Slowly sipping her luke warm herbal tea, Willow glanced anxiously at her watch. It was already after 2; Buffy had promised to meet her at 2pm, and it was normal for the Slayer to be running a bit late. But all this waiting was wearing on willow's already irritated nerves.
She had spent most of the morning caught somewhere between hysteria and apathetic acceptance. It was all going to come out; everyone would know just what a loser geek she really was, being desperate enough to make a robot to have sex with. And not just any robot, oh no. She hadn't made one to resemble her faithless ex-boyfriend, or some movie star. No, she Willow Rosenberg, nerd extraordinaire and budding witch, had instead decided to create a carbon copy of the demon who had on many occasions tried to kill her and her friends, the soul-less Spike.
Now she was not only going to have to explain all this to her friends, but also to face real-Spike. Her mind shied away from imagining what the vampire would have to say about her actions. Bad enough to have a crush on him without being outed in front of all of her friends. She noticed her fingers were tapping uncontrollably on the sides of her rapidly cooling cup, and blinked several times as she felt tears of self-pity forming behind her lashes.
[Get a grip! Buffy will be here any minute! Time to face the music.]
Having taken quite some time to recover from Buffy's little bombshell this morning, Willow had decided there was only one thing to do; she had to meet Buffy and try to find out just what she knew - and how she knew it. Then - well, she didn't really have any plan after that, except for some major damage control. Maybe she could do a spell, to make every one forget her lapse? But reviewing her normal success with spells the witch was a little reluctant to try that course.
Instead she had straightened up the house, and hidden all of her naughty Spikebot props away from prying eyes. Then she had called Buffy and arranged to meet. Willow had declined Buffy's suggestion that the Slayer come over to her house, worrying that Spikebot might interrupt the conversation and make matters even worse than they already were. [OK, that's one positive thing - it could be even worse than this! This is not the absolute most embarrassing position I could be in. Not yet, anyway.]
She had then waited for Spikebot to come home, but to no avail. [Where the hell is he anyway?] the redhead fumed. That was just what she needed, Spikebot roaming Sunnydale. Her face blanched as she considered the possibilities. But having no way to contact him or track him down [although it will be a big clue if I see a Spike lookalike strolling in the midday sun], she had been forced to go out to meet with Buffy, leaving a note behind telling Spikebot to stay put and wait for her to return.
So here she was, waiting for the Slayer with all the enthusiasm of a lifelong candy addict going for their regular dental check-up, with the lingering worry that even if she somehow managed to worm her way out of this there was still the AWOL Spikebot to deal with. Checking her watch again [2.26] Willow was about to cut her losses and make a run for it [I hear Mexico is lovely at this time of year] when with a flurry of colour and motion Buffy deposited herself in the seat opposite the nervous witch.
"Hey, sorry I'm late. Giles, research, demons, the usual. Do you want another tea?"
As Willow shook her head Buffy placed her order with the hovering waitress, then settled herself more comfortably in her chair.
"Soooooo, you got some news?"
Horrified to feel her cheeks burning, Willow took a deep calming breath. This was it.
"Sounds like you heard already?" she said with what she hoped was a shy but happy grin.
"Well, I heard something. Would have thought my best friend would give me the news first hand, but anyway Tara bumped into Spike last night and he told her about you guys. Seems you've had an impact on the bleached wonder already," said Buffy as she struggled to maintain her friendly tone. She still couldn't believe that Willow was involved with Spike, but she was determined to maintain her supportive-friend strategy. Maybe all those psychology classes would pay off after all.
"Ahhh, what do you mean?" asked Willow, her mind trying to work out what the hell was going on.
"Oh, Tara said he seemed almost friendly, you now, a bit nicer than the Big Bad Mr Attitude we usually get to deal with."
Everything clicked in Willow's mind, although why Spikebot had been announcing their "relationship" to all and sundry was still something of a mystery.
"So now everyone knows, then?"
"Yep, Xander freaked, you can imagine! He had enough trouble dealing with Angel. Anyway Anya and I talked him around, and so when we have the research meeting tonight, you guys don't have to worry about, you know, normal Xander bad jokes or whatever. We are all absolutely cool with it."
"Research meeting?"
"Sure, you and Spike have to come, Giles has got the wiggins about some new demon or something, anyway make sure you're both there at sunset. You can pass the message to Spike, can't you?"
"Oh yeah, sure. Uh-huh."
And with that the conversation veered from the dangerously embarrassing to simply the embarrassing, with Buffy quizzing Willow on her new "man", and Willow finding that she basically just had to tell the truth when explaining why she had formed such an attachment to the Big Bad. She knew that with every word she was digging herself a deep hole that she would undoubtedly end up in, but she just couldn't help herself. She had kept her feelings about Spike secret for so long, even from herself it seemed, that she couldn't stop herself from taking advantage of this opportunity to tell all.
Finally drawing to a close after extolling Spike's many attractions, Willow found her new-found good mood shattered as Buffy stood up, saying "I'd better get back to Giles. Are you going to see Spike now?"
"Oh yes. Yes, definitely, I'll go over now and let him know about tonight."
"Alright, see you there" said Buffy with a cheerful wave as she walked out of the coffee shop, leaving behind a very tense Willow.
~Part 12~
Half an hour later the redhead was standing outside a crypt. And not just any crypt. No, this was the home of Spike, her supposed boyfriend, whom she was expected to be producing tonight for inspection by her friends. Willow stood there waiting for inspiration to strike. There were still a few hours before sunset. Maybe she could convince Spike to leave Sunnydale? Or lock him up in a dungeon somewhere? Or pay him a lot of money to keep quiet?
None of these options really struck Willow as very good ideas. [Right, like making a robot was a good idea to start with!] she berated herself before deciding she would just go with the flow. Pushing open the crypt door carefully, she made sure she blocked the sunlight with her body as she went inside. [Don't want to vaporise the vamp. Although that would solve my problem - oh, bad Willow!]
She could see Spike lying on one of the tombs, apparently asleep. Willow fidgeted, unsure of the etiquette of breaking into a vampire's tomb. It seemed to her that waking a sleeping Spike would probably guarantee a pissed-off vampire, which was definitely not going to help her prospects of success.
Walking as quietly as possible, she moved closer to the sleeping form, ending up close enough to touch him. She cleared her throat softly, and waited with bated breath, but there was no sign from the still body that he had been roused by the sound. [Wouldn't have thought a vampire would be a heavy sleeper,] Willow mused as she studied his face. [What with the supernatural hearing thing.]
As she gained confidence that Spike was really deeply asleep, she took the opportunity to examine his face in detail, trying to compare it to her SpikeBot. The features were definitely the same, but even the texture of the skin looked identical. It was uncanny.
Leaning a little closer, Willow focused on the scar on his eyebrow. So intent was she that the sensation of a hand suddenly squeezing her wrist resulted in her emitting an ear-splitting screech, as she jumped back and tried to free herself from an irritated looking Spike.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled, keeping a firm hold on her wrist. "Got a stake tucked away somewhere have you?" he asked as his free hand started to skim over her body in an apparent search for weapons.
Willow was caught between apologising for her invasion of his crypt and protesting at the way his free hand was feeling her up. As his fingers squeezed her bottom, she yelped and indignation got the better of her.
"I'm hardly going to have a stake there," she shouted, trying to twist her wrist free.
"Better safe than sorry" Spike replied with a leer as he suddenly released her, letting Willow scramble back a few steps to put some space between them.
Willow took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. This was not an auspicious start. Gathering her courage, she finally made eye contact with Spike again to see that he was now sitting casually on the edge of the crypt, cigarette in hand and "Big Bad" attitude on display. [Oh dear,] thought Willow.
As Spike showed no inclination to ask her why she was in his crypt, Willow decided she might as well just jump right in. "So, I suppose you're wondering why I'm here," she said in what she intended to be a calm voice, but it came out with a wavering tone that had Spike's mouth twisting in a sarcastic smile.
