...~*~...

PROLOGUE

Willow let out a frightened shriek and danced backwards as a segment of street before her shattered, sending clumps of pavement spiralling
outwards.  Her arm flung in front of her face instinctively.  Willow tensed, waiting for the feel of hard, jagged pieces of the street slamming into her body -- injuring if not outright killing her.  A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, and they were tumbling to the side, out of the range of the flying debris.

Her back collided by the street, and Willow's breath escaped her with a pained gasp.  Her rescuer's weight pinned her down, and Willow had to
struggle to draw in new air.  The feel of him against her and his painfully familiar scent told Willow who had saved her even before her eyes slitted open to meet Spike's blue gaze.  "Thank you," she murmured.

Spike merely grunted, rising to his feet.  He paused long enough to offer her his hand, tugging Willow up after him when she accepted it. Willow groaned softly as she found her feet, her vision swimming crazily.  She clutched at Spike's arm for balance, relief blossoming in her when he didn't brush her hands off of him, leaving her to collapse back to the pavement.  Blinking away tears, Willow looked around Spike's shoulder towards the others.

It was ironic, Willow thought with a slight tinge of bitterness, that considering that Buffy had been pushing her friends aside for their 'safety,' they had been attacked while leaving Giles' apartment.  'And Buffy without her toy soldiers and fancy weapons,' Willow silently sneered before she caught the thought.  She chastised herself thoroughly for her vindictive thoughts and winced when the creature lazily backhanded the Slayer, sending the blonde wheeling backwards with a startled grunt.

"Bloody hell!" she heard Spike curse, and Willow's attention swung away from Buffy to the creature.  Compared to many of the other demons Willow
had encountered, the creature they were facing was actually bland.  It was tall and thin, nearly human in features save for the tiny silver scales that covered it in place of skin.  That, and the sparking blue energy that danced back and forth between its hands.  Had Willow not just seen that energy destroy part of the street upon which they stood, she would have declared the play of energy to be almost pretty.

The demon's narrow, milky eyes were latched onto Willow and Spike. "Oh, Goddess!" Willow breathed her counterpart to Spike's growled curse.  She had seen how fast and how far those bolts of light could travel.  She and the vampire were about to be fried where they stood. Hope flickered to life within her as Willow saw Buffy stumble back to her feet behind the demon.  On silent feet, she lunged forward, savagely bringing her stake down towards the creature's unprotected back.

The stake bit through flesh and scale, burrowing towards its heart even as the energy sparking around its hands burst free.  The energy was no
longer blue, but a deep angry red, as if the monster's dying blood had soaked into the crackling stuff.  Willow barely had time to shriek a protest before the red light struck through Spike's chest, slamming through the vampire to claim Willow as well.  Everything went red, then black, too painful, too intense even to scream.

As one, witch and vampire collapsed to the street.

...~*~...

PART 1

"It's getting _stronger_," Spike snarled the moment he stormed through the front door of Giles' apartment, Willow trailing behind him, a pale and silent ghost.  He glared at Giles, enough rage glinting in his eyes that the Watcher took a step backwards, even though he knew intellectually that the vampire remained unable to even threaten humans.  "I've been stuck with the bloody witch for _two_ months now, and it hasn't gone away!"  There was something near hysteria buried deep beneath his tone.

Giles stiffened his shoulders, forcing himself to face Spike's enraged face without flinching.  "What is it now, Spike?" he asked.  The embarrassed blush on Willow's otherwise pale face and the way she attempted to shrink in on herself informed Giles that a coherent explanation would not be forthcoming from her.  Moreover, in the temper he was in, Giles doubted that Spike would give either of them time enough to talk through things without interrupting.

It had been two months since Buffy had dragged Willow and Spike, both of them closer to unconsciousness than wakefulness, back to his apartment after they had been attacked on the street.  Giles still winced at the memory of them waking, both screaming with identical looks of amazed horror on their faces.  It seemed like that was the last time witch and vampire had found common ground on any subject.  But then, sharing thoughts with someone seemed certain to exacerbate difficulties already present.  Willow and Spike were so dissimilar that the former Watcher was sometimes amazed that they hadn't yet attempted to silence the other's thoughts permanently in a bout of violence.  'Although it may yet come to that if they don't learn to shield their thoughts from one another,' he amended.

"It's not bad enough that I'm getting a front row seat to her thoughts anymore," Spike ground out from beneath clenched teeth.  "Now, I get to
_feel_ what she is!  I'm a _vampire_!  We aren't supposed to get," his lips curled into a sneer, " 'ouchies.'"

Buffy had sprung up from the couch at Spike's mention of an injury. She drew Willow into her arms, casting a glare at the vampire.  "Are you hurt, Wills?" she demanded.

Willow seemed to deflate further.  "I'm fine, Buffy.  It's just..." she paused, looking at the others in the room, all watching her with various degrees of concerned interest, "...cramps."  Willow suddenly understood exactly how discomforted the Slayer must have been discussing such matters with Giles.

"Cramps?" Xander echoed with a snicker before casting a quick, apologetic glance in Willow's direction.  She rolled her eyes at him, dredging up a wan smile.  He turned laughing eyes back to Spike.  "I'm sure Willow can put you in the know about all the things you can take to make you feel better," he suggested.

There was a decidedly murderous cast to Spike's face as he glared at the mortal.  "Don't tempt me, whelp, or the mood swings may convince me
that killing you is worth the headache."  He drew a hand through his hair, and sucked in a deep, calming breath.  When he turned back to Giles, there was a look of composed reasonableness on his face.  "Now, what do you say you stop yammering and start _working_ on a way to cut this bond?"

Giles offered a quick prayer of thanks that the chip in Spike's head was still safely functional.  "It isn't that easy," he told both Spike and Willow.  The young woman's lower lip trembled piteously, silent testimony to the fact that being bonded with the vampire had been no  easier on her than it had for Spike.  Giles didn't doubt that in many ways it had been worse for Willow.  "There are several instances of bonding between individuals, but none completely mirror your situation. In my research concerning the creature, there was no hint as to how its death could have led to the two of you being linked together."

Buffy found the optimism necessary to summon a brilliant, hopeful smile.  "But we'll find something soon, won't we, Giles?  I mean, those books of yours are _ancient_!  There must be other people who experienced the same thing Willow is, right?"  Her hand patted at Willow's slumped shoulders reassuringly.

Giles debated the merits of lying.  "Yes, I'm sure we shall, Buffy.  We most assuredly won't stop searching until we've found some way to help you through this, Willow."

Xander was still studying the pinched twist of Spike's lips.  He tossed his comment in the vampire's direction.  "Better hope that it doesn't take too long.  You wouldn't want Willow to grow up and start having kids while you're still swapping thoughts."  Xander was satisfactorily rewarded by Spike's reaction.

He swirled on Willow.  "That's it, pet.  You aren't even going to _think_ about shagging until you're safely out of my head!"

Willow burst into tears, her face pressing into Buffy's shoulders. Buffy's head jerked around in surprise at the unexpected sound of Spike's answering sob.  He glared at them all as his shoulders shuddered in time with Willow's, bloody tears falling faster than he could angrily swipe them away.

...~*~...

