~Part 1~

Willow shifted restlessly, eyeing the milling crowd around her. She sipped at her beer, resisting the urge to toss it back and order another.  [Got to keep up appearances after all, everybody loves Happy Willow, nobody loves Drowning Her Sorrows Willow].  Smiling with an effort at Buffy as she continued to ramble on, about what Willow was not sure due to the loud music, Willow made an effort to throw off her black mood - with little success.

She was having one of those days - or was it one of those weeks?  She and Tara had been bickering for days; afterwards she could never remember exactly what it was they fought about, but the bad feeling was simmering there and waiting to explode at even the smallest opportunity -  a forgotten phone message, a wet towel on the floor, any excuse was enough for Tara.  [Never trust the quiet ones] Willow brooded, trying to work out when it was that their relationship had deteriorated to this point.

As she did the mental maths, she found a thought hovering on the edge of her subconscious, something about Buffy and a conversation about
Spike's crush ... Her mind recoiled from the thought, and she tuned back in to the conversation in time to hear Xander remark "Somehow, I don't think a girl that looks like that is gonna be lonely for too long."

Looking around, Willow noticed the girl surveying the room, and almost missed Tara's comment: "Definitely not!"  Willow did a double take - what had Tara just said?  But before she had time to replay the conversation in her mind, her girlfriend added wistfully, "She's so beautiful, like a model.  You know Anya and I met her this afternoon," Tara commented, before noticing the hostile look in Willow's eyes and stopping abruptly.

Willow gathered her thoughts and tried to control her temper. [Can't go berserk here, too many witnesses] she decided, but as she weighed up the pros and cons of getting Tara alone somewhere she realised the blonde had done a vanishing act, and at the same time decided she was relieved.  She really didn't want to waste any more emotional energy on her; Willow could see the writing on the wall, and even though in the past she had always been the dumped rather than the dumper, she was determined to end this once and for all, and sooner rather than later.

She had a vague sense of urgency, of needing to do something before - well, before it was too late.  [Too late for what?] asked a small voice in her head, but Willow ignored it.  She had the moral high ground here; Tara was not only becoming a pain to live with but now she was checking out other girls; [if I wanted someone to do that I'd go out with a boy!] the witch groused to herself.

Her mental murmuring were abruptly halted by the sound of glass breaking, and she looked up to see a bewildered Spike brushing himself down, apparently having been tossed through a glass window.

"Spike! she squeaked, before trying to mask her concern.  Xander and Anya looked vaguely amused, and Willow felt anger surge through her at their nonchalance.  [OK, evil demon, but heh, he's saved our asses plenty of times.  Maybe for money, but that still counts as a good deed - doesn't it?]  Willow started to walk towards Spike, but was halted by a hand on her arm.  Looking up at Xander's face, she groaned inwardly when he commented, "Look's like it's time for a research party!"

"Don't you think we should check if Spike's OK?"

"From the sound of all that swearing I'd say he's fine and dandy," Xander commented cheerfully before dragging a reluctant Willow away to follow Anya and Buffy as they headed for the door.  He paused to ask, "Hey, where's Tara?  Do you want to call her?"

"No," said Willow quickly, "she had a headache, let's not bother her."

And so the meeting convened, and without dissent it was agreed that the beautiful and super-strong April, she of the strange speech patterns and Warren-obsession, was clearly a robot.  Willow listened to the conversation with half an ear while her internal musings continued.

[Obsessions.  Huh, what's with that?  Why is everyone always obsessed with Buffy?  First Angel, then Xander, then Spike - OK she's beautiful.  And strong.  And Buffy.  Sigh.  What's the point?  Spike would never look at me, even if I weren't a lesbian.  Well, not really a lesbian.Bisexual.  Cos of Oz.  And open-minded, cos of the werewolf thing. And the Wicca thing.]  Willow realised she had wandered somewhat off topic at the same time that she realised all eyes were on her.  "Um, yes?" she asked nervously, hoping she would be able to bluff her way through it.  [How much did I miss?] she wondered nervously.

"Excellent," said Giles as everyone started to pack up.  "Then Willow will try to track down the creator, Warren, and the rest of you will keep your ears open for any news.  Willow, please let Buffy know as soon as you have any information."

"Oh, sure, no problem," Willow agreed heartily as she grabbed all her things and headed for he door.

[Time to face the music] she decided nervously, then started to head slowly back to her place, knowing that Tara would be there, waiting for Willow so they could have -another - argument.  But this one, the redhead decided with her resolve face evident, would be the last.
 

~Part 2~

Willow surveyed her room with satisfaction.  Everything had been packed away, her laptop was on her old desk, and the room seemde unchanged from her childhood years. [Home sweet home] she thought sadly, sitting down on her bed and bouncing slightly.  It was so quiet here after the dorm, no-one around but her ... [great, keep that up and I'll be round at Giles house soon just to see a friendly face.]

Making a determined effort to cheer up, the redhead reminded herself that, all things considered, she had got off much more lightly than she had
expected.  Having braced herself for a huge confrontation, she had been somewhat deflated to find her and Tara instead having a very civilized
discussion which, although lasting over an hour, could be best summarized as "this isn't working, let's still be friends."

Willow was ashamed to find that her dominant emotion was relief.  [Bad Willow, at least you should be a bit upset], she told herself as she turned
her laptop on, connected to the internet and started to look for Warren, April's maker.  As she scanned various lists and jumped from site to site,
she kept only half her mind on her work.

The other half was reliving this evening's flying Spike episode, and she couldn't help wondering how the vampire was.  [Typical] she fumed, [when we need him we drag him along, but when he needs some help, huh, no-one is the slightest bit interested.  Only notice him when he's useful.]

A sentiment quiet close to Willow's heart, because the more she thought about it the more she identified with Spike.  [OK, I'm not a soulless killer, but the others only notice me when they want something.  I mean, they don't even know about Tara and I breaking up.  Well, OK, that only
happened half an hour ago.  But hey, I've moved back to my parent's house, I could use some emotional support.  Maybe I should call Buffy?]

Her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance on her screen of an article on robotics written by a local boy - Warren.  [I am just too good] Willow decided with a big grin, before her face sobered and she wondered, [I wonder how Spike is?].