"I couldn't care less actually," was the cool reply. "Unless you've got some more of that whisky with you."
"Ah, no, no whisky. But I have a proposition for you."
"I'm listening," was the only reply she got, and Willow had to fight her impulse to start babbling. There was just something about taciturn men, the less they said the stronger her impulse to fill the conversational void with a stream of sound. But not this time. No. This time she was going to be focused. OK, she had no plan, but hey - she could improvise.
"Well, I have been thinking about your, ah, you know, the Buffy situation, and I am also having some problems of my own, and I thought we could, you know, help each other out."
Spike just stared at her, and Willow swallowed to clear her suddenly dry throat. "And of course, there's something in it for you."
"Money?" Spike asked with a glimmer of interest.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. "Blood", was Willow's reply, and she smiled inwardly at the glint of gold in Spike's eyes as he tried to hide his sudden interest.
"Let's hear it then," was his only response.
"OK, well, I know that Buffy is not really, you know, showing an interest in you in a, um, a boyfriend kind of way, or even a friend way, or even in an I-can-only just-stand-you kind of way..." Willow hurried on as she saw Spike's expression darken. "Right! OK, well I have a plan. Um, it's a classic, and it will also help me with some problems I have, and it's so simple, ha, you know, you and I pretend that we are, you know, involved, then Buffy will realise that you are actually great boyfriend material, despite the whole evil undead killer thing, and there you go! Oh, and I will give you blood. Yep, I will get you a bag a day while the, um, the deal is going."
Willow stopped, waiting for some response. [Hope that chip is still working], she thought nervously.
"And why exactly do you want your pathetic friends to think you are fucking the undead?" Spike asked casually.
Willow's face flamed, and she stumbled for a credible reply. "Well, actually, um, what happened is that Tara and I had a fight, and I kind of insinuated that we were involved. Yep, it just came out. And she kind of told everyone so now they already think we are, you know, um, well. And it's working! I mean, with Buffy! I spoke to her today and told her lots of good things about you and she seemed, well, OK, not actually interested, but not repulsed!"
Willow reflected that perhaps she could have put that better, but before she had a chance to rephrase Spike was off the crypt and moving steadily towards her. The redhead backed up until she felt herself hit one of the walls, and she waited nervously as the blonde approached to stand pressed against her.
"Well, normally I don't do mercy fucks, but if you want to try a ride, why don't you just ask? Or maybe you could beg?"
Willow felt her temper snap, and without thinking she slapped Spike as hard as she could, watching in horror as a red hand mark flared up on his cheek.
Spike smiled slightly, and rubbed his pelvis against her, and Willow was horrified to find that he had apparently enjoyed her attack. "Mmm, nice," Spike purred. "Nothing like a bit of spanking to get the juices flowing, is there Red?"
Willow's heart stopped. [No, no, no, he can't know about that. No, no, no.] As her mind battled to retain some sense of calm her traitorous hormones were replaying highlights of last night's SpikeBot sex romp. [Mmm, spanking. Big, strong vampire. Big, strong, naked vampire spanking me. Nice. Naked Spike. Nice, nice, nice].
Just as Willow felt her only two options were to either faint or jump at Spike and rip off his clothes, she was saved from embarrassment by the bleached wonder himself. Backing up a step or two and giving the hyperventilating redhead some much needed breathing room, Spike smirked and said, "No need to get your knickers in a twist, Red. You can slap me any time; it's practically foreplay for a vampire. Especially if you throw in a bit of blood." And with that he licked his lips in what Willow considered a very provocative manner, but she refused to give up hope of keeping the conversation on track.
"Sooo," she started again. "I'm sorry about telling everyone we were involved. It just kind of slipped out."
Spike shrugged nonchalantly.
Willow's curiosity was aroused. "I thought you'd be more, well, upset."
"Why's that?" asked Spike, hunting through his pockets for another cigarette.
"Well, you big evil vampire, me little nerdy human. You know, not good for your image."
Spike gave a surprising relaxed laugh. "Pet, how much of a reputation do you think I have left to lose? I mean, I've got a bloody chip in my head, can't even protect myself from a group of boisterous boy scouts. I'm living in a hovel, my sire dumped me for a Chaos demon, and I'm reduced to living on the Slayer's handouts. I should think it would do my reputation a bit of good if word got out I was shagging a witch, especially a cutie like you."
Willow froze. Had he just called her a cutie?
Spike's mind however was drifting in a different direction. "Hardly a vampire at all anymore. Worse than Angel. I can't even remember the last time I had human blood. Can't show my face at Willy's anymore, have to skulk around to the butchers hoping a sodding pig has died. What kind of an unlife is that?" Casting a quick glance at Willow to see if his words were having the desired effect, Spike gave a sad sigh.
Willow took the bait. "Well, I can get you blood, you know, as part of the deal."
"Well, there's blood and then there's blood," drawled Spike, putting a definite emphasis on the last word.
"What do you mean?" asked Willow, with a sinking feeling.
"The only way I am going to go along with your plan, which seems like a recipe for disaster by the way, is if you give me some of your blood."
"My blood?" Willow squeaked. Spike just stared at her. "My blood?" she repeated, turning the idea over in her mind.
"Is there a bloody echo in here? Look pet, here's the deal. Either you agree to give me a mug full of that nice red stuff every week from your own personal supply, or I'm going tonight to tell your little mates exactly what's going on."
Willow shifted nervously. Great. Either she became a walking blood bank for Spike or she got to explain to her friends what was really going on, and of course there was no way she could keep the SpikeBot out of it. At least Spike didn't know about that!
"But you can't. I mean, the chip," Willow said weakly, knowing that there was really no choice.
"Oh, a clever girl like you, I'm sure we can sort something out," Spike replied with a leer.
With the sensation of events getting well and truly out of control, Willow sighed, then said calmly, "Fine. I'll do it."
~Part 13~
Willow swallowed nervously, her calm mood evaporating at the look of unbridled hunger that crossed Spike's face at her words. She had to remember this was Spike, real-Spike not SpikeBot, and just because he had a chip didn't mean he couldn't think of lots of ingenious ways to hurt her. Her heart rate started to accelerate, whether because of her lingering fear or because the thought of SpikeBot had filled her mind with images of last night, Willow wasn't sure.
[Remember, that wasn't him] she admonished herself. She needed to keep focused. There was still a chance, admittedly a slim one, that she could pull this off, and somehow manage to escape without anyone knowing what had really happened. And if that meant sacrificing a few pints of blood - well, she'd donated blood before, how bad could it be? From the look in Spike's eyes, Willow had a feeling she would be finding out the answer to that question sooner rather than later.
"So, what's the plan then?"
"Plan?" Willow repeated blankly.
Spike gave her a withering look, and said slowly, "You and me, going to convince your friends we are shagging, put your girly friend off the scent and get Buffy to wise up to the charms of the Big Bad? Am I ringing any bells here?"
"Oh right, right, the plan! Ah, there is a research meeting tonight, and we are expected. I mean, you know "we", as in a couple kind of thing. You and me. A couple." The redhead looked momentarily astounded, as though the implications of putting her and Spike together in a sentence with the word "couple" had finally sunk in.
"Well," said Spike, drawing the word out with relish as Willow's babble trailed off, "If I'm going to have to start work I'll have to be getting my wages in advance, so to speak. Not that I don't trust you," the vampire continued with a tone that suggested he didn't trust anyone, "but you just can't be too careful."
Willow thought briefly about playing dumb, but the way he was staring fixedly at her neck made his meaning pretty clear.
"But you can't bite me. I mean, I guess I could get a syringe and, um, fill a mug for you?" Willow asked nervously.
Spike smiled in genuine amusement. "Drink your blood from a mug? Oh no, I don't think so. No, no, no. C'mon Red, you may not be a vamp, but you must be able to see that half the fun is in the packaging."
Willow blushed at the look on Spike's face, while at the same time feeling a tiny rush of pride. [He likes my packaging!]
