frightening.
But what truly terrified her was the thought that she might like it. Might like giving up responsibility for her actions and reactions. What sort of a person would that make her? And after that year was finished and she and Will were through, what would happen to her then? Would she be able to find that strength and control again? Or would she become the kind of woman who let herself be controlled and defined by whichever man she was with at the time?
Her feet took her to the Magic Box, hoping to talk with either Giles or Anya. Hoping that there was someone left in her life that would still be her friend. She had cut her second class, remembering Will's warning to be home by 5.
As she walked into the familiar shop her mind flew back to happier days spent researching, talking, joking, or just being together with her friends. Her thoughts grew sad again. She hoped that when all this was over she could have those things back again.
"Hi Anya," she called to the girl behind the counter. The shop seemed to be otherwise empty.
"Willow! You're still alive!" Anya greeted her gleefully, using her tried and true ability to make the most inappropriate choice of words for any situation.
"Yep, I'm still life-having and everything. Disappointed?" she asked with a grin.
"Nope, although there are some," Anya whispered with a grimace," who will be rather surprised. Oh, happily so, don't get me wrong."
"Who?"
"Let's just say that Xander was pretty sure he'd never see you during daylight hours again," Anya said, confirming Willow's suspicions.
"God, Anya, it's not like that."
"I know. I mean he wants the sex, right? And if you're dead, well, it's different. Actually, if you're dead, well then it's just *ick*. But if you're undead, then it's different. If he wanted to fuck a demon, he'd have just gone out and made a childe or found another vampire. But he wanted you, which means he wants you the way you are, right?"
"I don't know anymore," Willow confessed. "Can-can we talk? I really need to talk to someone."
Anya took a quick look around, taking in the lack of customers in the store. She led Willow to a table and they both sat.
"So what do you want to talk about," Anya asked, uncharacteristically hesitant at the thought of a serious conversation. She knew that her friend was hurt, unsure, and needing guidance. The ex-demoness didn't have many friends. She wanted to keep this one.
"I'm just so confused," Willow confessed. "God, I feel like I've been saying that phrase ever since he came into my life. What the hell is wrong with me?"
Anya looked at her friend sadly. She knew exactly what was *wrong* with her friend. She's falling for him, Anya thought to herself. But do I tell her? Is she ready to accept it yet? Probably not.
"What are you confused about?"
"Him. Me. Oh, everything," she wailed, putting her head on the table in defeat. Pulling her head back up, she continued, "I mean, he can be so kind. He got us this house with this huge library. And do you know what he says? He tells me he got it because he knew I'd like it. And I think to myself that maybe he isn't that bad after all. Then he goes and does something else, something bad, and I-I can't figure him out."
"Bad? He hasn't-hurt you?"
"No, no, he hasn't-he didn't do anything like that."
Willow's eyes darted from wall to wall, trying to decide what to say about last night, if anything. No, she decided, she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. Not all of it, anyway. Talking to Anya had helped though. Just knowing somebody still cared about her made her feel better, less alone.
"I'm sorry, Anya. I've got to go. I promised Will I'd be back by 5. But I want to keep you in my life. Can we…we're still friends, aren't we? Buffy, well, she's pretty mad at me. And I'd understand if you didn't-"
"Shut up, Willow," Anya told her, a smile on her face. "Buffy's not the boss of me," she said, mock indignation flickering in her eyes. "Of course you're still my friend. In fact, what about coffee?"
"Coffee?"
"Yeah, coffee. You know, it's hot and brown and kind of liquid-y? So how about every week we have a standing date for coffee. I mean, we can get together other times too, but even if we're busy and don't have time, we always need coffee, right?"
It was a babbling worthy of Willow and it made her smile, really smile, for the first time that day. "Coffee, every Tuesday at 3. Good for you?"
"Yes," Anya gave her friend an impulsive hug, then pushed her towards the door. "Now get out of here, you're scaring all the customers away."
"Thanks, Anya."
"Out, out. I mean it. Another hour like this and I might as well just close up and go home!"
"I'm going, I'm going," Willow said, laughing softly as she made her way out the door.
~Part: 24~
Five o'clock on the dot, Willow thought as she walked through the door and into the house. She looked around warily for some sign of Will. She found him in the study, reclining on one of the couches, a book in his hands. Science fiction, she saw. Not what she would have expected. Then again, he always did manage to surprise her.
As he sensed her appearance in the doorway he sat up, looking towards her. "You came back," he said, slightly surprised.
"Of course I did. I promised I'd be back by 5, so here I am." He thought I had left for good, she realized. After last night, he thought I'd turn tail and run, regardless of any promises I made. The fact that he had misjudged her so severely annoyed Willow.