Willow could feel Spike at the back of her mind, a constant murmur of thoughts and feelings.  She was relieved that he felt muted, a soft, lazy contentment.  Stronger feelings tended to make his presence in her mind spark until Willow thought she was more Spike than she was herself.

She had figured out enough to know that she couldn't hide her thoughts from the vampire.  Having him hooked into her mind had been embarrassing, especially when Willow was incapable of reigning into her decidedly sexually-tinged appreciation for Spike.  The witch had tried her best to hide those random thoughts until Spike had informed her that struggling to hide them only served to make them stand out among the flow of her thoughts constantly brushing across his mind.  His voice had been expressionless, and Willow hadn't known whether he was silently laughing at her infatuation or disgusted by being mind-linked to such a flustered little 'child.'

It was embarrassing to consider that her mind was open to Spike's perusal.  There were emotions and thoughts, even mere surface ones, that
Willow wanted nothing more than to safely keep to herself.  It felt vaguely traitorous that Spike could clearly hear and feel Willow's increasing irritation towards the Slayer.

Although Spike was a constant in her mind, his emotions were so confused, seeped in experience and instincts distinctly inhuman, that Willow could hardly claim to understand the vampire any better than she had before she gained a foothold in his thoughts.  Willow might have taken the opportunity to delve into Spike's psyche and sate her curiosity about him had it not been for his demon.  Willow shuddered at the mere thought of that dark, thirsting presence.  She no longer needed to wonder what it meant to be a vampire -- she _knew_.  She could feel it pull at her, urging her to let herself go to it, to let loose her darkest desires.  It whispered to her of hunger and death, and Willow had to fight the urge to listen to its seductive promises.

Since being joined to Spike, Willow often found herself staring at people's necks.  Although muted, she shared some of the vampire's sharper senses, straining to hear the steady thrum of blood surging through living bodies.  Willow had kept that little side effect of the bond to herself.  She didn't think Buffy could handle hearing that her best friend had considered tearing through flesh with her own blunt teeth.

Willow twisted beneath her sheets, throwing her arm over her clenched eyes.  Spike was already sleeping, a flash of the blood soaked images which had lulled him into darkness flickering against Willow's closed eyelids.  From across the room, Buffy let out a soft, contented murmur. Willow gritted her teeth, her arm flinging to her side as she glared at the sleeping Slayer through the darkness of their room.  The red head's nails carved into the flesh of her palm as Buffy sighed against, her bed squeaking beneath her as she shifted.

Cool air slid against Willow's legs as she flung back her sheets.  She took the three steps necessary to reach Buffy's bed, not hesitating to climb onto the mattress beside Buffy.  The Slayer flopped onto her back.  Her tank top had crept up her flat stomach, and her skin was hot against Willow's thighs as the witch straddled her.  A soft, eager plea wound around Willow as she watched Buffy's eyes flicker beneath her eyelids.

Watching her best friend sleep, Willow felt a sudden wave of revulsion.  The feeling swept through her, distorting thoughts and memories.  Willow didn't fight the compulsion to reach for Buffy's neck -- could no longer recall any reason _not_ to.  Buffy was warm and living and vulnerable beneath her.  Willow's breath quickened as she squeezed down upon the other woman's throat.

Buffy jerked beneath Willow, her eyes flying open.  Her hands were loose, and snapped upwards, wrapping around Willow's delicate wrists. She tore Willow's hands away from her neck, drawing air into burning lungs as she flipped the other woman over, reversing their positions. Willow's flesh seemed cool within Buffy's hands, and the Slayer felt a warning trill along her senses, a close cousin of the sensation that informed her of a vampire's presence.  She rocked back slightly, one hand fumbling for the light switch of the  lamp situated next to her bed.

"_Willow_?" Buffy gasped as her eyes adjusted to the light.  She wasn't as surprised as she should have been.

Willow blinked at her blearily.  "I couldn't sleep."

...~*~...

Spike was asleep on Giles' couch when Buffy pounded at the door. Usually, he wouldn't have been wasting nighttime hours sleeping, but Willow's exhaustion had crept towards him through their link until the vampire could hardly contemplate rising from his bedding to get a warm mug of blood, much less roaming the streets.  Buffy's key was grating in the lock before Spike had shaken off the remains of his dreams.  He shifted upright, glaring at Buffy over the back of the couch as she moved into the room.

Giles had heard her as well, coming down the stairs, tugging the sash of his robe tighter around him.  "Buffy?" he asked, a yawn chasing her name.  The former Watcher rubbed at his eyes, looking at Willow over the Slayer's shoulder.  "Did something happen to Willow?" he asked.

"In a manner of speaking," Buffy grated, her voice raw and pained.  She brushed past Giles, moving straight towards Spike.  Watcher and witch
trailed behind her, the former curious and the latter looking dazed and worried.  Buffy's hands scrambled against the bare flesh of Spike's chest before finding purchase around his neck.  She pulled the vampire towards her.  "Do you mind telling me what you were doing?" she demanded.

Willow's thoughts were a confused storm providing no explanation. Spike's lips curled into a smile as he saw the darkening bruises against Buffy's neck, exposed by the plunging v-neckline of her blouse.  He batted Buffy's hands away from him, a push at her stomach sending her back several steps.  "I didn't do anything, Slayer."

"Buffy?" Giles questioned, gaining the young woman's attention before she could launch into a round of accusations against Spike.  "Perhaps you could explain?" he urged as he fell into a seat.

"Willow tried to strangle me," Buffy said shortly.

Spike snorted.  "I'm certain the chit isn't the first to have wanted to," he said, and winced as he felt a sudden surge of remorse from the witch.  ~Come here,~ he directed his thoughts in Willow's direction. She approached reluctantly as Spike flung his feet from the couch, drawing his blankets over his lap.  He patted the cushion next to himself.  Spike looped his arms around Willow's shoulder, tugging her closer to him.  A start of confused surprise burned away the sharp edge of her guilt, much to Spike's relief.  He hadn't mourned any of his own victims, and he had no interest in angsting over Willow's unsuccessful attack against the Slayer.

Buffy harnessed her temper, ignoring Spike.  "She was _strong_, too, Giles."

Spike shrugged.  "Red took action on her own.  I was sleeping."  ~No! No more of that~ he directed straight into the face of the renewed guilt
growing in the girl he held.  ~You barely even hurt Slutty.~

Giles wearily rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  "Ah... do you perhaps happen to recall what you were dreaming of, Spike?" he inquired.

A scarred eyebrow arched mockingly.  "What do you think?"

Giles looked at Willow, his eyes softening with sympathy and concern. "I'd imagine that Spike's... frustrations at his forced inactivity spilled over to you, Willow.  Since Spike is no longer able to injure humans, and since you have no such restrains, it seems likely that you served as a vessel for his hostilities."

He was feeling relaxed, Spike admitted to himself.  His demon rumbled in contentment, its sharp longing for violence somewhat sated.

Willow's voice cracked with emotion as she spoke for the first time since arriving.  "I don't want to hurt anybody!  I don't like this... I just want this all to _stop!_"  ~...jump beneath me, gasping for air... can't ignore me now, can you, Buffy?... thinking I'm weak... pretty... everybody wants her... _bitch_~

The Watcher sighed.  "I believe that we've been going around this the wrong way.  Obviously, things are not getting better over time, nor does the distance between Willow and Spike seem to curb the strength of their link.  It seems more than time that the two of you start actively trying to learn to control your abilities."