And so it was that, instead of calling Buffy with Warren's whereabouts as instructed, Willow instead found herself skulking through one of  Sunnydale's many cemeteries on her way to Spike's crypt.  [I can't believe I'm doing this] the redhead moaned to herself for the hundredth time as she stopped outside the crypt door.  [I hope he still lives here.  Well, not lives, obviously, but ... oh Goddess Rosenberg, just go inside!]

Spike looked up as the crypt door edged open.  It was a new experience for him - mostly it was either kicked in or flung open.

"Who the hell is it and what the hell do you want?" the blonde snarled.  His ribs ached, and he was seething over the embarrassment of being thrown through a window in front of Buffy - not quite the impression he was hoping to make.

His eyebrows raised when he saw the witch slink inside looking decidedly uneasy.  [At least I still scare her]  he thought happily, his ego recovering a little from the bruising it had received in recent months.

"Umm, hi Spike, I just wanted to make sure you were OK."

When Spike looked at her blankly, Willow felt compelled to continue.  "Well, with the, uh, the incident at the party, you know, with the robot?"

"She was a robot?" Spike said in a relieved tone.

"Yep, you sure can pick 'em."

"What's that supposed to mean," Spike growled.  Damn, even Willow was getting in shots at him, and she was the only one of that bunch of idiots
who was even passably nice to him.

"Well, let's face it Spike, you don't exactly make the best choices, do you? I mean, lunatics, Slayers, robots - even Xander has better judgment than you, which is really saying something."

"Listen witch girl, first of all I am not the slightest bit interested in your opinion, and secondly you absolutely wrong.  Dead wrong.  I've just been a bit unlucky, is all."

"Unlucky, is that what you call it?" Willow asked, as she sat down on the floor next to the vampire.  She absently opened the brown paper bag she was carrying and handed Spike the bottle of whisky she had bought with her - liberated from her father's collection, but hopefully he'd never notice.

She figured the alcohol would come in handy one way or another.  Either she could use it to sterilize his wounds [mmm, naked Spike covered in sticky liquid..]  Willow shook her head, and realized Spike was waiting for her to speak as he quickly opened the bottle and took a long drink.

"Unlucky?  Come on Spike, it's more like a death wish, don't you think.  I mean, Buffy.  Goddess!  Why is it always about Buffy!  What's so special
about her?"  Her face fixed in a scowl, Willow reached for the bottle and wrested it from Spike's unwilling hands, taking a mouthful before handing it
back.

"Well, she's a fighter."

"Yeah, she fights vampires.  As in, you and all your kind.  That's going to be a great common bond between you."

"OK, she's got a great body."

"Perky, sure, but she has muscles of steel.  Get too close to her and it would be like hugging Arnold Schwarzenegger."

Spike paled - not an easy thing for a vampire to do.  "Ahhh," he searched his mind for one of Buffy's other attributes, "She's beautiful".

"Right, and guys so love waiting an hour and a half for her to perfect that natural look."

"She's smart."

Willow just looked at him.

"Well, bloody hell, I don't know, there's just something about her ..."

"Vampires!  I can't believe you're going all Angel over her."

"Sod off, I'm nothing like that bleeding poof."

"Right."

"I'm not."

Willow sighed and reached for the bottle again, taking a longer drink as she noticed that the contents seemed to have evaporated alarmingly while in Spike's care.

"Goddess Spike, it's so obvious.  You just want her cos she's unattainable, because you know you're never going to get her so it's a way of making
yourself pointlessly unhappy."

Spike struggled to follow her logic.  "That doesn't make any sense.  I don't want to be unhappy."

"Sure you do.  That's why you wasted a century with a faithless loony like Dru, and why you're wasting your time drooling over Angel's leavings."

"Shit, that's disgusting" Spike moaned as his mind filled with the mental image Willow had painted for him.

"My point exactly," Willow agreed.

"What do you care anyway?" Spike asked suspiciously, looking at the girl and wondering for the first time what the hell she was doing here.

"Just broke up with Tara.  Can't understand why no-one loves me.  It's horrible being alone,"  Willow said sadly, making Spike's palms itch with the urge to slap her.

"If you're going to start crying do it outside, I don't want to drown in your self pity," Spike sneered.  To his disappointment Willow seemed oblivious to him.

"Anyway, I have a job for you," Willow declared, standing up and brushing the dirt from her trousers.

Spike looked unimpressed.

"I can pay you," Willow said, mentally calculating how much money she had in her wallet.

"Alright, what is it?" Spike asked, draining the bottle and patting his pockets in search of a cigarette.

"We have to go and see Warren, the guy who built April."

Spike looked blank.  Willow snorted {How soon they forget!] "You know, the beautiful robot who through you out a window?"

Spike's eyes cleared.  A man who could make a robot like that, now he would be the kind of person Spike would definitely like to see.

"Come on then pet, times a wasting."

And with long strides Spike swept from the crypt leaving Willow trailing after him wondering what the hell she was doing, while at the same time
admiring the way his leather duster swirled around him.  [Focus Rosenberg, go to get the robot guy] she told herself, but she couldn't quit help the
way her eyes drifted to the lithe form in front of her.

[It's just a rebound thing] she assured herself, but still she made sure she took the long way to Warren's house.  When they finally arrived Spike looked over at Willow, indicating that she should take the lead.  Setting her resolve face in place, Willow knocked firmly on the door.  After a few
attempts, she finally heard sounds and eventually the door was opened by a tousled looking man, who looked in alarm at the pair on his doorstep.

"What do you want?" he asked nervously.

"We're friends of April," Willow said in her most menacing voice.

Warren shuddered and looked over their shoulders, as if expecting his robotic nightmare to appear out of the gloom.

"You'd better come in."

Willow smiled.  "Don't mind if we do," she said sweetly, as she and Spike entered the house.
 

~Part 3~

Spike drummed his fingers on the table as Willow and the robot guy droned on and on.  [Bloody humans, the way they go on you'd think they were the immortal ones,] Spike decided, as he stood up and moved over to where Warren was showing the redhead his digital camera, used to create 3D images as a blueprint for his robots.

"So you just need a few shots with this and you can do the rest with your software?" Willow asked curiously as she took a few sample photos of Warren and Spike, and watched as the images appeared on the computer screen.