Her warm and fuzzy thoughts were soon interrupted by the sight of Spike's demon suddenly coming to the fore, and despite herself Willow let out a gasp as she flinched back.
"Now don't be like that, pet" Spike crooned, inhaling deeply to catch the intoxicating scent of her sudden fear. "I promise my fangs will hurt a lot less than a needle. More fun for the both of us too," he said, edging closer.
[Fangs? FANGS??] Willow was wondering if the chip had somehow malfunctioned - [great, another problem].
"But you can't. You can't bite me. The chip!" Willow let out with a squeak, even as she took advantage of the moment to get a good look at his ridged face. She had seen plenty of vamped out demons before, but mostly late at night in poorly lit cemeteries, and in a life or death situation, which wasn't really the ideal environment for leisurely examination.
She watched the way the ridges shifted as Spike smiled, and noticed that the texture seemed different to skin. [I wonder what it feels like?] she asked herself even as she carefully kept as much distance between herself and Spike as possible. She knew this was still Spike, but with his demon showing, somehow it was hard to remember that he was effectively fangless.
Spike moved forward again, thoroughly enjoying the way the redhead shifted back while trying to look casual about it. He could here her heart rate going a mile a minute, and his teeth were starting to itch at the thought of finally getting a taste of some human blood again.
"Well, OK, the chip," Spike agreed as he suddenly reached out one hand to grab Willow by the back of the neck and drag her into his lap. "I'm sure we can work around that."
Willow found herself suddenly sitting on top of Spike while a raspy tongue started to work its way up and down her neck. [A vampire is licking my neck. Spike is licking my neck. Why is he doing that? What am I doing here? Mmmm, that kind of feels nice. Like a big cat. A wild cat. A wild demon. A demon is LICKING MY NECK!]
Her brain finally kicking into gear, Willow cleared her voice nervously and tried to resist squirming as she asked politely, "Ahh, Spike? Spike? SPIKE!"
Grudgingly giving up his game, Spike raised his yellow eyes to look at the redhead. "What?" he growled, taking the opportunity to slip one hand underneath Willow's bottom and position her a bit better. Willow suddenly found herself pressing up against Spike's groin. [Oh. Oooohhh. I guess Spikebot really is anatomically correct,] Willow decided as Spike took the opportunity to grind his obvious erection into her bottom. As Spike bent his head towards her neck again Willow tried once more to get the conversation - [well, OK, it would be a conversation if either of us were talking] she reasoned -anyway, to get the whole night back on track.
"Spike, why are you licking my neck?"
"Don't you like it?" he asked playfully, leaning forward to rub one ridged brow against her face. Willow shivered with pleasure; his skin felt so nice, kind of scratchy.
"Umm, the deal was for blood, not licking," Willow said firmly. After a quick re-think, she added hopefully, "Well, we could make if for licking instead, if you like?"
Spike grinned, showing way too much fang for Willow's comfort. "Well, I do like the licking, but blood's better," the blonde murmured, keeping his mouth so close to her skin that she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke. "Anyway, here's the thing. If I don't hurt you, the chip won't go off, right?"
"Umm, I guess," said Willow, looking with some trepidation at the long, razor sharp canines protruding from his mouth.
"Well, I'll bet if you asked me to bite you, and I made sure it didn't hurt much, well, why should the chip get involved, eh pet?"
Green eyes looked into gold for a heartbeat, before Willow gave a mental shrug. [A deal's a deal] she decided, as she said with a sigh, "Please Spike, would you bite me?" And even as she said the words, she realised with a groan that her predominant emotion was not fear but anticipation.
[Bad, bad Willow] she berated herself, before Spike's head dipped down and his tongue began its leisurely journey up and down her neck, gradually increasing the pressure until she could feel the tips of his teeth scraping against her skin. It was delicious, and she instinctively arched her neck further, offering her throat to him.
Taking the hint, Spike stopped his teasing and fastened his lips onto her skin, sucking softly then with increasing pressure, before gently sliding his teeth into her smooth skin. Spike tensed for a moment, waiting for the chip to fry his brain, but - nothing. His entire body relaxed as he settled himself down to enjoy his meal, wonderful life-giving blood from a beautiful redhead, who (if her moans were anything to go by) was enjoying this nearly as much as him.
After several minutes of total silence, Spike reluctantly ceased his slow sucking and moved his mouth away from temptation. He looked down at the dazed redhead sitting passively in his arms, and tucked her head under his chin so she wouldn't see his wolfish grin.
[Oh yeah, unlife is starting to look up!] the vampire decided, and already his thoughts were full of plans for later tonight. Cos Spike had to go to the research meeting, but after that? Seemed like Spikebot still had a night's work ahead of him. [Blood and sex] Spike thought with relish as his mind began to wander.
And in all his fantasies about what exactly he was going to go to his redhead this evening, it didn't once occur to the blonde that the Slayer made not even a brief appearance.
~Part 14~
Willow's thoughts were vague, her mind filled with a blur of muted sounds and nerve-tingling sensations. She could feel Spike's chest under her cheek, and marveled at the hard, smooth stillness of it. She tried to remember when exactly Spike's shirt had been removed, but her memory was a blank.
One of Spike's hands was slowly playing with her hair, curling a strand around a finger before letting it fall free then repeating the process, and with every move of his hand against the delicate skin of her scalp a cascade of shivers moved down Willow's spine. There was a distant contented rumbling coming from deep within the vampire's chest, the sound somewhere between a purr and a moan; the soothing cadence was doing nothing to aid Willow in her admittedly half-hearted effort to take some control of her situation - or at least to get off Spike's lap.
Undermining her already shaky resolve was Spike's intermittent licking of her throat, his tongue moving slowly and with obvious pleasure over the no longer bleeding puncture marks, as though to reassure himself that the past hour had indeed occurred.
Shifting slightly on his lap, Willow tried to shake the fuzziness out of her head. It was dusk now, and time to head off to the research meeting. But she just couldn't seem to find the energy to get up.
Spike felt the redhead move in his arms, and fought the urge to tighten his embrace; he had no desire for her to go anywhere. He was still buzzing from the magically-laden blood that was coursing through his veins; [not just a great shag, she tastes damn fine as well] mused Spike as he wondered how he was going to last another seven days before his next fix. Continuing to fondle the silky flame coloured hair that was wrapped around his fingers, Spike decided that Spikebot might need to start expressing an interest in learning the fine art of bloodplay.
But that meant they would need to leave the crypt. Cursing the necessity, Spike bent his head down to rub his cheek against Willow's, noting with an inner smile that the witch still looked dazed. "You know," the blonde said conversationally, the sound of his voice seeming to rouse Willow from her stupor, "they say there's only one thing better than a vampire's kiss."
Sensing she wouldn't like where this was going but unable to resist the temptation, Willow took the bait. "And what's that?" she asked huskily.
"A vampire's kiss while you orgasm," Spike said in a voice that instantly brought every one of Willow's nerve endings awake. "Once you've tried it, you can never go back."
Willow froze as she tried to work out what was going on. Did Spike want to have sex with her? Maybe he'd finally given up on Buffy? Or maybe he thought she was so desperate she wouldn't mind acting as a stand-in until their deception achieved some results and Buffy decided to accept one of Spike's many invitations? Or did he think that by having sex with her he could feed off her whenever he wanted?
The sudden rush of anger through her body had the immediate effect of clearing her thoughts. Standing up and trying to look dignified while she make an effort to straighten her clothing, Willow fumed as she took in the sexily sprawled form before her, bare chest and tousled blonde hair doing nothing to abate her anger.
"We have a deal," Willow said icily. "And you've been paid, in advance. There will be no sex, and there will be no teasing, otherwise I'll go straight to Buffy and show her this," and Willow pointed to the bite mark on her throat, "and tell her that the chip has malfunctioned and you are coming to kill us."
Spike grimaced as he stood up, dusting down his trousers and looking around for his shirt. "Now, now pet, no need to be nasty." Spike had no idea what was wrong with her. [Bloody women! So she's happy to shag an effing electrical appliance but she won't admit she wants the real thing? We'll see about that.]