"I keep my promises, whether it's easy or not," she told him.
Will looked at her thoughtfully, then got up and walked towards the doorway, brushing past her as he headed out into the hallway.
He looked back at her and told her, "We're going out. Grab something casual and meet me at the door in five minutes."
Willow headed to the bedroom and quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a forest green blouse. She wasn't sure what he was up to, but she'd play along for now. The redhead gave herself a little mental pep talk all the while. Her main goal this evening was to stay calm and relaxed. If she did that, maybe things would go better tonight.
Taking one last look in the mirror, she left the bedroom and made her way down the stairs. Will was waiting for her at the bottom, dressed in black jeans and a blood red silk shirt. He smiled approvingly as he watched her walk down the stairs, taking her arm as he led her to the car. Once they were seated, he turned to her and she noticed a piece of black silk in his hands.
"I've got a surprise for you," he told her, letting the silk run through his fingers.
She looked at him with trepidation. Relax, she told herself. Remember, stay calm. She slowed her breathing and relaxed in her seat. Questions filled her eyes as they met his, but his face was devoid of emotion. Finally she turned her back to him, allowing him to place the silk gently in front of her eyes, the softness caressing her skin. She felt his hands tying it in back, lingering just a little longer than necessary on her soft hair.
"Good girl," he murmured approvingly, running his hand comfortingly along her back as if she were some sort of animal he was trying to calm.
Willow turned to face forward, eyes seeing nothing. She worked again at relaxing herself, telling herself that this was nothing but a game. He wouldn't hurt her. He had no reason to, as long as she did as he asked. There was a certain amount of comfort in that thought.
Will started the car and moved out into traffic. After a couple of turns Willow quickly lost track of where they were going. They were on the open highway, she was pretty sure, since they were traveling at a fairly rapid, even pace. Their final destination, however, was still a mystery. The silence between them stretched endlessly. Willow thought about attempting small talk but decided that it would be rather absurd to ask him how his day went.
Eventually, after what seemed like 15 or 20 minutes, the car slowed, and then stopped. Willow, lost in her thoughts, hadn't even noticed.
"We're here, pet," she heard his soft voice in her ear and started in surprise. "Stay here for a minute and I'll let you out when I'm ready, okay?"
"Okay," she replied. Calm, calm, calm, became her mantra. She heard him open his door, then close it. There were faint noises outside; she heard him remove things from the trunk of the car and arrange them on the ground. Finally, when she was almost convinced that he had left her there for the evening, she heard her door open. Gentle hands helped her make her way out of the car and led her to the edge of a blanket. She could hear the crashing of waves in the distance and the sounds of nature nearer by. When she was seated on a blanket, he joined her and untied the blindfold.
She opened her eyes and looked around. It was beautiful. They sat atop a high bluff overlooking the ocean, the lights of the city twinkling off in the distance. The sound of the waves booming against the rocks was calming, relaxing, invigorating. Willow turned to look at Will and smiled.
"This is a wonderful surprise," she told him, her eyes sparkling and her face bright with joy. "I've always loved the sound of the ocean. It's just so…calm. So inevitable. No matter what happens, how things change, it'll always be there, day after day, year after year. Does that make sense?"
"Sure does, luv. It means that no matter how much life changes, or how much you change, there's something that will always remain a constant."
"That's it exactly," she said, excited that he understood what she was trying to say.
Will put a plate in front of her and Willow realized that this was a picnic. He had brought sandwiches, fruit, nibbling food and a bottle of wine. As he put her plate in front of her with a small flourish, she eagerly began to eat. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was.
"So how was school today," he asked.
Funny, the question that she thought sounded silly earlier sounded just fine coming from his lips, she realized. A little sliver of pain flashed across her face as she remembered her encounter with Buffy.
The movement was not lost to Will's eyes. Something had happened today that made her unhappy. "What happened, Red? Someone hurt you?"
"I don't want to talk about it," she answered, her tone subdued.
"Your prerogative," he acknowledged.
"So how was *your* day," she asked, turning the tables on him.
"Dull, dull, dull. You sure I couldn't persuade you to take a year off from school," he asked hopefully. "We could do things then, go places. I know you'd miss your friends-"
"What friends?" The bitter words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. She turned away from him, wishing she could take them back. She hadn't wanted to get into this with him. Not that she thought he really gave a damn. As far as he was concerned, the Scoobies were just an annoyance. But to her, they were everything…her friends, her confidantes, her social life, just-everything.
She turned away from him, not wanting him to see the tears building in her eyes. Not wanting to see the smirk on his face, or the pity in his eyes.