Willow nodded reluctantly.  "I think that's best.  Can I... can I stay here for the rest of the night, Giles?"

"That would be fine, Willow.  We'll work everything out tomorrow."

Buffy stepped forward, bending down as she drew Willow into a fierce hug.  "It's going to be just fine, Willow.  I'll see you tomorrow, first thing."

Willow smiled tightly, nodding, as Spike's mind sunk into her clearing memories, drinking in the feel of Buffy struggling beneath their combined hands.

...~*~...

PART 2

It had taken them five days to work out a plan which they all agreed upon.  Willow had gone back to her parents' house during the interim, unable to deal with the thought of spending another moment alone with Buffy.  Willow had never thought of herself as violent.  Though the others attempted to soothe her, saying that her actions against the Slayer had been fueled by Spike, Willow feared that she had given in as easily as she had due only to her own carefully concealed well of darkness.  Buffy's protestations had been more for show than heartfelt as Willow had informed her that she was leaving.

"Home sweet home," Willow muttered as she stepped into the mansion, letting her suitcase drop to the floor.  She sneezed as the sudden movement sent a thick layer of dust billowing outwards.  After arranging their living conditions, and receiving Angel's permission to use his former home, the others had insisted that they wished to help Willow make it habitable.  Willow had waved off their offer, wanting nothing more than to be left alone to brood.

She gasped slightly, her fingers curling against her stomach as Spike's presence sharpened in her mind upon a wave of anger, humiliation and
bitterness.  The memories crashed down upon her, quick upon the tail of the emotions.  She saw enough that her stomach began to churn, but she
was spared the details.  Willow fervently hoped that Spike's emotional baggage concerning their new home would be strictly kept to himself from
then on.

"So what now?" Spike asked from behind her, his voice carefully neutral.  Willow didn't know why he bothered while she could feel his opinions more clearly than his voice could possibly have expressed them.  ~...playing at the happy home maker...~

Willow straightened her shoulders, her back ramrod straight.  "Well, the furniture is still here, that's a good thing...," she said, dragging her index finger across the back of the couch situated before the mansion's large fireplace.  She sneezed again, her eyes watering. "First, we dust."  She forced a cheery smile to her lips as she turned on her heel to face the glowering vampire.  "Think of it as practice... if we get into the habit of working together, things will probably flow better once we start practicing with the... uh, link."

Her smile faltered as Willow glanced around.  Perhaps it was every woman's dream to live in her very own mansion -- but said fantasy had never included anything about the work necessary to keep the dwelling habitable.  She hadn't really visited the mansion very often -- first due to it's status as lair to three master vampires, and following that, because Angel, even souled, had the power to make her uncomfortable. But during those rare occasions she had been within the mansion's walls, it hadn't looked quite so... grimy.

"That's what the minions are for, pet," Spike stated, making Willow jump.  It still startled her when he replied to words left unspoken.

"Minions?" she repeated uncertainly.  A moment later, a vision of vampires, game faces firmly in place and moving purposely throughout the room with mops and dust-busters in hand served as Spike's reply.  Willow giggled, her hand clamping against her mouth.  ~You're joking,~ her mind-voice wavered with her laughter.

~Can't get anything by you, can I,~ he answered, his voice mocking. "Actually, we hired the services of a professional cleaning service." He felt her question even before it formed at her lips.  "Human.  Look hard enough in Sunnyhell, and there are humans willing to close their eyes to anything."

"That's not a pleasant thought," Willow murmured.  "I wonder... if it hadn't been for Buffy, would I have been one of those people who hear screaming in the night but do nothing but check to make sure their own door is firmly locked?"  ~Mom?  I think I heard something... None of our
concern, Willow.  Go to bed.~

Spike studied her through narrow eyes.  "I doubt it, luv."

She stared back at him for a long moment before blinking.  Her head ducked, breaking away from his gaze.  "Let's get started, then.  I want to get at least one room dust-free by bedtime, or I'll be too busy sneezing to sleep."

...~*~...

"Good enough for now," Willow gasped, letting the dust rag she had been wielding fall limply to her side.  She wiped the back of her hand against her forehead, her gasp of air making her bangs float upwards. They had chosen to tackle the master bedroom first, and Willow couldn't wait to get clean and tumble into bed.  Boxes of necessities had been delivered to the mansion a day before she and Spike had arrived, including fresh sheets.  Willow watched Spike's butt as he scrambled over the enormous bed, tucking in the last corner of the bed sheets.

"I felt that," Spike informed her as he stood up, glaring at the freshly made bed with irritation from the corner of his eyes before turning his attention to the witch.

Willow blushed slightly.  "And you were posing," she countered.  'That, or Spike is the most provocative bed maker I've ever encountered!' Willow thought to herself.

The vampire grinned easily.  "You have dirt right... _there_," he said, his thumb moving across her cheek.  Willow's breath caught in her throat.

He stepped backwards, cocking his head as he regarded her.  Willow yelped as a vision of how she looked was directed towards her.  Her hands flew to her hair, her fingers questing for the wild strands of hair jutting out from her short, lopsided pony tail.  "You're exaggerating," she insisted.  Spike merely snorted at her.  Willow groaned dejectedly.  "Right, how could I suspect the paragon of truth of exaggerating to me," she muttered.

Willow wanted nothing more than to soak in the immense, sunken tub she had discovered while exploring the mansion.  Seeing as the bathroom was
as dust filled as was the rest of the mansion, Willow decided that she would have to settle for a quick run-over with a rag over the tub, and a quick shower.  'Tomorrow, the bathroom.  Definitely.'

"So, this is how we'll work things tonight," Willow informed Spike. "First, I'm taking a shower.  I get the bed tonight, while you go out and do... whatever it is you vampires do," she said, ticking off each item on her fingers.  "In the morning, when I get up for school, you can have the bed.  I only have two classes tomorrow, so when I get back, we'll clean out a room for you and hit the bathroom.  And then we have the weekend ahead of us to fix up the rest of this place.  Sounds good?"  She was darting out of the room before he could reply, having already captured a towel and washcloth from the open box of them sitting on the bedroom floor.

...~*~...

Willow turned her face into the spray of warm water.  'I don't know _how_ I'm going to survive this,' she thought with a groan.  Even as incredibly weary as she was, the thought of Spike waiting in the bedroom as she showered was enough to send shivers racing through her. Irritated and streaked with dust, Spike was still undeniably sexy.

She shifted until her back was towards the shower head.  Willow's head lolled backwards, wet hair gliding between her shoulder blades.  She sighed as she moved the washcloth across her breasts.  The tiny sound made her stiffen.  'Goddess!' Willow silently hissed, glaring at her wandering hands accusingly.  'I'm getting clean.  I will not fantasize! Damn it -- Spike is right in the other room, and if I'm not careful, he'd end up getting one hell of a show.'  Her breath hitched.

"I'm sick," Willow muttered.

~Don't stop on my account, pet.~

Willow finished her shower in record time.  She tried to tell herself that she wasn't disappointed when she made her way back into the bedroom and found Spike gone.

...~*~...

"Bloody busybody," Spike grumbled sourly.