Looking over at the pouting redhead, Spike wondered why everything always had to be so complicated. Lighting a cigarette, he tried to work out what the hell was wrong with the witch now, then decided even immorality wouldn't give him enough time to understand female mood swings.
"Well, are we off then?" he asked through a cloud of smoke.
"Yeah, we need to head off, but, ahhh," Willow's voice trailed off as she tried to find the right words.
"What?" snarled Spike. Bloody hell, a few minutes ago he'd been completely relaxed and happy, now it was back to the normal mind-blowingly painful mess that was his unlife.
"OK, well, you know we are meant to be, ah, a couple."
"And?"
"Well, we need to be, you know, friendly. With each other."
"Can't say that I'm feeling particularly friendly right now," was the vampire's response.
"Spike, I did what I promised, now you have to, you know, do your bit. For Buffy!" Willow said, trying to keep the pleading tone from her voice.
"It takes two, you know," Spike drawled, seeing the opportunity for some fun.
Willow just looked at him blankly.
"Can't see how I'm meant to be feeling all lovey dovey if you're glaring holes in my chest," Spike pointed out helpfully. "Maybe you need to get me in the mood."
Willow ground her teeth together in fury, but she supposed he had a point. Anyway they certainly couldn't go the research meeting like this; it would only take the others two seconds to smell a rat with her and Spike glaring at each other and hurling insults.
Taking a deep breath, Willow deliberately recalled the images from last night. She remembered being in the kitchen with Spikebot, the feel of his hand spanking her bare bottom, the sound of his voice, the look on his face. Feeling her heartbeat immediately pick up as she struggled to keep her breathing steady, Willow walked over to Spike, deliberately ending up too close to him, so that they were almost touching.
After pausing for a moment that seemed to both to stretch into hours, Willow moved forward, crossing the final inch that separated their bodies and slipping her arms around Spike's waist, pulling their bodies together. Looking up at the motionless blonde from under her eyelashes, Willow gave what she hoped was a sultry smile and asked mischievously, "Are you in the mood yet?".
Spike was pretty sure she already had the answer to her question from the bulge in his trousers that was pressing against her lower stomach, but he had no intention of admitting anything to the cheeky chit.
"That's more like it pet," he purred, calling her bluff as his mouth brushed against hers and his hands dipped to cup her bottom for a brief moment before he let go and moved away from her. "Let's get this show on the road."
And reaching out to take hold of her hand firmly in his, Spike led the blushing redhead out into the night.
~Part 15~
Standing outside the Magic Box, Willow unconsciously tightened her grip on Spike's hand.
"This is it then," she muttered, almost to herself.
"Bloody Hell Red, we're not heading to our deaths you know. The worst thing that will happen is the moron will make some stupid comment, as always, and I'll end up with a mind-numbing headache after I try to rip his arms off." Spike paused for a moment. "Maybe I'll manage to rip one of 'em off before the headache kicks in," he said hopefully.
Willow tried to maintain her serious expression but she couldn't control the little giggle that escaped her at the picture Spike had painted. Even she had to admit Xander could be a bit trying at times. "There will be no ripping off of arms," she said reprovingly. But she had to admit that the sudden release of tension was a welcome relief as they entered the shop, hand in hand, a smile hovering on both their mouths. They came to a halt as the conversation in the room abruptly ended, and they found all eyes suddenly upon them.
"Willow. And Spike. Yes, well, good, let's get to work shall we? Buffy, have you found anything yet?" Giles asked, trying his best to defuse the situation and maintain the illusion that it was business as usual. Yet even he was having a hard time dragging his gaze away from Willow and her new beau.
Buffy had in fact barely glanced at the book that had lain open on the table in front of her for the past hour. She had been thinking over her meeting earlier in the day with Willow. There was something weird going on, something that Willow wasn't telling her. Buffy just had to figure out what it was. And now here they were, the new lovers themselves, providing the Slayer with the perfect opportunity to study them up close.
"Nothing yet Giles," said Buffy as she turned a few pages with a flourish, watching as Willow made her way to the table and sat down between Xander and Buffy in the only empty chair. Spike walked across the room to grab another chair, then brought it back to place it directly behind Willow, sitting down and placing his hands on her shoulders in a casual embrace.
Xander paled and tried to surreptitiously edge his chair away from the couple, but mindful of the numerous and imaginative death threats that Buffy had made to him earlier in the evening he made no comment.
The room was completely silent. Willow frantically searched her brain for something to say, but she drew a blank. All she could do was lean back into Spike's arms, taking what comfort she could from his touch, and hope for the best.
It was Giles who took pity on the redhead, coming to her rescue by putting a stack of books in front of her and giving her instructions as to the nature of the demon they were trying to research.
Willow smiled in relief - research, that she could do. Everyone studiously ignored Spike, who passed the time stroking the redhead's shoulders. At least until the doorbell rang and a flustered Tara entered, hovering in the doorway as her eyes locked onto the sight of Spike and Willow.
Before Tara could manage to speak, Spike let out a low but audible growl, and all eyes swung to the vampire, who had jumped to his feet to stand in front of Willow, blocking her from Tara's view.
"What the fuck do you want?" he sneered, as Tara took an instinctive step backwards.
"I want to speak to Willow," stammered out the witch with surprising coherence.
Spike quirked an eyebrow. "Go on then, we'd love to hear it."
"In private," Tara said, trying to make eye contact with Willow but unable to, the redhead seemingly happy to stay hidden behind Spike.
Spike crossed his arms and stared at the girl, reminding all those in the room of why he had been known as the Big Bad.
Buffy felt it her duty to do something; trouble was, she wasn't exactly sure what, or to who. Her dilemma was solved by Willow standing and laying a calming hand on Spike's shoulder.
"Why don't I just have a few words with Tara in private?" she asked the vampire softly. "It won't take long."
A muscle flexed in Spike's jaw, and he grabbed Willow's arm. "'Scuse us," he muttered before dragging Willow off to the back of the shop.
"Oww," Willow hissed, rubbing her arm when Spike finally released his grip, glaring at him as he took a quick look around the work-out room to make sure they were really alone. "Don't you think you're carrying the possessive lover act a bit too far?" She looked at her reddened skin, muttering, "That's going to leave a bruise!"
Spike was furious, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly why; then again, he'd never been one to over-analyse things.
"If we're meant to be lovers then we need to act like it," he hissed back. "Do you think any woman of mine would be wasting time with that pathetic excuse for a human?"
"Woman of yours!" Willow huffed, struggling to keep her voice down. "Hey mister, in case you've forgotten you are working for me! And you've been paid, so it's time to do some work!"
"So, I have to do some work? That would be in my new job as your shag partner?" Spike said thoughtfully. "OK." And with that he grabbed Willow's head and pulled her face against his, nipping at her lips until she opened her mouth to rebuke him, only to find Spike's tongue taking very skilled advantage of her lapse. As his tongue leisurely explored every nook and cranny in her mouth, Willow found her hands working their way under his duster, kneading the muscles of his back before slipping down to grab his rear and pull his pelvis flush against hers.
"Ahh, Willow, is everything all right?" Willow heard the words but they didn't register until Spike reluctantly pulled his mouth away from hers. She took a much needed breath, letting the oxygen clear her head somewhat, only to blink her eyes in surprise when she realised Giles was standing nearby, furiously polishing his glasses as he avoided looking in their general direction.
"Whaaat?" said Willow, torn between anger at being caught and relief that things hadn't gone any further before Giles showed up.
"We're waiting for you. Tara still wants to talk to you," Giles mumbled before beating a hasty retreat.
Still trying to get herself focused, Willow didn't move. Spike smiled at the picture she made, her mouth all swollen and her eyes glazed. Leaning down, he whispered, "That ought to convince 'em, eh Red?" before sauntering after Giles.