He reached out and touched her shoulder, an unexpectedly comforting gesture. "Things were rough today?"
"Yeah," she said softly, surprised at his response. "Buffy just looked at me like I was a stranger. No, not a stranger, an enemy."
Will didn't say anything for a moment. Then he sighed. "I guess I might have expected that from the moron or the slut, but I thought the others had a little more substance to them."
"Anya's still talking to me," she admitted. "I haven't seen Giles yet. But he's made no effort to get in touch with me. I'm sure Buffy doesn't want him to see me."
"I'm sorry, luv."
Willow glanced at him, "Somehow I doubt that."
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," he told her angrily. "The point of this wasn't to make you unhappy."
"And just what *was* the point of this? To hurt Buffy? To get back at me for what happened before? I swear I just don't understand you at all!"
He laughed harshly. "You think I'm so difficult to figure out? Try looking at yourself, luv. I swear, I haven't a clue as to what you're thinking or feeling most of the time. Hell, sometimes I don't think *you* know either!"
~Part: 25~
"What the hell is that supposed to mean," she asked, confused by his statement.
He looked at her coolly then told her, "It seems to me like you don't know what you want sometimes. Most of the time, really."
"Give me an example," she demanded.
"Willow's inconsistencies," he teased, lying down on his back and staring up at the stars. "Might as well be comfortable, this might take a while."
"Shut up," she muttered, laying down next to him and staring up at the same stars.
"Okay, example number one," he started, determined not to let it go. "You kill demons and vampires with regularity. Yet you're one of the most softhearted people I know. I bet you couldn't even kill a spider if you found one in your room."
"So? What's wrong with that?"
"It's just inconsistent, that's all. Not wrong or right, it just is."
"You'll have to do better than to convince me that I'm inconsistent," she told him.
"Okay, then let's talk about last night." The minute he said the words he wished he could take them back. He could feel the increased tension in her body. The conversation had gone from gentle teasing to deadly serious in the space of mere seconds.
"What about it," she said, her body taut with apprehension.
"Willow," he told her softly, "You're a beautiful, passionate woman. I know that. I remember it from before and I've seen evidence of it now. But you refuse to let that side of you out. It's as if you're scared of losing control because you're afraid of what might happen."
The silence stretched on for what seemed like an hour to Will. He continued to look up at the stars; he'd said what he meant to, now it was up to her to make the next move.
Willow lay there quietly, collecting her thoughts. She wanted to say things the right way so she searched carefully for the words.
"I *am* afraid, sometimes," the redhead started softly. She continued looking straight up, unable to meet his eyes. Willow knew that if she did, she would be lost completely. "What if I let go and something bad happens?"
"Something bad like what," he asked, frowning.
"What if I start to feel something? Something for you," she answered, her words the quietest whisper.
The words hit him like the proverbial ton of bricks. He had imagined a dozen different reasons for her behavior, but this had never been one of them.
"This-us-it's just for a year," she continued. "So I fall for you, the year ends, you're gone, and I turn into some depressed, weeping little child again. I did that before when I lost you," she confessed. "I can't go through it again."
"You did?"
Willow snuck a look at his face, wondering what he was thinking. Was he annoyed, disgusted, saddened? As usual, his voice and face gave nothing away. He'd be a great poker player, she thought idly.
"My parents were so worried about me that they actually spent some time with me. It was weird. Did I tell you? They took me to London. If they had had any idea that I'd been there before, and under what circumstances…"
He smiled at that, wondering how her parents would have dealt with the fact that not only had she been there before, but over a hundred years in the past. "They would have put you in a padded room," he finished the sentence for her.
"In one of those funny jackets with the arms that go around your back," she added, giggling softly. "I wonder if they have those jackets in any other colors? White makes my skin look so washed out sometimes," she added absentmindedly.
Will resisted the urge to stare at her in amazement; the loops and turns her mind made always fascinated him. After her confessions tonight, he felt that he understood her a little better. She was just scared. And fear was one emotion he could definitely comprehend. Sure, he thought to himself, he was usually the one causing the fear, but he still had a pretty good understanding of it.
Her mind must have continued with its twists and turns because the next words out of her mouth were a complete surprise to him, as usual. "Are you mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad?"
"Because of before. Because you got turned while you were looking for me. It was my fault."
He turned to face her then, lying on his side and looking into her eyes. "What happened wasn't your fault, not really. I mean, yes, you played a part in the story, I suppose, but chance played the biggest role in the drama. Fate, chance, karma, whatever you believe in. It happened because it was meant to, that's all. So no, I don't blame you."
