Looking for Love in all the Wrong Places
Author: Northlight
email: uzenet@videotron.ca
Summary: Short, silly-ish and plotless. Willow realizes why all her previous relationships have ended in failure.
Distribution: You want? Brave soul! Go ahead, but ask first :) Also at "http://members.spree.com/sip1/northlight12"
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns these characters.
Date: May 30, June 10, 2000
 
 
 
 

Willow Rosenberg was standing at the entrance to Spike's crypt. Her sweater was pale yellow, the soft material clinging to her body. Her dark blue skirt hung loose around her slim legs, the toes of her tennis shoes peeking out from beneath its hem. Had it not been for her eyes, Willow could easily have been pegged as looking sweet.

Her eyes, on the other hand, were determined. Hungry. Downright predatory. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a smile, and Spike bit the inside of his lower lip, fighting back a small groan. There was room enough in the crypt to easily fit two people, but Willow managed to brush her body against the vampire's as she moved towards his makeshift bed.

She beckoned for Spike to approach her. Spike closed his eyes against the sight of her seated amongst his rumpled bedding, rapidly counting down from ten before looking at her again. Her hands reached for his face, and Spike met her reaching hands with a slight kiss to her palm before her could stop himself. Willow smiled at him brilliantly. Her hands settled on his shoulders, flexing appreciatively against the bare flesh. She licked at her lips, watching for his reaction from beneath a thick fan of lowered lashes.

"What are you doing here, pet?"

"None of that now, Spike. You're so _tense_." She pulled at him, drawing the vampire back onto the bedding next to her. Small hands pressed him downwards, urging him to lay down on his stomach. Spike complied without a word of protest, although she managed to startle a grunt out of him when she flung one leg over his hip.

"I've been thinking..." Willow began, her nails lightly scraping against Spike's back. "And I think I've finally figured out the problem. I keep on falling for people who seem..." she paused thoughtfully. Spike nearly jumped when the witch bent down, lightly nipping at his shoulder. "Sweet." She wriggled above him, settling herself more comfortably astride his prone body. "_Seem_ being the operative word."

"The thing is, I keep on getting suckered in, and end up getting burned when I find out that _sweet_ doesn't go very far. I figure that I need someone who I _know_ is a right wicked bastard so that I won't be surprised when he does something hurtful."

"Sounds... sensible," Spike managed.

Willow nodded happily. "I thought you'd understand. But that isn't quite it yet. Because I think I've figured out just the heartless bastard I want."

"Yes?"

"I wasn't sure if he'd try to resist me, though. Because bad assed he may be, but he also has a healthy survival instinct." He could hear the pout in her voice when she spoke next. "Sometimes, being the Slayer's best friend just sucks."

"So what did you decide to do, luv?"

"You know, men are such silly creatures -- half the time, they really don't know what's best for them. So, I decided to make things simpler for him by just not giving him a choice. Do you think that would work, Spike?"

"It might. What are you planning on doing?"

"I'm going to seduce him. I'm going to all the naughty things that Oz and Tara never thought I wanted to do or could handle, or even knew about. I'm going to make him want me so badly that he won't be able to so much as think about me without getting hard."

"The plan has potential."

"Good."

"I don't suppose you happen to have any chains lying around in here, would you Spike?"

~end~

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