Willow watched him go and ground her teeth at his attitude. What did he think, that this was just a game? [Ah, well, isn't it? I mean, not only is it a game, but it's my game. So that means - I get to make the rules!]
And with an evil grin that rivaled Spike's in terms of attitude, Willow made her way to join the others.
~Part 16~
Willow walked over to the table, trying to pretend everything was normal despite the fact that her ex-girlfriend was hyperventilating so badly she seemed in imminent danger of passing out, and Buffy was glaring at Spike with the clear desire that he do something, anything, to justify her beating him up. Giles was furiously polishing his glasses, while Xander stared fixedly at the vampire seated next to him. Spike himself looked as though he didn't have a care in the world.
[I am calm, I am calm, deep breaths, deep breaths] Willow continued her internal mantra as she maintained the relaxed smile on her face.
Looking over at Tara, Willow gestured for her to get up and said to Spike, "Tara and I will just have a quick chat, we won't be long." Willow bent down to kiss his cheek, and ruffled his hair before quickly stepping away, leaving Spike clenching his jaw as he made a very unconvincing effort to look lover-like. Whether he was annoyed because she was talking to Tara, or because she had disturbed his hair, Willow wasn't sure, but she had no intention of sticking around to find out.
As the two witches disappeared into the back room, Anya decided to try out her new social skills by comforting Spike. "I'm sure Willow just wants to tell Tara that it's all over. I mean, why would she prefer to have sex with a fellow Wicca, a girl her own age, who shares her interests, when she could have sex with someone who has technically been dead for over a hundred years? A soulless demon who is only prevented from murdering us all in our beds by a small piece of aluminium that could cease to function at any moment? I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
Spike gazed at Anya wordlessly. Xander snorted, trying manfully not to laugh, for once enjoying his girlfriend's unusual approach to conversation. Personally, while he never thought much of the whole lesbian thing (unless he got to watch, of course), he would definitely rather have Willow with Tara than Spike.
But Xander's hopes were soon crushed when Willow returned to the room with a tear-streaked Tara, who quickly said good night and left the Magic Box. Willow seemed introspective but not sad, Xander decided clinically as he studied his friend. And she certainly seemed to have developed a new love of public touching. If she wasn't sitting on Spike's lap she was fiddling with his hair, or stroking his arm, or some other absolutely unnecessary physical reminder of their unholy relationship. Xander kept waiting for Spike to slap her hands away - [I mean, c'mon, not only is he a guy, he's a demon!] - but Spike made no reaction to Willow's assaults, neither returning them nor protesting.
But having to witness the evidence of the union was straining everyone's nerves - especially Spike's. [What the hell is that little witch playing at? I don't remember *this* being part of the agreement] Spike fumed inwardly as Willow shifted on his lap, rubbing herself against his erection for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour.
If she didn't stop this soon, Spike knew he was going to lose his patience and just throw her down on the table. The only question in his mind was - [argue first then shag, or vice versa?]. He personally couldn't see the point of all this girly touching; he preferred to just get naked and get on with it.
Willow could sense that Spike was reaching the end of his patience - a virtue in which he was remarkably lacking at the best of times. She wasn't sure exactly why she had decided it would be fun to tease him; with the chip it was a bit like poking a caged lion with a stick, it had the appearance of danger without actual real risk. Plus, she admitted to herself with a small smile, it was really fun. All this touching was getting her really worked up, and she knew just the cure she needed. With a final wriggle against the rock hard shaft that was pushing against her bottom, the redhead said apologetically, "We really have to go now."
She suppressed a grin at the hasty assents from her friends; [I guess they've seen enough of the Willow and Spike show for one night.]
Spike stood up quickly, pulling his duster around his body to shield his lower body from the eyes of the others. That was just what he needed, the Slayer making cracks about his present condition. He'd spend the rest of his unlife caught between dreaming of her bloody death and recovering from head-splitting pain courtesy of his chip.
Whisking Willow outside, Spike said harshly, "What the hell was all that about? I'm not your bloody kitten you know," as he ran his hands through his hair in a futile attempt to restore order.
Willow tried her best to look hurt. "But we're meant to be a couple," she said innocently.
Spike growled in frustration. "Why not just shag on the floor then, that should convince 'em."
"Spike, we have a deal," Willow said primly, as she tried to explain at length why their deception required her to act, well, affectionate towards the blonde vampire.
"Anyway," she concluded as she took Spike's hand in hers, "Didn't you like it?"
Spike gave her a disgusted look. "No, I bloody did not," he growled.
Willow leaned forward to rub her mouth against his, sighing in pleasure when Spike accepted her invitation and invaded her mouth, bringing their bodies together as he took out his frustrations for the past hours of teasing on her willing lips.
Pulling away from his mouth to take a breath, Willow said huskily, "I promise not to do it again," then turned and walked away. Spike stood still, trying to work out what she was talking about. When his brain cleared, he realised she was already half a block away
"Where the hell do you think you're going," Spike yelled.
"Home," came the faint reply. "See you tomorrow."
And pleased at having the final word, Willow walked home with a spring in her step. She noticed the lights were on and grinned as she unlocked the front door, saying loudly, "Honey, I'm home!"
Spikebot rushed in from the kitchen, a frown on his face. "You're so late. I was worried about you. You know it's not safe to walk by yourself at night," he admonished as he came over to greet Willow.
Willow smiled and gave him a hard shove on his chest, pushing him to the floor. Spikebot looked up, confused - had he done something wrong. "Willow?" he said cautiously, before his mistress started to shed her clothes as he watched in pleasure.
"Did you miss me?" the redhead asked with a pout as she straddled him.
"Yes," came the groaned reply.
"Want me to kiss it better?"
Spikebot found himself unable to reply as Willow's tongue plunged into his mouth.
Loving the feeling of being in control for a change, Willow quickly undid the blonde's shirt, pulling her mouth away from his to start work on his nipples, enjoying the feeling of the strong body beneath her writhing helplessly in pleasure as she licked and nipped at the hardened nubs.
She spared a thought for Spike, no doubt by now at home in his crypt and unable to relieve his frustrations. [Too bad for him,] she decided, as she started to undo Spikebot's trousers - she had frustrations of her own to take care of, and the perfect "man" for the job.
~Part: 17~
A cool breeze swept across Willow's naked back, bringing out goose bumps on her skin . She shivered slightly, trying to burrow into the body stretched beneath her but was frustrated by both its lack of warmth and its muscled frame. [Not much soft cuddling going on there], Willow decided unhappily as she rose to her knees to look around for her shirt. Spotting the crumpled piece of fabric within reach, she pulled it on before looking down with a pleased smile at her Spikebot, lying quietly beneath her and watching her with a smug expression.
"Did you like that?" Willow asked hesitantly. [I practically raped him!] she realised, mortified. [Walked in the door and threw him down! Then again, he is my sex-bot. Not like I need to buy him dinner or anything. Not like he's going to say no; doesn't exactly have much of a choice - he's programmed to have sex with me. But still - maybe I should buy him a present? What do you buy a robot?] As the redhead mused over the etiquette of having sex with a robot, and the difficulty of buying a gift for someone who was not only male but also electronic, she was distracted by the slow stretching of the form beneath her, and focused on the familiar face to see his mouth was still curved in a relaxed smile.
"Delicious," her Spikebot purred as he sat up, bringing their torsos together and bending his head forward to nuzzle against the soft skin of her neck. Willow shivered with delight at the sensation, tiny tingles of electricity forming under her skin and working their way down her spine. "Mmmmm", she responded, adjusting her position on his lap to give him better access. The pleasure filling her brain was abated slightly as she made a small grimace and wriggled; she had just noticed the sticky fluids coating her thighs, evidence of their earlier "welcome home". And that small intrusion of conscious thought was enough for her mind to suddenly realise that the area that the Spikebot was nuzzling with such vigourous licks and nips was in fact the same place that Spike - actual Spike - had bitten her earlier.
Willow instinctively pushed the bot away, watching his face as he frowned. "I guess you're wondering, um, I mean, you know, the bite?"