He thought a bit before continuing: "I was angry at you when I first saw you here. I guess I did blame you just a little bit, in the beginning. I thought that you had deliberately set me up. Once I thought about it, though, I realized that you were just as much fate's pawn as I was."
He rolled onto his back again and looked up at the stars once more, his mind on things that had happened over a hundred years ago. Her next questions brought him back to the present again.
"Do you hate it, being a vampire? Do you ever get bored? Lonely? Do you miss seeing the sun?"
"No, yes, yes, sometimes, and maybe," he answered, a smile on his face.
She thought about his answers for a minute, trying to remember the order in which she asked the questions. "Wait, you gave too many answers. What's the 'maybe' for?"
He sat up and smirked at her, then began packing up the remains of their picnic. "I'll never tell," he answered, leaving her to ponder the question on her own.
She was quiet all the way home, processing the events of the evening,
reviewing them in her mind. Which Will was the real Will? The
one from last night, or the man who took her out for a picnic tonight?
Or was he really a combination of the two? Well, she had a whole
year to find out, she supposed. Might as well take it slowly.
Willow suppressed a yawn as she entered the house. It was late again. For a human, at least. For a vampire it was probably early evening, she supposed. She climbed the stairs to the bedroom and headed off to change.
"Go to bed, Red, you can barely keep your eyes open," he told her. "I'm going to find a good book, I'll be in a little later."
She looked at him in surprise, but did as he requested before he could change his mind. In mere minutes she was in bed and sleeping soundly.
When Will came in later that was how he found her, lying peacefully on her back, hair splayed out on the pillow like red flames. He soon joined her, smiling to himself as she reached towards him in her sleep, her cheek coming to rest on his stomach, her hands on his chest.
~Part: 26~
Willow woke up much more comfortably this morning, a strong arm over her shoulders and her head cushioned on a fleshy alabaster pillow. Her first reaction was a blush that covered her face completely. Apparently she had taken liberties in the night, her body draping itself along his in order to gain comfort. She silently moved her head upward, trying to see if he was awake.
His eyes were closed and his breathing was…well, non-existent. He *looked* like he was asleep, but who the heck knew, she wondered. She tried to slowly slide her body out from under his arm, but the arm tightened and pulled her back to him. She looked up again into laughing blue eyes.
"Good morning Red," he greeted her, kissing her softly on her forehead. It was the gentlest of touches, and it served to relax her just a bit.
"Morning," she answered back shyly, looking down and hiding her eyes again. "Gotta go take a shower," she mumbled.
He relaxed his arm and allowed her to make her way to the bathroom. "Would you like some coffee before you leave," he asked, already putting on his robe and making his way towards the door.
"Thanks, that'd be great."
Willow finished her morning routine, which was now quickly becoming her afternoon routine. She hurried down the stairs and breezed into the kitchen feeling clean and strangely relaxed.
Will was sitting at the table, seeming to be deeply engrossed in the sports page of the newspaper. He motioned across the table to her coffee and she sat to drink in a companionable silence. This scene was played out every morning in homes around the world, but for Willow it was a first. The newness and the intimacy of it thrilled and frightened her.
"Got plans for tonight, so be home by 5 or 6," he told her, his eyes meeting hers over the top of the newspaper.
"Okay," she said, wondering what he would do to top last night's outing. She hated to have to ask; it seemed so weak. But she really was curious. Well, only one way to find out, she thought.
"What are we going to do? I mean, so I know how to dress," she added. Yep, Willow, that's the way to make it seem like you don't care, she thought to herself. Jeez, like he wouldn't see right through that ploy.
His lips curved into a smirk behind the paper, knowing that her curiosity had forced her to ask the question. Her curiosity was so very strong, a light that sat in her eyes and sparkled when she thought. "You'll find out at 6 o'clock tonight," he told her playfully, knowing that her eager mind would create scenario after scenario before discarding them all. And where he was taking her tonight was somewhere she'd *never* guess on her own. "Dress casual, maybe a sweater," he added teasingly, giving her a tidbit of information. Like it would do her any good, he thought.
He smiled to himself as he heard the front door shut behind her. There was something relaxing in their casual banter. It filled a place in his life that had been empty for a very long time. When he spent time with her he felt things, feelings that he hadn't experienced since he became a vampire. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, he wasn't quite sure. If he didn't know any better, he might think that he was falling for her. But that was impossible. Vampires couldn't love, could they? Passion, lust, obsession, yes, he'd felt those all before. But love?
And if it was love, what did he want to do about it? Love was a weakness for a vampire, and it could turn into a fatal weakness at that. The smartest thing he could do was kill her and move on. Sure, he had promised not to harm her, but nobody could deny the fact that he was an evil demon. Breaking promises was just par for the course.