"That's right, but hey, definitely no more robots for me, I have learnt my lesson," Warren said fervently.

"Good-o, I'll be off then," Spike said as he gestured towards Willow's wallet.

The redhead looked at him blankly before shaking her head suddenly, reaching for her wallet and pulling out a few notes.  She handed them to the vampire, who grabbed them, growled softly at the pathetic amount in his hand then decided there was no point in arguing, instead making a hasty exit.

"I guess you'll be off too then," Warren said hopefully, looking at the redhead who was still playing with the camera, taking a shot of Spike's
departing figure.

"Not just yet.  I'm really interested in your work, I'm thinking I'd like to have one for myself, a robot I mean, so I can study it close up."

Warren rubbed his hands against the sides of his jeans as he tried to work out where this was going.  "No, no, I'm not making any more girl robots, I
promise."

Willow smiled.  "Actually, I'm not really interested in a girl robot."

**********

"Yes, I'm sure Giles," Willow said for what felt like the hundredth time. She adjusted the phone - she had been talking for so long her ear was
starting to over-heat.

Willow had returned from her trip to Warren's house two nights ago.  In the meantime the robot April had been located and taken out of commission, and Willow was now discussing with Giles what she had found on Warren's computers, which she had confiscated from him and had studied at length.

"These computers have all the programs on them, and I have checked Warren's house, there are definitely no other computers there.  And he seemed very definite to me that he had learned his lesson."

The redhead listened idly as Giles continued to express his concern, but she felt no urge to end the conversation, instead letting the Watcher ramble on until he came to a stop, apparently finally realising he was repeating himself.

"I can't guarantee that no-one else has the software Giles, but Warren assured me he hadn't given copies to anyone, and that April was his only
functioning robot, and I beleived him.  Anyway those programs are complex, not many people could operate them.  So I think it's pretty safe."

Apparently satisfied with that, Giles agreed that it would not be necessary for the Slayer to pay Warren a personal visit, and finally hung up.

[That would have been a pretty long-distance visit for Buffy to make, considering Warren is in Tokyo now,] Willow mused.  She had cut a deal with
Warren; he had surrendered all his material to her without a fuss, and Willow had given him most of the money in her emergency bank account - oh,
and there was also that little matter of the robot.

Willow felt herself tense as she thought about what she had done - [it's official, Willow Rosenberg has lost it] she decided, but before she could
descend into panic she felt a pair of strong hands settle on either side of her neck, thumbs gently probing at the taut muscles before digging in with
just the right amount of pressure and kneading out the knots as Willow felt her muscles turn into honey.

"That feels so good," she moaned, shifting under his hands.

"Don't like to see you all tensed up, pet," came the reply, as the hands started to move down her back, rubbing in long strokes as Willow leaned
forward to allow him better access.

"Everything alright with the Watcher?"

"Yes, he believes the whole story, he's not going to get Buffy involved, so there's no way he can find out about you."

"So why so tense, eh?" asked the voice.

"I just don't know why I did it.  I must be crazy!"

"Or a fool for love," came the gentle reply, as Willow finally looked around into the friendly, smiling face of Spike - or rather, the new, all-improved
Spike, Willow's very own SpikeBot.
 

~Part 4~

Willow rubbed furiously at her skin, her actions ruining the supposedly relaxing effects of the bubble bath that Spike had insisted she take while he cooked her dinner.  [Cooking me dinner!]  The witch was well aware that things had gone horribly wrong, but somehow - she couldn't put her finger on exactly how.  [Gee, maybe getting a robot boyfriend in the first place?  How desperate am I?]  But even as she posed the question she couldn't really bring herself to regret her actions; she now had a Spike of her very own, one who hated Slayers and star-crazed brunette vampires, one who loved just her.

[Right, cos he's programmed to.] [Shut up!] Willow firmly told her mental voice.  She had only had her new [toy] friend for a few hours, Warren having arranged for him to be delivered once he was safely in Tokyo, and Willow decided she just needed some time to get used to this new situation.

[Just think, a happy, safe, non-threatening Spike,] she mused.  [Why not just seduce Xander if you want a sap?] her niggling mental voice asked.
Willow frowned, but her thoughts were interrupted by a brisk knock on the door, as Spike entered to declare "Dinner's ready, pet.  Let's get you dried up."

And the redhead could hardly find it in her to argue as he grabbed a fluffy towel and held it out for her, wrapping it around her as he helped her out
of the tub.  Spike's hands patted her through the soft towel until he was satisfied that she was dry, and he grinned when she tried to resist his
hands as he pulled the towel from her.

"Now don't be shy pet," he said as he held her wriggling form firm in his embrace.  Willow felt a moment of horror [oh no, I mean, a robot!] but
looking into those blue, blue eyes, she felt her resistance melting, and she told herself, [oh well, what can it hurt?].

So Willow meekly allowed Spike to place her robe around her, and lead her downstairs to the carefully laid table and wonderfully smelling dinner he
had prepared.

But even as she sat across the table from him, chewing the food which he had cooked, she couldn't relax.  It was just ... wrong.  It wasn't exactly the robot thing that was the problem, although that was a major weirdness factor.  It was more - well, this Spike just wasn't .... Spike-y enough.
[Cos, I can really imagine Spike cooking me dinner and pouring me wine,] she mused bitterly.  [Bet he'd do it for Buffy] [Hey, didn't I tell you to shut
up?] Willow asked her annoying thoughts, and to punish them she leaned across the table and took Spike's hand.  Well, OK, it was cool, but for a
vampire that was normal.  And it didn't feel like plastic...[Stop it!]

"I've had enough to eat," Willow declared firmly, drawing a worried frown from Spike.

"But you've hardly eaten anything, didn't you like it?" he asked sadly. [Bit too much of that Aprilbot programming there, Warren,] Willow decided,
but she had made a decision and she was determined not to get distracted by the small stuff.

"It was absolutely fine, wonderful, delicious, you know, but maybe we could, ah, go upstairs?"

"For sex!" said Spike with a relieved smile.

[Great, now he reminds me of Anya,] decided the redhead as she struggled to maintain the mood.  [Look at that face, those cheekbones, his hands ... OK, mood is back!]

"Maybe it would be better if you didn't talk much?" Willow suggested helpfully.