Willow arched an eyebrow.  "Don't get so worked up, Spike!  Angel isn't coming here to check up on _us_."  Willow silently thanked the Goddess for _that_ bit of good news.  She didn't think she had the strength to deal with Buffy's ex, especially while Spike's feelings for the elder vampire were sure to be... difficult.  The mere memories of Angelus the mansion had awakened in her companion had nearly floored Willow.  Her relief faltered at the thought that the vampire was returning to Sunnydale with Faith in tow.

Spike snorted.  "So he says.  Peaches will make sure that he has time enough to lecture me about my responsibilities, try to impart his words of wisdom concerning this bloody chip in my head, and threaten me should you even break a finger nail while in my presence."

"I don't see why Angel should give a damn about me, anyway," she shrugged.  "He barely spoke a word to me while he was dating Buffy.  I mean, I didn't even get a nod for returning his soul! ...Which he went to Hell with, but that is completely besides the point!"  Willow paused a moment, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one delicate ear.  "You know, Angel never seemed like such the mother hen..."

Spike stepped away from the couch he had been manhandling, regarding it critically.  "There's a lot you don't know about the poof," he said, listening for Willow's shocked gasp as he broadcasted an image at her. He kept his face carefully impassive as he turned on his booted heel to
regard the red faced witch.

"That _so_ did not happen!" Willow protested when she found her voice.

"Bah at him sometime and see what he does if you don't believe me," Spike suggested.

Willow shook her head, pressing the palm of her hands against her eyes.  "No, thank you.  I'd much rather not.  And if you ever feel the need to share an image like that again -- _don't_."  Her hands fell away and Willow glared at the vampire.  "I don't know if I'll even be able to look at him without seeing _that_, now," she groaned.

Spike chuckled.  'Good.  Peaches doesn't need another woman drooling over him.'  "Can't say that you seemed all that impressed with the thought of Angel stopping by, even before I showed you Angelus' wild days cavorting in pasture lands."

Willow flushed again.  "Do me a favour and forget that you ever showed me that, will you?" she pleaded.  "And it isn't Angel that's troubling me.  It's Faith."  /envy/ hatred/ fear/ desire/ burned between them as Willow spoke the second Slayer's name.  "Giles said that Angel told him that Faith wants to atone for her crimes... that she's coming here to try to make things right."

The couch arranged to his satisfaction, Spike dropped down into the cushions.  Vampire strength and stamina weren't quite as effective while he suffered phantom aches that Willow was dealing with.  "What's the problem then, pet?  I've done worse, so has the poof."

The witch scowled, waving off Spike's comments.  "Let's just say that Faith and I have... issues."  ~buffy... xander... kidnaped... kiss~

She gestured at him irritably.  "Now get up, Spike!  We aren't done yet.  I still have to rearrange my bookshelf," Willow said, looking over her shoulder at the aforementioned furniture.  He ignored her, falling onto his back, jean clad legs swinging onto the cushions.  Spike stretched out, his eyes closing and his hands falling against his stomach.  /irritation/ lust/.  Spike smirked.

"Fine then, you... _obnoxious_ vampire!" Willow grumbled.  Spike's eyes slitted open a fraction as Willow's teeth dug into her lower lip.  Red brows furrowed as Willow stared at the book case intently.  Willow and Spike both let out startled curses as the book shelf shot straight up towards the ceiling, all the other furniture in the room trailing close after it.  Spike had barely rolled off the couch before it slammed upwards.

"What the hell?" Spike demanded.  The feeling of power arching through him informed the vampire that whatever had occurred had root in the bond
he shared with Willow.

"That's new," Willow murmured, shocked awe in her low voice.  She looked at Spike, her eyes glinting.  "I think we just got a whole heck of a lot more powerful," Willow informed Spike before the rest of her words were drowned out beneath the sound of the levitated furniture crashing back to the ground.

...~*~...

PART 3

Willow slumped in her chair, leaning as far away from Buffy as possible.  The edge of her desk bit into her ribs, but the young woman ignored the discomfort.  She wished that her seat was on the other side of the classroom from Buffy's.  Although Willow had a firm suspicion as to where her new found distaste for her best friend was coming from, it made it no easier to combat it.  Willow was tasting the edges of what every vampire who encountered the Slayer dealt with.  There was a hard edge of fear born from the need to survive, intermingling with an instinctive hatred.  Unless Angel's soul had totally obliterated his vampiric instincts, Willow had to wonder how he had managed to stomach the blonde.  'And no wonder Spike was so disturbed after that spell made him kiss Buffy,' the witch thought with a twinge of distaste that was all her own.

Buffy hadn't noticed Willow's evident discomfort.  The blonde's chin was cupped in her hand, highly glossed lips parted hungrily as she followed the shift of Riley's muscles beneath his shirt as the T.A. deposited a box of corrected exams onto the table.  Riley shot a quick glance into the sea of faces, his attention immediately captured by Buffy.  The Slayer shot him a wicked grin before nipping down on the tip of the pen she held.

Willow rolled her eyes.  The professor had remained oblivious during the exchange during Buffy and their T.A.  'And they had better hope that he never catches onto what they're doing after class, or the two of them are going to get quite a talking to,' Willow thought.  However, she doubted that the professor would notice the sexual tension between Riley and Buffy even were they to lock lips on top of his desk.  Professor Andrews had been teaching the class since Professor Walsh's death. Although Willow's opinion of their former professor had taken a sharp downward turn after the woman's less than sympathetic reaction to Oz's departure, at least she had been interesting.

It hadn't been very long since Professor Andrews had been a T.A. himself, but he was capable of putting the class to sleep with as much ease as the oldest, hidebound professor lingering in the halls of Sunnydale University.  The man was full of irritating habits.  He arched a hand through his slicked back hair, thrust both of them into his pockets where he rattled at his keys, rose onto his toes and dropped back down.  Repeatedly.  He was also one of the few professionals to eagerly embrace Freud's theories, and at the moment, the professor was droning on about the unconscious.

It had been some minutes since Willow had first blocked out his lecture.  Her pen collided against the corner of her open notebook repeatedly, in time with the monotonous rise and fall of the professor's voice.  Only the hand held against her cheek kept Willow's head from slumping forward in an obvious pose of disinterest.  Willow choked at the sudden taste of blood in her mouth.  Several students shifted their attention towards her, seeking out some action of interest.  Willow covered her mouth, coughing weakly.  No longer curious, the eyes slid away from her again.

Buffy nudged Willow's arm with her elbow, and Willow cringed back before she had time to school her reaction.  Buffy's eyes were wide with curiosity and a tinge of hurt.  Willow shrugged slightly.  "Feeding," she mouthed silently, to the Slayer's answering nod.  Buffy's nose wrinkled slightly in disgust.  Willow felt a sharp surge of irritation at the other woman's response.  'He's only doing what he needs to survive,' the witch thought, pulling her narrowing eyes away from Buffy's profile.