Spikebot continued to frown as he made a half-hearted effort to get his mouth back into contact with her skin, giving it up when Willow leaned back further out of his reach. Sighing against the perversity of women, the bot noticed that his mistress' position had opened up new possibilities. Never one to miss an opportunity, Spike leaned down and seized a rosy nipple gently between his teeth, before loosening his grip to take a larger mouthful of plump breast into his mouth.
Willow moaned with pleasure as she tried to focus her mind. [I don't need to feel guilty,] she reasoned. [It's not like I'm cheating or anything. I mean, I'm sure the bot doesn't mind. Not that there's anything to mind.] Thinking over her deal with Spike suddenly brought back a more pressing issue to her mind, and she pushed the bot away again, this time crawling off his lap to show she meant business.
"I need to talk to you," she told him in her sternest tones, but she only succeeded in bringing a dark chuckle from her companion.
"Talk? Now that seems like a bit of a waste of time luv. I'm sure we can think of a better use for that mouth of yours," he said softly as he stroked his hand slowly down his chest, Willow's gaze helplessly following the slow movement as his slim fingers slid past his stomach and curled around his semi-erect shaft, stroking it lightly before the redhead's heated gaze.
Moving slowly forward, Willow unconsciously licked her lips and decided that they could talk - later.
*****
Frowning as the stream of water pounding down on her from the shower head began to get noticeably cooler, Willow sighed and reluctantly turned off the taps. Her whole body was limp; [maybe I should do a research paper on the long-terms effects of too many orgasms] Willow decided with a cheeky smile. But her smile quickly faded as she considered the introduction she would have to put on the paper, the one which thanked her Spikebot for all his help.
Deciding that there was no point in pondering the absolute wrongness of what she had done - [Bit late now; it's not like I can just release him back into the wild] - Willow decided instead to confront the more immediate problems of where her Spikebot had mysteriously vanished to for most of the day, and why he had told Tara that they were involved.
Trying to look serious - which was made more difficult by the fact that she was swathed in nothing but a fluffy towel - Willow sat on the edge of her bed and watched as the bot opened one eye, then lifted the edge of the blanket in invitation. "We should move to your parents' room. This bed is too small," Spike commented as he waited for his redhead to join him under the covers. Deciding she might as well be comfortable while she talked, Willow dropped her towel and wormed her way under the bed-clothes, assisted by a strong arm which wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against the bot's cool form.
Enjoying the physical contact, Willow allowed herself a few moments of casual groping, imagining herself back in Spike's crypt, and that the chest she was petting belonged to a vampire, not a robot. Frowning at the tangent her thoughts had taken, she spoke quietly.
"Ah, Spike?"
"Yes luv?"
"I was talking to Buffy today, and she told me that you met Tara last night and told her, you know, told her about us."
Spike's quick grin was hidden against the smooth skin of Willow's neck. Lucky for him the bot had been an idiot.
"And?"
Willow stopped for a moment. What did he mean, "and?". She had a horrible feeling that not only were they not on the same page, but that they were reading different books.
"Well look, um, you can't tell people. About us, I mean. I don't want my friends to know, to know ..." Willow floundered for a polite way to express herself.
"That you're shagging a robot?" Spike offered helpfully.
"Exactly," Willow agreed before realising what she'd said and blushed.
Spike took advantage of her momentary inability to speak to add, "So it's alright to have your wicked way with me, several times, but you don't want your friends to know. It's like a dirty little secret then, is it? You're ashamed of me," Spike said with a sad tone, watching with inner glee as Willow's face clouded with confusion.
"Well, I'm not ashamed of you," she said quickly.
"Ashamed of yourself?" Spike asked.
Willow glared at him. Looks like her boy toy was getting ideas above his station. "Listen bot, lose the attitude," she told him sternly. "I thought your only concern was to make me happy?"
"But I don't think you can be happy living a lie," Spike replied in an innocent tone. "I think you should just tell all your friends the truth."
Green eyes flashed in anger. "Look, Mr Robot, when I want your opinion I'll ask for it."
"Oh, so I'm good for a bit of rough, but that's it eh? You just want to shag me, you don't care about my feelings."
"You don't have any feelings. You're a robot," Willow pointed out with exasperation.
"You don't really love me," said Spike mournfully, getting out of bed. He started to gather up his clothes as Willow watched on, bemused.
"Um, where are you going?" she asked curiously.
"I'm not going to stay here and be used by you," her bot replied tearfully. "I'm not just some shameful thing, to be hidden away. I deserve more than that!" And the bot left the room as Willow watched, wide-eyed. [He flounced! He flounced out of my room! My Spikebot is a drama queen!]
Willow shook her head in amazement, and decided she was going to have to work on the bot's programming in the near future.
Outside Spike made it to the shelter of the hedge before collapsing, laughing so hard the tears ran from his eyes. Finally managing to compose himself, he straightened his clothing and headed back to his crypt with a spring in his step.
And from across the street, Buffy watched and wandered what on earth was going on.
~Part: 18~
Gazing at the lights on inside Willow's house, Buffy wondered if she should go over and check on her friend. Her first thought on seeing Spike laughing had been that somehow the chip had malfunctioned, and Spike had started to work through his "must kill" list. But the Slayer could see Willow moving about in the upstairs bedroom, her silhouette passing in front of the window, so whatever had happened at least Willow was still mobile.
Deciding that she would first finish her patrol, and give herself some time to mull over what it all meant, Buffy started off towards the third cemetery on tonight's patrol schedule. Maybe the new couple had broken up? Smiling at the thought, Buffy adjusted the stake in her hand and headed to work.
Meanwhile the redhead in question was tidying her room with more energy than care, grabbing dirty clothes and hurling them into the washing basket, tugging sheets straight with excessive force and generally presenting the picture of one extremely irritated woman.
[A robot with attitude!] she fumed. [If I wanted a dramatic girly scene I would go and visit Tara. Or Xander!] Willow punched a pillow and shoved it in place, then realised that she had missed the point. [Even as a robot Spike is impossible!]
So now here she was, having got herself into a deal with the devil himself to protect the secret of her robot-lover ... and said robot had stormed off into the night, going God-only knows where and no doubt (knowing her luck) bumping into all of her friends to give them another update on the status on their relationship. Meanwhile not only was she voluntarily losing blood for the bot, she also had to put up with the fear of imminent discovery AND she was sleeping alone.
[Could my life get any worse], Willow mentally snarled as she headed downstairs to her father's liquor cabinet. [Yeah, always responsible, always being nice - and where does that get me? I can't even make a robot happy! A robot who was designed to please me!] Deciding that Warren's robot-programming skills were definitely not all they had been cracked up to be - or maybe he was only good at girl robots? - Willow grabbed a bottle of vodka and stomped to the kitchen.
Pouring equal parts orange juice and vodka, the redhead raised her glass in a toast: "To great sex, even if it is with a robot," and she gulped down the contents.
Pouring another, she raised the glass once more: "To sexy British vampires, even if they are obsessed with my best friend".
By the fifth toast, Willow's anger and sadness had merged into a strange emotion best defined as: desperation.
"Carpe Diem" she cried as she gulped down the liquid, purposely ignoring the dire consequences that had followed the last time she said that.
And putting the glass down unsteadily in the sink, Willow grabbed a jacket and headed off to confront the source of all her problems - Spike.
The vampire in question was relaxing in his armchair, watching television in his crypt. OK, the reception was not great, but as he wasn't really paying any attention to the program it hardly mattered.
Instead he was replaying the events of this evening. [Blood, sex, and a wonderful mind-fuck] the blonde thought with delight. [Just what the doctor ordered].
He stretched in his chair trying to find a comfortable position. He vaguely regretted his scene at Willow's house - [would have been nice to sleep in a proper bed for a change, plus there would have been the opportunity for another couple of rounds with the witch] - but then again he would have had to find a way to explain why the bot had a sun allergy. [Maybe I can tell her he's a method robot; live the part?] Spike thought, only half joking. [Then I'd have a reason for an interest in blood-play] the vampire mused, before deciding he'd just play it by ear.