Spike nodded his agreement and mimed zipping his mouth shut, and Willow sighed, deciding she was going to have to stop being so picky [I mean, it's a walking vibrator, it's doing the best it can.]

So she took the bull by the horns - so to speak - and leant forward to brush her mouth against Spike's.  He leaned forward as she drew slightly back, keeping their mouths in contact, and Willow couldn't help a little shiver as his tongue started to trace the outline of her mouth, slowly coaxing her lips open and moving inside to play with her tongue.

[Now this is more like it!] she decided, as she disengaged momentarily, got out of her seat and moved around to Spike, sitting on his lap and locking
their mouths together once more.  Spike slowly moved his mouth away from hers to lick at her neck, drawing an appreciative groan from Willow.  She had had this fantasy so many times, Spike holding her and running his lips up and down her throat, then vamping out and biting her, placing his mark on her for everyone to see.  In her dreams, of course, Spike had realised he loved her, and wanted her not Buffy - or anyone else, for that matter.

Willow let her fantasy fill her mind, and as Spike's hand moved to caress her breast through her shirt, and his mouth remained sucking lightly on her
neck, she murmured, "Spike, Spike, bite me, please!"

Spike drew back quickly, his face showing concern.  "Willow, I would never hurt you," he said mournfully, as though horrified that she would ever
suspect him of such an act.

Willow froze.  [Well, now the mood is really ruined!]  She got off Spike's lap, looking at him, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now.
[Maybe I can FedEx him back to Warren?]

"I don't think this is really going to work out," she began slowly, wondering if there was a specific etiquette for breaking up with your robotic sex toy.

"I did something wrong, didn't I?" said Spike, looking upset.  "I can fix it!  If you tell me, I can adjust my programming, please just tell me what I did wrong."

"You're just not, not Spike!"  Willow wailed, not knowing how she could express it any better than that.  "Look, I need some time to think about what I'm going to do, I'm going upstairs and I don't want to be disturbed, OK?"

"Sure pet," said Spike as he watched his mistress run up the stairs.  He frowned, wondering what had gone wrong.  He had followed all of his
programming requirements.  [What did she mean, I'm not Spike?  How can I become Spike if I'm not him already?]  Clearly this was the key to pleasing his mistress.  Relieved to have solved the problem, Spike quickly cleared the table and washed the dishes, before heading out into the night to find out how he could be more Spike, and thus please his mistress.
 

~Part 5~

As he walked through the night, Spikebot reviewed the events of the evening and came up with two theories.  Willow had said he was "not Spike".  Clearly there was a flaw in either his appearance or his personality, which was upsetting his mistress.  Preventing Willow from being upset was the
over-riding priority for Spike, so he was determined to find the source of the problem and fix it.

He had in his memory the original images taken of real Spike with the digital camera, and he scanned these and found no noticeable variation
between them and his appearance.  His clothing was identical to that worn by the vampire in the pictures, so that couldn't be the problem.  Spike was a vampire, so the lack of body heat should not be an issue.  His memory files indicated that real vampires could change their face into an alternate shape, that of a demon.  Perhaps this was the trouble, that Willow wanted him to be able to change his face?  This was not an insurmountable problem, and as he walked Spike considered ways of having an alternate face designed and made, which he could wear when it pleased his mistress.

His calculations halted as he approached a figure standing still on the path in front of him, looking at him nervously.  His internal files identified her as Tara, Willow's former girlfriend, and his behavioural response indicator suggested some minor level of aggression or antagonism would be appropriate.

"What do you want?" asked Spike, intending to be vaguely menacing but actually sounding more sulky.

"N-n-n-nothing.  I'm going over to see Willow."  Tara shifted nervously, torn between barely controlled terror at being alone with Spike and curiosity over why the vampire was coming from the direction of Willow's house.

"What are you going to see her for?" asked Spike.

"I just wanted to make sure she's, ah, OK," said Tara as she considered the possibilities of edging past the blonde.

"Willow's not your girlfriend anymore, she's mine.  Just leave her alone." And with that Spike produced a very convincing snarl.

Tara blanched, and looked quickly around, as if expecting someone to jump out from behind the bushes and yell - "You're on candid camera!!"

"Um, what?  What did you say?  Because, ah, well, it s-s-sounded like you said that Willow, ummmm," Tara's voice trailed off as her mind tried to
understand what was going on.  Because it sounded like he had said-

"You heard me, witch.  Willow is mine now, and I don't want you hanging around her anymore.  Just leave her alone."

"Ahh."  Tara blinked slowly, looking at Spike carefully.  "Umm, aren't you in love with Buffy?"

"Yes, I was in love with Buffy, but then I realised that Willow is the only creature in the world for me, and now I am having sex with her.  We belong
together."

Tara stood silently absorbing this information, as Spike looked back at her, his face impassive.

"Well," said Tara.  "Huh.  I always thought Willow had kind of a thing for you."

Spike smiled happily.  "Yes, Willow certainly loves me very much.  I cooked her dinner earlier, and she said it was excellent.  And later tonight we
will have sex, which will also be excellent.  But now I have to go.  You are not going to disturb Willow, are you?  She's getting ready for tonight."

Tara backed away from Spike.  "No-o-o, I'm just going to go, ah, go home now."

"Great," said Spike as he turned to leave.

"Are you feeling alright?" Tara asked hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" asked Spike

"Well, it's just that you seem kind of, um, chatty and non-threatening.  Not very Spike-like.  Has Willow been doing any spells?"

"Ahhh," said Spike, smiling as though something had just occurred to him. "I am too nice!"

And with that he strode into the darkness, leaving a very puzzled Tara behind.

As soon as Spike's form had vanished Tara changed direction, racing towards the Magic Box where she knew the others were meeting.  She walked inside, trying to decide what exactly she was going to say.  She was still trying to get it straight in her mind when Buffy looked up from the book she was flicking through, smiling at the witch and saying, "Hey Tara, what's up? Where's Willow?"

Tara's brain froze, and her mouth switched into automatic.  "Willow and I broke up a couple of days ago, and now she's having sex with Spike.  They're in love."

Tara then had the singular experience of seeing Buffy struck speechless, but the instant of silence was broken by the sound of glass breaking.  A visibly shaken Giles walked over, brushing shards of shattered incense burner from his trousers.  "Ah, Tara, sorry, but I thought I just heard you say..."

