Anything
AUTHOR: Northlight
E-MAIL: uzenet@videotron.ca
Date: May 6, 14, 1999


"God, talk about prioritizing!" Cordelia said as she pulled the large volume from Willow's hands. "Shouldn't you be thinking about screwing Spike silly _after_ we get rid of his nutty ex?" she asked, idly flipping through the yellowed pages as she settled down next to Willow on the witch's bed.

"It's... research," Willow said defensively, staring down at the empty finger Spike's ring had once adorned. She'd gone back for it, hours after throwing into the darkness at his retreating back. The sun had just begun to climb over the horizon, sunlight pouring onto the walkway where the tension between them had finally burst into the open. The ring hadn't been there.

The loss of the plain black band that had adorned her finger for so very long had sent a shiver of dread through Willow. It had seemed to prophesize the direction in which things were going between her and Spike. Together one moment, a fit of anger, and the next... gone.

"For what exactly?" Cordelia said, pointedly glancing at the cover. "The Mating Habits of Demons, hmm?" The book snapped shut, and Cordelia twisted around on the bed, drawing her legs up underneath her. "Talk, Willow. Moping generates wrinkles, and you've been doing so much of it recently that you'll be ready for a face lift by the time you reach thirty."

"He's angry. _Big_ angry. So angry that he's barely talked to me for the past two weeks," Willow said softly, squeezing Sir William the Bear to her. She propped her chin on the stuffed toy's head and regarded Cordelia through painfully worried eyes.

Pale pink nails drummed against the thick cover of the book settled between the two girls. "So what exactly were you planning on _doing_ with this research, then?" Cordelia asked, on thin eyebrow arching upwards.

Willow flushed. "That's not the issue here, Cordelia!"

Cordelia shrugged. "You have the book, you've been reading the book, you obviously have _something_ going on." Embarrassment and defiance danced across Willow's pale face, and Cordelia snorted. "You're going to try to use sex to make everything all better between you two?"

"No!" Willow exclaimed. 'It sounds so much worse when you actually _say_ it...' She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, chewing at her lower lip nervously. "Maybe... I mean... maybe," she sighed.

It was Cordelia's turn to sigh. "Willow, I can't tell you what to do..."

"But?"

"I think that is an incredibly _stupid_ thing to do!" Cordelia reached out to catch Willow's hands, her eyes latching onto Willow's. "You shouldn't waste your first time like this! If Spike cares, he'll stay. If not, the sex won't change anything, anyway."

Willow blinked back her tears, pulling her hands out of Cordelia's and burying them in the stuffed bear's fur. "There's nothing else that I can do! I can't help Drusilla, and even if I could..." she shook her head irritably. "And there's nothing that I can say to Spike to make him feel better. I just..."

"Would you want Spike to stay, just because you slept with him?" Cordelia asked, watching Willow through narrowed eyes. She liked the girl, but Willow really did have some problems when it came to clear thinking about love. That left Cordelia in the unenviable position of trying to talk some sense back into the girl before she ended up doing something that she would regret.

"No!" Willow exclaimed. "Of course not!"

"Then what's the point?" Cordelia asked.

"The point?" Willow repeated. "I just want him to know." Her shoulders slumped, "... that some silly little _nobody_ loves him," she ended on a soft whisper. Her head dropped down, resting against the top of the bear's head.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, even as she fought down a pang of guilt. It was times like these that she really regretted all the years that she'd spent attempting to stomp Willow's self-image down to nil. "Maybe you should try telling him," Cordelia suggested in her best 'I know what I'm talking about. You're a fool if you don't listen to me' voice.

"Tell him?!" Willow echoed incredulously. "He'd laugh me right out."

"You're brave enough to strip down in front of Spike and try to seduce him, but not mumble three tiny little words?"

Willow's voice was tiny when she finally spoke again. "That about covers it."


The warm sun shinning overhead did little to soothe Willow's nerves as she approached the warehouse where Spike spent his days. She hoped that coming to him so early wouldn't annoy him - but with Drusilla back, Willow was far from foolish enough to risk going out at night alone. And there was no way that she was about to ask Buffy to escort her while she went to spill out her heart to Spike. Besides, the sun gave her a convenient escape route should things go horribly embarrassing.

She slipped through one of the unlocked doors, nervously wiping her hands against jean clad thighs as her eyes darted around the darkened interior. "Spike?" she choked. She drew in a deep breath. "Spike?" Willow called out, louder, her voice almost steady.

He wasn't answering. Willow's heart constricted painfully, and she bit down on her lip to hold back the aggravated scream that was begging to be let loose. 'He could at lest have the decency to chase me away if he doesn't want to see me!'

"What do you want, Willow," Spike slurred, the unexpected sound of his voice reverberating through the room making the girl jump. She swirled around to find Spike casually leaning against the door she'd come in through, an almost empty bottle of liquor dangling limply from his hand.

'Okay... I'm thinking that talking to an upset, drunk Spike isn't the way I want to do this. Goddess, help me!' She reached towards her hair, and finding it already tucked behind her ears, patted at it uncertainly. "Hi..." she offered a wavering smile. It died quickly when met with his scowl.

"And I'll be leaving around now," Willow stated, her courage dissipating in the cold eyed stare Spike was directing towards her. She inched forward, stopping her cautious advance when she realized the vampire wasn't about to move out of her way.

Spike took a swig from the bottle, draining it, before letting it drop to the ground. One eyebrow arched upwards inquisitively. "Really, luv? Who says I'm going to let you?" He stalked forward, and Willow yelped.

'No worries. This is Spike, friend Spike... angry, drunk, not so friendly Spike. Eep!' Willow straightened her shoulders and met Spike square in the eye. 'Stop thinking, and stop talking! _Act_ for once in your life!' She was crossing the distance between them before her frantically protesting brain could freeze her to the spot.

Her arms wound around his neck, and Willow rose to her toes. Her mouth pressed against his, hard and desperate.

~End~
 

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