His other option? As unlikely as it seemed, could she return his feelings? Maybe not now, but in time? He knew he was charming. Seducing women was something he did often and well. He'd had many decades to perfect his technique. But now, when it really mattered, could he do it? Did he want to?
Love her or kill her…the question ran endlessly through his mind as
he sat and finished his coffee.
School had been as interesting as always, but keeping her mind on her studies was becoming more and more difficult. Thoughts swirled around her mind like paper in a windstorm. Who was Will? Why was he behaving the way he was? Two nights ago he'd done things to her that made her feel cold and alone. Last night he had been the opposite: the perfect gentleman. Charming, attentive, almost sweet. To say that she was confused was like saying that the Niagra Falls was a little wet.
Could he be starting to care for her? Was that the reason for his sudden turn-about last night? Was last night his way of apologizing for his actions the previous night? Or was this just some sort of twisted game he was playing? Did he think that his victory would be so much sweeter if she came to him of her own free will?
And just how did she feel about him? She acknowledged the fact that her heartbeat quickened every time she thought of him. She couldn't deny that. But was it caused by lust or fear or some other emotion entirely?
And what about love? She couldn't love him. He was a demon. Sure, he was handsome, sexy, fun to be with, sometimes at least. But love? And it had to be love, she refused to settle for anything less. She would do what she had to for the next year, of course, but ultimately she would not be with a man unless she loved him. So what did that mean for them?
~Part: 27~
"I'm hoooome," Willow called as she walked in the door. She giggled slightly, thinking how odd it was to hear the words in this context. Yet oddly enough, this house felt much more like home than her parents' house ever did. That house had always felt like a stopping place, a rest area, somewhere her parents had to pass through on their way to their ultimate destination. She sighed softly, the sound echoing quietly in the foyer. What would her parents have thought of this arrangement? To say that they would have been disturbed was putting it lightly. She hadn't heard from them in over a week. Last she knew, they were in Russia for a few months, her father a guest teacher at one of the colleges there.
Not receiving a reply to her greeting, she frowned slightly. It was 5:30 and it was already dark outside. Vampires must love this time of the year, she thought, what with the fact that it got dark so early and all. She supposed that Will was out-out doing whatever it was that vampires did in the evening. Her mind shied away from the word 'feeding.' She tried not to think about it. Yes, I'm a coward, she thought to herself. It wasn't like she didn't know what he was doing. And she knew that her bringing it up wouldn't do anything but make him angry. So she stayed quiet, hoping that he'd keep his promise not to hurt anyone she cared about. 'Like Buffy,' her mind reminded her. Buffy, her once-friend but no-longer friend.
Well I might as well get changed, she thought, starting up the stairs.
By the time she heard Will slip in the front door it was 6pm, and she was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a light, form-fitting turquoise sweater. She had applied a small amount of make-up, just enough to emphasize her green eyes and long ginger lashes.
As she headed back down the stairs, she noticed Will look her over appraisingly. Just what does he see when he looks at me, she wondered. "I'm ready to go when you are," she told him, a nervous smile on her face.
He held the front door open for her, allowing her to slide through it and then locking it quickly, before following her to the car. As soon as Willow was safely belted in and ready to go, Will again held out the black silk blindfold, running the soft fabric through his hands. Willow cringed slightly at the thought of wearing the blindfold again. It made her feel so…so dominated, so controlled.
"Do I have to?" she practically whined.
"No, you don't *have* to. You can let me do this, or we can sit in the car all night. Doesn't matter to me either way, it's up to you."
"But why? Why do you want me to wear this? Is it a power thing? Do you get off on being in control? Because if that's the case, it's really just an illusion. I could take the blindfold off any time I wanted to, you know."
"Maybe I just like the look of surprise in your eyes when you finally open them and see where you are," he teased her, leaning close to whisper the words to her.
She looked up into his eyes and saw several emotions flitting quickly across his face before the usual expressionless mask was firmly in place. Finally she sighed softly and turned away from him, allowing him to tie the blindfold behind her head.
"Cheer up, pet. You'll enjoy this. At least I *think* you will."
"I-well, I had fun last night," she confessed hesitantly.
"So did I," he answered softly.
With that, he started the car and headed down the street. Unlike their last trip, this time they were heading into town. Willow noticed that they stopped at several lights and didn't go terribly fast in between them. "How much longer," she asked, slightly impatient.
She reminded him of a child on Christmas morning waiting to open her presents. He looked over and smiled at her. Then he realized that she couldn't see the smile, and laughed softly, both at her and himself. "We're almost there Red. Surely you can sit still for just a moment longer, hmmm?"