He wondered what Willow was doing now; probably sleeping, he decided with a grin. [All that shagging probably wore the chit out, it's not like she's used to the rough stuff] the blonde decided smugly. He certainly had no complaints with un-life at the moment: he finally had a source of delicious human blood, he had enjoyed more (and better) sex in the past days than he had for decades, plus he now had the perfect opportunity to get his revenge on the Scoobys - just how he wasn't quite sure, but suddenly the tables seemed to be turning, and chip or not Spike was determined to make the Slayer and her pals sorry for the grief they had given him. Yet when he envisaged the possible havoc he could wreak, somehow Willow never featured as one of his victims.
The redhead in question was at that very minute making her way towards Spike's home cemetery. Her somewhat faltering journey was interrupted by a familiar voice. "Hey, Will! Willow! Wait up!" Willow turned quickly then shuddered as the earth swam before her eyes, taking a steadying breath as her vision slowly cleared and she saw Buffy jogging towards her.
"Buffy?", Willow croaked, before clearing her throat and trying again. "Buffy!"
"You shouldn't be wandering around alone at night," Buffy scolded. As she got a closer look at her friend she added, "especially not in your condition."
Willow stood straighter and glared at her companion. "I am perfectly able to take care of myself, Buffy," the redhead declared. She brandished her hand in front of the blonde's face, showing the stake she had clasped there, but unfortunately the violent movements she made were sufficient to throw off her balance, and Willow stumbled against Buffy, dropping her stake in the process.
Deciding now was probably not the time to start an argument, Buffy kept a straight face and asked gently, "So, everything all right then?"
"I'm going to see Spike," Willow declared as she headed off again. Buffy kept stride with her, letting silence reign for a few moments before commenting, "I saw him before."
At Willow's blank look, Buffy added, "Spike. I saw him before when I was walking past your house. He was in your front garden, and he seemed to be having a good laugh."
The redhead kept her gaze focused on the ground in front of her, aware that her balance was not to be trusted. "Spike is impossible," Willow said with conviction.
Buffy grinned to herself, and made no further comment until the pair reached Spike's crypt.
"Do you want me to wait for you," Buffy asked.
"No, no, I'll be fine," Willow replied. The Slayer shrugged. Dawn was not far away, and the last thing she wanted was to be stuck waiting outside Spike's crypt listening to the pair fight - or even worse, listening to them make up.
"OK, but make sure Spike walks you home if it's still dark."
"Spike is impossible," was Willow's only reply, and she walked into the crypt.
~Part: 19~
"Doesn't the phrase 'rest in peace' have any meaning for you at all?" Spike asked casually as Willow walked in. He cast a quick glance at her, taking in her unsteady stance and general air of belligerence, and smirked. "Been enjoying a bit of post-research carousal, then? I thought you were going home. That route take you by a lot of bars, does it?"
Willow scowled, filled with indignation, her mood fuelled by alcohol and her general sense that, somehow, her life was spiralling out of control. She knew it was all Spike's fault - she just knew it! - but she was unable to find the words to express exactly how all her current problems could be laid at his door.
"You're impossible," Willow muttered, looking around unsuccessfully for a chair, or any surface to sit on that wasn't either covered in dust or the final resting place for someone's dearly departed.
Spike smiled. "Incoherent? I've always liked that in a woman. You're not going to start singing to the stars, are you?"
"Impossible!" Willow retorted, her moment of drama somewhat ruined by her gentle swaying.
Spike stretched out and made a show of resettling himself in his armchair - the only chair in the room, Willow noted resentfully. "You already mentioned that, luv. But I don't know; impossible, that's coming it a bit strong, don't you think? Maybe improbable? Or unlikely?" he asked casually, privately wondering how long it would take before Willow simply collapsed to the floor.
Willow glared at the blond, noting his smug expression and longing to find the words to make him feel as bad as she felt herself. But while the alcohol had done wonders for her ability to feel belligerent, it had also removed her capacity to express that belligerence.
Sighing sadly, Willow felt her anger depart, leaving behind confusion and bewilderment. Walking carefully over to where Spike remained seated, his eyes fixed on her approaching form, Willow unceremoniously sat down on his lap, getting comfortable as she pondered on how to correct her life. But she had not the slightest clue what to do; things seemed just too far gone.
"You're just kidding yourself if you think that Buffy would ever be interested in you," she told Spike gently. Somehow, it seemed much easier to fix someone else's problems than her own.
Spike made no reply, shifting one hand up to fiddle with her hair as Willow continued with her train of thought. "You'd think she'd understand how lucky she is. I mean, really, you're perfect for her. Both night workers, both familiar with the undead, both like fighting ..." Willow's voice trailed off as depression swamped her. [They really are a perfect couple,] Willow realised sadly. That's all she needed, Spike and Buffy to realise they were meant to be together. [She doesn't deserve him, but when did that ever make a difference,] Willow decided morosely.
Spike smiled as the redhead in his arms sighed sadly - again. [Never a dull moment with this one] he decided with pleasure. "Now pet, I thought you were the one telling me I was only interested in Buffy because I was in love with pain? Why the sudden change of opinion?"
"How can you joke about it?" Willow asked curiously. "I thought you loved her?"
"I thought so too," Spike said slowly, feeling an unwelcome moment of self-knowledge approach. The last thing he wanted to do was join Willow in her pity-party, so he quickly blocked the thought. "Anyway, I've decided to blame everything on my chip - much easier that way. Loving the Slayer, hating the Slayer, helping the Slayer - blame the chip!" Spike declared loudly as Willow giggled against his chest.
"That sounds good," said Willow. "Can I blame everything on your chip too?"
"Of course pet, after all, we're a couple, what's mine is yours."
Willow smiled. [Who'd have thought a soulless demon would be so sweet?], she mused. And she finally surrendered to the combined effects of sleep deprivation and alcohol, falling asleep in Spike's arms, with a smile still curving her lips.
Spike felt the witch go limp, and picked her up, carrying her across to the sarcophagus he was currently using as a bed and laying her down gently. He took a moment to admire the picture she made, pale skin and red hair, with his bite mark practically glowing on her neck. Spike ran his fingers over it slowly, tracing the contours with his fingertips as Willow shifted gently, moving her body closer towards his hand. Spike viewed the redhead's crumpled clothing speculatively; [Well now, a gentleman wouldn't let a lady suffer] he decided with an evil grin, and he set to work to swiftly stripped Willow's unresisting form. [Much better], he decided, giving her an appreciative look before heading off to the corner of the crypt to dig through a pile of clothing before emerging, triumphant, with a blanket.
Walking back to the sleeping girl, Spike laid the blanket over her before removing his own clothing, folding them and placing them in a pile on the floor, before hopping onto the stone slab next to Willow and worming his way under the blanket with some care; the slab was only just big enough for both of them, and he didn't fancy being rolled off if Willow made a sudden movement. Spike closed his eyes and tried to still his thoughts.
Feeling a very unusual sense of peace, he dismissed all his concerns about what was going on; after all, whatever happened, happened. He'd never been able to control events in the past, no matter how hard he had tried; and thinking that you could, well, that was just a mug's game. The one thing he'd learnt in all his time was that, to survive, you had to work with the cards you were dealt. And at the moment, if he allowed himself to think about things; well, there was not much to complain about. Even the chip was not bothering him as much as usual; considering he was full of fresh, human blood, had spent the evening having a great shag, and was now about to curl around a warm body.
Musing on the quixotic whims of fate, Spike pulled Willow even closer against him and swiftly joined her in slumber.
*****
Some things made sense - but others definitely didn't. Willow felt the payback of last night's binge in the needles of agony that threatened her head every time she tried to open her eyes, and in the ominous rolling of her stomach as she contemplated sitting up. Well, so be it - this was the morning after the night before. But why was her bed so hard - rock hard, in fact?