Willow no longer knew whether her acceptance of Spike's feeding habits was her own, or had grown out of sharing in part his hunger and demon. There were times when her own stomach clenched with hunger that could not be sated no matter how much food she consumed.  The ache faded  only when Spike fed and the taste of blood exploded against her tastebuds. With a hot flush, Willow remembered the one time that the craving had
come upon her so strongly that even knowing that Spike had just fed on pig's blood had not been able to calm her hunger.  He had been anxious,
a caged animal longing for its freedom and the taste of freshly spilled human blood.  Willow hadn't realized what she was doing until her teeth had broken the skin on her arm, her own blood flowing past her lips. She wasn't sure whether Spike had felt the discomfort Willow had not, or if it had been her blood which had called out to him.  But he had found her, staring at her bloody arm in shock.

Willow still shivered when she remembered the feel of his body against hers as he held her, his lips moving against the self-inflicted wound in her arm.  By the time he had swiped his tongue against her flesh the last time, Willow's knees had turned to jelly, and she had been willing to push him onto his back and devour him at that very moment.  'If he'd let me,' Willow thought with remembered disappointment.  She had tasted her blood against his lips as he had kissed her, and then he had been gone.  It was beyond frustrating.  The link that thrummed between them left no doubt as to his interest, and yet, despite all the opportunities for a physical relationship that their living arrangements provided, Spike had kept his hands to himself.  Willow sometimes suspected that he was _trying_ to drive her crazy.  That night, her arm still aching dully, Willow had climbed into bed, hips arching against her fingers as she brought herself the relief that Spike seemed loathe to provide.  It was the first time she'd done so, knowing that the vampire lingered in her mind, but at that moment,  she hadn't cared.  The embarrassment had come when she awoke, cautiously venturing into the kitchen to find Spike already there.  'I've _never_ seen anybody's eyes look like that,' the witch thought.

"Hey, Willow!" Buffy called out, shaking the red head gently by the shoulder.

Willow drew in a quavering breath, flushed face rising to meet Buffy's eyes.  "What?" she asked.

Buffy's lips twisted in amusement.  "God, I remember _those_ daydreams," she grinned.  Willow wondered if the Slayer would be quite so amused if she were to inform her of exactly _what_ her thoughts had consisted of.  "Class is over, though, Wills."  She glanced over her shoulder in Riley's direction.  The soldier was stationed next to the door, patiently waiting for her.  "Riley and I are off for some... quality time before my next class."

"Have fun, Buffy," Willow murmured, ducking out from beneath the Slayer's warm hands.  She picked up her books, hugging them to her chest, silently willing her heart rate to slow.

"Oh, we will," Buffy giggled.

...~*~...

/pain/ Willow jerked, stumbling over her own feet as colliding into the wall.  She shifted so that her back rested against the wall, one hand rising to clutch at the shoulder that had impacted upon it.  Her teeth gritted against a scream as she felt a sharp, cracking pain radiate out through her cheekbone.

/rage/.  Her knuckles burned, muscles straining as somewhere in the descending darkness, Spike lashed out against his attackers.  Willow's entire body quivered in sympathy, a low, rumbling growl tumbling past curled lips -- an echo of Spike's.  Her schoolbag had tumbled from numb fingers when the unexpected pain first burst to life within her.  Willow slid down beside it as her knees gave way beneath her.

Though her eyes were clenched shut, the students around her were clearer than mere vision would have permitted.  She could hear their hearts pounding, taste the concern and fear clouding around them.  The scent of bathroom soap was overwhelming to her powerful sense of smell. "Call an ambulance, she's having a seizure or something!" a shrill, feminine voice cried out as Willow's back arched, her head slamming into the wall supporting her.

Behind closed eyelids, Willow saw two demons -- tall and muscular and clearly capable of tearing a human into quivering chunks of bloodied meat.  The world spun around her as they lifted Spike, swinging him towards the ground.  Bile rose in Willow's throat.  She clutched at her stomach, gagging.

   ~Weak,~ snarled upon rumbling voices.  /rage /pain /humiliation/ ~_Weak_.~

Willow's eyes rolled back in her head as she slumped sideways bonelessly.

...~*~...

This time, there was no confusion as to who was at her bedside when she awoke in the hospital.  His hand was cool, his thumb tracing tiny circles over her flesh.  "Spike?" Willow murmured as she cautiously opened her eyes.  Relief burst within her, powerful enough that Spike's fingers stilled against her as the emotion washed through him.  "How'd you get in?" she asked, her hand curling against his, holding him in place.

He grinned, the expression tight with some unreadable emotion.  Willow reached out towards him cautiously with her mind, shrinking back into her pillows when she brushed against a wall of pure black hatred. "Fiance," Spike explained.

Willow forced her thoughts away from Spike's emotional stability with some difficulty.  "And I haven't even seen you naked yet," she murmured,
forcing her own lips to twitch into an answering smile, as unreal as Spike's.  "No test ride, either."  She sighed, running a cautious mental inventory of her injuries.  Considering that she had been one step removed from being beaten by demons, she felt remarkably fine.  'Another fringe benefit of the bond?  Shared vampiric healing powers?' Willow mused.  "The others?"

"No test ride for them, either," Spike told her.  She rolled her eyes at him.  "Out in the waiting room, giving the engaged couple a bit of privacy."  He paused a moment.  "You're fine, Willow.  The doctors are having a fit over it, but they can't find anything wrong with you." /regret/.  Spike cleared his throat, fingers absently weaving through Willow's hair.  "I'm sorry about this," he said finally.

Willow shrugged.  "Hey, don't be.  I suppose you owe me for the cramps -- and you'll have to be putting up with that more often than I'll be getting ouchies from you.  Besides, it's not like I've never been knocked around a bit."  She was just glad to see that the vampire was all right.  Before she had blacked out on the floor of the school bathroom, Willow had suffered from a feeling of pure terror for Spike's safety.

Spike growled softly.  "Don't bother with that," he snapped at her, shifting back in his chair, his hands no longer moving against her. "The bloody Slayer and her pet soldier saved me."

Willow cringed at the wave of humiliation and self-disgust that accompanied the admission.  "They were... awfully big.  And strong."

"Don't patronize me, pet," Spike snarled.  His face closed down until it was an expressionless mask, his eyes burned in the stillness of his face -- roiling with alien emotions.  "Those demons wouldn't have even thought about attacking me if I weren't neutered," his lip curled upon the last word.

"You're strong, Spike.  No matter what they said," Willow whispered, wanting nothing more than to ease the pain that the attack had ignited in her partner.

He glowered at her, pushing away from the bed.  Spike rose, his body stiff with tension.  "And you're a silly fool," the vampire spat angrily before stalking towards the door.

"Damned vampire," Willow grumbled before closing her eyes against the empty room.

...~*~...

Willow's pain trailed him like a faithful animal, a constant rebuke at his inability to protect himself and his own.  The red head hadn't been in the hospital longer than a day, and upon arriving home she had insisted first Giles, Buffy and Xander that she was fine before turning on Spike and repeated in much greater detail the exact state of her health.  With a crooked grin, she had offered to do cartwheels through their living room to convince him of the truth in her words.  Spike's dark mood had kept him from even saying anything lewd at her comments.

Beyond his injured pride, the attack had driven home the point that he lacked the ability to ensure Willow's safety.  Although the chip the Initiative had forced into his head allowed him to fight other demons, that served as little comfort.  The other creatures which roamed Sunnydale were out for his blood because he aided the Slayer on occasion, and the lack of his bite ensured that he couldn't gather a clan around him as a power base.  He couldn't even claim Willow as his the only way that other vampires would recognize.  Though her mind was intimately interwoven with his own, her neck remained free of his mark. 'Bloody hell.  Even Harm got her fangs into the witch.'