His easy banter made him seem more casual, less frightening, so she turned towards him and stuck out her tongue, teasing him. His laughter increased, and she turned back to the front, fuming slightly. Bloody annoying vampire, she thought. Then she noticed her use of the word 'bloody' and had to laugh at herself. Jeez, maybe it's true what they say about people who live together picking up each other's traits, she thought. She certainly would never have used that word prior to meeting Will.
The car stopped and Will turned off the ignition before turning to her and asking, "Ready, luv?"
"I guess so," she told him, still unsure of what to expect. She turned away from him and allowed him to remove the blindfold.
When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a gigantic clown head. Was this some juvenile attraction, or a childhood nightmare come to life? On the hellmouth one could never be sure.
Off to her left, Willow saw dozens of children and teenagers running, laughing, playing, chasing. "Miniature golf?" she asked, slightly confused.
"Miniature golf," he agreed. "Ever played before?"
"Not for years and years. I'm probably not very good," she confessed, her nose crinkling in frustration.
"And you hate doing things you're not good at, don't you?"
"Well, yeah, I kind of do."
"Then I'll just have to show you everything I know. I'm quite a good teacher, or so I'm told," he said jokingly, winking at her.
Half of her laughed back at his obvious flirting, while the other half of her wondered darkly what other things he could teach her.
~Part: 28~
"I don't know how anyone is supposed to enjoy this," Willow complained, frustrated. She placed her ball back onto the tee for the sixth time this hole. Every time she hit the ball it went into the water, without fail. She'd tried hitting it hard. She'd tried hitting it softly. She'd even tried aiming the stupid thing. But the result every time had been the same. And the more aggravated she got, the more Will snickered, making her even angrier.
Damn vampire, she fumed. Who would have thought that he'd know how to play miniature golf? Wasn't he supposed to enjoy killing and torture? Where was the torture in this?
"So sorry you're not enjoying yourself, luv," he replied in mock sympathy. "I'm having the time of my life." Will grinned at her, thinking to himself that her anger made her even more beautiful. Her eyes flashed, her nose crinkled. She was just too appealing, and way too much fun to tease. "Just because you're losing by…well, by a lot, there's no reason to get pissy about it. I offered to help you, didn't I?"
"Yeah, out of the goodness of your heart, you did," she muttered under her breath. "One kiss for every putting tip, indeed."
"Hey, gotta get my pro-quid-quo out of it. I'm an evil demon, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, evil demon, blah, blah, blah," she said, looking in his direction and rolling her eyes.
"Don't you forget it, little girl," he replied, his tone suddenly serious and menacing.
A chill ran down her back, reminding her that to underestimate him would be a serious mistake. She looked over at him, slightly uneasy.
Will noticed her discomfort and decided to take pity on her. Walking behind her, he pulled her body to his, wrapping his lean arms around hers and covering her hands on the putter with his own. She jumped, surprised.
"Wh-what are you doing," she asked, too nervous to look back at him.
Leaning into her body, his chin on her shoulder, he whispered in her ear. "Free lesson, luv. After this, it'll cost you."
She gulped, nervous, her body tingling wherever it touched his. She could smell him, the musky scent of him, mixing with the cologne he wore. His skin was cool and smooth. Earth to Willow, her mind called. Concentrate on the game. Mini golf, I mean. That game. The reason you're here.
All around them she could hear the voices of teenagers and families, yet the only thing that seemed real was her flesh pressed against his. Her body softened as his thumb made gentle circles on her wrist. She caught herself starting to moan, but managed to stop before it became audible. She turned her head and looked up at him, pleading silently with her eyes. Pleading for what, she wasn't sure.
"See, you imagine tapping the ball in a straight line; swing the club along that same line, and there you go." His actions suiting his words, together they swung the club in a straight line. To Willow's astonishment, the ball actually went where it was supposed to go. Her eyes lit up, smiling into his, and she wiggled out of his grasp in her excitement.
"Look Will! It did! It went right where I aimed it. And totally water-free!" Her enthusiasm was infectious. Will grinned back at her, eyes shining with laughter.
"Now that wasn't so difficult, was it?"
"Only because you helped me."
"You can do it again, luv. Just remember to imagine that straight line and hit the ball along it," he told her encouragingly. She looked at him, her face uncertain.
They walked to the next hole, the one housing the rather frightening clown-head. "I'm going to do this," she muttered to herself. She placed her ball on the tee and looked over at Will. He nodded approvingly. Visualizing the straight line she wanted to follow, she swung the club. It hit the ball right on, landing it only three inches from the hole. Almost jumping in her excitement, Willow ran to Will and spontaneously threw her arms around his neck, giving him a big, happy hug.