"Willow is having sex with Spike?  Finally!" said Anya from her seat nearby, tapping at her calculator as she tried to tally the day's takings.

Giles looked at Anya and Tara, as if trying to decide who to question first. But Buffy, recovered from her shock, beat him to it.

"First of all - no way.  No way is Spike having sex with Willow.  Cos first of all he's in love with me.  And second Willow is gay.  And third even if
she wasn't gay she is no way having sex with an evil vampire.  And what do you mean, finally?" asked the Slayer as she turned to Anya, who was paying very little attention to the conversation, her brow creased as she tried to find out why her Amex figures were $25 short.

"It's obvious Willow wants to have sex with him.  She's always watching him when she thinks no-one is watching, and she has been very upset over him having a crush on you, and the other night at the party when he was injured she wanted to go and help him," replied Anya absently as she finally found the missing slip, smiling as she stapled the bundle together and ticked the total.

The other occupants of the room remained silent as they considered her words, all looking shocked, until the silence was broken by the door opening and a man entered.

"Hey guys," said Xander, "what did I miss?"
 

~Part 6~

Spike paused outside the door to the Magic Box, taking an unnecessary breath and trying to recreate the confidence that had always been an integral part of the Big Bad.  It was not enough that he had to live with the frigging chip, oh no.  Not even enough that he had to fall for his mortal enemy, a Slayer, who was still besotted with his poof of a grand-sire.  No, even that didn't make his unlife enough of a penance to please the fates.  Now he had to get thrown through a window by a girl in front of the entire Scooby gang. And OK, she was a robot, but still.  It was the principle of the thing.

He had been laying low since his outing with Willow, thinking over what she had said and finding that he agreed with most of it.  He knew it was
ridiculous, this thing he had for Buffy, but he couldn't seem to shake free of it.  Maybe Willow would be inside; that thought brightened his mood, he
knew she wouldn't let the others make too much fun of him over the robot incident. [Bloody Hell, has it really come to this?  Needing the protection
of a pathetic human so the Slayer doesn't hurt my feelings?]

His irritation with himself and his circumstances rising, Spike turned to leave when he heard his name being yelled from inside.  Intrigued, he walked
up to the door again, letting his vampiric hearing work its wonders as he tuned his attention in to the conversation that was taking place inside.

"I can't do it!  I can't just sit by and be supportive guy while Willow and Spike - oh my God!" moaned a voice that sounded like the moron.

Spike was definitely interested now.  What was the witch up to this time?

"Look, it's reverse psychology," Buffy explained in what even Spike had to admit was an annoying whine.  "She's always going on about how we're not supportive enough, so this time we'll be absolutely supportive, say sure, suck face with the evil undead, you go girl, and then when it all ends in
tears in, like, two days we have the moral high ground and Willow is Spike-less."

"No way!  You are all insane!"  That had to be the moron again.  "Anyway I can't believe Willow would do it. I mean - Spike!"  The vampire in question held down a growl with some difficulty as his mind flashed with images of ripping off the whelp's head, and he winced as the chip sent warning flashes of white-hot pain through his head.  By the time he recovered his equilibrium, the yelling had died down, but the conversation inside
continued.

"Well, while I don't exactly agree with Buffy's logic, I can see no harm in simply allowing this, ah, this thing to run its course.  Spike is chipped so
he can't physically hurt her, and some lessons need to be learned through experience, it appears.  Besides, at least it will keep Spike occupied and
away from Buffy while we try to find a solution to the Glory problem.  And, let's be honest, Spike is a very useful member of the team at times."

That was the voice of the Watcher, which destroyed Spike's first thought, that the Scoobys were whacked out on some kind of drug.  Him and Willow? What was going on?

"So what, we're going to give him Willow?  We're supplying vampire snack food now?!!"  Xander's voice was nudging hysteria, and Spike had heard
enough, so he turned away from the door and started to walk as he tried to make sense of what he had heard.

Why would they think he and Red had a thing going?  It certainly couldn't be anything he had said or done.  Unless they had found out that the pair had been together the other night in his crypt?  It seemed a bit of a stretch from spending half an hour in a conversation to being the witch's new
toyboy.

[Hmmm, the witch.  Seems like maybe another new spell has gone awry, or maybe she's finally sick of that moaning bint of a girlfriend and is making
claims she had no right to make.  Well, I'm always happy to oblige.  If she's interested in getting naked with a vampire - hey, I've slept with
Harmony, I'm not that choosy.  Cute redhead might be just what I need to get those nasty Slayer thoughts out of my head.]

Images of naked redhead moaning his name filled Spike's head, and he adjusted his trousers as he felt his mind and body reach agreement that this
was exactly what was needed to get him back on track.  With a grin that was almost back to the full-powered evil sneer he had sported in his halcyon pre-chip days, Spike headed off with a bounce in his step to find his soon-to-be-playmate.
 
 

~Part 7~

Willow heard the door shut downstairs, and braced herself.  [Come on, it's just a robot.  It's *my* robot.  He was made for me.  This is my chance to find out what it would be like to be with Spike.  OK, he's not really Spike. But he looks like Spike, he sounds like Spike, just get over it and stop
thinking too much.  Carpe Diem!]

And with seduction on her mind the redhead descended the stairs, to find Spike waiting for her in the lounge room, a bulging shopping bag at his
feet.

Willow gave him a nervous smile as she walked over, only to stop in her tracks when she noticed the words on the side of the bag: "Love Slave: toys for your pleasure".

"Ahhh, well, you're here.  I mean, you're back.  From wherever you were," Willow babbled as her eyes caught glimpses of leather and metal peeking out from the top of the bag.

"Yes, I'm back.  You were naughty before, Willow, and now you need to be punished."

Willow's eyes got even wider.  "P-p-punished?"

"Yes," replied Spike with a realistic growl.  "Naughty girls get spanked, don't they Willow?  Next time you'll think twice before being so bad."  As he talked Spike walked closer to Willow.  She slowly backed up until she hit a wall, but Spike kept coming, so that she found herself sandwiched between his hard body and the unyielding wall.

Spike ground his hips into her body, and Willow felt her heart race.  [This is more like it!  And what is that I can feel against my stomach?  I guess
Spikebot is definitely anatomically correct!]