"Spike?" Willow called out hesitantly.  "I hope you won't mind too much... but I offered to host our little get together with Angel and Faith at the mansion," she said.  The nearly maniacal energy that had pulsing within her had dimmed somewhat as she spoke of the vampire and the dark haired Slayer.  Spike cocked a scared eyebrow at the witch, and Willow faltered.  "Fine, then.  Buffy told me that our place was the only one with enough room to fit everyone comfortably.  I tried to resist, I really did.  But she _whined_ at me, Spike!" Willow sighed dramatically.  "I cracked under the pressure."

"Pet," he protested.

Willow grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.  "Don't worry so much, Spike!" she said, waving her hand airily.  "We aren't going to be hear to listen to Faith's sob story and sorry ass excuses."

"We aren't?" Spike asked, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched her.

"Nu uh," Willow affirmed.  She flew across the room on sock clad feet, slipping into Spike.  His hands automatically reached out, resting against her hips as he steadied her.  Willow flung her arms around Spike's neck, rising on her toes.  Her warm breath brushed against his skin as she whispered into his ear.  "We're going to be getting your bite back."

...~*~...

PART 4

Had Angel's hand not been firmly planted against her lower back, Faith might have made a run for the car.  When the vampire had first suggested
facing her past and putting old ghosts to rest, Faith had snorted in disbelief.  She wanted to change, but she hadn't expected that her mentor would force her to confront the place and the people who had surrounded her as she began her downward plunge.  There wasn't any of the Scoobies who didn't have reason to hate her, and Faith wasn't fond enough of self-punishment to look forward to the withering scorn and hatred sure to be directed towards her.

She sure as hell wasn't looking forward to facing Willow.  Faith bit the inside of her lip as she recalled the stunned look on the red head's face as she had slumped against the wall, still shaking from the orgasm Faith had brought her to.  She had pulled her hand free from between the other woman's legs, wiping them against Willow's skirt, bunched around her waist.  "You aren't any better than me, after all, little girl," Faith had whispered against her ear.  Willow's slight body had trembled with a completely different emotion then as she had smoothed down her skirt with shaking hands.  Something dark and broken had flooded Willow's bright green eyes before Faith had turned away.  The Slayer had locked the red head away in the room then, leaving her to be traded for or killed.  Faith hadn't been able to rid herself of Willow's memory as easily as she had of her body.

Faith came to a sudden halt, stepping away from Angel's guiding hand. "Fuck this, Angel," she spat.  "They hate me anyway, it's too damned late to put things right here.  Why bother?" Maroon painted lips pulled back into a snarl as Angel's soulful brown eyes fastened onto her. "Fine, then, big guy.  You want me to apologize to them?  Tell me something, then.  Have you gone and begged their forgiveness yet?"

Angel flinched and Faith grinned triumphantly, turning around on the walkway leading to the mansion.  Long strides ate up the space leading back towards Angel's car.  She was almost there when Angel's strong fingers curled around her upper arm, cool palm resting against the tattoo circling her flesh.  "Don't do this, Faith," Angel told her.

She scowled at him.  "Don't do what?  Accept the fact that I've done some nasty shit to these people?  I've accepted that.  But I'm not about to sit there and beg for forgiveness that I know I'm not going to be getting.  Hell, your precious Buffy," the name came out sounding like a curse, "was ready to gut me the last time we met, if you don't remember.  And compared to some of the others, I didn't do shit to her."

He watched her reactions through narrowed eyes, and Faith saw a glimmer of the predator he had once been in truth.  "I didn't think you were such a coward, Faith."

"You think calling me names is going to convince me that you're right?" Faith sneered.

Angel shrugged.  "It was a thought.  You were ready to do this, Faith. What changed?  Who is it that has you so frightened."

Faith gritted her teeth, pulling her arm free of Angel's grasp.  "It's nothing that you'd understand," she said.

"Try me," Angel countered.

Her eyes fastened, unblinking, on the mansion's face over Angel's black silk covered shoulder.  Her arms crossed beneath her breasts defiantly, although her lips twisted minutely in indecision.  She sighed deeply, her head rolling back.  "Look, it's none of your damned business, okay? It isn't just me involved in this, and I'm not going to go running off at the mouth about something that isn't of your concern."  Faith doubted that Willow would appreciate having Angel hear about what had happened between them while the witch had been held by the Mayor.

Angel's eyes softened.  "No, you aren't the only one involved.  You hurt those children, and they deserve the chance to deal with that pain as much as you do."  His hand cupped Faith's cheek gently, and the Slayer blinked at him in shock.  The touch felt strangely intimate. "You can't truly get past this point in your life until you face it, Faith.  And I'll be there for you.  Trust me."

Faith bowed her head, dark hair tumbling around her face and obscuring her vision.  "Let's move, then, old man," she said, a grim smile on her lips when she rose to meet the vampire's gaze once more.

...~*~...

"Willow," Faith said, her voice subdued.  Angel looked at her sideways, hiding his surprise with practiced ease.  The brash aggressiveness in her voice that he was accustomed to had been stripped away.

He could hear Willow's heart rate increase, and noted that the red head sank against Spike.  His childe's hand rested against Willow's stomach, holding her against him.  "Faith," she responded, her voice wavering slightly.  Spike's sharp blue eyes narrowed, regarding the Slayer
suspiciously over Willow's head.

The red head looked at Angel from beneath lowered lashes, her face flushed.  She bit down slightly before parting her lips.  "Angel," she acknowledged, her voice tripping over his name.  She sounded as if she had nearly said something else in place of his name.  'What have you been telling the poor girl, Spike?' Angel wondered.

Faith cleared her throat, shifting from one boot encased foot to the other.  "Look, Red, I just wanted to say--"

Fear flashed in Willow's eyes, and behind her, Spike stiffened.  "Not now, not here, okay, Faith?  Not ever sounds good, actually.  I know you say you want to change -- and good for you -- but there's not anything I want to hear from you.  'Sorry' isn't going to cut it."  She drew in a wavering breath and plastered a brittle smile into place.  "Practically forgotten already."

Willow slipped out from Spike's arms, her shoulders stiffening proudly.  She gestured towards the couches arranged before the fire place.  "Take a seat.  The others should be arriving for this bitching session any minute now.  I'll just go... warm up some blood for the gentlemen," she said, casting a quick, laughing glance over her shoulder at Spike.

"Yeah, that went _real_ well," Faith breathed as Willow exited the room.  She bristled under Spike's glare.  "What is it, blondie?  Want me to apologize for the come on at the Bronze?"

Spike's brows furrowed slightly.  "What did you do to her?" he growled.

"Spike," Angel warned, earning a glare from his childe.

The Slayer snarled at him.  "If she wont tell you, I'm not about to."

Angel sighed.  'This may just be worse than I expected.'

...~*~...