Realizing what she had done, she stepped back, embarrassed. "Sorry," she muttered shyly, afraid to look up at him. But nothing could completely dampen her enthusiasm, and she scampered back to her ball, putting it into the hole quickly and easily.
Hole by hole, she continued to improve. Will still won handily, but by the time they were finished, Willow was doing much better. She even managed a hole-in-one on the course with the castle.
Finally, it was time to go home. They had played all three courses, each one harder than the one before. But Willow had to admit, she was having a blast. Will was fun, she realized. When he wasn't trying to prove what a frightening, badass Master Vampire he was, he was really enjoyable to be around.
As they walked back to the car, he put his arm companionably around her shoulder and looked down into her eyes. "So did you have a good time, luv?"
She looked up at him, noting his serious expression. Relaxing into the arm around her shoulder, she sighed in contentment. "Wonderful time," she replied.
"Good. I can't wait to see what you think about tomorrow night…"
As they entered the house, Willow thanked him again. They climbed the stairs together, and just like last night, she headed left into the bedroom while he headed right towards the library. By the time he made it into bed, she was fast asleep.
~Part: 29~
Willow's life seemed to be developing into a comfortable pattern: school in the afternoon, evenings spent with Will, and then falling asleep alone and waking up in his arms.
Each evening they did something different and interesting. One night he would take her to a museum, the next night they'd attend a concert. Or a play, or a movie. Sometimes they'd eat out at a fancy restaurant, other evenings they'd stay at home and just talk. Will was a great help to Willow with her school work, and she picked his brain constantly, looking for anything he could remember that would help her when writing those long, boring history papers. With his help and his 'first-hand' observances, her papers became a lot less boring, and her grades stayed high. They were developing an uneasy friendship and were starting to enjoy each other's company, as long as they stayed away from certain subjects, of course. All in all, they were comfortable, if not happy.
The young redhead continued to get together with Anya each week as well. The two had become close, each seeing in the other a friend who would not judge, would only be supportive. And although they were no longer as close as they had once been, Willow looked forward to the time she spent with Giles as well. He still felt like a father to her, and although he was obviously concerned about her 'lifestyle', as he called it, he still made her feel loved and cared for.
Willow was saddened to hear that Xander and Anya had broken up and that Xander was now pursuing Buffy. She knew that Xander had always harbored feelings for the Slayer, but had hoped that he had moved past them when he and Anya had become close. Unfortunately, when things had changed between Willow and Buffy, Xander had been there to 'comfort' Buffy and that comforting had moved on to become something more.
Anya said she never blamed Willow, but Willow blamed herself anyway. If she had never made that deal with Will, things would have been so much different. Anya and Xander would still be together, and she would still have her friends. But instead of beating herself up about lost opportunities and bad choices, Willow was forging ahead and making the best of her situation
Little did Willow know that very soon, everything would change…
~Part: 30~
Will looked at her over the top of the book he was reading, amused with her antics. They were in the den, Willow sitting in the chair across from him, pretending to read a book. When he looked at the cover, however, the vampire noticed that the book was actually upside-down. Willow squirmed in her chair, turning her body first to the left, then to the right, then back to the left. Her eyes were focused off to the right and seemed to be concentrating on something that he couldn't see.
"Did someone have a couple too many double-shot lattes for lunch, pet?"
"Um…huh?" She whipped her head towards him, startled. Her eyes were slightly unfocused, as if she really wasn't giving the matter her full attention.
"You've been wriggling over there like a worm on a hook. What's got you so worked up?"
"Just hyper, I guess." With an effort, she settled back into her seat and again attempted to read her book. Glancing at the pages, she realized she had been holding the book upside-down. With a sigh, she righted the book, took one last look at the page in front of her, and then put it down on the small table next to her.
Suddenly rising, she moved to stand in front of Will, grabbing his book unexpectedly and plopping it down on the arm of his chair. "How come we've never gone dancing," she demanded, earning a bemused look from the blond vampire.
"Didn't know you wanted to go, luv."
"Well I do," she replied, stamping one small foot to emphasize the point.
"Milady wants to dance, does she? Fine…next stop Los Angeles. We'll find you a club and you can dance until your feet are bloody stumps."
"Eeewww. So *not* the words I would have chosen. And why do we have to go to Los Angeles? There's a perfectly good club in Sunnydale. You remember the Bronze. The place where you were going to-errr, well, kill me."
"Yes, I remember the place. Dark corners, loud music, lots of underage kids drinking. I also remember that the Slayer hangs out there as well. You sure you want to meet up with the bimbo again?"