As her mind lurched with images of what was in store for her, Spike forced his hands between her and the wall, dropping them down to first gently cup her arse, then give a hard squeeze to each cheek.  Willow jumped and found herself pressed even closer to the blonde's hard frame.

"Are you ready for your punishment, little girl?" asked a husky voice.

"Uh, uh, mmmm, yes!" said Willow, feeling her face turn bright red at her admission.

Spike gave her a very evil grin, and grabbing the shopping bag he used his free hand to pull her after him into the kitchen.  "We'll start out slowly,"
he purred pulling out a chair and sitting down casually.  He dropped the bag onto the floor next to him, and a riding crop fell out.  Willow's eyes
glazed over, and she nearly missed his next word: "Strip."

Willow faltered, and Spike growled menacingly.  "Strip now or I'll do it for you, and you'll be punished for your disobedience" he ordered, and Willow
meekly began to shed her clothing.

She kept her eyes modestly cast down as she wriggled out of her jeans, but she couldn't help herself from casting tiny sidelong glances at Spike,
taking in his jean clad legs and dusty boots, and wondering at his sudden personality change.  Not that she was complaining, the redhead mused as she peeled her soaking panties from her skin and stood stark naked before the man of her dreams.  She had to admit, what she liked most about Spike was his barely restrained air of violence and mayhem.  And now she could live dangerously - without it being, well, dangerous.

"May I ask you something?" Willow asked hesitantly, having some trouble remembering that this was not really Spike, just a toy.

"You may," came the reply, and Willow steeled herself to make eye contact.

"Well, um, I was just wondering about the new attitude.  I mean, have you changed your programming or something?"

"My programming does not need changing Willow," Spike replied as he gestured for her to come over to him.  As she slowly moved to stand next to him, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her across his lap.

[Wow.  Wow.  He's really strong.  Like vampire strong.  Or robot strong. Robot strong with no chip. Hmmm.] Willow wondered whether she should be
raising the idea of safety words when Spike halted her train of thought by gently slapping her exposed bottom.

Willow felt a jolt through her entire body, the tingling skin on her rear sending little shock waves up her spine, and she was unable to resist the
temptation of trying to rub her itching pussy against his jean clad leg.

"None of that," came the stern warning as the hand whacked her delicate skin twice in quick succession, with considerably more force, drawing a moan from Willow.  She bit her lip to stop herself from wriggling, and was tersely ordered to put her hands behind her head, which she quickly did, forcing her into a new position that had her breasts rubbing against his thighs while her pussy remained maddeningly free of any possibility of friction.

"No, I did not need any reprogramming.  My only goal is to give you what you want," came the silky voice as three more blows rained down on her exposed skin.  "What you need," he murmured, moving his hand to gently stroke her reddened skin, and lightly pinch her upper thigh, drawing a gasp from his captive.

Willow could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, his cool hand continuing to rub her skin.  "Do you like bad boys?"

Did she?  She guessed she must.  She could feel the liquid from her sopping pussy lubricating her thighs, and she couldn't remember ever being this
aroused; not even when waking up after one of her many Spike kidnapping fantasies, which always had a very different ending to her real life
experience with the bleached wonder.

Suddenly she felt his hand slap down hard on her arse, once, twice, again and again, until she could feel the tears starting to run down her face.
She stifled a sob as she was sternly told, "When you are asked a question you will respond.  Do you understand?"

"Yes Spike."

"Good girl," came the reply.  "Anyway, you don't really need to answer.  I can see that you do like it rough," he noted as he slid two fingers into her
pussy, sawing them up and down to test the tightness of her muscles, then forcing in a third finger and plunging in as far as he could, repeating the
movement several times until Willow could resist no longer and with a scream she came, her body quivering all over as he withdrew his fingers and put them in front of her face.

She forced her eyes open as his digits caressed her lips, and he told her, "Lick them."

Willow opened her mouth and sucked his fingers inside, enjoying the taste of her juices as she cleaned him thoroughly with her tongue, before being
ordered to kneel.

She did it quickly, not wanting to anger Spike.  He smiled with approval at her obvious desire to please, telling her, "I am learning new things about
you all the time, little Willow.  I see that you like to be punished, and that is why you need me.  I can be just as bad as you need me to be." And
with that he began to unzip his trousers.

A load crashing sound came from outside, and Willow's heart froze.  [What the hell??]  Spike rose to his feet, rezipping his trousers, and told the
trembling girl, "Stay here."

Willow was only too glad to obey as Spike went out the back door to investigate.
 

~Part 8~

Nervously pacing in the kitchen, Willow looked longingly at her clothes. She wondered if she should put something on - it would ruin the sexy mood a
little, but being naked was only making her more uneasy.

Bad enough that Spike had been gone for at least five minutes - what if it were Buffy outside, or Giles?  Not only would she have to explain why she
had organised to have a Spikebot made, she would also have the dubious pleasure of having the conversation while butt naked.  Reaching for her
shirt she quickly buttoned it as she kept her nervous eyes on the windows. She should probably start to prepare her story: "Why I Made Myself a Life Size Sex Toy by Willow Rosenberg".

Despite the seriousness of the situation Willow felt a hysterical giggle forming on her lips.  [Focus Willow!  If Giles asks what's going on, just tell him it was an experiment!  Intellectual curiosity!  Sexual depravity! Uh, maybe not that one,] the redhead mused as she noticed from the wall clock that Spike had now been gone for ten minutes.

Where was he?  Her garden wasn't that big.  There was no sound coming from outside - perhaps he was just checking to make sure no-one was lurking in the bushes?  Willow blushed to the roots of her hair as she imagined the scene that any Peeping Tom would have viewed if they had been looking through her kitchen windows this evening.

But even as she mentally squirmed in embarrassment the redhead couldn't prevent the smile that lit up her face as she recalled just how, well, Spike-like her new Spikebot was proving to be.  The twinges of pain from her well-reddened behind were a constant reminder of this evening's activities - and that was just so far.  No doubt there was more to come - if Spike would just hurry up and return.

Moving around the kitchen and trying to summon the nerve to look outside or at least call out his name, Willow walked past the shopping bag leaning haphazardly against the chair Spike had been sitting on.  Unable to resist the opportunity, Willow knelt down and emptied the contents on the floor, her face blushing even brighter as she examined the contents spread before her.