Willow braced her hands against the counter top, dragging in deep breaths of air.  Her head hung, hair whispering around her pale face. 'Goddess, grant me strength,' she prayed.  Despite knowing that she and Spike wouldn't be amongst the other Scoobies and Faith for longer than absolutely necessary, Willow feared that she would be unable to keep her composure even that long.  The feel of Faith's hands moving over slick flesh with practiced ease hovered somewhere between fantasy and nightmare in her memory, shot with equal degrees of shame and lust.

"Sick," Willow muttered, pushing away from the counter.  She felt a questing presence at the edges of her mind and stiffened defensively. ~Keep your thoughts to yourself, Spike!~ she snarled at him, her mindspeech cracking with emotions usually unheard in her voice.  He nudged against her, more insistent.  ~Damn you,~ Willow thought, lashing out against him.  The shock of pain that came racing back at her informed Willow that her strike had been accurate.

She felt wetness at her nose, and lifted her hand to stem the flow of blood.  'I'm sorry.'

Wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and draw the covers over her head, blocking away the world, Willow moved on auto-pilot as she filled two mugs with blood and set them in the microwave.

...~*~...

Buffy's voice had climbed to a shriek by the time Willow and Spike slipped out the front door.  Spike's cool hand wound around Willow's delicate wrist loosely, guiding her through the darkness towards the car.  She followed him blindly, trusting the vampire to keep her safe. 'As if I deserve that after the way I treated him,' she thought miserably.  The excitement that had been sparking inside her since she had first determined to remove the chip from Spike had been drowned beneath a wave of guilt and confusion.

The car door slammed shut behind Spike.  He reached over, cupping her chin in his hand, forcing her head to turn and meet his eyes.  "Stop that, luv," he commanded.  "I'm not angry at you, and I most probably deserved what I got.  Had it been you snooping through my head, I probably would have reacted the same -- if not worse."

Willow's lower lip quivered.  "But I _hurt_ you."

He chuckled, the sound weaving about her and sending shivers down her spine.  "I know.  And believe me, I had a hard time explaining why I suddenly had an erection while telling the poof and his Slayer how we redecorated."

Willow giggled slightly.  "I wouldn't think Angel would be so rude as to ask."

"Who said anything about Angel?  That Slayer has quite the mouth on her."

"Doesn't she," Willow murmured.

Spike's hand fell to her knee.  "Tell me how this works, luv."

Willow straightened, her eyes brightening with renewed excitement. "Magic," she breathed eagerly.

Spike's eyes narrowed.  "The last spell of yours I experienced found me groping the bloody Slayer," he said suspiciously.

He could clearly see Willow's pout in the dim light.  "Why doesn't anyone trust me with magic," she mock whined.  Her voice was confident when she spoke next.  "Trust me on this one, Spike.  I _know_ what I'm doing.  I've been practicing a lot -- and you _saw_ how much stronger my magic is because of our link."

"And I also saw what happened to the furniture when you were finished with it.  I'd prefer keeping my brain in my head in one functioning piece."

Willow's hand rested against the vampire's.  "I promise to take very good care of you, Spike.  Let me do this for you."

"You never told me why you're doing this, pet.  You know I can't hurt you -- not without risking my own unlife, at least -- but our bond won't stop me from killing your friends.  Once this chip is gone, we aren't talking about tossing back pig's blood any more."

She paused a long moment before answering.  "Because I can feel you, Spike.  I know what the hunger is like -- the helplessness, the rage, the loss of _self_ that the Initiative forced upon you with that chip. It isn't right.  And it's taking you apart."  ~I _trust_ you.~

Spike crossed the space between him, his lips lightly brushing hers. "Thank you."

...~*~...

Xander's questing fingers met the bottom of the bowl.  They scrambled about blindly in search of more chips, finding only crumbs too small to be of any interest.  He looked around, blinking blearily at the other people in the room.  Giles seemed half-asleep in his chair, occasionally jerking his head upright and providing a half-aware hum of agreement to the comments Buffy directed towards him.  Riley was sitting next to Buffy, his face firmly set in a dejected mask.  Considering that his girlfriend had been quite vocally exploring her feelings about his little adventure with Faith while the dark haired woman was in Buffy's body, Xander could quite understand the man's expression.  Xander had said his share early on in the evening while Anya clung to his arm possessively and glared at the second Slayer.

Buffy was the only one who stilled seemed to have plenty to say about Faith's deficiencies and past crimes.  Xander had thought he felt Buffy's tirade winding down some hours past, but she had finally noted that Angel was holding Faith's hand.  After that, all hopes of getting home before the sun rose had been dashed.  'And Willow hasn't even had her turn yet,' Xander thought with a wince.  Willow had a passionate distaste for Faith, and once she got on a roll, Willow could be as long winded and pointed as was Buffy herself.

'And where _is_ Willow?' he wondered.  Xander shifted, and Anya slid lower down his chest.  Her fingers dug into the material of his jeans, perilously close to his crotch.  Xander winced slightly, settling back down.  He waited until Buffy paused for breath, not wanting to have to battle to be heard over the Slayer.  "Hey guys, I think Willow's missing."

"Willow?" Buffy asked.  "What do you mean?  She just went to get more chips."

Faith arched a thin eyebrow.  "That was three hours ago, B.," she informed her sister Slayer.  "Red and Blondie snuck out while you were ever so kindly pointing out that I'd abused your hospitality by going bad."

Buffy's mouth dropped open.  "Three hours?  With Spike?  And you didn't say anything!"

"They are kinda living together, Buffy," Xander offered.  "And it's not like Spike's going to be able to hurt Willow."  He shrank back as Buffy glared at him.  "Alright, then.  This is me, being quiet now."

"I figured that Red just didn't want to stick around while I was here. I don't think that she's so much into the emotional melodrama you have going here," Faith shrugged.  She pulled her hand out of Angel's, wiping her damp palms against her thighs.  Truth told, she'd been just as glad to see Willow leave.  Faith wasn't ready to face the witch, especially not with an audience.

Angel misread Faith's reaction.  "Maybe we should look for them, if you're concerned.  They should be fine, unless they run into a human strain of scum."

"You ought to work on that reassurance thing you have going there, Dead Boy," Xander muttered.

"I don't think that we're have to worry about either of them," Riley said calmly.  "The car just pulled into the driveway."  He had risen from the couch when Faith had mentioned Willow leaving.  Twitching aside the heavy drapes covering the window, he had seen the car pull in, its headlights off.  His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the vampire and witch's appearance.  "Although they do look like they've been in something of a scuffle," he noted.

"Scuffle?" Xander echoed with raised eyebrows.  He gently nudged at Anya's shoulders.  The former Vengeance Demon awoke with an unladylike
curse.  She rose to a sitting position, collapsing against Xander's side, her head resting against his shoulder.

Willow and Spike stepped into the room and into the half-curious, half-accusing looks of their friends.  Willow's face was flushed, her eyes glazed.  A pleased smile seemed to have frozen at her lips.  Blood was smeared at her mouth, an echo of that at Spike's.  The vampire's arm was slung low around Willow's waist.

Buffy's eyes narrowed.  "Are those leaves in your hair?"

Anya's eyes peeled open all the way, looking at the couple.  "I'd always heard that sex between mind-bonded pairs was awesome."  She licked at her lips, her eyes inquisitive.  "Just imagine--"

Angel had sprung to his feet, his hands fisted at his sides.  Only Willow's evident ease kept him from springing forward and delivering a blow to Spike's smug face.  'She looks as if she's been thoroughly fucked and enjoyed every second of it,' Angel thought.  "You bit her," Angel ground out.  His eyes widened slightly as he realized that it was his childe's blood which stained her lips.