"She's not in charge of this town," Willow exclaimed, working herself up into a really good tizzy. "If-if I want to go dancing here, I'm going to go dancing here. I've lived in Sunnydale longer than she has, damn it."
He just stared at her, amazed that so much fire and passion could exist in such a delightful, small package. Finally he laughed, a long, full chuckle.
"You'd better not be laughing at me, vampire," she snapped at him, hands on her hips, looking down at his seated form.
He gave her a smirk, then pushed himself to his feet. The movement caught her off guard, and she had to back away from him or their bodies would have collided.
"Fine, the Bronze it is. Get changed and I'll meet you downstairs in half an hour. Okay?"
"Goodie!" She jumped around in delight before running out of the
study and into the bedroom to change.
They entered the Bronze together, his arm draped casually around her shoulder. Her eyes went from table to table, face to face, looking for someone familiar. Satisfied that Buffy and Xander weren't in attendance, she relaxed and smiled, pointing out an open table to Will. They sat down and settled in, Will leaving to order them a couple of drinks.
"Um…hey Willow," she heard a hesitant voice from behind her. She turned to see Xander approaching, his arm around Buffy. He looked happy, she thought, although a little uncomfortable. Buffy looked uncomfortable too, and refused to meet her eyes. Willow thought she knew the source of Buffy's discomfort. The blonde knew that she had had feelings for Xander that went beyond those of simple friendship. She probably figured Willow was pretty angry with her right now. Strangely enough, Willow was happy for the two of them. She knew now that what she had felt for Xander was merely a crush. Sure, it had felt like true love at the time, but now she knew that the two of them were destined for nothing more than friendship. Maybe not even that.
"So," Xander started hopefully, "you here alone?"
"No, Will is here too. He's getting us some drinks. I'd invite you to join us, but-"
"Sure, we'd love to," Buffy interrupted, swinging around and plopping down in a chair. Xander looked at his girlfriend, surprised and confused by her behavior.
"Um, yeah, okay," he added, sitting down in the empty chair next to her.
Willow looked at the two of them uneasily, wondering what Buffy could possibly be up to. They sat in silence, the tension between them growing. The redhead glanced uneasily towards Will and was relieved to see him heading back towards their table, drinks in hand. He paused for just a moment as he noticed that they had company, but merely raised his eyebrow slightly as he continued towards them.
"Slayer," he acknowledged, inclining his head towards her as he settled onto the seat next to Willow. "Here's your drink, luv," he added, putting it in front of her. Relieved, Willow took a long, deep drink of something strong, hoping whatever it was would relax her.
The silence stretched again; finally Will broke it. "Well, since nobody seems to want to talk, let's dance, shall we?" He stood up, holding out his hand to Willow. She grasped it gratefully, giving him a nervous smile, and they walked slowly onto the dance floor.
The song was a soft slow ballad, so Willow walked into Will's embrace, placing her arms around his neck. His hands rested lightly on her hips, moving their bodies in time to the music. She looked over his shoulder at their table. Buffy and Xander were sitting there still, her blonde head bent next to his darker one. They seemed to be in deep conversation, Xander trying to tell Buffy something she didn't want to hear, by the look of it.
"Ignore them, Red," Will whispered in her ear. Then she felt his lips on her earlobe, nibbling gently. She sighed softly and her body melted into his. They continued to move together, lost in the music. His body felt so good against hers. So gentle and strong and…and hard. She stepped back uneasily as she felt his growing erection against her stomach.
"Sorry, luv, I can't help it," he whispered, knowing the cause of her action. "My body reacts to you, whether I want it to or not."
"Tha-that's from me? But…but why?"
"What do you mean, 'why'? Because you're beautiful, sexy and sweet. Because you feel so good when you're in my arms."
"But you've never…well, you've never tried anything. Not after that first night." She hid her face against his chest in embarrassment. "I thought you lost interest, or that I wasn't good."
He groaned in frustration, amazed that they had managed to misread each other so badly. He moved his hand to her chin, lifting her face so that he could look into her beautiful emerald eyes. "That first night was a mistake," he told her. "It should never have gone as far as it did. I was mad at you, but I didn't handle it well."
Willow looked up at him, frustrated, scared, uncertain. He pulled her closer to him again, kissing her softly on her trembling lips. As she groaned and pressed back against him, he trailed kisses down her neck, kissing a path to her bare shoulder. She hid her head in his chest again, and they stood together like that until the song was over, just holding each other.
When the music stopped, Willow looked around, surprised. Her eyes flitted back to their table and noticed that it was now empty. Xander and Buffy must have decided to find their entertainment elsewhere, she thought in relief.
"Let's go home," she said huskily, pulling Will towards the table and collecting their things.