As she reached out a hesitant hand to examine what looked like a ridiculously large bright blue dildo she heard the back door shut, and jumped to her feet, trying to control her sudden nervousness.  In her haste she kicked the pile of objects now strewn on the floor, and a cock ring rolled across the floor to rest against a dusty Doc Marten boot.

[Eeep!  Damn robots, they're quieter than vampires!]

"Well, well, well, getting bored were you?  Looking for some props for the next act?"  With a very satisfied smirk Spike bent down and picked up the
metal ring, remarking almost to himself "I don't think we'll be needing that" before strolling across the room to sit himself down on the chair next to Willow.  Dropping the ring to the floor, Spike looked at the blue dildo then at Willow's flushed cheeks and laughed.  "Like the look of that do you?
Maybe later.  But first, I believe we have some unfinished business?"

And with a quirk of his scarred eyebrow - [got to give Warren points for attention to detail] Willow mused - Spike undid the top button of his jeans
and waited with apparent casualness for Willow to make a move.

Just seeing him sitting there, his legs casually spread, mocking expression firmly in place - it was her fantasy come to life, and Willow was going to
make the most of it.  This Spike was hers, and she was sure that Warren had programmed him to be essentially nice, so she didn't have to worry about snide remarks or being publicly humiliated in front of her friends.  [Well, unless they find out that I had sex with a robot.  I mean, that's gonna be kind of embarrassing.]

Determined to let herself have one night if pleasure without her meddlesome mind interfering, Willow resolutely tuned out her inner voice and slowly
started to unbutton her shirt, letting it drop to the floor.  Standing naked for one moment she reveled in the look of desire on Spike's face, then knelt gracefully before him and reached out to slowly undo his trousers, motioning for him to stand so that she could pull the confining denim down.

Letting his erection spring free, Willow's eyes widened [wow, who did Warren use as a model for this?  Maybe he watched Boogie Nights one time too many.] She felt a momentary twinge; it had been a while since she'd had sex with a man, and this was way more man than Oz.  But even as her mind was grappling with the logistics of it all, her body was leaning forward to gently run her tongue over the tip of his cock, taking tiny licks until a
growl encouraged her to take the head of his shaft into her mouth and start some serious sucking.

It was just too good.  Willow could even taste a hint of pre-cum on her lips as she licked and sucked in earnest, bringing moans from her partner.  She could feel Spike starting to thrust into her mouth, but just as she wondered whether a robot could ejaculate Spike withdrew from her mouth and quickly stood, pulling her to her feet.

"Let's take this upstairs," she was told, and she walked obediently towards the stairs, paused while Spike collected some toys from the kitchen floor, and then hand in hand they went up to Willow's bedroom.

Willow had barely crossed the threshold when she heard the door shut behind her with a thud, and she turned to see Spike leaning against it
suggestively, his undone jeans resting precariously on his hips and his erection more than evident as he swung a wooden paddle in one hand and held the blue dildo in the other.

Swallowing nervously Willow backed up, only to sit down abruptly when her knees hit the back of the bed.  She winced slightly at the sudden pressure on her still sore ass, and Spike smiled.  Walking to her, he pushed her flat on the bed and lent over, brushing his pelvis against hers.  "Bit sore, are you?"

"Yes" Willow half moaned as she tried to increase the friction between them.

"Well you ain't seen nothing yet," she was told, and her eyes closed in pleasure as Spike's jeans seemed to suddenly vanish and he thrust into her
with a single stroke, bringing a scream of pleasure to her lips.  [He really is the Big Bad] she decided, then all coherent thought left her as Spike
made good on his promise.

*****

Just before dawn Spikebot's internal sensors detected movement, so he reactivated himself although his internal damage repair program was not yet
complete.

He opened his eyes to find himself in unfamiliar surroundings.  He replayed his last visual input: it had been 10.27pm, and he had been patrolling
Willow's garden for the source of the noise which had disturbed them.

The preliminary results of the repair program suggested he had been hit over the head with a heavy object.  It appeared he had also been moved, as he was now tied to the wall in a garage.  He also noted he was gagged, apparently with a T-shirt.

Puzzling over his predicament, Spikebot again detected movement, and he was able to identify it as coming from the darkness outside the garage door.  He looked up in time to see his mirror image stroll casually into the room.

"Well, well, well. Sleeping Beauty is awake, eh?" asked the vampire with a grin.
 

~Part 9~

Willow squirmed in her bed, unable to find a comfortable position.  She punched her pillow a few times, but to no avail - something felt off. Struggling awake, she let her mind do a brief re-cap before she realised what the problem was; her robot had gone AWOL.  She let one bleary eye focus on her alarm clock: it was 4am.  Deciding that a robot should be able to take care of itself, Willow let her eyes drift shut as she fell asleep once more.

*****

Spikebot reviewed his internal files, which noted that the prototype Spike was a vicious demon killer.  His programming springing to life, Spikebot
gave a fairly creditable glare and demanded, "What have you done to Willow? Have you hurt her?"  Tied firmly to the wall despite his struggles, Spikebot calculated that his primary purpose of making Willow happy was in some jeopardy.

"Hurt her?  You're one to talk.  Saw you spanking her."  Just the thought made Spike stop for a moment and adjust his trousers.  "Never realised she
was such a wildcat, but then again, it's always the quiet ones.  Decided she deserved someone who knew what they were doing."

"You went back into the house?  After capturing me?  Willow saw you?  She knows that I am being held here?"

"Well, obviously, she thinks I was you.  Lucky you're such a bad boy, eh princess?" said Spike with a leer as he surveyed the squirming robot.  At
first he had found it unnerving, looking at a robot that apparently looked enough like him to fool Willow.  [Bloody hell, my hair really looks good like that!  Dru was right about one thing, at least,] Spike decided, enjoying the opportunity to see himself for the first time in over a century.  [No wonder Red is hot for me!]

He was still bemused by the idea that Willow, who always seemed such an uptight do-gooder, would have the, well, the balls, to pull off such a
stunt.  When he had stormed over to the Rosenberg residence to find out why the Scoobies were under the impression that he and Willow were an item, he certainly hadn't expected to find his clone spanking her cute little ass. [That girl has got taste!] he decided, then he put images of the last few hours, very pleasant though they had been, from his mind, and he turned back to his captive.