"Bit?" Buffy gasped.  "You can't bite.  The chip--"

"Gone," Willow said, her voice dreamy.  "Goddess, what a rush."  Her legs buckled, and Willow giggled as Spike slung her into his arms.  She leaned up towards Spike, speaking in a stage whisper.  "Wanna do it again?"

Anya nodded knowingly.  "Told you the sex was incredible."

...~*~...

PART 5

Riley, Anya and Faith had left the room, leaving the original Gang alone to face Willow and Spike.  The red head was seated in Spike's lap, rocking against his slightly.  Spike's hands were wandering across Willow's torso as he nibbled at her neck with blunt teeth.  Willow's delighted shriek laughter informed them all every time the vampire hit a sensitive spot.

"What's _wrong_ with them?" Buffy demanded.  This giggling, squirming woman was not the Willow she knew.

Giles sighed slightly, having already identified their current state from past experience.  "Magic high," he said shortly.  "Willow!" Giles called out sharply as the young woman began to twist on Spike's lap, slim fingers stubbornly plucking at the buttons to his jeans.  She turned to regard the Watcher reluctantly.  'Along with quite a headache tomorrow, the girl will probably be too embarrassed to show her face for a week.'  He cleared his throat.  "Why don't you tell us exactly what happened tonight?"

"That's kinda personal, dontcha think?" Willow replied.

Xander groaned dejectedly, dropping his head into his waiting hands. "Oh, God.  This is just way too weird," he muttered.  "I think he was talking about Spike with a bite," Xander informed his oldest friend.

Willow's eyebrows drew together thoughtfully.  "Your boyfriend is a _very_ bad man, trying to hurt my Spike," the witch chided Buffy, vigorously shaking her finger at the Slayer.  'My Spike?' Buffy mouthed incredulously as Willow continued.  "Trying to make him all Angel-ish." To looked at Angel, and much to their surprise said "bah," before collapsing back against Spike, giggling.

"What does she mean, 'bah'?" Xander asked the vampire.

Angel scowled at him.  "Nothing."  He turned his attention towards the couple on the couch, once again oblivious to the people around them. "_Willow_!" Angel called out.  She pulled away from Spike's mouth, pouting at the elder vampire.  "You said you used magic on Spike.  What did you do?"

"Cleansing spell," Willow answered.  "Washed away the unnatural chip thingy, and swoosh, and the bite's back."

Spike pulled his lips off Willow's neck.  "Got your answers, shag now," he said, his voice slightly slurred.

Willow pursed her lips.  "I don't think I've ever _shagged_ before," she said thoughtfully.  "I've just had sex.  And I think I was supposed to have," she lifted her fingers into air quotes, "made love before."

Xander groaned again. "Somebody make her be quite, _please_.  There are some things even best friends should be spared."

Spike glowered at the young man.  "If Red wants to talk, she will," he growled.

"Don't wanna talk.  Shag me, Spikey," Willow cooed.  They nearly fell as Spike rose to his feet, Willow's arms wound tightly around his neck. She was scattering tiny kisses against his neck and chin, scrambling upwards towards his mouth.  Her legs were slung over Spike's arms, her shoeless feet cheerfully swaying back and forth.

"No!  No sex," Buffy ground out.  "Not until I get some answers."

Willow glared at her.  "That's not what you say to Riley," she protested.  "'Sides, not having sex.  _Shagging_."

Giles wearily rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  "I suppose we shouldn't be surprised by this," he informed them.  "Although we are still uncertain as to why the bond was formed, in every case in which people share one, ah... intimacy is inevitable between the pair.  They are all ready mind mated..."

"And you didn't inform us of this?" Buffy gasped, rounding on her Watcher.  "You didn't even make a peep when the two of them moved in together!"

Angel waved Buffy into silence.  "That isn't the point, Buffy.  Willow and Spike are _mated_."

"What's the big?" she asked irritably.

The vampire shook his head, watching the couple through narrowed, considering eyes.  "That means everything, Buffy."

...~*~...

Spike woke to a dull headache, barely noticeable beneath the pleasure still coursing through his body.  Willow was curled at his side, a warm presence seeking comfort against his own cold form.  Her small hand rested possessively over his still heart.  Contentment thrummed between them on their link.

'Inevitable,' Giles' voice rang through Spike's sleep fogged mind.  The thought sent a surge of restlessness through the vampire.  His contentment shattered, and Willow whimpered at his side, pressing tighter against him in her sleep.  '_Inevitable_' Spike repeated silently.  Man and demon alike rebelled at the thought.  The sense of being caged, shackled to the woman at his side against his will resurfaced after months of laying dormant.

He extricated himself from Willow's grip, his lips compressing at the woman's protesting murmur.  She slid onto her stomach, one arm flung out across the bed where he had been laying.  He soundlessly sought out his clothes, littered across the floor, intermingled with Willow's.  Spike dressed quickly, his mind shrinking back from the bond stretching between he and Willow.

Cocking his head, Spike listened for the sounds of heartbeats other than Willow's.  Six muffled heartbeats could be heard, each of them focused on the ground floor.  'Probably all waiting for the opportunity to rant and shriek at us again,' Spike thought sourly.

He paused at the door, his hand resting against the knob.  Spike looked at Willow over his shoulder.  She was sprawled out on the mattress, the sheets riding low on her hips and leaving a milky expanse of her back exposed.  Her head had shifted as he dressed, and she now lay so that her head faced him.  Her peaceful expression had been replaced by one of agitation, thick lashes trembling against her cheeks.  'Beautiful. Mine.'

'_Inevitable_,' the word tore through Spike's mind.  He turned away from her, stepping out of the door.  The car was parked close by, positioned so that Spike could reach it easily even during daytime.  If he moved quickly, he would be able to reach it before anyone even realized he was up. He'd be gone before anyone missed him.

...~*~...

She knew that he was gone before she opened her eyes.  Though the bond was as strong as ever, Willow could _feel_ the distance rapidly increasing between them like a physical blow.  Her pillow was wet with tears she had shed at his departure, even in her sleep.  ~_Spike_!~

/confusion /need /denial /anger/ flashed back at her before the link quieted.  Willow fought free of the sheets twisting around her legs. She bypassed the clothes decorated the floor, pulling out fresh underwear, jeans and shirt from the bureau across from the bed.  Her hands shook violently as she dressed.

~Talk to me, Spike!  Tell me what's going on in that thick head of yours... Don't leave me, _please_,~ her voice cracked, frantic.

For a long moment, she feared that the vampire would not answer. ~Inevitable,~ his voice whispered across her mind before Spike slipped out of her thoughts once more.

~What do you mean?  Why are you running away from me?~  Willow let out a low, frustrated shriek as the link remained still.  She swirled, letting out a choked cry as her clenched fist impacted with the wall.

"Damn you, Spike.  Don't you dare do this to me," Willow hissed around the sob burning at her throat.  She cradled her aching hand against her body, her chest so tight that she could barely breath, and allowed herself to sink to the bedroom floor as the link stretched further between them.
 

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