Willow searched her mind briefly, but soon found herself distracted by the muscled form that was pressed up against her. At least Spikebot had found his way home; her annoyance seemed to have dissipated along with her alcohol-fuelled indignation, and now she actually felt bad for him - [well, OK, it] she corrected herself. She knew what it was like to feel that you were being taken for granted. She would have to think of something nice to do for her bot. Maybe she could cook him dinner? Musing on her cooking skills, or rather the lack thereof, Willow amended that to ordering a pizza, but then realised that as a robot didn't actually eat, maybe that would not be such a thoughtful gift.
As she pondered a better way to say "thanks for all the sex", without actually doing what Spikebot wanted or running the risk of anyone finding out about her dirty secret, Willow's hands decided on their own gesture of appreciation as they skimmed their way over the cool body lying still next to her, one hand working its way up to cup the back of Spikebot's neck while the other made its way down, teasing over a smooth chest to stroke at hard stomach muscles before moving even further, nimble fingers wrapping around a soft shaft and gently moving up and down. [After all, what says good morning better than some quality naked time] the redhead decided, smiling as her hand was quickly filled with Spikebot's hardening cock, and she felt his body twitch as she moved her thumb over the silky tip, giving a few more pumps with her hand until her thumb could detect traces of moisture seeping out.
Her eyes still firmly closed in an attempt to hold off her impending headache, Willow squirmed in delight as she found herself pulled on top of the bot, her head falling forward so that her face was nestled against Spike's shoulder as strong hands held her in place.
"Spike," Willow murmured contentedly.
"Morning Pet," came the reply, as cool hands massaged her back.
"My head hurts," Willow replied, although even as she said it she could feel her body deciding that her head didn't hurt *that* much. Not when she had a willing and able Spikebot ready to distract her, any way. "Want to make it better?" she asked, as she wriggled slightly, allowing the bot's erection to rub against her stomach.
Without replying the bot grabbed Willow firmly around the waist, pulling her hips up then moving her back against his body so that the tip of his cock was now nestled against the juncture of her thighs. Willow moaned softly, moving her legs further apart only to grimace as one knee struck hard against what felt like stone. Reluctantly prying one eye open, Willow blinked several times quickly before realising with horror that her first glimpse had been correct. She was not at home getting cosy with her bot. This was a crypt, which meant the naked person underneath her was -
"SPIKE!"
~Part: 12~
Spike winced as Willow shrieked his name, her mouth scant centimetres from his ear. He winced again when in her scramble to jump off him the witch's knees came perilously close to his more tender spots.
"Let me guess; you've changed your mind?" he drawled as he watched the redhead grab her clothing from the floor, a feat made more difficult by the way her eyes were more or less closed. [Someone's going to have one hell of a headache] Spike decided with some satisfaction; at least he wouldn't be the only one suffering this morning. Looking down with regret at his erection, which apparently hadn't realised that events had taken a turn for the worse, Spike muttered, "If that isn't just like a woman, getting a bloke's, ah, hopes up, then leaving him high and dry."
Grinning, Spike watched as a crimson tide flooded the redhead's face while she continued to wriggle into her clothes. Never one to miss the opportunity to get someone when they were already down, Spike continued with another jab.
"Just what kind of a bloke you think I am? Coming around here drunk, screaming abuse, taking advantage of me, then the next morning running out without even a fare-thee-well. I don't know where you get the nerve, actually. What, just because we are putting on a show for your pals you think that you can use me? I'm a bloody toy now, eh?"
[And score another one for the Big Bad] Spike crowed silently, as Willow froze in the middle of buttoning her shirt to stare at him with a stricken gaze.
"What?" she croaked. "What do you mean, take advantage of you?"
"Come on pet, two naked adults together; I mean, I'll admit I didn't say no, but I didn't expect you to pull a 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' on me. Not your style, is it? I mean, aren't you meant to be the nice one?" Spike did his best to look injured as Willow looked at him with mounting horror, her mind still absorbing his previous comments.
"Naked? Why are you naked? And I'm naked; why are *we* naked? Naked, together..." Spike watched with amusement as Willow's voice faded and she finally got beyond the immediate problem of being naked in his crypt to the larger issue of how exactly she got that way.
"You don't remember?" the blonde asked in a wounded tone.
Willow just continued to stare at him, a wild animal caught in the headlights of an on-coming bus.
"Now pet, I realise you were drunk, but I can't believe you've forgotten it all. I'm not just hurt; I'm insulted. You got the benefit of over 100 years of experience, and now you act like nothing happened. Why don't you come over here and I'll give you a bit of a reminder." And with that Spike leaned back invitingly, giving the redhead the opportunity to enjoy him in all his naked glory.
Willow's gaze left Spike's face momentarily, drawn seemingly against her will to take in the picture before her. After a frozen moment, Willow closed her eyes completely and seemed to steady her resolve.
"I don't believe you. I don't! I might have been drunk, but I wasn't *that* drunk. And even if something happened - which I doubt - then I had no idea it was you! I probably thought you were someone else."
"Is that right, pet? Because it seems to me there's not that many folk around Sunnydale called 'Spike', and that's the name you've been screaming all night long."
"But, no, I didn't mean you!" Willow blurted out.
"So there's another bloke wandering around out there called Spike, eh? And you just happen to be shagging him, and somehow you got me mixed up with this other Spike? Quite a coincidence, eh?"
"No, no, it's nothing like that," came the agitated reply.
"Well now, why don't you just sit down and explain it all to old Uncle Spike then, eh?" said the vampire as he tried his best to look friendly and non-threatening.
"I'm not talking to you. You're Spike! You're naked Spike!" came the horrified reply.
"I could always get dressed," Spike pointed our calmly, which only seemed to irritate the redhead further.
"You are impossible!" was the only reply as a partially clad Willow, clothing askew and wincing against the beginnings of a truly horrific headache, stormed out of the crypt, leaving the door open and sunlight streaming in as a last act of defiance. Her headache would have been just that much worse if she could have seen the events in the crypt soon after she left; Spike, still naked but now with an evil grin, wrapping one hand around his neglected erection while the other held her forgotten panties.
Back in the relative safety of her parents' house, lying in a tepid bath with a wet cloth pressed over her eyes, Willow felt somewhat more in control of matters. Taking another sip of her reviving herbal tea, she had more or less pieced together the events of last night. She was pretty sure that nothing had happened with Spike, although why he had felt the need to strip her after she passed out she had no idea. [Duh, hello, evil vampire!] she decided, feeling only slightly embarrassed about the whole thing. After all, she had seen him naked too.
More intriguing was the episode that had come after - the Morning Grope as she now referred to it. Spike had seemed definitely interested, and OK, maybe that was just a man thing, or a desperation thing, but still ... he hadn't even seemed vaguely surprised to have her hands all over him. Musing over recent events, Willow wondered if Spike was finally getting over his Buffy obsession, something that she was starting to admit to herself she would be very happy about. But if Spike really was cured of his Slayer fixation, how on earth was that going to affect her already too confused life?
And speaking of the chaos that was her existence - where was Spikebot? She was going to have to get one of those global tracking chips inserted in his head; or maybe he already had one? She would have to check the plans that Warren had left her. She really did *not* like the idea of her newly assertive bot wandering loose around Sunnydale, telling all and sundry how she was just using him for sex and didn't really care about him. Willow pictured Spikebot meeting up with Buffy, or, even worse, Spike himself. She'd never be able to explain *that* away.
Feeling her headache start to return, Willow decided to put all thoughts of Spike and the bot from her mind. Getting out of the bath she got dressed and headed to the kitchen, deciding to risk some dry toast; maybe it would soak up some of that leftover alcohol.
As she chewed slowly, Willow suddenly froze as she suddenly remembered something else - speaking to Buffy last night. Something about Spike laughing? In her yard? [What the hell is going on?] the redhead thought, panic making her choke as she spat the half chewed toast onto the floor.
This could not be good.