"You know," he said conversationally, "one of the things that pisses me off most at the moment, and it's quite a long list, but anyway number one?  Not being able to hurt humans.  I mean, OK, I can beat up on demons, which is kind of fun.  And I can get nasty with Willow, which is definitely a lot of fun.  But straight out beating someone to death?  Now that I miss."

Spike looked at Spikebot, whose face was blank as he tried to work out where this conversation was headed.

"You look pretty human," Spike said with a grin, before picking up a tyre iron and moving towards the now frantically squirming robot.

****

Pieces of metal were scattered over the floor, from tiny smashed computer chips to larger sections of aluminium.  The robot had ceased movement at least half an hour ago, but Spike didn't mind - he was on a roll.

"And that's for being such a fucking idiot as to fall for the slayer," he said as he smashed the tyre iron into the almost unrecognisable robot.  "And
that's for letting Harmony burn your stuff - pussy whipped moron!"  And with his next blow he severed the robot's remaining arm.

****

Willow stirred as she felt a cool form slip into the bed behind her.  She felt blunt teeth scrape against the nape of her neck, and she sighed in
pleasure as every nerve ending in her body seemed to spring to life. "Mmmmmm" she murmured, helpfully arching her neck to allow her companion
better access.  "Where have you been?  I heard some weird noises coming from the garage.  What were you doing?  Recharging your batteries or something?"

"Or something" Spike agreed, as he put his mouth and hands to good use and made sure that nothing intelligible was said for at least the next hour.
 

~Part 10~

Willow woke up slowly, her body aching deliciously from head to toe.  She felt like - well, actually she felt like she had spent most of the past 12
hours having raunchy sex with her Spikebot.  Stretching her still tender muscles, the redhead noticed that she was once again alone in the bed.

Her alarm clock showed it was almost 10am; [I guess I needed my rest after all that hard work] Willow thought with a smirk.  She wondered where
Spikebot had gone - maybe he needed to plug himself into a power point every now and then?  He had certainly used up plenty of energy last night.
Willow's cheeks flushed at the memory; to think she had been worried that Spikebot wouldn't be able to be "bad" enough!

He had managed to fulfill just about every Spike-centred fantasy she had ever had, and lots that she'd never even imagined.  It made her pause for a moment to wonder how much of Spikebot's sexual imagination came from his programming; [maybe Warren plugged him into the Playboy channel,]  Willow mused, unable to believe that Warren himself would have even heard of some of the things that Spikebot had got up to last night.  [Must have some fancy programming to let him learn as fast as that.  Maybe he picked up some hints when he went shopping?]

Willow's face flushed again at the thought of Spikebot's purchases, many of which had been put to good use last night.  Which brought the redhead's attention back to her aching muscles and numerous tender spots.  With a satisfied sigh, she eased herself from the crumpled sheets and strolled to the bathroom - a nice hot bubble bath was just what the doctor ordered.

As Willow slid into her vanilla scented bath foam, across town a very cheerful Spike was in his crypt, emptying the contents of a sack into his
underground hidey hole.  As he watched the various metal pieces fall into the darkness, Spike took a long drag of his cigarette, before dropping the
empty sack after the remains of Spikebot and closing the hatch.  [Can't have any visitors stumbling across that,] the blonde thought with a smirk.  [Red might get cold feet if she ever works out what's going on.]

And the last thing he wanted was for his new playmate to get cold feet. Spike couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a great shag; maybe the early years with his beautiful sire, when her attention had been focused on her childe rather than the stars or her lost sire?  But even then the sex had been very different, full of blood and pain.  OK, there had been a bit of blood and pain last night, but nothing heavy.  Nothing that had even
managed to set the chip off, something that had been a big relief for Spike who had dreaded finding himself doomed to vanilla sex for the rest if his
unnatural life - with humans, anyway.

But no, the chip had finally decided to let him have a bit of fun.  And who would have thought that Willow would be such a good shag?  If he were still an unchipped master vampire she would have a collar on and be chained to the end of his bed by now.  Spike had to stifle a groan at the metal image; naked Willow, on all fours by a big iron bed, breasts swaying gently, bottom begging to be spanked, her slender neck encased in a metal studded, black leather collar, with a leash held firmly in his hand as he...

Spike shook his head, clearing away the image and willing down his erection. He dropped his cigarette to the ground, crushing the butt beneath his
boot.  He had work to do before tonight, plans to make, innocents to corrupt.  And with those happy thoughts in his mind Spike lay down on the
nearest sarcophagus, to get a few hours sleep.  Damn if that little spitfire hadn't worn him out!

*****

Buffy dialed - again - hoping that this time she would manage to get Willow rather than the answering machine.  She heard the phone ring, then click over to the machine, but just as she was about to hang up a breathless voice came on the line.

"Hello?"

"Willow?  It's me.  What are you doing?"

"Doing?  Nothing.  I mean, why would I be doing anything?  Except, you know, working, researching kind of things.  Good things."  Willow paused to take a breath when a thought occurred to her.  "Hey, how did you know that I'd be here anyway?"

"Tara told me, last night at the Magic Box.  She told me you guys broke up."

"Oh, yeah.  Yep. Sure."  Willow couldn't really think of anything to say, and there was no way she could sound convincingly upset.  She could hardly
even remember that she and Tara had been a couple.  It seemed like Spikebot had erased all her memories of past lovers, leaving only him in her mind.

"Anyway, she also mentioned that you and Spike are, um, involved now."

Willow froze, her mouth hanging open as she prayed that she was just imaging this entire conversation.

"Willow?  You there?"

"Yeeesss," breathed Willow in a soft voice.

"Look, I just wanted you to know that we all know about Spike and it's fine. I mean, whatever makes you happy.  And if you want to talk, just give me a call, or come over, or whatever.  Okay?"

"Okay," said Willow, slowly putting the phone down as she slid into a fetal position on the floor. [OH MY GODDESS!!] her brain screamed, before a sliver of ice went down her spine as she played back the conversation.  ["We all know". What does that mean, "we".  Who is "we"?? OH MY GODDESS!!]

Willow suddenly had a very, very bad feeling about all of this.

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